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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

pink hearts

You only ever wanted a job as a babysitter to make ends meet – falling in love was out of the equation – but with the magic presented right in front of you, you weren’t going to push it away.

PAIRINGS. itadori jin x reader

WC. 10.7k+

NOTES. this fic is purely self indulgent, not requested, i wrote this for me so reader is mostly...well, me. okay listen I KNOW toji is the choice dilf but PLEASE daddy jin has my heart and i’m so soft for him like you guys don’t understand. this is my comfort fic now and jin’s made his way on my comfort character list, give this amazing man a chance, he’s amazing and so kind eeeee my heart is going to burst i love him so much lol + oh this is unedited as usual

masterlist !

The pink-haired man sat across from you, setting down the tray of two coffee mugs on the coffee table before you. He was of regular build, mostly on the lanky side, and his kind eyes peered behind glasses as he smiled at you. “So you’re the babysitter Mr. Gojo recommended?”

You stared at him. Shamelessly.

Suddenly, your initial plan of impressing your employer by wearing a tight pencil skirt and an old white blouse after the assumption that they would be prissy and had way too much money on their hands felt useless.

This guy wore a cream sweatshirt and black slacks, clearly happy and comfortable in his own home.

Upon being the subject of your stare, he only smiled awkwardly, clasping his hands in front of himself as he cleared his throat to let you speak.

“Oh!” you suddenly sat up straight, “Yes, yes I am. I’m sorry for staring. I just think you’d be this...young.” And modest.

“I understand. You’re in university, correct?” you nodded, leaning back in his seat, hand scratching the back of his head. His cheeks tinged a slight pink. “And you’re a close friend of Satoru’s, well...It’s not that I don’t trust his judgment or anything, but it’s my first time being a parent – and I’m a single dad, at that – so I hope you don’t mind that I’d like to see how you get along with my son first before I hire you.”

“Oh yeah, no, that’s perfectly fine!”

Satisfied with your answer, Mr. Itadori stood up with a bow, silently gesturing you to follow him down his hall. “Is there anything you’re uncomfortable with, or anything you don’t know much about? Changing diapers, giving the teething products, anything?”

“I’m the eldest in the family, four more hellish sun drops following afterwards. I think I’m good.”

He nodded at your answer, a small smile on his face. “That’s good to know. My last babysitter was the same age as you, but he didn’t know much about handling babies. I mean, neither do I, but a man’s got to learn, you know?” he laughed at himself, unaware that with each passing second, pink heart eyes gazed up at him admirably.

When you both reached a door that was left slighty open, Mr. Itadori lit up, bending down in front of a crib where his baby laid, small hands clutching at his feet. “Yuuji, baby, Daddy’s here. Are you ready to meet your babysitter?”

Your jaw dropped when he finally picked his baby up, the little boy clad in a tiger onesie and sucking on a toy. “Oh my gosh, you’re so adorable, come here!” you were more than glad when his dad laughed and gently passed the baby to you, who only gurgled in laughter when you cooed at him. “Oh, I want to spoil you and give you kisses, how are you this cute?” Well, it made sense he was cute, since his dad was as well. Yuuji made grabby hands at you, to which you happily obliged, leaning down so his tiny fingers could pinck your cheeks.

Unable to help it, you rubbed your cheeks on his touch, making the little boy clap his feet together, eyes bright with all the happiness and innocence in this world. You honestly wanted to cry right then and there.

“Your hands are soooo tiny, my goodness, I love you already! It’s so nice to meet you, Yuuji, you’re such an angel!”

“You like kids, huh?”

“Well, not so much with kids because toddlers have too much energy, but babies,” you gasped once you heard Mr. Itadori’s muffled laughter, greeted by the sight of him hiding his mouth behind his palm. Instantly, you smiled at him nervously, clutching the baby closer to yourself because he was so darn cute.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry if I’m being weird right now, I can’t help it! Your son is so precious!”

“Thank you. He’s the greatest blessing of my life too,” he beamed, turning to his baby with that soft look in his eyes that parents wore so well. “Well, it seems Yuuji really likes you. He’s friendly to everyone but...I’m surprised he’s warmed up to you this fast,” Mr. Itadori bent over to poke his cheek, the baby’s tiny hand wrapping around his dad’s finger. “Yuuji~ don’t forget I’m still your dad, okay? She’s the babysitter – she’s not your mom so don’t be too clingy, alright?”

You stiffened at his words, your eyes flickering back and forth between the baby and him. They had the same eye and hair colour, along with that aura of kindness surrounding them...it was hard to imagine what the mother would be like. Was she as bright and adorable too?

If yes, then this was an entire family of pink hearted strawberries!

“If...if it’s not too much to ask, may I ask where his mom is?”

Much to your surprise, his eyes grew forlorn, though the smile remained on his face. “His mom...is in a much happier place now,” was all he said – and it was enough – that you couldn’t dare ask more.

Mr. Itadori walked out of Yuuji’s room and into the kitchen afterwards, eyes squinting over the neat handwriting on a sticky note on his refrigerator. “Okay, so, I don’t know if Satoru’s told you, but I’m an engineer. I usually just work from home, especially now that I’ve got a baby, but there are still days where I have to go the office for presentations and meetings. I can’t guarantee that the babysitting schedule will be permanent – is it alright if I call you whenever?”

“Yeah, yeah, I mean, other than university, I don’t really have anywhere else to go.”

“That’s good to hear! But wouldn’t this job get in the way of your studies?”

You shook your head, subconsciously pressing closer to the baby instead because he was just so warm and wouldn’t stop tugging at your collar. A part of you was also eager to get this job not only for the baby, but Mr. Itadori intrigued you as well. You knew it was wrong but you had to be honest with yourself, hiding this truth for him instead through a shaky smile.

“No, definitely not! I can just take my studies here – if you won’t mind, of course – and I promise I won’t litter or make a mess or anything. During babysitting hours, Yuuji will be more of a priority than my homework, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

Mr. Itadori hummed to himself, rubbing at his chin. “If that’s the case, then I suppose you’re free to use the study at the end of the hall. There’s a baby camera there that lets you see Yuuji in every room, but if he’s asleep, feel free to use it.”

“Oh wow,” you blinked back in surprise, gently rocking a gurgling Yuuji back and forth. “You didn’t have to do that so uhm, thank you, really, I promise I’ll take care of your son very well!”

“I can see why Satoru recommended you now,” he shook his head with a smile, moving over to the litter of dinosaur stickers onto another list. “Here is a list of the things Yuuji likes and doesn’t like. He’s mostly active in the afternoons when I’ll most likely get called for work, and he’s a mess by then. He really likes playing and cuddles, and he’ll also demand to be carried most of the time otherwise he’ll cry,” he paused as his eyes slid over to you, lips pursed in thought. “I know you’ll do great but...don’t spoil my son too much, okay? I just don’t want him to uh...think that you’re his parent or something. Yuuji gets easily attached like that. If he calls you ‘mama’...please tell me about it, okay?”

“Yes, of course. I know my place, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way,” he raised in hands in surrender as he saw your eyes widen with fear. “Being a single parent is just hard, you know? I can’t help but always feel that maybe I won’t be enough for him, and as much as I can, I’d like to let my son he can rely on me at all times.”

“I think you’re a very great father,” you admitted rather shyly, “Your son is really lucky to have you as his parent. I can tell he’s going to be such a sweetheart.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me,” he placed a hand over his heart, then pulled out a business card from the back of his pocket. “Now, here’s my number and my work schedules. You don’t have to drop by during weekends since I’m always here, but I might need you every Wednesdays to Fridays. Can I have your class schedule as well? That way I know when’s the right time to text you if I need something,” Reaching into your bag that had a copy of your schedule, you handed it to him, the strawberry-haired man’s lips growing into a smile as he read over the content. “Well, what do you know? You study engineering too? Computer engineering?”

You winced, memories you’d rather not think of again resurfacing. “Please don’t call me a nerd. I’ve heard that enough already.”

“What’s wrong about being a nerd? I’ve always been a nerd too and I think I’m fine,” you swapped numbers after that, not even giving you enough time to recover from his comment. Not that being a nerd was a huge deal, but people always said it weirdly that you dreaded hat word. Hearing it from him though...it felt like a compliment. “Guess that settles it then. I’ll see you soon?”

Heart elated and spirits soaring into the sky that you actually got the job and the employer was a kind man, you nodded with a bright smile on your face. “Yeah, I’ll come by next week! Thank you so much for trusting me!”

“No, thank you for your service,” he responded back shyly, waving to you as you walked out the door. Not a few moments later, Mr. Itadori ran after you, his cheeks flushed pink from the shrot run. “Wait! Can I have my son back?”

Looking down at the baby in your arms who was too busy sucking on his thumb, your cheeks heated, extending your arms as gentle as you could while Mr. Itadori got his son back. He only laughed at your state, waving it off with a shake of his head. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! It just feels so natural to hold him!”

“You’ll be a good mother someday,” he commented almost absentmindedly. Meanwhile, you couldn’t stop bowing and apologizing with each step backwards, too distracted to notice that your heels dug into a small crack. You yelped as you felt the floor slip beneath you, Mr. Itadori’s instincts kicking in when he easily grabbed your wrist to pull you towards him, your foreheads almost knocking one another’s. “Whoa – watch your step. You could’ve fallen seriously there.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Itadori! I’ll try to be more graceful next time,” you bowed repeatedly, still so ashamed as you tugged your skirt down. “Why the hell did I wear heels anyway? It’s not like this is a law firm.”

“Please,” he smiled at you – and you swore in that moment that things were just going to be different – eyes closed and his whole face lit with light heartedness. “Call me Jin,” taking his son’s hands up, he waved the little arm as you walked out the door, still in a light trance of disbelief. “Say bye-bye, Yuuji!”

Even as you made it back to your bus stop, you still couldn’t get your mind off of the strawberry-haired father and son duo. Their home was just so...bright, you immediately felt safe and comfortable.

As your heart fluttered at the memory of Jin smiling at you, you placed a palm over your heart, willing it to calm down. That couldn’t be good, right?

“Earth to Y/N!”

You snapped back to life when your friend slapped you on the arm, smiling at her when she only huffed at your dazed out self again. It wasn’t irregular for you to space out like this, and you were more than thankful she was always there to bring you back to reality before you accidentally crossed a street when the lights were green or something.

“Sorry, what?”

“Do you know how many times we had to drag you away because you keep running into poles?” she rolled her eyes, “Sheesh, how would you survive without us? What are you spacing out for anyway?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just thinking about work and all.”

“Speaking of that, how’d the interview go? Was your employer as strict and condescending as the Zenins? The hell happened to those bastards anyway?” “I bet their child is going to grow up sexist or something.”

At the mention of Jin and his baby, your whole self lit up. “My employer is better this time around. He’s only a few years older than us; like five or seven, I think? He’s really nice too and dude, his baby is so. Freaking. Adorable,” you gushed, mimicking the gesture of rocking a baby around with your arms, eyes filled with heart-shaped characters. “Like a freaking strawberry in my arms! He’s so sweet too!”

“You and your attachment to babies,” she scrunched her nose in disgust – always having had an aversion to anyone younger than her. “I’ll never get it.”

“Babies are the best!”

“Yeah, until they drool and throw up on you,” as if the image procured in her mind, your friend shuddered, rubbing her hands up and down her arm to relieve her goosebumps. “I never want to be a mom.”

“You’ll change your mind once you fall in love with someone who’s amazing enough to make you want to have a family on your own.”

“You talk about that as if you’ve met that someone already!”

“Maybe I have,” you giggled stupidly to yourself. Of course you weren’t thinking about Jin – you just knew deep in your heart you always wanted your own family. Growing up from a large family and getting separated from them, it was uncomfortable to not be surrounded by crying and squealing, which was always accompanied with laughter and kisses at the end of the day. Now who wouldn’t want that? You waved your hand to your friend, trying to hide the apparent gushing behind your voice. “I’m just kidding. I just really love babies.”

“Whatever,” she closed the topic, and you didn’t protest, knowing full well your friend cringed at the mention of babies or children. “So are you coming to our study group tonight?”

“Can’t. Got work,” you shrugged, a light skip in your steps as you both walked to the campus. Thankfully, she mistook your enthusiasm with the excitement of getting to hang out with babies again, which was true, but something about meeting Jin again and possibly getting to know more about the sweet father was a huge cherry on top – one your friend didn’t have to know about.

“Shame. I heard that hot guy from Biology was coming too.”

“Fushiguro Toji? Wasn’t he scouted for the military?”

“Honestly, I’m more surprised he’s not a gangster,” she snorted, “But whatever. Text me when you get home safely, okay? If you don’t text within—”

“Yeah, I know, I know. Text you when I get on the bus stop, text you when I arrive at work, when I leave and when I’ve gotten home otherwise you’re calling the cops to report me missing or abused,” you stood up straight for a mock salute, brows furrowed in faux seriousness. “I know, ma’am. That’s drilled in my head already.”

“I’m serious. The world is a dangerous place!”

“Yes, I’ll text you!”

Wednesdays couldn’t come sooner. But when it did, you were far too excited. You’d never tell anyone you took the extra time to fix your hair and spritz on just a tinge of perfume, not wanting to overwhelm the baby.

You shot up from your seat right after class ended, hair flying in the wind as you bolted to the bus stop. Wiping away the sweat on your forehead and fixing your clothes with a pat of your hand, you took a deep breath, chanting inner mantras that today would be a good at work. You’d be contributing to society by caring for a child that would soon be the light of the future, and you were more than honoured. Clearing your throat, you pressed on the bell, humming to yourself as you heard the light patters of footsteps inside.

“Hey, you’re here!” Jin smiled at you, one you reciprocated wholeheartedly, and he opened the door wider while you took off your shoes.

He was still dressed in his sweatpants and a white shirt, looking utterly domestic and different from your previous employers that would glare at you if you touched their kid without sanitizing your hand twice first. Jin was like a breath of fresh air to you – one you breathed in with glee while you followed him inside.

His house was kept neat and clean, surprising you even more at just how immaculate to detail he could be despite his busy schedule. Was it because he was an adult or a parent now that people his age were just more organized and put together?

Whatever it was, you trailed around Jin like a puppy, eager to learn from his ways.

“I told myself I’d only ask you to come around if I’m away for work but I’m working on a huge project and my client is very demanding. He’s asking me to pass it this week already and he just sent me his plans last night.”

“It’s okay...Jin,” you stuttered over calling him by his first name like that, “You can focus on your work. I’ll take care of everything else.”

“Thank you! Yuuji’s in his room, by the way. He’s just had dinner so he’s still energetic – you can pull up the cartoons and lounge in the living room. He’ll be fine,” he opened his mouth to say something else when his gaze darted to your book bag, eyes widening. “Oh wait, you brought your schoolwork—”

“I’m good! I’ve already finished them during my spare time! I promise you really don’t have anything to worry about!”

“Oh, that’s cool, I guess,” he calmed down at your words, scratching the back of his ear before gesturing to his door. “Well, I’ll be in my room if you need me. I get really occupied and focused though, so just open the door if I don’t open it right away.”

“Noted,” You wasted no time in picking up Yuuji from his crib afterwards. It seemed the little man didn’t quite like being imprisoned like that because he was babbling nonsensically, fists banging on the edges.

Upon seeing you enter his room, Yuuji’s babbles got louder, small chubby arms reaching out to your extended ones. His pacifier fell inside his crib as he pouted at you, and how could you resist? Soon, you were happily nestled onto the couch on the living room, his favourite cartoons playing on the background.

His head swayed side to side as the songs came along, while you watched him with tiny giggles. You wondered if maybe your first day at work would be eventless like this.

You really thought you’d run back and forth doing errands and changing diapers, but that was your old babysitting experience – things were obviously different with Jin and his son.

Yuuji was quiet, but Jin was right, he was clingy. Not an hour later into the show, he crawled to your sides and settled into your lap, tiny hands grabbing at your shirt. He sighed as his cheeks rested on your chest, though his eyes still glossed over the cartoon. You felt like your heart would burst at his affection, and you patted his back gently to lull him to sleep.

Eventually, Yuuji fell asleep. You hadn’t even noticed it was dark out already, the cartoons only playing through loop.

You scooped up Yuuji closer to your arms before shutting the TV off, making sure to be as quiet as you could be while you placed him back on his crib. Smiling at the angel, you patted his hair before leaving the room, knocking on Jin’s door at the end of the hallway instead.

When he didn’t respond after four knocks, you thought he’d fallen asleep until you remembered his note.

Shakily, you twisted the knob open, a small smile on your face when you saw him furiously sketching something on his paper. An empty cup of coffee laid beside his table, eraser shavings everywhere. His room smelled like soft laundry detergent with the faint aroma of white caramel coffee – smooth and sweet like him – and it felt almost wrong to be in such a space that was clearly so intimate of him.

Not wanting to disturb too much, you cleared you peered from behind the door sheepishly. “...Jin? Oh. Hello.”

“Hey,” he blinked at you then rubbed his eyes, staring at you for a solid minute before his mouth formed into an ‘o’ shape. “Is everything okay? Yuuji didn’t destroy something, did he?”

“No, he’s fast asleep. I just came here to say I’ll be going home now. It’s past midnight already.”

“It’s that late?” Jin glanced at his wristwatch and adjusted his glasses, fingers swiping up to retrieve his keys as he wore his coat. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you stay this late, and you have school tomorrow too,” he groaned tiredly, though the apologetic smile on his face easily concealed his exhaustion. “I’m really sorry I lost track of time. Come, I’ll drive you home, it’s not safe this dark out.”

“But Jin,” you froze in his hallway, “What about Yuuji?”

“Do you live far from here?”

“No, the dorms are like five minutes away,” Jin pondered about this information, possibly hesitating that maybe it wasn’t his best to leave his son alone. You appreciated the thought, you really did, but you were worried for Yuuji too so you smiled at him, nodding to assure that he didn’t have to. “Jin, it’s okay, I can just take the bus. I’ve been doing that for a long time now and I’m really okay.”

Jin clutched at his keys, the frown on his face evident. “At least let me walk you to the bus stop? So I know you’re safe?”

“Yeah, that’s fine, I guess.”

“Let me just get extra covers for Yuuji. It might be cold tonight,” You waited until he came out with Yuuji warmly bundled up in his arms. The two of you walked side by side, baby Yuuji fast asleep in his arms with his head covered in a small cap. You blushed at the thought that maybe people would think you looked like a family, but before these foolish imaginations could consume you, Jin beat you to it. “I haven’t thanked you properly for today, by the way. Let me make it up to you sometime – you look really tired.”

You flushed deep at his words, shaking your hands in front of you. “Oh no, it’s fine, really! I’m just doing my job.”

“Yes, but caring for someone else’s child – whether you’re paid or not – is still a very selfless act and I can’t thank you enough for it.”

You looked away from how warm his smile was despite the biting chill of the night, turning away to bury your chin in your neck instead. “You really don’t have to do anything. I’m just happy to help.”

“If you insist then,” Jin waved at you as much as he could without waking his son up as you hopped onto the bus, with you watching from the inside. “Get home safely! Text me when you’re home!”

“I will,” you mouthed through the window.

Jin and Yuuji disappeared from your sight after that. All the way back home, the warmth and butterflies swarming your stomach wouldn’t disappear. Even as you flopped on your bed, you still kept tossing and turning, the bright light of your screen glaring at you to just send the darned text already.

Hey...or maybe hello? He’s older though... How do older people even text each other? He wasn’t that much older, but still...it kind of felt inappropriate to address him too casually.

Deciding to just screw it, you pressed backspace and settled for the most boring text, hitting send and flattening on the bed with a groan. Who knew texting someone could be that mind-boggling? Sweat beaded at your forehead as you stared at the plain I’m home, sleep about to take over when your phone buzzed afterwards.

I’m glad to know you’re safe. Sleep well, Y/N.

Looking over at your slumbering roommate, you grabbed a pillow to bite it and muffle your screams, legs flailing beneath you as you read his text over and over again. It wasn’t even that special, but Jin had wished you well – the hardworking and sweet Jin – sending your heart into overdrive.

Your roommate didn’t stir one bit even as you giggled to yourself, punching the bed while you replayed the image of his smile, the feeling of how warm he was walking close to you like that and the sound of his soothing voice that just messed with you on the insides.

God, you had it bad – and yet, why did it feel so good?

Babysitting had never been more fun. Even though the task was no longer new for you, you looked forward to working every single day. Your friends noticed your change in moods, but just downed it to the fact you were generally a cheerful person anyway and didn’t bother asking why, which you were thankful for because it wasn’t easy to admit it out loud you liked Itadori Jin, of all people.

Now that you looked back onto it, he wasn’t that special.

He was definitely the type of guy you easily overlooked in a train, but he would also be the type of guy who wouldn’t hesitate to give up his seat for someone else. It wasn’t like he was utterly interesting too since like you, his life was a bland routine of taking care of babies, working, holing up in his room to create something, drinking coffee as sweet and light as possible, then calling it a day and sleeping with a huge smile on their face, just thankful for another day.

Yes, he was simple. Yes, he might even be boring, but gosh, you had never liked someone so much.

You summed it down to him being kind and loving. Yes, that was all it was. While your friends flocked over to mysterious, dark guys like Fushiguro Toji and his friends, gossiping non-stop on how he supposedly had a hotter younger relative but were a lot shittier than he was, you were different. You were simple.

You liked soft, quiet guys who enjoyed the soft pit-patters of rain, the types of people who spent too much time in the library travelling across galaxies in their seat, and overall, you liked peaceful souls.

Jin was everything you ever admired – stable, simple, kind, affectionate. It was clear from how he was never shy to shower his baby with kisses and feed him with airplane spoons, using a small voice to baby talk his son. Every time you came around, you immediately felt welcomed into their happy home despite the lack of a maternal figure, and you found yourself wanting to be there a lot more often than you should.

It seemed that the heaven heard your prayers when your phone rang. Instinct kicked in, and you grabbed at your blaring phone, eyes wide when you read the contact name.

“Hello? Jin, what’s wrong?” Yuuji was crying in the background, accompanied with his father’s constant shushing and worried cooing.

“H-hi, I’m really sorry to bother you, I know it’s late, it’s just Yuuji won’t stop crying and my neighbours are mad at me because I can’t get him to calm down,” as if on cue, Yuuji only wailed louder. You could hear Jin’s desperate pleas for him to quiet down a little, with you dashing out of your bed and slinging your arms inside your coat. “Could you please come over? I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m on my way,” was all you said before hanging up. Minutes later, you’d entered their apartment thanks to the spare key Jin gave you, heart breaking as Yuuji’s wailings only got louder.

Jin’s shoulders visibly relaxed when you scooped his son into your arms, rocking back and forth as you pressed a palm flat on his forehead. He didn’t seem to be feverish or even warmer than usual, but he was definitely irritated, pushing away at your hands that laid on him.

“Yuuji, baby! What’s wrong, sweetheart? Something hurt anywhere?” you turned to Jin, “Is his diaper full?”

“I just checked, he didn’t poop,” Jin nibbled at his thumbnails, a quirk you didn’t expect he’d have with his seemingly put-together composed self. His son’s crying must’ve really bothered him because Jin wouldn’t stop pacing back and forth, Yuuji’s newly cleaned pacifier clenched between his fingers. “I gave him the teething rings too but he just dumped them to the side.”

Nodding, you tried poking at Yuuji’s stomach. The baby belly that should’ve been squishy was firm against your finger, the imaginary light bulb in your head going off.

“His stomach is a little tight. I think he’s got gas,” you informed Jin with a relieved smile, glad that it wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. “We need to make him burp,” Patting at Yuuji’s back while Jin gently massaged Yuuji’s belly, prompting the boy to wail louder with his tiny arms banging both your chest, a big burp was finally released.

“Oh my gosh, he’s still crying.”

“It’s okay, Jin, he’ll be fine,” you reassured, smiling wide at baby Yuuji even though he couldn’t focus on you. “That’s right, sweetheart, you’re doing great. Just burp a little more and it won’t hurt so bad. It’s just gas, sweetie, you’re alright. I’ve got you.”

“B-but the neighbours...”

“Don’t mind them,” You didn’t mean for your words to come out harsh, but who could blame you? Yuuji was clearly in distress; the last thing you cared about was pleasing others. “They can plug in earbuds for all I care. Yuuji needs help,” at your words, Jin swallowed, resuming his ministrations of encouraging his son to burp.

Yuuji stilled for a moment before he resumed his crying. This time around, Jin was a lot calmer and focused as his hands rubbed at his son’s stomach. The burps came constant afterwards until Yuuji had enough, turning away from his father and burying his head on your chest. Small hiccups followed, but he’d calmed down, eyes shut tight from the previous discomfort.

“Are you feeling better now, baby? Tummy ache is gone?”

“He’s...not crying anymore...” Jin murmured in disbelief, his hands hovering above Yuuji’s belly.

“He’s still really red, though,” you frowned, hands brushing his bangs away from his forehead. It didn’t take long before Yuuji settled in, thumbs sucked into his mouth. Little whimpers could still be heard from the little guy, though nothing serious happened. You and Jin both sighed in relief. “I think he’s tired from crying. I’m going to go rock him for a bit,” Eyes flitting over to Jin’s face rigged with dark circles, you mustered a chuckle. “How about you, are you okay? You look half-dead,” you joked.

“He was in the crib next to me when he just started wailing out of nowhere,” Jin plopped down onto the sofa, his sweatshirt crinkled and sweatpants loose and comfortable as ever. “I was so scared that maybe something else was wrong.”

“Parenting is both a blessing and a hardship, huh?” you chided in, “Don’t worry. I still think you’re doing an amazing job at being a dad.”

“You’re quite amazing too. You’re a natural at this.”

You shrugged, unable to look Jin in the eye as you continued gently swaying side to side while Yuuji slept in your arms. “My parents were rarely around. They were too busy working to provide for all of us so I acted as the parental figure instead.”

“Your parents are really lucky to have you as a child – reliable and strong.”

“All I ever wanted was to make them proud,” you told him, looking far from the distance as you reminisced your old memories with your family. It felt so far away already – they felt far away – though you knew the love you had for one another still remained. “And I live a good life knowing they passed with no worries. My siblings are doing great, too, though we’ve all parted ways now. Some of them got adopted by our relatives and I’m...I’m here I guess.”

“I’m extremely sorry for your loss,” Jin’s voice was quiet, and when you looked back at him, you saw him smiling into his hands before turning to you, wearing that damned smile that always had your heart doing backflips. “You’re a really strong person, you know?”

Your cheeks flushed at his words. “Thank you. I think it’s all thanks to my parents,” you murmured; that slight pang of pain remained even after their death, though it wasn’t as awful as it used to be. The sting felt a lot calmer now, almost as if time slowly healed your heart back together. “After they passed from the car crash, I just knew I had to be strong for all of us. The pain and the hardship were worth the effort, though. All of us are happy and settled now.”

“That’s the one thing I’m most afraid of,” he confessed, frowning at the peaceful baby in your arms. “That I’ll have to leave my child before he’s ready to face the world by himself. I’m not...I could never be prepared for that.”

“As long as he knows you love him and you always will, I think Yuuji will always find his way in life,” Jin’s eyes widened, something unreadable glimmering behind those pretty eyes that had you feeling too many things all at once. Embarrassment and sudden shyness creeped all the way up to your spine along with exhaustion, and you gestured for him to move aside, heaving as you sat down next to him. “I’m really sleepy.”

“Please, let me hold – oh. He likes you more, I guess.”

You chuckled at his dejected face, the childish pout the exact replication of Yuuji’s. Yuuji refused to be held by his dad, burrowing himself into your warmth instead. “I’ve got a charm when it comes to children.”

“That you do,” he agreed absentmindedly.

Before any of you could realize what was going on, you’d fallen asleep on the couch. Yuuji was still safely nestled between your arms, while Jin’s head was tucked in your shoulder, soft breaths leaving those equally soft lips.

Oddly enough, when you woke up and noticed your current position, none of you found it weird. Jin only laughed at the way drool dried up at the end of your lips, to which you silently scolded him for as to not rouse Yuuji from his sleep. He didn’t move away from his position, eyes flicking over from yours to his son bundled up warmly, a smile tugging up at the ends of his lips.

“Uh... that was a long night.”

“Long night, indeed,” Jin nodded before standing up to stretch, exposing a sliver of smooth skin that made heat rush up to your face. You immediately looked away, heart pounding in your chest as Jin began to rummage through his kitchen. “It’s a Saturday so if you’re free...do you want to stay over for breakfast?”

Something about that night kicked off the start of your...budding friendship with Jin. Yes, that’s exactly what it was, just friendship.

You knew there was no way he could ever see you the way you looked at him; not that you minded. Being in their presence and having Yuuji around was already a blessing itself, the days progressively getting better the more you worked for him.

It had become a routine that Jin would come home, exhaustion lining his eyes before he caught sight of you standing in the living room, reading books out loud while you carried a babbling Yuuji. You would laugh because it felt like Yuuji was trying to have conversation with you, to which you responded with reading terms even you had difficulty pronouncing. He’d only nod and keep saying nonsense, grubby hands reaching for the book you held.

He was so precious that you leaned down to kiss the top of his head every now and then, giggles pouring out from the tiny baby strawberry.

Jin took off his shoes, the happiness bursting through his chest unexplainable upon seeing that his son was happy and safe. Loosening the tie with one hand, he extended his arms wide open, running into your direction. “I’m home!”

“Yuuji, Daddy’s here!”

“How’s my sweet little boy doing?” The smile on Jin’s face was phenomenal and even dramatic as his son finally reached out to him, the babbles only getting louder as his dad peppered his cheeks with kisses. Yuuji still wanted to stay in your arms though, and Jin sighed when his son’s hands went back to grabbing at your book, though the chuckles he let out told you he wasn’t really dismayed about it. “Thank you for looking out for him again. Isn’t your arm tired from carrying him and studying like that?”

“No, I’m good. I’ve got really strong muscles,” you flexed your bicep, “Plus, it’s so comforting to carry an angel like Yuuji around. I feel like I’m going to pass my exams with ease!”

Not a moment later, you dropped your arm and turned away to hide your frown, brows pinched together. Jin, being the ever observant person he was, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his voice gentle and warm as he asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Well,” you began, “I couldn’t understand something and I’ve been going at it for days. Nothing makes sense to me,” with the effort of only one free hand, you flipped to the middle of the book. A headache began to form the moment you read the chapter title, making you cringe while Jin leaned closer for a better look at its contents. “Look at this chapter here. It’s so confusing!”

“Oh, I know this!” he pushed his glasses back up to his nose, grinning as he pulled out a chair before gesturing you to do so. “Okay, so this means...”

Not even in your craziest dreams had you imagined you’d be sitting at Jin’s table like this, your legs touching from the lack of space as he rambled on excitedly about the lesson.

He would have animated gestures to explain the dynamics of this and that, both you and Yuuji staring at him in awe as he broke the chapter down into easier parts. It was still difficult to understand since your attention was mostly on the way his eyes brightened the more he talked about his passion for the subject, not to mention that Yuuji was also grabbing at both your faces.

It made you both laugh, the two of you simultaneously bending down to kiss either sides of his cheeks until Yuuji was squished between the both of you.

You laughed with Jin the moment you made awkward eye contact through the kiss, chests bursting with laughter before he proceeded back to the lesson. With each passing second, you were beginning to fall for him a lot more and on a deeper level – so much so that you told yourself you should be scared. Instead, your heart felt at home, calm and peaceful, almost as if it knew you were safe and welcomed.

This sudden revelation had you looking at him in an entirely different light. Jin looked...the same, but somehow warmer? Like he was bathed in a soft glow, the edges pink like his hair, and your hair melted at each and every word that poured from his lips.

When you excused yourself to go to the restroom, you were greeted by the sight of a nearly passed out Jin on the couch, baby Yuuji asleep on his arms.

Jin must be really tired from work. He hadn’t even changed out of clothes. It was getting late too – you needed to come back home soon.

“Jin. Jin, wake up.”

“Huh?” his eyes snapped open, arms instinctively tightening around Yuuji’s before he relaxed, smiling stupidly as he leaned back on his seat. “Oh, it’s you. Hi.”

“Hi,” you echoed, nails digging into your palm to resist the urge to wrap him in a hug; he looked like he needed it. Hands held out in front of you, you took Yuuji from him, slightly nudging his knee with yours. “I’ll take Yuuji to bed. You should go freshen up,” Jin groaned in agreement as he ran his hands through his hair, muttering something about being a parent meant not getting to sleep well. You chuckled at his statement, already moving to get the cups out from the pantry. “Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?”

“Yeah, that’ll be great, thank you.”

Jin disappeared into his room while you tucked Yuuji into bed, the both of you meeting later in the kitchen. He still looked terribly tired, though his smile was lively as ever when he joined you at the table. “Long day again?”

“It’s always a long day,” he confessed through a sip, “But all my worries wash away when I get to see how happy and healthy my son is. I’d work day and night just to provide a good life for him.”

“Don’t forget to spend time with him too, okay? Using the present to ensure your son’s future in exchange of not watching them grow up isn’t worth it,” you reminded him, slightly referring to how much you regretted not getting to be with your parents much until you completely lost the opportunity to do so again. Jin easily read your eyes, fingers grazing the edges of his cup as you continued, “He’s growing day by day. Promise me you’ll always be there for him, okay?”

“I promise,” though whispered, you heard it loud and clear, and you knew without a doubt he’d keep to his words.

After Jin washed his cup, you gathered your things and allowed him to walk you all the way to his apartment’s entrance, waving softly at you. “Get home safely, Y/N. Text me when you’re home.”

It was the perfect routine: go to school, go to work, fall in love with Jin and his son a lot more than you should be, and go home with his kind smile as the last thing you saw.

Each night before sleep completely overtook you, your phone would vibrate, the name of the man who had completely smitten your heart appearing and washing away all the previous tiredness you both accumulated through the day.

Good night, Jin. Rest well.

You too.

It was a routine you’d never get tired of.

“Jin? Yuuji?” you gasped as Yuuji greeted you with bubbling laughter, his small arms slapping your cheeks while his dad giggled behind him. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Happy Birthday!” Jin greeted and finally showed his face after hiding from Yuuji’s buttocks. Your heart absolutely soared at the sight of the father and son duo wearing matching pink clothes, both of their bright smiles only adding to the warmth of the special day. No, actually, it became special because of them – the two people you adored most in this world. “Satoru texted me it was your birthday and it’s my day off too so I thought I’d drop by!”

Before you could respond, Jin huddled Yuuji closer to him, blinking at the audience you both managed to gather. “I forgot you lived at a dorm, though...is it normal that people are looking us?”

“No, it’s not. They probably think I’m a young mom or something,” you flushed beet red at his words, silently glaring at the nosy onlookers whispering behind their backs. It wasn’t that you were ashamed people could assume that about you, it was just ironic since you actually wanted that to be real but it was embarrassing because you knew Jin wouldn’t see you that way. “Can you give me a few minutes to get ready? We should go somewhere else.”

“Okay, we’ll wait for you downstairs.”

You’ve never moved so fast in your life. Brushing your teeth, showering, and getting dressed in your best clothing were all achieved in the span of ten minutes. You felt proud of yourself as you hopped the stairs two steps down at a time, hair flying from behind you. It was clear you were too excited, but could anyone blame you? You never cared about your birthday, but Jin and Yuuji were here! Of course this was going to be a special day.

You froze at the end of the stairs, the drumming of your heart too wild to tame. Jin was blowing kisses into Yuuji’s belly, the baby’s gleeful laughter painting the walls.

He must’ve felt your stare burning holes at the back of his head because Jin turned your way, Yuuji pressed into his chest as he walked towards you. You were once again blown away by his sweet scent, a mix of gentle laundry detergent and something was just so Jin.

“Hey there,” he smiled, knocking the wind out of your lungs with just two words. “I didn’t have anything cool planned for today since I wasn’t prepared but I know this nice restaurant you might really like. It’s going to be my treat!”

“Oh thanks, but my friends already fed me enough with pizza and cake. Is it okay if we just take a walk around somewhere?”

“Yeah, of course!” Grabbing his arm to pull him away from prying eyes, you walked out of the campus, extending your arms to celebrate your freedom once the warm sunshine kissed at your skin, the cool wind soothing you afterwards. Jin laughed at your carefree expression, watching as you twirled and danced a little at the peace provided to you by the park. “Happy Birthday again! So how’s it feel like being a year older?”

“I feel like nothing’s changed, but at the same time nothing is the same too,” you told him through a laugh, “Does that make sense?”

“Totally. When I first got Yuuji, I didn’t think anything changed too, but now I can’t imagine a life without this little guy.”

Your adrenaline rush had worn down.

Walking side by side with Jin, arms brushing from the lack of proximity even though the area was practically empty, it dawned on you that Jin had lived an entire life before you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking: “Do you...do you still think about her sometimes? His mom?”

Jin was silent for a moment. The sudden stretch of nothingness had anxiety crawling at you hard enough you were about to apologize for asking such a sensitive question, but Jin only smiled at you, although his smile was...sad, regretful, even.

“His mom and I didn’t work out,” he began. “I always knew she had some family issues when we began dating in college, but I didn’t think too much of it. Back then, all I knew was that I loved her and wanted to spend my life with her, so we eloped. Her parents didn’t like it, of course, and they demanded we brought her back,”

“She was pregnant at that time so I refused to let her see her family again knowing how toxic they were to her. But they insisted, and...and she wasn’t the same after that. She just started looking at me differently and hating the growing child inside of her,” Jin kissed the top of Yuuji’s head as he spoke, almost as if silently reminding his son he was loved no matter what.

“When Yuuji was born, she couldn’t even look at him; said she refused to be a mother and to cut ties with me. So we divorced and...well, I don’t know, to be honest. Last time I heard, she’d already remarried in such a short time – to a man her family approved of this time around.”

“Do you still love her?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted with a chuckle, eyebrows furrowed while Yuuji clutched at the collar of his turtleneck sweater, his doe eyes staring right up at you. “Do we ever really stop loving someone?”

Your heart fell at his words. So maybe he still did love her. You always knew you might never get a chance – but surely wishing for it wasn’t such a crime. “Does that mean you won’t fall in love with anyone else anymore?”

“Who would like a nerdy single dad like me?” Jin threw his head back in laughter, the disbelief apparent in his voice. It shocked you that he thought of himself this way, because in your eyes, he was perfect. “Plus, I’m too busy to date. Other than you, I don’t really hang out with women all that much, and you’ve seen in my worst state – like that one time I nearly went to work wearing the wrong tie or with my glasses skewed. I don’t think I’m the type people would want to date.”

“Well, who knows?”

“Yeah, who knows?” he mimicked your shrug, still painfully oblivious that you wore your heart on your sleeve.

Once the sun had completely shied away from the clouds and the heat grew too much for Yuuji, you both resorted to going back to his apartment. Yuuji was happily playing on the ground as he smashed his toys together, while you and Jin wore matching aprons (you didn’t ask why he had two) as you mixed the batter and he preheated the oven.

“I’m still sorry I couldn’t get to buy you a cake, by the way. But we have all the ingredients here and a homemade cake is always amazing!” Instead of smiling at his words, Jin was met with your glossy eyes, lips trembling. You’d completely stopped mixing the batter, no longer in control of yourself as you watched him happily skip back and forth to the ingredients.

Jin rushed to your side in a flash, hands hovering before you. He couldn’t really touch you since he had flour all over his skin, a smidge of it right under his worried gaze. “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Nothing. It’s just...I’ve never really experienced this before. Having someone invite me to their home and bake me a cake for my birthday,” you looked down on the ground, feeling the emotional dam inside you starting to crack. “When I was young, I never even cared about my birthday because I was too busy tending after my siblings. After that, I forgot all about it and I was only surprised when my friends brought me gifts today,” You knew you were rambling, and you waved your hands in front of yourself, forcing yourself to smile. “I’m sorry – I’m being dramatic, aren’t I?”

“Hey, no, you’re not,” Suddenly, Jin pulled you into a hug, your body fitting perfectly in his arms. “I want you to know you’re family to us now. You’re always welcome here with me and Yuuji. We’ll take care of each other like family. We’ll bake you all the cakes you want from now on.”

The rest of his words were drowned out by the thumping of your chest.

You couldn’t hear him, couldn’t even properly see him – in that moment, all you could do was feel. You felt his warm breath ghosting over the column of your neck, his calloused hands patting gently at your back, the heat of his body seeping into yours that pulling away seemed to be such a daunting task. He felt like home, smelled like all the sweetness you lacked in your life, and you just knew you had to tell him.

“Jin. There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Yes?”

“I,” your breath shuddered, hands coming up to clutch at the material of his shirt. “I’m in love with you.”

Just like that, the string broke.

Jin pulled away from you faster than you could comprehend. When you opened your eyes, he was already at an arm’s length away from you, nothing but the sounds of your heart shattering into pieces muddling with his words.

His back dipped into a low bow. “I am extremely sorry; I cannot accept your feelings. It’s not that you’re not loveable; it’s just...you’re my son’s babysitter and I believe this is really inappropriate. Yuuji is vulnerable still and the last thing I want to do is date when I should be focusing on his life instead. I’m really sorry, Y/N. I don’t see nor do I feel that way for you.”

Hurt. Broken. Humiliated. Ashamed. Torn.

A plethora of feelings crashed over you all at once until breathing became such a hard thing to do, his words replaying like a broken record in your head.

He didn’t love you.

He didn’t feel the same way.

And it made sense – because why would he? “Yeah, oh my gosh!” you exclaimed while waving your hands frantically in front of your face, your unexpected enthusiasm causing Jin to peer up at you curiously under his lashes. “I mean, of course, I knew that already, duh. I’m not stupid, but like, yeah I’m really sorry, I’m probably making you so uncomfortable right now. I’m really, really sorry.”

“You’re not, I assure you,” he smiled gently again, but this time around, you weren’t soothed. It felt totally humiliating. Your toes curled inside your socks as your forced smile froze on your face in hopes of not making this any weirder than it already was, and you only chuckled as Jin cleared his throat. “I hope we can still be friends after this and that we can keep our professional relationship,” you nodded eagerly, a little too eagerly, and Jin awkwardly gestured to the pans. “So...a cake is waiting to be baked.”

“Yeah, let’s get to baking!”

If Jin noticed that you were a lot more enthusiastic than you were this morning, he didn’t comment about it. He hummed under his breath in agreement, the both of you working synchronously.

You’ve been in his house long enough that you knew where all the pans and ingredients were, silently handing things over one another through a forced polite conversation of how the other’s day went. A pat on your back was well deserved from how you managed to keep up with his questions, your broken heart perfectly concealed under forced smiles and dry chuckles.

In reality, you couldn’t focus.

On the inside, you were shattered. Why did you have to fall for him out of all people? There could’ve been so many others – like Fushiguro Toji from Biology, Gojo Satoru the playboy, Suguru Geto the heir of his large corporation – but it had to be Itadori Jin.

He was so close and yet out of reach, seemingly so unattainable that your lips had dried from how often you licked at them in an attempt to keep the tears in.

You knew you ruined everything. Soon, you’d have to say goodbye to baby Yuuji, no longer able to kiss him on top of his head and see him smile the moment you walked through the door, his dad equally alight upon seeing you got Yuuji a stuffed toy as a gift.

You were stupid for thinking you could even be part of this family. They were happy and fine enough – what role did you have here?

Compared to an actual working adult who’d already experienced many things in life like Jin, you were just a flimsy, lovesick little girl who was only learning how to love. And with loving, came the guaranteed promise of heartbreak.

You just never expected it would be this way.

As Jin turned his back to you to place the batter inside the oven, your hands shook, desperately wiping the sweat of your palms on your jeans. “Excuse me for a minute,” you dashed to the bathroom, locking yourself and finally allowing the broken gasps to leave your lips.

Your back was laid flat on the wall, your shirt tucked in your mouth as you slapped your thigh, the tears streaming endlessly down your cheeks.

You didn’t want to leave him. You wanted to stay longer, wanted to be able to see his face every waking morning and to make him tea while he made breakfast. You wanted to watch Yuuji grow up and hold hands with Jin, to tell him you would love him if he allowed you. But he didn’t – and it hurt so much that your eyes grew red from the incessant crying.

It was better to just leave than to be kicked out. You couldn’t stay here any longer.

So you wiped your tears away, dunking water to your face before you rushed out the room, bag slung across your shoulder. Yuuji stopped playing as he watched you wear your shoes in frantic movements, your heart bursting through with pain.

You didn’t dare look Jin in the eye.

“Hey, Jin, I’m so sorry – my friends called. They’re inviting me out for drinks tonight and I can’t say no.”

“But...the cake.”

“Yeah, you can eat it yourself, I’m really sorry to bother but uhm, anyways, BYE!” Left confused, Jin stared at the door slammed shut hard enough that Yuuji fell to the floor in surprise, small whines leaving his lips.

Jin couldn’t tell whether his son cried because you’d left them, or he was simply afraid of the sound. Whatever it was, the sinking feeling in his stomach was much too clear.

The next few days were hell. Your friends noticed the sudden drop in your mood, the loss of appetite, and the fact that you were clearly sleep-deprived.

How could you get sleep when your phone wallpaper was Yuuji kissing your cheeks, his dad laughing in the background? How could you sleep when your textbook still lay on your desk, a painful reminder of that time Jin had tutored you? How could you sleep when Wednesdays and Fridays had returned to its normal mundane self with nothing left to look forward to?

You couldn’t tell your friends about it either. All they knew was that you hadn’t been going to work because you came up with a flu, when in reality you’d been buried under your sheets, desperately ignoring the loud silence of your phone.

No texts. No calls. No how are you’s or how are you doing?

Not that you expected him to care since you did step out of line; you’d been completely unprofessional and Jin might not recommend you to future works anymore, though that was the least of your worries.

You just wanted to forget everything. His smile, his laughter, his kindness, the sound of his voice and how he always smelled like sweet vanilla.

Crying yourself to sleep and wishing each day would come to an end faster was absolutely exhausting. The lack of sunlight caused you to be groggy and gray – if you kept up at this state, you’d completely wither like a dried sunflower. You didn’t want to go out but your mini fridge was empty, stomach loudly grumbling for food.

You sighed as you closed the door, unkempt hair up in a bun and body adorned with an oversized shirt and the sweatpants you’ve refused to wash for two days now.

You were a mess – both on the inside and the outside – and your eyes lacked their usual warmth. Your movements mimicked that of a robot as you straggled to the nearest convenience store, about to enter when you heard someone cry out.

“Mama!”

Hands frozen on the door, your eyes widened before your head craned to the sound of rushed footsteps. In front of you was a panting Jin, a wailing baby Yuuji in his arms who only cried louder once he set his eyes on you. Jin gasped for air, and you both moved in sync, with you reaching out for baby Yuuji and him handing his child over to you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry! Yuuji’s first word was Mama and I didn’t know what he meant but then he started crying and clutching the strawberry toy you got him and I’m so sorry, he just won’t stop crying. He kept looking for you.”

“No, I’m the one who should apologize!” you replied back, adding a bounce to your step to cradle Yuuji who’d buried his damp face onto your neck, crying mama over and over again.

Memories of meeting Jin for the first time and his reminder that he didn’t want Yuuji calling you that nearly made you kneel down in apology, but you opted for a slight bow, your hot tears trailing down your face because you missed him, but it was all messed up and seeing him once more only dug a deeper crater in your heart.

Before you completely left each other’s lives, you at least wanted to apologize.

“I realized my mistake and made it so weird for the both of us. Plus, Yuuji didn’t say Dada and I think that’s my fault. I swear I wasn’t trying to replace his mom or anything, I just—”

“I love you too,” he cut you off, and your eyes snapped from the ground back to his flustered face.

“What?”

“I’m sorry for lying that I don’t feel the same way,” he confessed, scratching the back of his neck while his ears flushed a deep red. “The truth is, my father always told me that Yuuji’s mom wasn’t a good person and I should stay away from her, but I never listened. A-and I always talked to him about Yuuji’s new babysitter and how kind you were and how I think I’m falling for you. He said I should man up and tell you but I was just afraid to love again since I’ve fallen before and I don’t want to be hurt again,” Jin bowed to you in a perfect angle, his son now at peace in your arms. “I’m sorry.”

“Jin,” you breathed out, the tears prickling at the back of your eyes. You couldn’t believe this was happening – you wanted to embrace him, to kiss him, hold him, but you’d been so engrossed in your own heartbreak you never even thought about Jin’s fears. “I’d never hurt you or Yuuji.”

“I know, and I’m sorry for hurting you like that,” he straightened up, feeling you stiffen under him when his arms wrapped around you. He felt so warm, and you felt so at place that your tears damped his sweatshirt, Jin’s hands gently caressing your waist. “Is it okay if we come back home?”

You cried louder than you ever did your whole life, though this time it was mixed with laughter. Jin laughed with you as you encircled your free arm around his neck to pull him closer, your lips eager as you littered kisses over his neck.

“Yes, of course,” you giggled, “You don’t even have to ask.”

You only ever wanted a job as a babysitter to make ends meet – falling in love was out of the equation – but with the magic presented right in front of you, you weren’t going to push it away, and neither did Jin. This time, you embraced each other wholeheartedly, pink hearts floating in the air while the strawberry-haired baby giggled in your presence, delighted that now his family was whole.

#itadori jin x reader #itadori jin #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen romance #jjk #jjk itadori jin #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #jjk romance #uh idk how else to tag this but anyways have some jin content #JIN SIMPS UNITE #HE'S THE BEST DAD FUFU

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hongism · 4 years

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touch of the devil - k.hongjoong 18+

↣ pairing: hongjoong x fem!reader | ao3 version (mxm seongjoong) ↣ genre: angst, fluff if you SQUINT, nsfw, fantasy, supernatural, demon!hongjoong, emo rocker!hongjoong, there do be plot tho. ↣ wc: 9.0k ↣ summary: you came to make a deal with a devil sure, but this is the last thing you were expecting out of a night in a dingy bar. ↣ warnings: explicit smut, mention of death, demons, it’s actually really heavy on plot and angst and less focused on the smut ↣ a/n: again i know it’s my birthday but this is my present to you guys, i am a person who prefers to give rather than receive on my birthday and this was the first thing i wanted to work on during my hiatus!! i’ve got so much inspo and motivation rn that it’s crazy and i can’t wait to have everything all set out for you guys when im back :3

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Everything about the air around you is heady and thick in a way that chokes you as you step through the fogged bar. This isn’t your sort of scene – not one you would typically find yourself frequenting on a Friday evening without even so much as the company of a friend – and yet here you stand with hands pressed into the pockets of your black leather jacket. There remains a dull thrum in the atmosphere of the club, a steady rhythm of bass and vibrations that makes your ears ring but you do your best to ignore it in favor of reaching the bartender.

“Just a rum and coke please,” you murmur, hand sneaking out of your pocket to lay a few bills flat against the wood counter. You tug your ID card out as well and flash it in the man’s direction when he raises an eyebrow at you, but upon seeing it, he relents and steps away from you to get the drink.

The question remains of why exactly you are in such a dismal and hopeless scene full of people too drunk off their rockers to even fumble around the bar with some sense of dignity. You, who is neither dismal or hopeless yourself nor are you drunk in the slightest (at least not yet).

The answer is simple. This is a breeding ground, a festering cesspool of desires and greed, and it is the prime place to find what you are looking for in terms of deals with the devil. Maybe not one specific devil, but certainly whatever demon you can get your hands on tonight. And you have quite the lot to choose from it seems, because as you glance around the neon-lit building, you can spot many pairs of red eyes glinting under the lights. You know you have no right to be picky — any and all of them will get the job done — but you can’t help but to note that none of them are as appealing as you imagined they would be. When your friend said that these demons thrived off of lust and appeal, you figured that meant they would purposefully up the ante in terms of physical appearances.

The disdain must show on your features as the bartender begins to speak again as he sets your drink down before you on the counter.

“None of them are for you,” he utters, and you twist back to look him in the eye.

“What do you mean?” You inquire, chin tilting to the side in question, and the man huffs out a small laugh.

“They have their prey already. Picked ‘em the second they walked through the door. All it takes is one look to figure out what these needy people crave from them, what appearances they need to take, what voices to use, what outfits to wear. For people like you, though, something more is required before the real games begin.” He points a single bony finger at your face, staring you down over the length of his digit like it’s the barrel of a gun, and that has you shifting in your seat a bit.

“Something… more?”

“One must have a particular level of certainty before coming to make a deal with a demon, ma’am. But you — you don’t seem to truly know what it is you want. And for that reason, the King will see you with no ruses or deception.”

On the contrary, I wouldn’t have dared set foot in here if I didn’t know what it is I wanted, you want to say. However, your attention is held rapt by his final sentence, the one that held unspoken promise to it.

“And by that you mean physical alterations?”

“You catch on quickly, Miss.” The man leans forward, tongue darting out to swipe over his lower lip, and you glance over the motion only once before pushing away from the counter. He notes the slight annoyance in your features a moment later. “The King will like you quite a bit.”

“When can I expect for this ‘King’ to present himself?” You prop an elbow up on the counter and give one last forlorn glance around the bar in the hopes that someone will come over your way, but it’s to no avail.

“Patience, human. The show hasn’t even begun yet.” He motions towards the middle of the bar, the starkly empty space with a glossy stage set in the center with only a microphone held delicately in its stand and nothing else. You had been hoping to make this a speedy trip — a quick in and out with your deal made and nothing else — but it seems you won’t be having that luxury. And it is a bit frustrating, honestly, to come to this place with the expectation of having a demon cater to you and your wants only to be told that you aren’t certain enough for these supernatural beings, so you’ll have to wait on a demon who won’t cater to you or come to you immediately.

You take a quick swig of your alcohol with the desperate hope that perhaps drinking will make you more certain of what you want, although you already know it won’t. The bartender offers a shrug in response to your annoyance then pulls away to tend to other customers, and you take it as an invitation to swivel in your stool and face the stage. It’s still fucking empty, but at least it gives you a better view than the old wood of the counter that now sits under your elbows.

“Leave it to men to make me wait on them, demon or not,” you mutter under your breath, breath fogging the side of your glass a bit.

You nearly choke on the liquid inside in your next breath because the swirling red neon lights come to a halt on the center of the stage, and the suddenness of the shifting lights startles you so much that you have to sit up straight and inhale deeply to keep from coughing on the alcohol in your mouth. The hazed mist hovering above the floor of the bar seems to swirl towards the stage under the beams of light. You watch the movements as though in a trance, slowly leaning forward until your elbows come to rest on your knees. Out of everyone in the bar, you seem to be the only one interested in what’s going on at the center of the room. Mind you, everyone else is preoccupied: demons with their humans, and humans with the mask-wearing demons who cater to their desires. And while you have no reason to be so intrigued by the scene before you, you truly cannot bring yourself to look away, especially as the dull thrum of music in the bar heightens and gains momentum.

There is no way of describing the sounds rumbling around you. Perhaps if you were fully in your senses, you would be able to distinguish the instruments and beats of the song, but the bass clogs your mind and leaves you squinting at the hazy stage. It could be poetic, the way a lone figure pushes his way through the crowds of the bar like he holds all the power in the universe, studded black leather jacket slung around his shoulders. And as the red lights come over him, you can see his features better. Dusty brown hair that shines a bit, one side exposed and cut shorter than the other, which has bangs that hang loose over the side of his face. Metal bars line both ears, another near the end of his left brow, and a final more intricate one that loops around the middle of his lip and connects to two long metal chains. You follow the path of those chains with your eyes, watching them trail downwards until they loop around his chest and disappear behind his jacket. It’s just a black turtleneck that he wears underneath the dramatic leather regalia and chains but somehow he makes the garment look expensive. You dare glance a bit lower, just enough to make out the frayed and distressed jeans that cling to his skin like a vice, leaving hints of enticing skin underneath to peek through. You can’t see his feet thanks to the fog, but you can practically hear his footsteps drumming in your ears with the rise and fall of his shoes.

Simply put, you are entranced by the sight of this man — if he can even be called that, because you wouldn’t find yourself at all surprised should he reveal himself to be a demon on the tail end of this encounter. He barely looks up from the floor on his trek to the stage, only stopping when he comes before the mic stand and exhales against it in a way that sends shivers down your spine. It’s hardly reasonable for any creature to hold your attention in the palm of his hand the way this one does, but there is no chance of you looking away now, especially as his voice begins to drawl through the microphone and coat your ears like honey. There are words, you recognize enough in the music to know that it should be a song you’re familiar with, but none of them truly process in your daze.

It’s all you can do to just sit there and watch his performance. Between the gentle sways of his shoulders and hips, the teasing drag of his tongue over his lower lip whenever there is a break in his lyrics, and the overall intoxicating nature his aura exudes, you are hooked on every breath he takes. You don’t realize how relaxed your body has become under his spell until it’s too late, and that happens to be the last note of the song as well. It is accentuated with the drop of the glass in your hand and a sharp shatter of the cup against the floor. And just as you inhale a startled gasp and break out of your reverie, his deep crimson eyes flicker over to find yours across the bar. Those twisting lips churn something ugly in your gut. You can’t find the strength in your body to move.

“Mine.”

Your heart leaps in your chest as the word leaves his lips, and while you can’t hear it grate against your ears, you can clearly read his lips enough to know what he’s saying.

His eyes glint a bit in the darkness. It shouldn’t leave you wanting more, but that bitter taste of curiosity is nipping at the back of your throat, and you are far too intrigued to turn back now. You just want more. If he seems to understand that at all from the gleam in your eyes, he makes good on it, stepping off the stage and letting his hand drag over the mic in a way that is almost tantalizing. Step after step, he comes closer to you with his lips still curled into a smirk, and the way the lights hit him makes him seem to glisten and glow in the darkness. You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until he breaches your personal space and you release a shaky exhale that seems to fog in the air between you. He stretches a hand out to close the space between your bodies and curls his index finger under your chin. The touch is simultaneously hot and cold — your whole body seems to light on fire under it, yet at the same time, the chill in your bones deepens to an alarming degree.

“What is it you desire above all other things?” You can hear him now, loud and clear, and whilst you heard his singing beforehand, the simple rasp and lilt to his regular tone is something that has you unashamedly weak in the knees. “I can give you everything,” he whispers as he presses closer to you. Your knees brush against his form but he keeps on pushing forward until he’s slotted himself between them. The chain hanging from his lips rattles like a chime, singing its unknown song like church bells in the night, although you are far from God and heaven now. “All you need to do is ask.”

You cling to some semblance of reason while you can, knowing full well that it will all leave you soon enough, but for now, it lets you choke out a single statement that has the demon before you laughing under his breath.

“That’s not how it works.”

“And who are you to tell me how it works?” His finger curls a bit harder at your chin, and you can feel the blunt of his nail scraping over your skin. Your eyes are glued to his, so enamored and consumed that you can’t even think to look anywhere else.

In that moment, it is as though the universe is nothing but a speck of dust in the corner of your vision. Something so raw and whole like the man standing before you is all-powerful and vigilant in a way that has every nerve in your body at full attention, ready for whatever his next step might be. And that turns out to be quite the curveball as it seems because he leans closer to you, breath intermingling with yours, and you subconsciously curve your back into his touch to reach him closer. Still, even though you physically show how ready and desperate for the touch you are, he waits and glances over your features.

“What is it you desire from me, human?”

You have to vehemently restrain yourself from simply saying ‘you’ and getting on with it.

“Your name.”

“Is that all you would have from me?” As a demon, it is his life’s work to know the inner-workings of the festering desires of humans. You have no doubt in your mind that he knows exactly what is it you want, even if you are not sure of it yourself, and you do not doubt that he won’t use that to his advantage either. But that’s what you asked for in coming here, and that is exactly what you both expected and wanted out of this.

Perhaps it is shameful, but just for once, you wanted to surrender control. Too often are you asked to have everything set out and planned and under control, and too often do you find yourself wanting someone to just tell you what it is you should do. That could be why the bartender labeled you as ‘uncertain’ because even in this moment of vulnerability, there is still the thinnest thread of thought tethering you to that control. And as of now, you want nothing more than for this demon before you to break that thread.

“I would have your name before I asked for anything else from you. Calling you demon over and over would certainly wear out its welcome, no?”

“That all depends on the context, my dear. But… you can call me Hongjoong, if that’s suitable to your tongue.”

“Hongjoong,” you try, testing the way the name rolls off your tongue in such a delicate manner that the demon before you flutters his lashes a bit.

“Sounds so pretty coming from lips so innocent.” He tilts his head to the side, and the movement flashes the pretty expanse of skin below his jaw. You aren’t shy in the way you let your gaze slip over it before trailing back up to meet his eyes again. “Would you close your eyes for me, doll?” He doesn’t have to ask. He could just make you do so with no resistance but still, he asks as though you could say no if you wanted to. You don’t though, and as such, your eyelids fall shut and your vision turns to black for the time being. “Do you know who I am?”

“Th-The bartender called you the King.”

“And do you understand what that means? Truly understand with every fiber of your being?” The question is heavy on your bones, and it is one that you feel like you should know the answer to yet you can’t find any response to his inquiry. Perhaps he means to confuse you because you hear the soft huff of a laugh fall from his lips. “King of the Underworld, Lord of the Dead. Some would call me Pluto, others Hades, it varies from religion to religion and in every culture. Sometimes I pick up rather banal and common names, other times I find myself seeking something extravagant and luxurious. Now… Hongjoong will be a good middle-ground for us.”

You should be falling to the floor in absolute shock due to his words, but the steady finger under your chin keeps you steady. That and the growing fear in your gut as you come to realize that this man holds so much power in just his pinky finger and could absolutely crush you under his heel whenever he wishes. What are you to a god besides an insignificant fleck of dust on the pavement?

“And what of your appearance? Is that… manifested as well?” You dare to ask.

“I have many faces, yes, but this one is one I wear boldly and frequently. You could say it is my natural form. After so many millennia of fantastical myths and legends, however, I’m sure that would seem odd to you.”

“Are you truly a demon then?”

“King of demons, yes. Whether I am truly a demon myself is something that could be ambiguous, I suppose, but if they are all part of my creations, then would that not make me one myself? Though you could say they are all fragments of my own being, making them all mythical gods. It’s all a matter of perspective; however, I doubt that you came searching this place for a lesson on perspectives.”

“No, I came for…” You trail off, and that blossoming uncertainty from before presents itself again.

“There are two things your heart wants right now. One, I can give you with ease and grace, only if you would allow it. That desire is a fleeting one, however, and I do not think it is what you are truly after in being here. The second… that is a wish I cannot deliver, and I think you are more than aware of that. The reason everyone left you to me is because of what you want. It is a domain only I could ever touch.”

You blink your eyes open in haste, searching his deep crimson gaze for some sort of confirmation of the words. The demon dares to look forlorn and lets his stare drop to the floor rather than looking you directly in the eye. Confusion blossoms in your gut. Yes, you figured there was a slim chance that your wish could not be granted, but still you clung to the desperate hope that maybe there was just a small window of opportunity for such a wish to be granted.

“Death is irreversible,” the demon, Hongjoong as he wishes to be called, says in a quiet tone. “I cannot give that which you want more than anything else.”

“Then what can you give?” You ask, squeezing your eyes shut as tight as possible to keep your emotions from slipping out the corners.

“One of two things: I can give you time to speak with him once more or I can make you forget the pain.”

“And if I choose the latter?”

“It would make you forget everything about him and leave you with no memory of him at all.” Hongjoong exhales a small sigh, the bouncing rhythms of the bass rumbling against your ears along with the sounds of his breaths. “You need not decide right this instant. The payment will be the same either way, so we can settle that first if you’d like.”

“W-Wait,” you stammer. You dare to open your eyes once more. “How would I be able to speak to him if you can’t bring him back?”

“I cannot bring him back the way you want. He… he is gone, and though I am the King of the Dead, there are powers even I do not have. Bringing him back to life is impossible, but I can create a doorway for the two of you to speak through for a short period of time. I have no control over how long it would be, just a forewarning. That is all up to him and his willingness to see you.”

“I can’t imagine he wouldn’t want to see me,” you murmur, but the pang in your chest tells you otherwise.

“Sometimes, death and the underworld change fundamental parts of people. They are no longer alive, after all, and as such, those human vices and personality traits dissipate. How you knew him in life could be vastly different than the spirit who now resides in my domain. It is all a matter of weighing risks, my dear. What matters most to you? Remembering him or him remembering you?”

“So if I ask to see him, I would remember him but there’s a chance that he would have no recollection of me? And should I ask to forget, there will be no way of knowing whether he remembers me in the afterlife or not?”

“Precisely.”

That is a hefty bargain to weigh. It is almost too much for your shoulders just to think about it. One is starkly more selfish than the other, but if he’s dead, what good will selflessness do you? It won’t bring him back, that’s for sure. Either you are left with the painful realization that he does not have any memory of you in the afterlife, or you forget it all to avoid that pain. Maybe thinking about the payment before deciding would be a good idea after all.

“As for the payment? How many years do I owe you?” Demons have no use for human currency or trinkets that could be traded for favors. You can barter the only thing you have — years of life. Whether it shortens your lifespan or turns you into a personal slave for a certain amount of time, that is a price you must be willing to pay for such services. You are more than prepared to barter it all off right now if need be.

“None,” Hongjoong answers coolly, and you quirk a brow upwards at the nonchalance in his tone. “I do not deal in years of life. Not often, at least. My abilities are bound in… passion. Lovemaking, fornication, sex, fucking – whatever you wish to call it. Of course, it wouldn’t have to be that exactly, should you not desire that. The other option is a blood pact, a ritual that would take hours to complete, although both could take quite some time depending on your stamina.” There’s a breath of silence that allows Hongjoong’s lips to twist into a suggestive grin, and heat brushes the base of your neck as you fight off waves of embarrassment. “I cannot guarantee that the blood pact would be painless. With sex, I could at least provide some comfort that the pain would only be temporary; however, the choice is yours. Both are binding and would mean that you could never make a deal with another demon again, and you would be marked as mine for eternity.”

“What does being yours entail?”

“Nothing diabolical or unsavory, I promise. Just… when the time comes for you to pass on and join the Underworld, you would take a place at my side.”

“How many people have you laid claim to? Did they all agree to the same terms? How can I trust your word?” The questions tumble from your lips without relent.

“For what you desire, the cost is far less than what I would usually ask for. Those lucky enough to deal with me in the past paid less for their debts. The blood pact… the fornication… both are binding elements. The real cost is your service. Most have agreed to give me their servitude in the afterlife, all with their own places in my domain. That is what you would be offering as well. You will live just as long as you would without making this deal but make up for it after your death.”

“And that’s it?”

Hongjoong’s eyes twinkle a bit under the lights above your heads.

“What did you expect from me, doll? Savagery? Unfairness? Everyone deserves a fair price for what they want, regardless of station in life or status in society.”

“Deal,” you utter without any more hesitation, blinking up into Hongjoong’s dark orbs. There lies a lingering sense of regret in your gut, one that you cannot chase away no matter how hard you try, but you do not need to dwell on it any longer.

“And how would you like to bind our deal, my dear? Neither can be handled immediately. The blood pact requires special preparations for the ritual, but the other — I would not have you in such a place as dirty as this.”

“I-I, um, sex will work just fine,” you bite out, the skin of your cheek caught between your teeth.

“Then when the time comes that you are ready with your decision on what it is you truly want, all you need to do is take this—” Hongjoong retracts his hand from where it rests gently against the column of your throat and digs into one of his pockets. He pulls out a gilded card, one that is black and gold with flecks of red across the surface, but there are no other adornments to the material. “Tear it in half and it will bring you to our meeting place, and I will join you there to seal the deal. Should you decide that you do not want this after all, then all you need to do is burn the card. The decision lies in your hands, and yours alone.” He has to lift one of your limp hands and forcefully place the card into your waiting palm, closing his fingers around yours to make you cling to the item.

“I – th-thank you,” you stammer as you blink from your closed hand to Hongjoong’s features.

“The pleasure is all mine, doll.”

Those are the last words you hear from the demon before he slips away from you, the dense fog lingering in the air swirling up around his body, and within moments, his shadowy form disappears entirely from sight. The air grows cold around you once more. You are left with only the fleeting desire for that warmth to return, for you to feel less alone than you are in that moment, and even if it’s the briefest visit ever you just want one last chance to tell your lost lover how you feel without mistakes this time.

///

The night, as per usual, is cold and unforgiving. It allows for too many opportunities to be alone with lost feelings and thoughts. It has been weeks (if not months) since you visited that dingy club and your fateful meeting with none other than the King of the Dead. Yet you are still here, wallowing in the memories that you’ve been left to suffer with alone, and the gilded black card sits in your nightstand untouched. You open the drawer just to stare at it from time to time, when the nights are particularly rough, and it already had begun collecting a thin layer of dust the last few times you looked at it.

It isn’t that you haven’t made your decision about what you want from your deal with Hongjoong. The more terrifying fact is that you are fully aware of what it is you want, and you simply cannot rectify the guilt that comes along with the pure selfishness of your decision. The feeling is so potent that it swarms your every thought. You know it wouldn’t be an issue once you meet with Hongjoong; the demon will take it all away and leave you with nothing. You won’t even know enough to be guilty any longer, but the pain of committing to the decision is strong enough to make you sick to your stomach.

Wooyoung — the one who suggested you go to the club and make the deal in the first place — will not shut up about how worried he is about you. You won’t recall the deal or why you made it, so what’s holding you back? A temporary guilt that won’t exist longer than a few seconds once you’re actually in Hongjoong’s presence? As he said, you just need to swallow the feeling and get on with it. Prolonging the regrets any longer won’t do you any good.

You huff out a quiet laugh in the silence of your darkened room. The black gilded card taunts you again now, gleaming up at you through the shadows with its faint hints of gold and red. Maybe Wooyoung is right and the only way to get rid of missed opportunities is to forget about them entirely. Yeosang was but a chapter in your life, one that is past and gone now, and as Hongjoong said, there is no reversing death. Seeing him one last time won’t give you anything but pain.

You stretch a shaky hand towards the card in the drawer. It’s cold to the touch, dust billowing up with even the slightest touch of your fingers. You have to dig your nail under the material to pull it up, and once it’s safely set in your palm, you drag your thumb over the surface to brush the dirt away. No words on the surface, no sign that it has been touched by a demon, and not even a hint as to what it could possibly be for.

It is surprisingly flexible, at least moreso than you would have imagined, and you give it a few testing bends to see how easy it would be to break. Hongjoong simply gave you the instruction to tear it in half and that was all. You don’t expect him to suddenly materialize before you on a whim, but surely such a creation is bound by some sort of magic on his part. It is hard enough to believe that demons are real living creatures, but magic as well? Maybe you’ve passed on and just don’t realize it yet. Still, you exhale one last huff of air into the darkness before letting your eyes flutter shut. Taking the card between your hands, you begin to slowly rip the material until it separates with the force, torn in two mismatched pieces.

Nothing fantastical happens.

That fact alone is so overwhelmingly disappointing that you really think for a moment that Hongjoong was just some goth rocker in a stoner bar who pulled an elaborate trick on you. It can’t be too difficult to get your hands on some weird red-toned contacts and weave some elaborate story about being the King of Hell. You could do that yourself. Why did you think he was incapable of such a charade?

Because he knew what you wanted without you having to say it.

Yes, well, Wooyoung claimed that your regrets and grief were evident in your features every time he looked at you. Maybe Hongjoong could see it as well.

You fall back onto your bed, flattening your back against the mattress with a small shout of frustration. The urge to cry is strong; if you’ve spent all these weeks uselessly worrying over something that could all be a farce, you don’t even know how you would react. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, blinking away the tears that blossom in the corners there as best you can. The rolling emotions in your system distract you from the sudden shift in temperature, and before you know it heat washes over you and fills the void of cold in your body. You jerk but refuse to sit up quite yet, eyes flying open in your shock only to choke on air as a bright golden light fills your vision and swarms you with warmth. The cushion under your body doesn’t feel the same either; it is not your bed, it’s too plush and soft, too warm under you, and you feel like you are absolutely drowning in the sensation.

Gold flickers above you, twinkling lights that glisten like small stars above you, and the ceiling is so dark that you nearly think it’s just an opening to the night sky. You sit up in a mad panic. The gold and red decorations littering the far too lavish room barely process in your vision as you look for a way out, and you don’t even see the figure coming up along your side until he’s upon you. A hand stretches out to brush over your forehead. You nearly shriek in your state of terror, but the sound is all but stolen from your lungs instead.

“It’s only me, doll. You’re safe.”

Hongjoong. Ah, Hongjoong. Then… he was telling the truth. It wasn’t a farce or a deception meant to be a game. He claimed to be the Devil Incarnate, and here he stands before you in a room too rich and exquisite for words. You can’t find it in you to think he’s lying now.

You dare to glance up and meet his gaze, finding it so soft on your face that you have the audacity to blush under his stare despite the things you’ll be doing with him soon enough.

“Have you made your decision then?” He asks, tone soft and light. It isn’t one that demands an immediate answer. You know he could ask what took you so long to decide, complain about your hesitance, say that you kept him waiting for far too long — instead, he exudes patience with you, hand slowly combing over your forehead down to your cheek and brushing over the skin there with a touch so featherlight that you almost don’t realize it’s there at all.

“I-I have,” you whisper like the two of you aren’t the only ones in the room and it’s a secret meant only for your ears.

“What would you have from me first then? As I told you before, the payment is the same regardless of your decision, and as such, we can bind the deal first if you’d rather.”

You swallow around nothing. There is no harm in going through with the decision now, but your nerves are so frazzled and out of sorts that you almost desire the sex simply as a means of stress relief. Hongjoong steps in front of you, fully coming into view, and you are shocked at how… mundane he looks. You blink fervently at the man — demon, rather — and take in the gentle part of his hair, the soft glow of his skin that makes him look simply ethereal under this light. He hardly looks like a demon to you; his features are too smooth and perfect for that, from the curves of his lips to the even line of his nose. Although you suppose that’s all he wants you to see, yet it still seems oddly intimate to a certain degree.

“You aren’t worried that I’ll try to run away after my wish is fulfilled?” You ask. Hongjoong arches his brows at you, and his neutral expression slips into one of momentary shock.

“Where are you going to go, my dear? I brought you to this place, and you will need me to send you back once we’re done here.”

It sinks in at that moment how you are completely at his mercy right now. Not that you had any plans of running away, but the question was moreso just to test the waters, see if he is truly as merciful as his features make him out to be. The underlying danger in his tone proves your point and sends a chill down your spine.

“Is that something I ought to be worried about, doll? Should I claim you now to make sure you keep your end of the bargain?” The question sits on your ear like warm honey. It chokes you, fills your senses with Hongjoong’s scent, and you almost find yourself leaning into his curling lips before catching yourself. That seems to pique his interest in the very least, and his smile twists a bit more. “The decision is in your hands as always. I won’t do anything you don’t give me explicit permission to do.”

“Permission granted,” you mutter before catching a hand on Hongjoong’s collar. “Do it all.” You aren’t too worried about damaging his clothes as he’s not wearing anything drastically fancy or expensive-looking, and thus you twist your fist into a ball around the fabric of his black tee and yank him down to your height. He bends at the waist, hands catching on the mattress before his forehead can smack hard against yours. There’s a bit of tension in his neck, and that keeps him far enough back so that he doesn’t kiss you quite yet. It’s almost as though he is waiting for something else, eyes carefully tracing your features with great care before he settles on your lips, and a sharp inhale of breath follows before that thin line in his composure snaps.

His lips hit yours with a surprising amount of force, and the kiss isn’t at all what you were expecting — well, to be more accurate, you aren’t quite sure what you were expecting in the first place. It’s much more pleasant than you could have imagined though, and Hongjoong isn’t shy with the touch at all. His tongue is quick to swipe over your lower lip, hands darting upwards to brush over your sides before reaching your face, and he brings a knee down on the mattress to support his weight as he leans over you. You follow the motion when he pushes forward and lean back until you have no choice but to scoot back on the bed. Hongjoong moves with you with the same amount of fervor, still pressed to your lips without relent, and you don’t even think to stop as he completely drapes himself over your body, knees still up and supporting his weight. The cushion of the mattress dips by your head, a telltale sign that he’s placed his hands there, and you use that as your opportunity to stop for air. Hongjoong surely has no need to breathe like you do since he is undead, but he still pants above you, chest heaving as a pretty flush rises to his cheeks.

“Putting that much power in a demon’s hands is dangerous, is it not?” He mutters. You let your lashes flutter shut as he moves back to your lips, hot breath ghosting over your skin. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“I’ll tell you if it’s something I don’t like,” you murmur, opening an eye to peek at him. He meets your gaze with a soft laugh, but your answer seems to please him enough to bring his attention back to your lips. You inhale as his tongue breaches your mouth and pushes into the wet cavern inside. There’s no chance for you to fight back for any sort of dominance because he only thrusts deeper and coats the inside of your mouth with his taste until you can feel his tongue brushing over your palate. A quiet moan reverberates through your throat and against his lips. You feel the barest hint of a smile in the kiss, then his lips are suddenly gone from yours. You gasp for air with the freedom. Heat pools in the depths of your gut, a pleasant one that leaves you wanting more, and you aren’t sure if it’s simply been so long since you last had sex or if Hongjoong truly has that effect on you.

He returns to touching your body a moment later, hands trailing to the row of buttons on your nightshirt, and one by one, he pulls them apart until the material is barely clinging to your skin. His lips replace his fingers then. First at your jaw placing a wet trail of kisses and soft nips that leave you with goosebumps. Then he reaches the midpoint of your sternum and rests the flat of his tongue there, tasting and teasing your skin until you can do nothing but writhe under him because he is taking so damn long. Your impatience is laughable to him, as evidenced by the quiet huff of air that leaves him next.

“I want to taste every inch of you,” he mumbles against the skin of your stomach, hands pulling your nightshirt away to expose more of the skin underneath. He makes good on his words, and that damn tongue traces lower and lower until he reaches the band of your pants and underwear. You instinctively dart a hand down to tangle in his hair. “F-Fuck.” The curse slips out when you give an accidental tug to the hair close to his nape, and you nearly think that you’ve hurt him in some manner until you catch sight of the blissed-out expression on his features.

“D-Do you — can I…?”

“Do it harder while I eat you out,” he growls. His fingers close hard around the remainders of your close, and you don’t even have time to nod before he’s yanking both your pants and underwear down in one fell swoop. It leaves you more than a little exposed — you’re suddenly nearly nude before the demon who is still fully clothed, and that realization draws your thighs tight together in a sudden rush of embarrassment. You swallow hard around nothing, eyes darting away from Hongjoong’s prying gaze.

All of a sudden, he shrugs your hand off his hair and sits back on his heels. You don’t understand what his reasoning is until you settle your eyes back on his body. He’s leaned back to start stripping layers of clothes off in a rush, hands fumbling and struggling to pull them away in an orderly manner. There is no composure to his actions, only a hastened fervor that has him tossing his shoes far from the bed along with random articles of clothes until he’s laid fully bare before you. You really try your hardest not to glance down at his… you know, but the urge is overwhelming. Before you can even catch a glimpse, however, Hongjoong is on you again, hands latched around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed as he kneels before you on the floor. The sudden movement has you squealing in surprise, and that noise is broken off into a startled moan when Hongjoong’s lips brush through your folds without warning.

“O-Oh god,” you gasp out. Hongjoong’s tongue gives a long and dragging pull through your heat, teasing some of the juices out of you with little restraint.

“Far from it actually,” he replies against your clit. A cheeky grin eats away at his features, but it quickly disappears as he returns his focus to your cunt. Your hand finds its way back down to his hair once more and tugs hard at the strands. Each tweak of his tongue through your folds has your legs jerking a bit, and he has to tighten his grip on your thighs to keep you from moving so much under his touch.

“I’m not — I w-won’t last, pl-please, I–” You can’t even finish the sentence as Hongjoong flicks the tip of his tongue right over your clit and cuts you off. He repeats that same motion, again and again, brings you right to the precipice of an orgasm only to tear you back down from it with soft kisses pressed to the outside of your folds. You can’t keep track of how many times he repeats that process, but it is more than enough to have you shaking from exhaustion and desperation even though you haven’t even been able to come yet.

“Are you going to beg for it, doll?” Hongjoong hums after what feels like hours of pleasurable torture. “I promised to make you feel good, did I not? You just have to tell me what you want.” His words are so taunting that it burns you with embarrassment. The need for that orgasm hangs on every nerve ending of your body, and you could cry just out of the need to come.

“Please,” you whisper in a tone broken from constant moans and cries.

“Be more specific.” It’s so cruel. He dangles the promise of pleasure before your eyes again, this time nipping ever so gently at your bud, and you really do cry this time, fingers digging harshly on his scalp. That draws a prolonged growl from his lips, and it reverberates against you so nicely that you could come from that. Hongjoong pulls his head back too soon though and the sensation is dashed away.

“N-No, no, please. P-Please, Hongjoong, I — please let me come. I need it, I need it so badly. Shit, just – just please let me come,” you wail as tears slip out the corners of your eyes and spill onto the sheets under you. That’s the breaking point for him as well, or so it would seem, because the next time his mouth brushes through your cunt, he doesn’t relent. You come undone on his tongue, riding out the waves of your intense orgasm as he fucks his wet muscle into your heat. He won’t stop chuckling either — a low noise that just prolongs the pleasure and makes you quiver from overstimulation. He doesn’t let up until a dry and choked sob pushes past your lips.

Suddenly he is back up on the bed, bent over your body to be eye to eye with you. His fingers trace over your wet cheeks then clasp hard around your jaw.

“Too much?”

“N-No,” you stammer through the wet cries. “So good. So so good.”

“Mm, can you take my cock too, doll?” He all but purrs the words against your skin. His soft and trailing kisses return to your skin, peppering the line of your jaw just past his fingers.

“Yes, please, I c-can. Please. I want i-it all.” You never thought you could sound so overwhelmingly desperate, but the tumbling sensation that swerves through your stomach as Hongjoong’s demeanor shifts has you falling into absolute shambles. He shifts your position, pushing you up higher to rest against the pillows, and you start to drape your legs around his waist. That must not be the position he had in mind though, because his hand clamps down hard on one of your calves and pushes it to the top of his shoulder. Before you can even blink, he does the same with your other leg, effectively folding you in half and into a position you weren’t even aware that your body was capable of. That shock is momentary as you feel the tip of what must his cock rubbing over your pulsating hole. You can’t do anything but ball your fists around the sheets under you and cling to them like a vice. It’s the only thing that can prepare you for his girth; the stretch may not be as much as you thought it would be, but it still stings like a bitch even after he bottoms out in you. That pain must be showing on your features – in the way your brows are tightly knit together and your eyes are screwed shut so that excess tears from earlier slip out.

The soft caress of lips touches your forehead. It’s so gentle and delicate that you nearly miss it in your efforts to grow used to the sensation between your legs, but Hongjoong repeats it time and time again until your breathing steadies and your chest stops heaving as much. It’s only then that he dares to resituate his hips. You crack an eye open to look at him, and it’s abundantly clear that he’s trying his hardest to hold back and keep from fucking into you with reckless abandon.

“I’m okay now,” you whisper, pulling a hand off the bedsheets to brush some loose strands of hair out of Hongjoong’s vision. “Please fuck me as hard as you’d like.” You snake the same hand around the back of his neck. When he still doesn’t move, you offer a sharp tug to the hair that falls over his sweat-slick nape, and that spurs him into action. His hips snap roughly against yours, pushing your back further into the crude curve it’s already in. Now that the dull throbbing pain has dissolved into a sensation of pleasure, you drown yourself in the drag of his member inside you. It’s quite possibly the best feeling you’ve had all night with the way his tip rubs over your bundle of nerves at just the right angle.

Hongjoong drops his elbows to the pillow under your head, and you greet him with a kiss that is mostly just an awkward clash of teeth for the most part. He gains enough composure to shift the angle to one that’s easier for both of you, hips still working hard as he rocks into you with the same force and speed as before. You are so lost in the euphoria that you can’t even feel your next orgasm sneaking up on you, but when it does, it pulls a noiseless scream from your lips. Hongjoong mouths at the corner of your lips as you ride it out. He still seems far off from his own high, even as he slows the pulses of his thrusts. You claw your way back from the high of your orgasm to grip his hair tighter and pull him closer to you.

“In me. I need you to come in me or not at all,” you demand through a huffed out sigh. It’s a moment of throwing caution to the wind, one that is quite worth it thanks to the expression of hunger and lust that fills Hongjoong’s face.

“You can’t just say things like that, doll,” he growls into the shell of your ear. You try to laugh but he interrupts you with a thrust harsher than any of the ones before. Every sound that falls from your lips now is stuttered and broken at the seams, and you let him fuck you with that same level of passion until he finally seems to tire and lose his rhythm. The only warning you have that he’s about to orgasm is the slight whine to his tone when he moans next. You push what strength you have left into clenching hard around his cock, and that is ultimately what tips him over the edge and pulls a delightful moan from his lips as he spills into your tight heat. He releases his hold on your legs, letting them slip away from his shoulders and back into a more comfortable position on the bed, but he refuses to move off your body.

You aren’t sure how long the two of you stay like that: with Hongjoong continually mouthing small kisses to the underside of your jaw and you just staring blankly at the glittering ceiling with a mind nearly empty. However much time passes doesn’t quite matter because once you recover your senses enough to be coherent again, you recall what is supposed to come next. Shaky hands find their way to Hongjoong’s arms and trail up to rest atop his back.

“Take it all away,” you exhale through a pant, hands clinging desperately to the milky skin of Hongjoong’s shoulders. “I don’t want to remember him anymore.” His chest heaves against yours, and a few loose strands of dark hair fall forward to stick to his sweat-slick forehead. This time when he kisses you, it is hot and searing, a brand against your lips, one that burns the inside of your mouth and sets your tongue alight. The sensation slips down the back of your throat, fills your gut, burns you from the inside out, and all your thoughts go hazy under the touch of his lips. With that one kiss, Hongjoong takes it all away. He gives into your desires, heeds your wishes, and grants you the ultimate peace and serenity you so deeply craved. He continues to cling to you like he’s never held something so desperately or lost in his infinite existence. You return the embrace in full while you can, strength already leaving you in the afterglow of your fornication, and you rake your nails down over his back if only to leave him with some sort of trophy to leave with. He is already leaving with your memories though, a trophy to hold close to his heart should there ever be a time when you ask for them to be returned to you. Perhaps in your afterlife, you’ll ask for them back, and Hongjoong would gladly give them should it be what you desire.

That is what he is, after all. As much as he takes, the Demon King of the Underworld gives in return, where he can with what he can. His duty, his bond, the sole purpose for his existence is to maintain that balance between giving and taking. But if it’s for you — a creature so lost, dismal, and hopeless — perhaps he can tip the scales a bit further in your direction.

At least, that’s what he thinks as you curve your body into his and press your lips with more fervor than before. That maybe, just maybe, endless years of his own hopelessness and confusion were all meant to lead him to finding this: a purpose in his undying life.

﹎﹎﹎

#atzinc #kdiarynet #kwritersworldnet #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong angst #hongjoong imagine #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong oneshot #hongjoong scenarios

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boop-le-snoot · 3 years

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hot wheels | natasha romanoff x reader

explicit, 5,2k words, f/f. meet-ugly but still very much wholesome. we love a girlboss. natasha catches some random woman keying her brand new car but decides to be the better person for once and hear the woman out. turns out, being the better person can even get one laid! warnings: singular use of the d-slur, references to an abusive ex, lesbian sex.

[no y/n, no "you", nickname only, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns]

Natasha gave the tall, lanky boy an unimpressed look as she side-stepped the arguing couple to avoid colliding with the annoyed, teary-eyed woman the boy was groveling to. It was nearing rush hour and there was shopping to be done before the heavy NYC traffic could steer her already busy schedule down into an unmanageable chaos.

"But, Foxy, you know I didn't mean it! I love you, more than anything!"

The items on the spy's list were checked off methodically, item after item landing in the cart with a quiet thud as the redhead maneuvered through the isles with tactical precision. The usual afternoon crowd began to fill the store, taking up the so-needed breathing space; Natasha's shopping trip wasn't a moment of leisure and with her neverending to-do list full, she hurried to the self-check-out register, flying through the motions mindlessly.

Scan, place, beep, boop, pay, load up the bags, make way to the car, load up and pedal to the metal.

Scratch that. No, scratch - Natasha's eyes bulged as she neared her shiny, brand new Charger, seeing the obvious defects even from a mile away: the paint, previously cherry red and gleaming in the sun, ruined by a series of thin, gray lines, standing out unpleasantly on the otherwise pristine vehicle.

And the culprit, who's tuft of hair peeked over the hood of the car on the other side of the Charger, almost fully hidden between her car and the large Chevrolet in the next parking spot over.

Natasha's fingers clenched around the handle of the cart as she fought the urge to reach for her knife safely holstered under her leather jacket. "Excuse me?" Tone quiet and deadly, the spy prepared herself to fight or at least slightly shake up the hooligan.

The figure froze, vaguely familiar clothing and a puffy, tear-stained face slowly rising from behind Natasha's car. "In my defense, he deserves it," the girl - Foxy - the one that was arguing in front of the store earlier, declared through a stream of angry tears. "Call the cops if you want, I don't care." It was unclear if the girl recognised her, the Black Widow, as she made no move to run for the hills, just pathetically sniffled, pocketing the keys she used to scratch Natasha's car.

"That's my car," The spy responded flatly, a great deal of amusement crawling into her face as Foxy's eyes bulged, jaw fell slack, horror plain and evident overshadowing the waterworks. Natasha quickly pieced two and two together but patiently waited for the initial shock to subside before popping a question. "A word of advice, if I may?"

Foxy nodded, dumbfounded, frantically scrambling for the contents of her pockets, searching for something with the agility of a panicking cat, more than half of the contents spilling out onto the ground.

Natasha unlocked the car, popping the trunk and loading in her bags as she raised her voice to be heard over the noise of a busy parking lot. "Don't mess with the paint, the insurance will cover it. Slash three tires - not four - or take a swing at the front bumper and the headlights," the trunk slid shut with a quiet click as the spy inspected the damages close-up. Her Charger looked like it was attacked by a pack of aggressive, feral cats with nails of steel. "And always check the number plates before committing acts of vandalism to make sure you're enacting revenge on the right person." The last part was said with a smirk.

As the spy stepped closer to Foxy, she noted the excessive puffiness of her cheeks and the shaking fingers that held a checkbook and a pen. The woman looked torn between terrified and apologetic, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I'm so, so sorry. Todd just got his new car, it's identical to yours and I didn't get the chance to memorize the number plate yet," the offending man's name was said with a pitiful growl. "How much?" She weakly motioned to the ruined bodywork.

"What'd he do?" Natasha didn't resist her curiousity, leaning against the driver's side door and sizing up the other woman. She was pretty, well-dressed and reasonably wealthy on the first sight. "Yeah, he looked like a Todd," The quip slipped from the redhead's lips as she remembered the man from earlier. Foxy looked way too good to be wasting her time on someone who looked like an adolescent that hadn't outgrown his skater boy phase.

Foxy chuckled shyly at Natasha's remark, smoothing a hand over her face. "Lord, where do I even begin..." The sigh was loud and long. "He lived in my apartment rent-free, made me give up my cat by lying about his allergies, went through nine low-wage jobs in two years, did nothing but play video games in his free time and developed a pot addiction, thus spending all his money on it," she began steadily but her tone grew in pitch with every added offence as Natasha's eyebrows climbed higher and higher. "My last straw was when he took out a loan he couldn't pay off to buy his brand new cool car," the words were spat out with venom. "I threw him out last Saturday. He's been following me around all the time," Foxy continued, growing dark in the face. "And then I found out he had been cheating on me for I don't know how long. I just... I just lost it," she finished pathetically, all but crumbling into a pile of human misery.

Natasha's face had frozen into mute disbelief somewhere around the first half of the story, repulsion and astonishment mixing into a flurry of quiet rage on the random woman's behalf. Menfolk were bizarre animals, and as much as the spy felt herself annoyed by her roommates at the tower, she couldn't help but feel relieved that the men surrounding her were far from douchebags of the casual variety. This Todd, however, was no amateur, and had done Foxy really, really dirty.

The redhead made up her mind rather quickly. "That's a lot to unpack," she carefully studied the micro-expressions on the other woman's face. "I have a couple of nice bottles of wine at my place and nobody to share them with. Care for a glass?"

Foxy's eyes widened once more. "I don't- I don't want to take up your time, I mean, I'm sure you've got more important shit to do, like save the world and y'know..." The stammering was followed by a shy look to the side.

So, Foxy had recognised her. And she didn't go running the other way like most people that encountered her in disadvantageous situations did. "I actually don't, I was just getting my shopping done for a lack of better things to do," Natasha lied seamlessly, motioning to the other side of the car. "Hop in." Mission reports and Barton's pizza date could wait.

The woman made quick way around, buckling into the seat in seconds, right before Natasha peeled off from the parking lot towards the Avengers tower at breathtaking speeds. The car was a gift from Tony - one of the rare things he managed to get right - and an absolute pleasure to drive.

"What's your name?" The redhead asked, juggling the steering and her smartphone effortlessly.

The woman rattled of her first and last name on between attempts to fix her runny make-up and wipe the dried snot and tears off her face. "Foxy is a nickname my gramps gave me, said I used to excessively play with fox pelts in the attic when I was a kid," the woman added with a snort, totally oblivious to Natasha's eyebrow raise as the spy read the information on her in-between overtaking slower cars.

Good student, good family life, stable income and good career growth in a prospective sector. What did Foxy even find in a guy like Todd? The most important information, however, was also most pleasing. No ties to any kind of intelligence gathering organizations.

As Natasha parked and popped the trunk once more, the other woman offered a hand with her shopping bags. Friday acknowledged the newcomer, startling her, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and mention, loudly, that if Tony decided to pay them a surprise visit, he may end up castrated or shot on sight, much to Foxy's bashful snickering.

Once the shopping was put away and the wine opened, the spy let herself curl up on the couch opposite the woman who studied her Spartan style apartment with curios eyes. The lack of knick knacks must've been a surprise for her: Natasha's apartment looked bare compared to what she'd seen in other's people's homes but the desire to make the environment more cozy had never been strong enough to actually act upon it. She wasn't used to staying in a place for very long.

"Do you still want to get back at the bastard?" The redhead asked once the first bottle was coming to an end. The alcohol was sitting low, pleasantly warm in their bellies and the food that they'd ordered in the middle of a casual chit-chat lulled them into a state of comfortable stupor.

"I want to gouge his eyes out and wear them as a battle trophy," Foxy was slightly slurring her words, much more affected by the wine than the stoic, experienced agent. "But I guess I can settle for petty crime or arson."

"I'm sensing you didn't tell me the whole list of grievances," true to her words, the spy felt as it there was a possibility quite a few things were being left unsaid.

Foxy sighed once again, placing the empty glass on the table and using her palm to prop her flushed face against it, blankly staring off into the far end of the room. "I came out as bisexual last year and he was giving me so much shit for it. Todd kept pushing for a threesome and when I refused, started accusing me of cheating during our fights, called me a whore a couple of times," the more she spoke, the higher Natasha's anger levels rose.

Not only was a Todd a dick, he was an abusive one. Truly, the grand prize of Asshat Lottery. "I have an idea or three," the spy twirled the remaining red liquid in her glass before downing it. "But it'll have to stay between us two."

"I'm listening," Foxy turned to meet Natasha's face, eyes considerably more alert than seconds before.

A few days past their amicable wine-and-revenge get-together, Natasha's doorbell rang as if she wasn't already had been made aware by Friday that a visitor was coming up to see her. Boxes of hair bleach and dye laid stacked on the living room table, surrounded by jewelry and assorted accessories. A pitcher of fresh sangria topped the ensemble, two clean glasses placed neatly on the tray next to it.

"Hi, Nat," Foxy's smile was a mile wide - a far cry from the sniffling sad sack of a woman the spy had first met. The nickname flowed freely from the woman's lips, as calm as Natasha's own answering grin and greeting. "I gots the stuff," waving her purse about, the woman kicked off her shoes by the door, approaching Natasha with the same smile that seemed to be more effective at lightening up the room than Tony's expensive designer lamps.

As Natasha's plan achieved a solid state, the two women had quickly come to a realization that Natasha was far too recognizable with her signature red hair and over a flurry of text messages, the decision to switch to a warm caramel blonde was made unanimously. Foxy had rebuked any and all Natasha's attempts to affirm she'd be able to do it herself and the spy gave into the other's chiding, relenting to have her hair dyed by a person who at least had a possibility of seeing the back of her head without having to perform acrobatic tricks.

Foxy was an easygoing, non-problematic person. She was fun to have around, quiet but witty, with intelligent eyes and a realistic view on the world. It was something Natasha valued, alongside the lack of probing questions regarding her past or her job - her insides clenched uncomfortably at the thought of having to lie about those things, or even worse, having to admit to the wrongdoings in her past, however Foxy carefully steered away from topics that were sensitive and never gave Natasha as much as a side-eye if the spy appeared to lack some minor detail that normal women her age all seemed to be aware of.

The curiosity had her ready to burst. Nat's natural defense mechanisms were quite confused, not sure what to make of the woman who almost too friendly to be true, but the kindness in her eyes and the sometimes shy, awestruck looks she gave Natasha when she thought the redhead wasn't looking made up for it in spades.

"What do you think?" The noise of the hair dryer finally ceased, Foxy's voice echoing in Natasha's luxuriously large bathroom.

The newly-blonde spy studied her reflection with a tilt to her head. The ombre was a nice touch - her own hair was naturally darker than the caramel and honey blonde she had chosen, so the almost-brown shading at her roots took much away from the contrast between her lighter hair and darker brows. It was just another disguise for the spy, but somehow, this one felt more like home than any of the previous faces she had worn.

"I like it, you were right about the ombre," Natasha voiced her thoughts, eyes sliding over to the smiling woman behind her, feeling the corners of her mouth begin to creep upwards in involuntary response.

"You looked good with red hair, don't misunderstand me," Foxy briefly raised her hands. "But you have a light complexion and lighter colors do wonders for bringing out the youthfulness. Even if we don't have much joy these days, a good hair color is an opportunity to showcase the bit," she briefly touched her own hair in an exaggerated attempt at driving her point home.

The fun part was done, the time came to execute the revenge. It wasn't exactly anything special; rather, the plan was quite simple - let Todd make a fool out of himself in front of his friends and perhaps (a slightly, teensy possibility) get himself arrested. The two women took their time to get dolled up, not too much - but rather, adding just that little bit to themselves to easily attract moderate amounts of attention from men.

The bar was busy, noisy and full of people when the two women stepped through the door. Natasha's eyes scanned the room out of habit, easily spotting the tall, lanky Todd in the far end of the bar, laughing and boozing with equally pathetic-looking man-children. The urge to gag was almost irresistible.

The spy let herself to be led to the bar by Foxy who looked mildly uncomfortable. Natasha was sure that if she was to touch the other woman's face, it would be flaming under the circumstances. "Try to relax a little, I won't bite," with a quip to her companion, Nat ordered them a vodka cranberry each, sitting down with her back to the men. "Tell me when he notices us and starts moving this way."

Foxy nodded minutely, clutching her drink for dear life and taking generous sips to calm herself down and relax like the spy had requested. They talked about everything and nothing in between, Natasha's hand on Foxy's knee crawling closer to her hip as minutes passed by without interruption. Loud noises of men playing darts and drunkenly cheering reached the womens earshot every now and then, causing Foxy to throw increasingly infuriated glances towards her ex-boyfriend and the Black Widow's current victim of choice.

Sitting opposite the perfectly composed, smiling woman, it was clear as day she was, indeed, best of the best. Despite knowing Foxy for only a few days, Natasha managed to pull off a very convincing girlfriend: her body language was nothing short of absolutely besotted and the googly eyes the spy was making had Foxy constantly remind herself that it was only for show. There was no way this gorgeous, incredible human would be interested in someone as plain and ordinary as herself.

"Heads up," Foxy's smile suddenly grew a mile wide as she stared directly at Natasha, eyes alight with fury at the scene about to unfold. Natasha's reply was to briefly tighten the grasp on the other's leg in silent support.

"Hey, baby," Todd was drunk enough for the stench of his breath to reach both women. "Oh, I see you're with a friend," his attempt at flirting only made Natasha scrunch up her face like a cat that accidentally smelled a lemon.

"Leave me alone," Foxy stated firmly, knowing the phrase wouldn't do anything to deter her overzealous ex, but this time - she counted on it.

"It's okay, I can share," the slurred words had a couple of people nearby raise their eyebrows at the audacity.

"I'm not interested," Foxy snapped. "In fact, there is absolutely nothing your freeloading, cheating ass can bring to my table."

The woman radiated satisfaction as gasps sounded out around them; Todd was a regular at this bar and most people there knew him in one way or another. The moment of joy, however, was brief.

"Listen, bitch, you have no business talking to me like that," full of drunken bravado, the man spat angrily, taking unsteady steps closer to Foxy. "What you need is a decent man that can handle your outbursts, not some dyke..." before he could even utter another offensive syllable, Natasha had his wildly gesturing arm twisted painfully behind his back, easily forcing the inebriated man to his knees.

"Wanna try that again, champ?" Sarcasm flowed freely from the spy's lips as the patrons in the bar gasped. The civilian clothing and the new hair color might have been an effective short-term disguise but once the crowd had seen her neat little party trick and had taken a good look at her face, nobody was doubting her identity. "Call the cops, will you?" She addressed the shocked bartender who immediately scrambled to obey.

"I didn't do anything!" Todd cried out, eyes drunkenly darting between the Black Widow's quiet rage and Foxy's grim stone face.

"Huh, that's weird. Because I clearly heard and saw an attempted hate crime," Natasha's voice attained a sardonic tint. "And I have a bar full of witnesses," the spy shrugged, letting go of his arm but keeping a boot firmly planted on his back to prevent him from escaping. "I hope you have a lawyer."

Foxy snorted, reaching for her unfinished second drink. "Tough luck."

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Todd's friends inching closer to the exit door second by second, as if they could stand a chance against a professionally trained secret agent. Luckily for them, Natasha wasn't interested in the remainder of Todd's gang of losers and merely raised an eyebrow when the other men reached the door, a tiny smirk appearing when his pleading eyes didn't cause any reaction in his friends, the spineless worms, hopping out of the door without as much as a goodbye to the man laying face-down on the dirty floor.

As soon as the police arrived, awestruck by one of the NYC's most famous superheroes just casually standing in a bar, they eagerly collected the inebriated offender, briskly escorting Todd to the squad car. The bartender and several other patrons confirmed Natasha's words that an attempted hate crime had taken place. Cops were in and out in less than fifteen minutes and the otherwise-pleasant hole-in-the-wall bar returned to its usual evening bustle.

"Celebratory shots?" Natasha laughed as Foxy exhaled, deep and slow, once her racing heart calmed down.

"My treat," the other woman motioned for the bartender and soon, a line of colorful glasses appeared in front of the women. Each downed a glass easily, slamming it back on the table. "Man, this is everything I never knew I needed," Foxy confessed with a shy smile. "Thanks, Nat. You're the best."

The spy responded with a satisfied smile, picking up another glass and holding it out for a toast. "To revenge well-deserved," the glass clicked, alcohol slid easily down their throats. "So, what now?"

Foxy's eyes shone in the bright lights of the bar, relieved and tipsy. The small empty glass twirled easily between her fingers. "Dunno," the shrug came and went. "Maybe go on vacation. To Florida."

Natasha let out a belly laugh, downing her last shot without as much as a stutter in her movements, Foxy's eyes lingering on the stray drops of alcohol running from the spy's plump lips. "A vacation with the crackheads? Romantic," the quip was received with an eyeroll from the other woman.

"Spoilsport," Foxy, too, finished her booze and placed the money and a hefty tip on the bar, tapping twice to get the bartender's attention. "I meant more like - lay on the beach, sip mimosas, look at sexy people in swimsuits..."

"Florida is for old people," Natasha objected, pulling her leather jacket back on and leading them both outside. The evening air was crisp, bringing a clearer head and re-arranging the thoughts back into a more sensible state.

Foxy easily picked up her pace to match Natasha's precise strides leading them in the direction of the former's building. The warm buzz of vodka coupled with the fresh air and her desire for retribution well-fed, Foxy settled into a comfortable silence next to the spy. They reached the building quickly, their pace brisk and distractions lacking.

"Care for a nightcap?" She didn't know what prompted her to blurt out the words; as soon as the words registered in her brain, they were already out and Foxy's face heated, fingers fumbling for the keys in her pocket, Natasha's touch still warm and lingering on the side of her leg.

The spy seemed amused, studying Foxy's nervous habits with a crooked smirk. "Sure," she agreed amicably, following the woman into the apartment building, not missing both the rigidity of her back and the added spring to her step.

A moderately sized, well-decorated apartment revealed itself behind the open door, scarcely illuminated by the NYC lights coming in from a glass wall in the living room, reflecting the vast living space furnished with a large couch.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Natasha turned around, stepping into the other woman's personal space with the grace of a predator. Two shining eyes stared back at her in the darkness, framed by fluttering lashes. Foxy's bottom lip disappeared behind her teeth, skin gleaming with perspiration.

The recently-turned blonde spy wasted no time caging the other woman between her body and the door, chests almost touching. The air around them was charged, Foxy's heart thudding loudly in her chest as she gulped. Natasha studied her expression, "You want this?" she whispered against her lips, sharing the oxygen between them.

"Ye-yeah," a short nod and a gasp later, the women were devouring each other, grasping at their hands and shoulders like they were drowning. Hot and wet and sharp from the booze, the kisses were as graceless as their fingers haste in removing each other's top layers of clothing.

The sharp corner of the living room archway dug painfully into Foxy's back, bringing an additional sense of awareness: this was real. This was happening. Natasha's blonde locks flowed through Foxy's fingers, soft and silky, a contrast to the teeth pulling on her lip in impatient hunger. Foxy grunted in response, parting from the other woman to send her t-shirt flying somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.

"Bedroom," mere minutes in and she already sounded utterly and throughly ruined.

"Couch," Natasha was equally feverish to get to the good parts. Her belt was unbuckled and the nice button-up she'd worn hung open, a plain white bra iriscendent on her alabaster skin.

Letting herself be led to the couch, Foxy could barely take her eyes off the woman in front of her, making sure she wasn't ogling Natasha outright yet secretly hoping to be caught anyway. The blonde was like a porcelain doll, unreal, firm and soft at the same time.

The moment Foxy gracelessly landed on the couch, Natasha was all up in her space, straddling the other woman with the grace of a savage cat; lips once more attached to her flesh, Natasha left a trail of hot, wet marks starting at the jawline and ending at the cups of Foxy's bra.

Not knowing what to do with her hands, Foxy grasped Natasha's hips, unable to hold back a moan heavy with lust as the spy ground down with her hips. It was exhilarating to see the other woman affected by their heavy make-out session; nothing short of absolutely smitten to see Natasha pull back, panting and disheveled, to shed her shirt and her bra.

Unable to resist the urge, Foxy's hands reached out to cup the spy's round breasts, tugging her closer to pop a rosy nipple into her mouth. Natasha shivered, arching into the caress, holding onto the other woman's hair and tugging it in the direction only she knew.

Natasha wasn't loud, she wasn't wild; her moans were more like muted gasps but her body spoke for her louder than any words: the grinding was getting more impatient, Natasha's hold grew stronger. As Foxy fumbled for the button of Nat's pants, she felt the soft, delicate lace underneath. Natasha had come prepared.

"Hold on," the spy mumbled, hopping off Foxy's lap to quickly push her pants and panties down her legs with practiced ease. The other woman followed suit, leaving herself to be bare besides her underwear, the attempt to remove them intercepted by Natasha. "Let me," quiet words tickled the skin of her throat where Nat had immediately attached her mouth.

Foxy scrambled to intake the oxygen she needed, letting herself feel the hot glide fully, having lost herself in pleasure, missing the exact moment Nat's fingertips breached the waistband of her panties. Soft and nimble, so different to a man's roughened skin, the sensation was as strange as it was sweet. The urge to arch and rock her hips against the nearest surface intensified and Foxy could only keen, quiet and high, causing Natasha to chuckle to herself.

"Enjoying yourself, sweet girl?" The miniscule trace of coyness seeped into the blonde's voice. The engorged, puffy, moist flesh of Foxy's lower lips parted eagerly to Natasha's experimental dip.

"Yeah, yes," the woman slid down, spreading her legs in invitation. "Please, touch me," begging to be filled in all the empty spaces, Foxy threw her head to rest against the back of the couch, watching Nat through unfocused eyes.

"Oh, I will," the spy purred, sliding lower to put her face next to Foxy's dripping cunt. The spy's fingers glistened with arousal and she popped them into her mouth, licking them clean before doing the same to her lover's swollen folds. The response was instantaneous and loud, Foxy shook under Natasha's expert teasing. "Stay still," she ordered quietly, patting Foxy's belly.

Molten, honeyed waves of bliss overtook common sense and awareness, tiny sparks shooting up Foxy's cunt every time Natasha suckled at her clit. The spy read her body like an open book, following the movements of her hips with her mouth, always a step ahead and slightly south. Foxy's peak was imminent, approaching rapidly, as Natasha's sweet merciless assault wrung every single drop of the thick, precious liquid out of her cunt.

It only seemed to gush more, the woman pushing her cunt into Natasha's face as the latter doubled down on her efforts to bring her to ecstasy.

The waves began deep in the pit of Foxy's stomach, making her legs tremble, her toes curl and the flutters of her cunt increase in speed and intensity. Silky soft and typhoon wet, her orgasm crashed her mind into million pieces and Nat dutifully extracted everything until the last drop with the skillful touch of her tongue and fingers.

"Tash," Foxy moaned. Her legs quivered at the slightest touch to her oversensitive cunt.

"Mhm," was the blonde's reply, contented humming getting closer and closer until the womens lips met once more in a fierce, passionate kiss.

Foxy's hands immediately sought purchase on Natasha's hips, searching for the spots that would make the spy's body song in the same way she'd done to Foxy; seemingly much more reserved, quiet but happy sighs broke past Nat's lips in response to gentle hands stroking where she was most sensitive.

"I've got a vibe in my bedroom," clarity finally broke through the orgasm haze, Foxy's brain slowly coming back to reality.

"No, I want your fingers," Natasha's reply was assertive as she moved her hips in tandem with Foxy's hand, dripping the sweetness of her around all over.

The urge to pop the fingers into her mouth was strong, so Foxy did just that, moaning at the tangy taste, Natasha's breath quietly stuttering at the sight in front of her.

"I want to eat you out," the words barely had left Foxy's mouth as Natasha flipped them so she was the one laying on the couch, spread-eagled and open for the other woman's eager mouth to explore. Wet, sloppy and so, so tender, Foxy let herself taste the arousal of her lover.

"Yeah," so soft, one could easily miss it, the approval didn't get lost in the headrush nonetheless. With grace, Foxy sought the spots that would force Natasha to break her silence with slow, broad motions until the blonde had no choice but to arch her hips into the sensations, chasing her pleasure, losing the aura of restraint she'd so carefully cultivated.

No time for self-control. The temperatures were climbing steadily with every single movement, both lost in their imperfect shared rhythm, the soft of Foxy's tongue and fingers like finest silks on Natasha's eager cunt. Two fingers slipped in without resistance, immediately seeking out the soft, spongy spot that made the blonde's toes curl and mouth open in a silent scream.

Foxy's free hand groped around for Natasha's ass hastily, bringing her hips closer to her mouth, tongue never ceasing its assault on the blonde's clit as her body grew more rigid, fingertips going white with the force she was gripping the comforter.

"Gospodi bozhe," came the mumble, the only warning before Natasha's powerful thighs locked Foxy in place as the blonde rode out her orgasm, violently shivering, dousing the other woman's face in her sweet release. Dutifully, Foxy stroked the silk of Natasha's skin everywhere she could reach, her hot breath on the blonde's pussy easing her back to Earth through the aftershocks.

Natasha's eyes opened, feeling her lover's look of adoration, and she cracked a reluctant but genuine smile. There was something about Foxy that was just so-

Natasha taglist (open, see fic hat for info; crossed out nicknames are the ones I couldn't tag, please update your info):

@mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @sapphicnoodle69

#bun writes #bun writes: drabbles #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #black widow x female reader #black widow smut #black widow x reader

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cloudycera · 3 years

Text

The Street Rat Empire

( I like this name better)

Beta Chapter 1.

Billy hated summer, Most kids loved it and it was easier not to freeze to death during this time but for billy it was one of the more dangerous times of the year. With kids no longer in school more of them would be taking up summer jobs which it harder for him to get one and it always seemed like CPS worked harder now.

The raven was zoning out in The Tower, contemplating his life outside of The Captain and what he was going to do for dinner or if he was going to eat tonight to help out the younger kids in his apartment, he could swipe something from the Cafeteria when no ones looking but to be honest someone was always looking.

"Cap.....Cap?!"

Captain Marvel almost jumped out of this chair as he turned to The Flash who was looking him with a questioning smile.

"Yeah? Sorry I was....thinking" he said awkwardly chuckling.

"Obviously you've been staring out the window for the past 30 minutes, Hal was ready to bet you were a decoy or something" Barry said leaning against railings next to him.

"So what's eating you?"

Captain wasn't exactly sure how he was going to tell his teammates he was going hungry to feed other people so he shrugged and placed his forehead on the glass.

"Nothing much just....worried about some kids in Fawcett" He chose the half truth, it helped to only tell half the truth most times, this way they could understand his worry.

"Kids?" Barry asked.

"Yeah as Shiny as Fawcett is it's homeless population still makes up thirty percent a lot of them are just kids, it sucks that even with all the strength In the world I can't help every last one them but still gotta do something" Billy's sad smile shook Flash a bit, he was used to the happy go lucky optimism Captain marvel carried around with him but even as he knew how creepily happy Fawcett city seemed to be he just accepted that it would have a hero like The Captain who always brightened up the mood.

"Is that why you always sneak out like 20 boxes of pizza on fridays?" He asked.

The raven blushed but didn't look at Barry out of fear that he would look like an idiot,

"You noticed that....great" he whispered but Flash still heard it.

"Everyone did Capn, everyone" Barry pat Billy on the back and smiled. "You're a good man Marvel, I'd say it would easier to just call Child protective services but if you could you already would"

"Those kids trust me Barry, I'd never do that to them I know how sucky that life can be Foster isn't exactly kind to most....ah" It was too late once he realized he'd actually given out personal information about himself, Billy turned away from The Flash and was so close to just flying out the window.

"You were a Foster child, Captain?" A new voice to the conversation, Dinah The Black Canary walked up to them with a blank face but slightly sympathetic look in her eyes.

"Can we forget I just said that?, oops look at the time gotta go see you guys later!!" In seconds the raven was gone, guess the speed of Hermes came in handy sometimes.

"What was that?" Dinah asked Barry looking at the door he ran out of.

"I don't know, he was zoning out so I asked what's wrong and he talked about the homeless kids in Fawcett, I think he's just a little conflicted.... you should talk to him tomorrow"

"I don't want to make him uncomfortable but I'll try" Canary said.

*********

In a rundown apartment in the forgotten neighbourhood, Billy laid on his makeshift excuse of a bed. It was an old mattress that he sometimes let the other kids stay on if they wanted to hideout somewhere, he had a sleeping bag as the bed cover to make it less gross to sleep on.

He knew he could always just live in the tower and no one would ask questions but he couldn't bring himself to do it, not when the League didn't know his identity and he felt responsible for the homeless kids here too.

Billy had long since given up on trusting adults, yeah he absolutely trusted the League with Captain Marvel's back but nat with Billy Batson. Billy batson was a scrawny 12 year old with nothing to his name, living in a dangerous neighbourhood and eating out of a trash can on most days and the League was full of kind good people but that kindness proved to be pain in the raven's ass the older he got.

There was a knock on his door and upon opening it was a little girl named Alli who lived with her mom the floor below him, Alli's mom was an addict who refused to hand her daughter over to social services and was on the run but Billy felt sorry for them so he let them stay in the building.

"Their back again, the Lions are making trouble outside again." The girl said, Billy looked annoyed but smiled either way and patted Alli's head thanking her for the information and sending her off to her mom.

"One day...just one day...can't I just relax and over think"

He said before getting to the roof and saying his words of power to ultimately talk the Gang into leaving and maybe throwing some of them into each other.

(I HAVEN'T WRITTEN IN A LONG TIME SO PLEASE TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS)

#shazam #billy batson #dc dcomics #dc heroes #fanfic #fanfiction #my wrtiting #The Street Rat Empire

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isolemnlyswearpevensie · 4 years

Text

Strawberry Jam Sandwich | Regulus Black x Reader

Warnings: Nothing :)

Time/Era: Marauders Era

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Y/N Potter and Regulus Black are a match made from heaven, even if other people didn’t expect it.

Request: hello first of all I really like your writing and hope you and your loved ones are doing well. could you write a regulus black fic? like reader is James’ sister and they get married (because regulus doesn’t die) and years later they meet Harry?

A/N: Thank you and thank you for the request! Let me know how you like it! Enjoy! I love Reg and I’m so excited to FINALLY write for him!! For anyone else wanting a fic; please request away!

masterlist | read on ao3

Y/N Potter and Regulus Black were a weird pairing in most people’s eyes. Both being the younger siblings of the two most popular guys in school, it made their peers raise their eyebrows. Not to mention, they were in rival houses and seemed to be on opposite sides of the war. But they just worked.

Y/N was a lot like her older brother, James; very loud and loveable. She was naturally talented on the quidditch field and loved to make friends. It was obvious that she had relationships with people of all the houses due to her outgoing attitude and warm sense of humor. While Regulus also played quidditch, he was much more introverted and shy. He didn’t have many friends, due to being categorized by his surname automatically, so he often kept to himself and spoke only when necessary. Y/N was the talker, Regulus was the listener.

Funnily enough, Y/N and Regulus met through the means of getting Sirius to make amends with Regulus again. Regulus had cornered Y/N in the library and begged her to help him come up with a plan to talk to his brother. They ended up meeting multiple times in the following weeks and grew to be friends.

Regulus adored her ability to be interested in small things; she once asked him what a necklace he wore meant. It didn’t mean anything in particular, but she sat and listened to him speak about his jewelry for almost 15 minutes. No one ever took the time to listen to what the younger Black sibling had to say.

To their ‘plan sessions” in the library, Y/N always brought a strawberry jam sandwich to munch on. They met after her quidditch practices, so James and Sirius wouldn’t find them, which meant she needed a snack to keep her energy levels up. She always offered him half, which the rather regal boy would decline nearly every time. Nearly. Regulus found her little snack absolutely adorable, especially when the jam got all over her face. It made her lips even pinker, and that much more kissable.

The sandwich became an inside joke between the two quickly. Even when passing in the halls, they would scoff and find the most outlandish way to mention the food. It wasn’t funny in hindsight, but it was something that connected the two in its ridiculousness.

Regulus paced back and forth among the bookshelves of the Hogwarts library, hoping to bump into his now best friend, Y/N. The library was near empty, as it was Friday night and very close to curfew, so even just looking for her held very little hope. She had mentioned something about having to finish an assignment she was procrastinating, so Regulus hoped she followed his advice to just get it over with.

The bookshelves were high and blocked most of the ceiling in the room, making the books impossible to read. Long, vertical shadows cast their darkness over almost every inch of the floor and offered very little light to allow him to navigate the maze of shelves. During the day, of course, this was a different considering the wall of windows that looked over the courtyards. The window seats were some of his favorite places to come and think. And the seats just happened to be his and Y/N’s meeting spot.

Regulus was about to give up on his search, but he noticed Y/N hunched over an astronomy book, sitting on the floor with her back leaning against a bookshelf. He casually slipped next to her, offering a shy hello.

“Hey, Black. What are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing, Potter. Not exactly the best studying environment.” Regulus tilted his head back until it hit the books and turned his head to see her.

“Well, I’m trying to save myself from having to do this entire project tomorrow. I have a book, yet you appear literature-less. What’s your excuse?” Y/N moved so she sat with her legs crossed, the thick book laid open on her lap.

“I came to return this, you left it at our last meeting.” He placed a slightly toasted strawberry jam sandwich on the book. It was wrapped lazily in a green napkin and left an abundance of crumbs on her homework. Upon further inspection, the words will you be my girlfriend? were scribbled messily on the paper in black ink. Y/N’s jaw grew slack as she looked over at the highly attractive man next to her.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I just wanted to ask.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Dead, Y/N.”

A smile crept over her features and she held out half of the sandwich. “Suppose we can start our relationship with a snack?”

Regulus accepted the food, making a subtle crunching noise as he bit into it. “I suppose I can make the exception to eat your exceptionally plain choice in snack food, just this once.”

“I’m sorry, you’re dating who?” James laughs, shrugging his younger sister off before grabbing his broom.

By this point, Y/N and Regulus have been sneakily dating for more than half a year and Y/N was tired of hiding their relationship. After Regulus and Sirius had failed to rekindle their relationship, Sirius shoved his brother even further away than they started. It hurt the younger black to the point of giving up, but even he was tired of hiding their relationship. He loved Y/N with his entire being, and his jerky older brother couldn’t ruin that.

“Have you ever even talked to Regulus before?” Sirius adds, grabbing his own broom to prep for quidditch practice.

“Yes, and I am dating him. Not sure what’s so hard to understand about that.”

“We understand it, just don’t believe it. Now, don’t speak about things you don’t understand.” James kicked off the ground and flew in the direction of the quidditch pitch.

“Don’t understand? Excuse me?!”

“He’s right. I know you were just trying to prank us, but joking about something that personal isn’t funny, Y/N.’’ Sirius mounts his own broom and flies off after James.

After practice, Y/N hurried to the library to meet her slightly anxious boyfriend. Regulus knew you were telling Sirius and James, and he knew they would react badly. Y/N saw Regulus sitting on the windowsill furthest from the door and hurriedly walked over.

“Hey! How’d it go?” He asked after Y/N pecked his lips and sat next to him. Regulus wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

“Not much to tell, really. They said I was trying to prank them and to not talk about things I didn’t understand. Honestly, I kind of wish they yelled.”

Regulus laughed and kissed her temple. “They’ll come around, I’m not exactly their favorite person so I can see why they don’t believe it. And I’m happy they didn’t yell because I know how you feel when people yell and I don’t want you to feel like that.”

“Holy shit! Get away from my sister!” James’ voice filled the area, Sirius quick on his heels. They must have been following Y/N after practice.

“Riddle me this, you want to spy for the order and potentially get KILLED?!” Y/N paced around the living room of Regulus and her shared flat.

It didn’t take long for Sirius to reaccept Regulus back into his life after seeing how he treated Y/N. At first, both older brothers thought Regulus was using Y/N to feed secrets and information to the opposing side of the war. They didn’t accept the couple and wanted Y/N to have nothing to do with the boy. But, after many feelings were hurt and various words were shared, they decided to give the boy a chance.

Regulus treated Y/N like a queen and made sure his girl knew how much he loved her. He wasn’t very good with words, but his actions spoke volumes. Flower bouquets were gifted periodically, as were small gifts that had a lot of thought put into them. During one of their study dates, he spent over an hour drawing a beautiful portrait of her. Not too long after, he gave her an entire sketchbook of drawings he knew she would love. Whether that was pictures of her friends, family, her favorite flowers, or something as mundane as the bench she loved to sit on, the gift had taken hours and hours of his time. It was obvious that Regulus was in love with his girl.

After graduating from Hogwarts, both Regulus and Y/N joined the Order of the Pheonix. Regulus still had heavy ties with Voldemort and his family, so Dumbledore asked him if he would consider being a spy for the Order. Even Sirius thought it was a bad idea. But, he had to prove that he wasn’t who he was raised to be. He had to prove himself to not only everyone around him, but to his inner soul.

“Listen, Dumbledore thinks that there’s a spy that infiltrated the Order and if I can find out who, maybe I can stop it. Think about it, James has a kid, a kid who is very valuable to you-know-who. We haven’t even spent a ton of time with him yet, but I know I can save him if I find the spy.”

“Yes, I realize that, Reg. But I can’t lose you in the process. We’re supposed to get married and have kids of our own and have a happy life-” Y/N takes a deep breath. “I can’t live without you.”

Regulus smiles a comforting smile, taking his girlfriend’s hands in his. “I know, darling. I’m not going anywhere. How about this,” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small ring box, presenting it to Y/N. “Let’s get married. I’ve never been a fan of the big white wedding...and all you need is a few witnesses and two signatures. I’m sure Sirius and James would be more than willing to witness. What do you say?”

Y/N gapes at her boyfriend. “Are you asking me to marry you?!” Regulus laughs and pecks her lips.

“I love you so much, Y/N Potter. You are the light of my life and I am so lucky to have you. You have brought me so much joy and really made me the best person I could be,” He wipes a tear delicately from Y/N’s skin. “I asked James for his blessing, too, after the last Order meeting. He said he was ecstatic for us. So, Y/N, will you marry me? We can eat strawberry jam sandwiches together for the rest of our lives.”

“Yes! A thousand times yes!”

“Hi, little one, I’m your uncle, Regulus, remember?- Ow! Not the hair!” Regulus sat in a suit in the parlor of Potter cottage with one-year-old harry in his lap. Y/N watched from the doorway, decked out in her white cocktail dress and heels. She couldn’t help but gush at the sight of her soon to be husband with a child; it felt so natural. Her heart swelled just thinking about watching him play with their own children.

“Yeah, he does that, keep him at a distance,” James responded, coming into the room. He was running late, as always, and was trying to tie his tie. “I can’t believe I’m witnessing my baby sister getting married!”

Harry gargled and reached his hands towards his father. “Dadadadada!!!!”

“I know, buddy, I’m right here. Hang out with your Uncle Reg for a while, yeah?” James responds, messing with his hair in the mirror. No matter how much he ‘fixed it,’ it all looked the same.

“It’s crazy how he looks so much like you, it’s like you copied your baby photos and made them come to life!” Y/N stated. Harry was almost an exact copy of James, but with Lily’s eyes.

Sirius came into the room, perfectly dressed with his hair tied back. “Well, are we leaving or not?” He asked, fixing the bowtie around his neck in the mirror for the 8th time.

“Pa’foo!” Harry squeals and squirms in Regulus’ arms. His grip tightens around the baby before pressing a kiss into his dark curls.

“No, not Pa’foo! Reg!” Sirius turned towards Y/N and whistled. “Damn, Reggie, not sure how you picked up this one! Look at the legs on her! Phew, lucky I don’t snatch you up myself!”

“Stop it! Can we please go?” Y/N swatted Sirius’s chest with her bag, embarrassed.

James plucked Harry from Regulus’ lap and hands him to Lily. “Yes, yes. Sorry, let’s go!” James kisses Lily’s cheek and disapperates out of his house.

Y/N walks over to Regulus and offers him a hand. “Ready to go get married?”

“I’ve never been more ready, my love. “

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years

Text

VALERIE - Part III. (Harry Styles)

hello dears! i wanted to have a few words before this part. i would like to kindly ask you to give the chapter a like and/or a reblog if you enjoyed it, or reply on the post or even just send me a feedback through asks! these are the only forms of feedback writers have on here and it’s really hard to maintain your motivation to keep posting when you see your work being ignored. getting up the numbers and spreading our work is your way to let us know that you read it and like it, so please be so kind to use these tools! writers post their work for absolutely free for you to enjoy, pls take the time to get back to them! it means so so soooo much to them, im telling you! even just one comment can make the day of the creator!

word count: 3.9k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

A few tequila shots and the sound of some stranger’s horrible attempt at karaoke is exactly what you need when you get off work that Friday evening. Luckily, Steven invited you along with a few of his friends to have a drink just a few days ago and you gladly said yes. You and Steven have always gotten along so well and it made Rosa happy to see two so important people in her life be friends, so it wasn’t weird that Rosa was staying home with Valerie, you knew quite a few of Steven’s friends and they all seemed like cool people.

He told you beforehand that Harry would tag along as well so you could brace yourself to try this whole “let’s be nice to each other for the sake of Val” thing you and Rosa talked about earlier. She said she has mentioned it to him as well and he seemed to be open to the idea. You could only hope he didn’t just try to get her off his business and truly means to change.

Arriving to the bar you easily spot your little group of people and sliding out of the booth Steven greets you with a hug.

“So glad you are here!” he smiles at you and everyone slides further into the booth so you can sit at the end, saying your hello to everyone around the table.

The waitress comes up just a few minutes later and you order a tequila along with a beer.

“You are letting loose tonight?” Andy, a colleague of Steve asks with a smirk upon hearing your order.

“I deserve it and it’s just the start!” you tell him making everyone laugh.

Your shot glass is emptied out and you’ve stared on your beer by the time Harry arrives to the bar.

“Hello everyone,” he waves around and asks for a free chair from another table and pulling it to the end he is basically sitting next to you. “I see you’ve started the party, Y/N,” he chuckles eyeing the shot glass and you just shrug your shoulder with a smug grin.

He is wearing a black shirt that’s unbuttoned at the top, letting you get a glimpse of his tattooed chest and necklaces. You don’t admit it to yourself but your eyes linger on his chest a tad bit longer than you intended.

Harry orders a beer for himself that arrives in just a few minutes and you notice how the waitress was basically was pushing her chest out while talking to him.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” she asks him with a charm smile, her red lips stretched almost up to her ears.

For your biggest surprise Harry looks at you upon her question.

“Do you want to have a shot with me as well?”

The girl looks at you with a dirty look that screams jealous and for a moment you don’t even know what to answer.

“Um, yeah, sure,” you nod.

“Then two tequilas, please,” he tells the waitress before she walks away, glancing back at him one last time, but he pays no attention to her, clearly. “Hope you take it better than champagne,” he teases you, but this time it feels more like a simple joke rather than an attempt to piss you off.

“We’ll see,” you tell him with an innocent smile. The change in him is obvious, it seems like he did take Rosa’s advice and a new chapter is about to start where the two of you are not planning the murder of each other anymore every time you meet.

You take the shot with Harry easily, the alcohol burning down your throat and as any responsible, mature adult would do it, you wash it down with some beer. The perfect recipe for a killer headache in the morning. Your little group is having quite the fun, would have been a shame to miss this evening with them.

It seems like Harry is making a real attempt at being nice to you, he is your partner every time your glass empties out and you head to the bar to get another one.

“Look,” he tells you pulling his phone out of his back pocket and a picture of Val appears where she is wearing a onesie that has pumpkins all over it, it’s got to be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Oh my God!” you gasp tapping your hand to your chest. “She is literally the cutest.”

“I know, I got her the onesie, it’s so soft,” he tells you happily before taking one last look at the photo and putting his phone back away.

“Hey, what happened to those matching stuff you called me back then?” you think back to the phone call the two of you had not so long ago.

“Oh, didn’t buy it.”

“Why?”

“They didn’t have your size.”

“You didn’t buy the set because of my size? You could have gotten me just a larger one or something.”

“Yeah, but I wanted it to fit perfectly. Doesn’t matter, I’ll find another one.”

Harry turns to Andy who is telling a crazy story of the last time he went hiking and your tipsy eyes linger on him for a little. You were definitely not expecting him to not buy the set just because they didn’t have your size, but it’s nice that he was thinking of you and wanted you to have it just as perfect as him.

Harry catches your eyes and you don’t turn away. Maybe it’s the alcohol or the magic of this new, nice era of Harry Styles, but you let your gazes lace together as he smirks at you.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” you tell him absentmindedly and turn to Andy to hear the ending of the story.

The evening is a blast and you are having an amazing time. It’s nice that you don’t have to worry about Harry saying something awkward about you, the two of you are getting along pretty well.

You even sing a song together at the karaoke machine, though you don’t see yourself, you know the two of you look ridiculous, singing Avril Lavigne’s What the Hell from the top of your lungs, both of you probably more drunk than it would be decent from mature adults. But you couldn’t care less.

It’s way past midnight when you decide to leave and Harry tags along with you saying that he is taking the same train.

“Shut up, I did not!” he narrows his eyes at you as the two of you sit in the deserted carriage, only two more passengers are there but they don’t even care about your existence.

“I’m telling you! You were shaking your ass when you sang that line! Almost twerking!” you laugh letting out a snort as Harry is trying his best to hold his smile back while defending himself. “I wish I had it on camera!”

“But you didn’t so it didn’t happen,” he tells you pointing his finger at you in a warningly manner, but you just start laughing even more.

“You wish, Styles,” you huff and he just bumps his shoulder against yours.

You pull out your phone to check the time and see that Marcus has texted you a couple of hours before, asking if you are free next weekend. Harry tries his best not to peek at your screen, but he just can’t stop himself. Seeing the name he can’t stop himself from letting an annoyed growl out.

“You’re still in touch with the guy from the blind date?” he nosily asks and you lock the phone, thinking it’s best if you reply in the morning when you’ll be able to type your words out correctly. Sliding it back into your bag you turn to face Harry.

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I just genuinely don’t know why you are even trying.”

“Excuse me?” you ask with a grimace. “Why wouldn’t I try to meet guys?”

“I didn’t mean it like that. You told me all about how you need to feel that special connection with someone to date them. I bet my life that you did not feel that with this dude.”

“What do you know about what I feel?” you snap at him, feeling your anger building up quickly.

“Because… I know you,” is all he says but you can only laugh at his words.

“You know shit about me, Harry.”

“That’s not true,” he shakes his head protesting.

“Stop pretending like you know me just because I told you stuff when I was drunk and then slept with you. Why can’t you fucking forget about it all?”

Maybe you shouldn’t have been naïve and think that he could change in such a short time. It seems like he is still the annoying prick he has always been.

“Because it happened, Y/N! Whether you acknowledge it or not, it happened, and if I’m being honest, you talked a whole fucking lot that evening so excuse me if I think that I know you.”

He is clearly getting irked too, at least that’s what makes the two of you. The urge to hit him is slowly returning into your limbs and you have to keep your fists in your lap.

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m not perfect when I’m drunk and it was an inconvenience to you to have to deal with me!”

Looking up you see that the train is nearing your stop so you slide out of your seat as you look down at Harry.

“Why the fuck did you even bother to pick me up then? I’m sure you could have gotten with any of the bridesmaids. Was a shame you chose to ruin my life with that night,” you spat at him as the train stops and the doors slide open. It’s clear Harry has a lot to say, but you just simply flip him off and get out of the carriage, heading to the exit with long strides, fuming and raging you even thought for just a moment Harry has changed.

***

Just like the majority of the population, you consider Monday to be one of your biggest enemies, especially when you have spent the whole weekend trying to sleep your hangover off. You really shouldn’t have went overboard with the shots, but it’s always easier said than done. You don’t try to make yourself believe it won’t happen again, because it will surely do. Lately it has occurred to you that you might have a slight problem with knowing your limits when it comes to alcohol. It’s not that you are an addict and seek every possibility to chug down something in secret. It’s more about knowing when to stop when you are at it. It’s so hard to judge when you should draw the line and not have another one when you are having such a good time! You’ve heard endless sermons from your mother when you were younger and ended up coming home a little more hammered than what fitted her taste. She wasn’t completely against drinking, she believes it’s a nice way to ease your nerves and has been having drinks in the evenings herself, but she has a strong opinion about going overboard, something you’ve been struggling with.

“Guys find it disgusting, Y/N. Know your limits or no guy will stay with you if you can’t stop yourself from knocking yourself out.”

You rolled your eyes at her then and you roll your eyes at her now. As if a man has a word in what you do!

Sitting at your desk you find yourself checking the time every ten minutes, longing for your lunch break already, but time seems to be passing extremely slowly on this miserable day. You basically jolt up from your chair when the clock strikes 12 and head out of the building to find a place to eat. You were certainly not in the mood to do any mealprep for the week ahead so now you are stuck with having to eat out.

There’s a sandwich bar down the street and you refuse to go any farther just to have to walk back after lunch. Walking in you are happy to see that it’s not jam-packed yet, but knowing well how it goes in lunch time, the seats will surely be taken in no time. Walking up to the counter you order a turkey sandwich with a lemonade and take a seat at one of the smaller tables in the back, putting your bag to the empty chair and leaving your phone on the table next to your plate you start scrolling while eating.

Just as you expected, people start to flow in pretty soon and all the empty seats get taken. You’ve just scrolled past some funny cat video when you glance up and almost choke on your food.

At the counter, back facing you, but you already know his figure enough, stands Harry Styles, hands stuffed into his pockets as he is checking out the sandwiches behind the glass.

“Unbelievable,” you growl to yourself as you try to turn so you are hidden somehow behind the plant that’s besides you. Peeking from behind its leaves you try to keep an eye on him without being suspicious.

Harry pays for his food and flashes a smile at the cashier before turning around to find a place. Unfortunately, there are no free tables left, only seats here and there, one at your table as well.

At first you plan on pretending you don’t see him and pay he won’t recognize you either. After your encounter on the train last Friday you are not quite in the mood to have lunch with him. But then you see the disappointed look on his face as he searches for a free spot and your conscience can’t take it any longer.

Turning to face him you bring yourself out from behind the plant and wave in his direction. His eyes catch your hand in the air and a surprised look flashes across his face but heads in your way anyway.

“Hey, I didn’t even see you there,” he chuckles taking the seat that you just emptied from your bag, putting it to the floor next to you.

“Yeah, probably the plant,” you say awkwardly and he just nods placing his plate to the table.

“Do you come here often?” he asks upon starting his ham and cheese sandwich.

“No, though my office is near. I usually bring food.”

“Ah, I see.”

“Do you?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “I was just nearby and thought I would stop by for lunch.”

There’s a long pause when neither of you say a word, just eat in silence though that conversation from Friday hangs in the air heavily.

Surprisingly Harry is the first one to break this silence.

“I… wanted to call this weekend to apologize.”

“Really?” It’s not that you didn’t want an apology, you were just definitely not expecting one from him.

“Yeah. I know I have overstepped quite some boundaries lately and… I’m sorry for that. I promised Rosa I would try to work on our…”

“Friendship?” you ask with a small smile. There’s not really a word for what the two of you really have.

“Yeah,” he chuckles nodding. “Look, I was drunk too, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Sorry for sticking my nose into your business. You’re right, I don’t know you well enough to have an opinion on these stuff.”

You nod shortly, a sense of relief taking over your body. It’s nice to finally have your truth confirmed by him and it’s kind of ridiculous it took the two of you so long to actually have a nice, mature conversation.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“And I know I’ve been the one to tease you and pick on you most of the time, but I promise I’ll try to work on shutting my mouth from now on.”

You laugh leaning back in your seat, because this is surely way more than what you were expecting from him, but it’s still funny to hear it from his mouth. Never thought this day would ever come.

“I promise I’ll hold my tongue too. I want Rosa to stop worrying about us. She clearly cares about us so I wouldn’t want to be the reason why she stresses, she has enough on her plate.”

Harry nods in agreement and with that, the topic is considered closed. You have officially called it truth with the villain of your life, Harry Styles.

***

Valerie is watching the ducks in awe, as if they were the most beautiful creatures for her on this whole wide world. Her eyes follow them glide across the shimmering surface of the pond and pulling out your phone you take a quick photo of her before turning back to Rose next to you on the bench.

It’s a warm Sunday afternoon nearing the end of October, Rosa called you in the morning if you wanted to tag along for their afternoon walk and you happily took the chance to spend some more time with your sister and your favorite little niece.

“It’s so nice to get out of the house and go farther than just the supermarket,” she sighs, closing her eyes as she enjoys the warm sunshine caressing her face. You can tell she’s been losing sleep, Val just started teething and Rosa told you how fussy she’s been during the nights.

“The joys of parenthood,” you chuckle and she just huffs.

“Harry was over the other afternoon, dropped something off for Steven.”

“Uhuh.”

“He mentioned you.”

“Really?” you ask looking ahead of you, eyes glued to one particular duck as it nears the edge of the pond, then duckling out to the grass it sits comfortably in the sunshine.

“Yeah, he said you two had lunch together the other week.”

“Well, it’s not like it was planned, we just happened to be at the same place,” you correct her.

“Either way I’m happy you two are getting along.”

“It’s relaxing,” you admit with a soft chuckle. This worrying feeling you’ve been constantly feeling when someone brought Harry’s name up is finally gone from your chest. It’s nice to know you won’t have to avoid him at every event you run into him.

“So what do you have planned for the anniversary?” you ask her. It’s crazy it’s been three years since Rosa and Steven got married, which also means that it took exactly three years for you and Harry to put the past behind you.

“Uh, nothing?” she huffs with a grimace. “There’s not much you can do with a teething baby, you know? Will probably just have dinner together and if we don’t fall asleep immediately we can watch a movie.”

“Val is the only reason why you are staying home?”

“I mean, mostly, yeah.”

“I can look after her for a night, if you want,” you offer right away. It’s the least you can do for her.

“Nah, I can’t ask you that. I know how much you work and she wakes up at least two times during the night even on her best days. You need to rest too.”

“I have way more time to rest than you. You deserve a night off from your motherly duties.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, looking for any sign on your face that tells her you are not being serious.

“Absolutely. Just… give me a list of things I need to know and do and we’ll be fine,” you nod eagerly as you turn to look at Val. “Right, Princess? We’ll have a sleepover!”

Val just glances at you curiously, furrowing her tiny eyebrows before her attention is diverted by a falling leaf.

“She’s excited,” you tell Rosa and she just chuckles.

“Would you really do this for us?”

“Of course! It’s just one night, I can do one night.”

“You are literally an angel she sighs and hooking an arm around your shoulders she pulls you to her lovingly. This is what sisters are for.

***

Your body is basically buried under your favorite thick blanket, sunk into the plush couch as you watch a rerun from How I Met Your Mother, a warm tea on the coffee table. You’ve had a long day and you intended to go to bed early, but figured six is a little too early, so you got stuck with whatever the TV had to offer you, however you know you’ll be in bed by eight for sure.

Munching on some dried apple chips you let out a tired sigh when you see that you’ve reached the end of the bag. Tossing it to the floor you slide down lower on the couch when your phone buzzes somewhere under your butt. It takes you some time to actually find it and get a hold of it, but you’re rather surprised when you see you just got a text from Harry.

To be exact, he just sent you a photo. Opening the thread you wait for the attachment to load and when it does, you snort out loud.

It’s a photo of him with a ridiculously small, pink hat that’s probably for Valerie, but seeing it on his head as he is grinning widely into the camera you can’t help but laugh.

“Looking great, new fit?” you write him back and the little bubbles start moving almost immediately.

“Thought it was time for a change in my image. You like it?”

“Pink suits you well.”

“Thanks, I’ve been told that.”

You smile at the screen as another message pops up.

“I’ve been going a little overboard with the shopping for Val…”

“Never feel ashamed for that!”

“But Rosa made me promise the Gucci onesie was the last thing I bought for her.”

“You bought her a Gucci onesie??!?!! Harry, she is not even one, she will shit into that Gucci..”

“But it looked so cute! I had to buy it!”

“You need therapy, Harry.”

“Isn’t that what friends are for?”

You have a witty comeback to make about how he has zero friends, but you don’t want to ruin the light mood with even the slightest possibility of sending him an insult he might take too seriously.

“You’re right!”

“Okay, now it’s your turn to send me a silly photo.”

“What?!”

“Come on, I sent you one, now you have to send one to me too!”

“Says who?”

“Me. Come on, do it!”

He is so childish, you think to yourself as you open your gallery and try to find something that’s silly but not too embarrassing either. You find a picture back from April when you were having a grimace contest with your cousin’s kids and someone snapped a picture of you with puffy cheeks and crossed eyes. You hesitate for a moment but then send it to him anyway.

Waiting for his answer you turn your attention back to the TV until your phone buzzes in your hands again.

“I said send me a pic of you, not a hamster!”

You gasp at the mean but also funny reply. He surely didn’t shy out from insulting you, unlike you did.

“Oh, fuck you, Harry!”

You almost instantly regret sending that to him, because you know what his answer is to that every time it leaves your mouth. So you are already bracing yourself to receive that “you already have” text… But it never arrives.

“Jk, you look cute. But don’t cross your eyes too much, would be a shame if they stayed like that.”

“And why is that?” you find yourself typing back.

“Don’t let those pretty eyes go to waste.”

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@f-vasquezp @perspnhel @http-cherries @h-arrystyles @just-damn-bored @millennial-teenybopper @sarcasticallywitty15 @gwen-and-harry @perfectywrong @do-youseeme

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles series #harry syles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles enemies to lovers #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles valerie #harry styles valerie series #valerie series

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junhuiste · 3 years

Text

break the code (ex-wip)

pairing: soonyoung x fem!reader

wc: 1900

tags/warning: basketball!soonyoung, college au, slightly suggestive language, cursing

a/n: this was something i started way back in 2017 when i was 15 lol and i tried going back to it and finishing but i just can’t seem to continue it!! but i don’t want it to just sit in my drafts so i’m just going to post the unfinished wip! i might do this with a lot of wips i’ve had collecting dust over the years (and they’re like 99% svt lol); if i ever do find some stroke of inspo to finish it i might but for now enjoy the 1900 words i wrote when i was a sophomore

“But babe, you’ll sit on my side, right?” Soonyoung continued to pester you with countless little questions to which he knew the exact answers to.

You pursed your lips at your boyfriend; mild sorrow and guilt clouded your eyes. In return he pout your favorite pair of plush pillows to kiss, with dull bleakness and dismals fogging his irises. It was hard, really, to resist the pull of a magnet, who was trying every trick in the book to coerce you to sit on his school’s side of the bleachers for the upcoming basketball game on Friday.

Had it been that both of you were just your run-of-the-mill university couple, tachycardia would’ve caused you to blurt out “yes” instantaneously just by being gazed upon by Soonyoung, but alas, the big guy upstairs made it to be so that you technically couldn’t through the rulebook of the sibling code.

A flushed palm extended to your denim-covered thighs, with the utmost desire lacing his fingers.

“Pretty please? With a cherry on top?” His digits creeped towards your inner thigh, getting closer to the actual cherry he wanted on top.

“Soonyoung, no matter how well you do me, I’m still obligated to sit on my side of the bleachers.”

None of Soonyoung’s coercions could persuade you to decide about where to sit. You really would’ve preferred to sit on his side, but with your current situation, none of that was possible. It was a precarious oscillation between blood and water, and neither did you want to drown in with regret for embracing one over another.

“Fine. If you can’t cheer me on–which is a pitiful shame–let me take you out to eat after the game. And we can make out in my car or something so he won’t have to know.” Soonyoung’s gaze no longer held flashes of fervor, but rather a decadent gleam of sheer admiration.

“It’s a done deal, but you better promise me to dunk on him, or be prepared to get dunked on by him. As of right now, however, you owe me some kisses for making me wobble continuously back and forth between your side and his before I go,” you taunted, “come here you little rascal.”

Soonyoung gleamed at you piercingly, yielding you to lean forward against him as a shock of joy sparked up your back. His hand feathered along the back of your thigh, brushing it so longingly, with a tinge of impertinence here and there. You could feel the urgency radiating from him as he struggled to press you even closer to him, as there were no more gaps to be filled. He grasped your chin gingerly, before connecting his lips with yours, wanting to revel in dire coalescence he’d been awaiting upon your arrival.

Soonyoung is the warm bath you dip yourself into after constant exhaustion, the meager yet compelling and needed breeze as the sun beats down you, the red mark that’s actually relieving and boasts “A+” on a hard worked assignment, the last basket shot as the clock dashes away with the snickering seconds, and he is what has you torn on where your loyalty stands, but you can’t thank him enough for that strife.

You pulled away first because getting you two to separate would be a long ass haul, and maybe it was also getting late, just maybe. Your eyes glimpsed at the badgering hands that indicated 11:35 PM, and nothing but a sullen sigh managed to escape your lips.

It wasn’t fair, how time sashayed away, but there were no seconds left to spare to sulk about it, so you caressed the tranquility Soonyoung’s face possessed and left a lingering peck upon it. Knowing him, you’d expected him to grip your waist and pull you down with him into the waters of his joyous yet yearning ways but the coal haired boy enveloped you in an enticing embrace and with his lips hovering slightly above your ear, whispered, “Tell him to get ready.”

“I swear to God, I hate basketball,” your brother exhaled out in utter annoyance, to which you furrowed your brows at.

You always shifted in your seat restlessly, your heart palpitating at an ungodly speed of McQueen, eyes sought frantically to avoid meeting your brother’s, upon the dreaded word of “basketball” ringing in your ears. It wasn’t that you abhorred it, no, not at all; you absolutely appreciated the art of dunking and the pleasing note of swish through the hoop, but just not the people you knew personally who partook in it.

There’s always a Montague and Capulet narrative happening somewhere in the universe, always, and it just so happened that you were struck with the curse by some godforsaken entity of destiny of landing a role in your life as the fresh faced, ever so naive, youngest member of the Capulets–Juliet. And you dreaded the direction your supposed fairytale was headed the first time your boyfriend asked you to watch his basketball game, which oddly enough, was the same one your brother requested you to “bring all your hot friends” to.

As strange as it sounded, it wasn’t your brother’s undeniable libido for your friends that irked you and made you hesitate going to a basketball game, to which you’ve never thought twice about before, but it was the statement of, “God I am going to crush number 10’s ass.”

Number 10. Number fucking 10. Of course, it had to be the player that sweat through blue polyester and nylon, donning number 10 in white on the front and back. It could have been player number 13 or 17, for God’s sake it could have even been a negative number sported on the jersey, yet it all had to align in the cosmos to be player number 10.

You didn’t certainly deem ESP to be something legitimate, but on that day you swore to god your mind fucked you royally in the ass and placed you in Soonyoung’s dorm room the night before. It was nothing out of the ordinary, really, nothing but the sight of a teenage boy’s niche, because a lot of basketball players had to have chosen the number 10 for their jersey, right?

The environment malfunctioned instantaneously with the repetition of “I am going to crush number 10’s ass” circling about a short circuit in your mind. From that moment onward, the sight of the jersey was unquestionably more radiant that it could have ever been, with the blinding, white number ten atop Soonyoung’s chair cackling obstreperously at your oh shit moment. Tuning in to your brother slander your university’s rival, Soonyoung’s school, was always such a joy (not) to participate in.

Every “basketball” here and there snagged you by the ear and dragged you to hell and back with it, provoking the cracks of your palm to drench in sweat and legs to quiver more than you had felt around Soonyoung before dating him.

“Yeah I mean it’s not like you’ve worked your entire ass off the past 4 years or so to even set foot on the college court you've been dreaming of since you were 13!” Diverting your brother’s mental debate on his love of the sport, it was a necessity to pluck something else from thin air to talk about, and not your school’s rival when they had games against each other, which was seemingly a bloodbath in their perspective.

Trying to escape your brother’s trash talk of Soonyoung’s team was walking through an eternal, pitch black, underground tunnel, no goddamn escape.

“They only got us last time because of number 10’s foolery. Jesus Christ, the kid better slow down or he’s wasting stamina. Can’t believe he holds the title of captain, like me. I motherfucking swear to God if I have to listen to his loud ass winning chant–” yadah yadah, number 10 this, number 10 that.

You would have dozed off to your brother’s lovely lullaby of scorn towards your boyfriend had it not been for a text…from your boyfriend.

[spoonyoung]

hii hiiiii heyyyy hello bby Hhhii babe i miss youuuuu hi!

[y/n]

i can tell u’re tired :( don’t be

[spoonyoung]

he's going to crush me dang flabbit

y/n

so ur nervous ??? bby it’s just a game istg,,both of you treat it like warfare

[incoming call: spoonyoung]

Shit, what the hell? This bitch, right now? In this economy, at this time?

Inside your chest was a drumline pounding, giving it their all, threatening to burst out and announce to your brother that “Hey, your rival is dating your sister! They’re probably going to fuck later but you don’t know about any of it!”

You would plummet into poignancy if you didn’t pick up his call, because there was no chance you could see him everyday, so honestly fuck that you guys attended different schools, and resorting to calling each other did bring both of you to ease, but not at this goddamn, forsaken time, with one you love phoning you with 17,000 vibrations per second, and the other idiot you were practically forced to love, perched next to you, indignantly gripping the wheel with such force you couldn’t decide which one generated more turbulence within you.

Tensely clutching what was now a scorching piece of metal, you held it up conscientiously to your ear, and forced yourself to breathe out calmly and collectively. Every single mention, tidbit and strand, bob and fragment of Soonyoung that was mentioned around you when you were with your brother grabbed your trachea in its firm hold and forced the wind out of you.

“Hey, Hoshi,” you managed to choke out in a level headed manner.

Hoshi. That was what you and Soonyoung agreed to nickname him if you ever picked up a call from him around your brother or his teammates, but god forbid you were actually allowed to have a life of any sort!

“Babe,” Soonyoung mewled out from the other line, “I actually can’t do this. Don’t tell him, but your brother is really good...of course he is.”

Frowning because of Soonyoung’s lack of usual mirth and brimming confidence, you sighed, “If you let it get to you, then your thoughts affect your actions, and you don’t want that to happen right? You’ll be fine...and I’m not just saying this to say something, but you’re really good too, and you can’t let one person bring your entire mood down...even if...you know…”

“Will you at least come with me to my dorm after the game?”

“Oh you know I’ll be doing more than that,” giggling into your phone, trying to sound as enticing as possible, completely engrossed in this very conversation, as it was all the time talking with Soonyoung.

Both of you had a habit of drastically turning your talks from upside downs to those of obvious elation. They were conversations sometimes needed to be kept in the comforting privacy, selfishly not wanting to let anyone else in on the baby i missed you’s and the do you need anything from the boba shop’s and literally you don’t have the right to look this good’s.

Startled by the grunting and hacking oh so wonderfully expired by the total jackass to your left, you contended to the third degree, with the patience that was never really there starting to thin out, “Do you need something?”

It wasn’t uncommon for Soonyoung to call coincidentally at the times you were with—more like right next to—his rival, probably because his

#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #hoshi #hoshi imagines #hoshi scenarios #soonyoung imagines #soonyoung scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #hoshi fluff

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cthulhuliet · 3 years

Text

Scotty Doesn't Know

6.8k words | AO3 Link | warnings: explicit content, internalized homophobia, cheating

Light Yagami is the epitome of perfection: honor student, a popular kid, and an attentive boyfriend. But if L had learned one thing it is that pretty boys always lie, and he was about to be caught in a web of Light's biggest ones.

During his time at To-Oh university, L has learned 3 things. 1) never eat the spring onions in the dining hall. 2) people will like you if you carry gum and pencils in your bag. 3) pretty boys always lie.

That last one was a recent development though, something he added to his social checklist as his dark eyes stared back into Light Yagami pretty brown ones, specks of red flickering in the low light.

It was the first party L had ever been to. He didn’t stick out, but he was not exactly blending in. His bare feet dug into the plush carpeting at Misa Amane’s apartment. She was the one who invited him.

He would exactly call Misa and himself friends , just someone whom he was friendly towards. L did not do friends. Keeping people at arm's length-- staying alone-- that is how he stayed alive. It is a system he is not intending to change simply because a pretty girl treated him kindly and kissed him on the cheek when he agreed to come to her Friday night get-together. Though, L would be lying if the thought didn’t cross his mind.

L was not focused on Misa at the moment. L was staring back at the pretty boy who Misa was hanging off of, who had girls laughing even though he said nothing funny. Who commanded the attention of the whole room when he spoke, even though he really wasn’t saying anything at all, his words holding no real substance.

L first noticed Light in his forensics lectures. The boy always seemed to have a crowd around him, always seemed to impress his professors, and always seemed to have all the answers. It seemed as though no one could even bring themselves to hate him for it either, like most do with popular kids their age-- how could they when he was just so charming and pretty and so damn bright ?

He took it upon himself to observe Light (purely for curiosity's sake), watching the way he walks across campus, always studying under the same bench with just enough shade to be comfortable, how he politely listens as his girlfriend talks about photoshoot and modelling drama-- and L believed him to be just that. Just a hard working college student, a popular guy and an attentive boyfriend.

Though, staring back at Light, looking into his eyes, he sees the optical illusion that is Light Yagami. Taking him in at face value is easy-- it paints an attractive picture of the popular honors-student who seems to have his life all figured out. However, the thing about optical illusions is that one step back, one ripple or one tear in the picture ruins it and you see the image for what it is: a disconnected, imperceptible fantasy. That is what L saw in Light Yagami when he finally caught that pretty boy in a lie.

“I have no interest in doing anything with Ryuzaki,” Light shrugged; pretty, pretty brown eyes twinkling under the string lights around Misa’s apartment, “ ‘7 minutes in heaven’ would be more like ‘7 boring minutes spent in a closet’,” The group around him chuckled at his attempt at a joke. L is sure Light could be funny if he tried.

“Of course,” L hooked a finger into his mouth, “Besides, Light is not interested in men anyway, so what is the harm.”

Light’s eyes flashed with someone unknown, something scared, before nodding and standing up, “Exactly,” He kissed Misa on the cheek, and looked back at L before walking to the other side of the apartment. Misa gave L a once-over as he stood up, before softly sighing, pushing him toward the large broom closet, promptly shoving them in and closing the door.

The silence that followed in the closet was not exactly awkward or uncomfortable, but there was a lot unspoken that needed to be said. That optical illusion was wavering-- the edges becoming frayed as Light slowly breathed. Although L couldn’t really see it, he could feel Light’s eyes staring back at his silhouette.

“Misa and I have been dating for almost 2 years now,” Light opened with. It was only then that L realised this was their first one on one interaction.

“Congratulations.”

“You transferred here pretty recently, so you probably didn’t know that.”

“I did not.”

The two stood next to one another in silence for a while.

“I am not gay, you know.”

L blinked, “I didn’t think you were. You do have a girlfriend after all.”

“Yeah, I do.” More silence, followed by, “Are you gay?” This was a hushed whisper, rushed and nervous, like even talking about those homosexuals your mother warned you about was forbidden.

“What?”

“I know you heard me.”

L sighed, “I wouldn’t say that. Personally I have no preference. Men, women, whatever, it is all the same to me.”

“I see.”

More silence. L didn’t really know what to say, but luckily he didn’t have to think of anything, as Light stepped forward, cupping L’s cheeks and kissing him.

L was not sure how to react at first. His mind raced, wondering what the morality of messing around with a man who is clearly confused about his own identity is, and also breaking the trust of one of his colleagues, not to mention the ethics of cheating in of itself. But also Light’s lips tasted like the apple cinnamon chapstick he always carries with him, and he is pressing his chest against L’s and running his hands underneath his shirt, and it feels too damn good to stop.

L wrapped his arms around Light’s broad shoulders, pulling him closer and nipping his bottom lip, allowing his tongue to slip forward into Light’s mouth. Light gasped at the action, whimpering and digging his nails into L’s hips. He knew that Light’s perfectly manicured nails would leave half-moon indents that were deep enough to last until the morning. This made L smile.

He kissed Light’s cheek and then kissed all the way down his jaw. L peppered kisses along Light’s neck, the other man gasping and biting his knuckle. L moved his hands under Light’s shirt, and ran his fingernails down his back, Light harshly biting his hand to stifle a guttural moan.

L pulled away, and he could see Light’s eyes at this distance. He expected him to look confused, or ashamed, or angry, but he mostly just looked horny.

“The others are going to come get us soon.” L explained in a low voice. Light nodded, and began fixing his hair, breathing steadily to remove the flushness on his face.

“Ryuzaki?”

“Yes?”

“Can this be… Just… Don’t tell anyone about this, ok?” Light’s voice was a bit cold a stiled, and L held back a chuckle.

“Of course, Light.”

≠

Lately, L has spent most of his free time kissing Light in private. Sometimes at night when everyone had already left the library, sometimes on the roof of the science building, sometimes in the backseat of L’s car. Light seemed to really like kissing in the backseat of L’s car. Maybe it was the way the plush velvet seats folded down, or the way the windows were tinted so dark it felt almost illegal to drive, or maybe he liked how L always has shitty 80’s pop playing at a low volume. L wasn’t sure, but it was almost like clockwork to kiss for hours on end in the secluded forested part of the college town.

L was sitting on Light’s lap, the younger man writhing and gasping underneath him, gripping harshly at the back of L’s shirt. A thin sheen of sweat coated Light’s forehead, and L ran his nails up and down Light’s sides as he nipped at his earlobe, making him gasp. L found that Light got easily worked up from even the most subtle of action. He was very sensitive.

L worked at the buttons on the front of Light’s shirt, slowly unclasping them, “Light, have you come to enjoy kissing me?”

“Y-yeah, you’re really good at this, of course I do Ryuzaki.”

L hummed, fully unbuttoning Light’s shirt, but not wanting to take it off him yet. Light looked really good in black. He instead pulled a lever to push the seats down, pressing on Light’s chest to guide him onto his back. L kissed up Light’s chest, restraining himself from biting into the pretty tan skin. L licked a small stripe over Light’s chest, grazing his nipple with his tongue to see his reaction.

Light back arched and he gasped out L’s name, and ran a hand through his hair. L kissed his right nipple and slowly licked the nub, grazing his teeth softly over it, hoping to draw out more gasps and whines from Light.

“What about this, Light?” L asked in a low voice, still teasing him with his thumb and forefinger, smirking up at him.

Light nodded, panting, “Yes, yeah… That feels great.”

“Has Misa ever touched you here?” L asked. He felt Light stiffen, even just for a moment. There was an unspoken agreement that they never brought up Light’s girlfriend, or maybe Light just never expected L to. Light did not respond, so L attached himself to Light’s other nipple, sucking on it while still teasing the other one. Light moaned loudly, now stifling his noises by hooking his fingers in his mouth. L pulled off of Light, a string of saliva dripped from L’s mouth, “Light? Answer me?”

“No, no she hasn’t.”

“Hmm,” L hummed, running his blunt fingernails up and down his sides like he knows he enjoys, “Has any girlfriend ever given you this treatment?” Light bit his lip and shook his head. L nodded, and his fingertips teased the edges of Light’s pants, “Does Light want me to touch him in more places today?”

The two had not done more than kissing and biting with wandering hands. L didn’t mind. He would never describe himself as a patient man but rushing anything like this would surely be heading for disaster. Light looked down at him with wide brown eyes, and the innocence of his gaze almost put the optical illusion back in place for him, but then he remembered where he was: touching and teasing perfect Light Yagami, who is obviously not the person everyone sees. That illusion quickly broke as Light gasped out a “please”, moving his own hands to unzip his jeans.

L slapped his hand away, shaking his head at him. “I am doing this part, do I need to make you keep your hands to yourself?”

There was a dangerous glint in his eye, one that L had not seen before from him. Light hummed, “Hmm, you might. I don’t know.” And this was Light playing rough, not stupid. L did not think Light could be dumb, even if he tried. Internalized shame and heavy amounts of guilt prevented Light from being as much of a tease as he could be, though L knows he is more than capable. Two can play at that.

L moved up Light’s body, capturing his lips with his. He bit down on Light’s bottom lip, causing the younger man to gasp and allowed for L to tangle his tongue with Light’s. Simultaneously, he grabbed Light’s tie and pinned his hands together, doing a simple knot around his wrists above his head.

L pulled away, smirking. Light’s eyes were wide and watery, certainly not expecting L to call his bluff. If Light did have any experience with bondage of any sort, he cannot imagine it was the man himself who was getting tied down and taken care of. The clean-cut honors student types always want to be taken care of, didn’t they? Being in control and in charge of everything in their life, just needing someone else to take the reins for once.

Finally, L was able to undo Light’s pants, pulling them off and throwing them to the front seat. He palmed Light through his boxers, his cock was already fully hard and straining against the fabric. The car was nothing but quiet with Light’s gasps and moans, and L almost let it keep going on, because he is sure that Light’s begging would be simply heavenly.

He pulled Light boxers off, giving them the same treatment as his slacks. Light bit his lip as the cool air hit his cock. L pressed his thumb to his lips and slowly traced a finger up and down his shaft, fingertips barely ghosting over him. Light made an undignified whine and L smirked slightly. Maybe he did want to hear him beg.

"Ryuzaki…” Light said, possibly in an attempt to sound commanding, but his voice was so fucked out it came across as a needy moan.

“Being tied up like this, defiled by another boy… It shouldn’t make you this happy, should it, Light?”

“ Ryuzaki… ”

L teased the head of his cock with his thumb, “What would people think if they saw you like this? With me?” He hummed, Light gasped as L slowly stroked him, “What would your classmates say? Your friends? Misa?” He stressed.

“Oh God…”

L picked up his movements, “Do you think they would be shocked? Horrified? Perfect Light Yagami tangled up in the sheets with Ryuzaki?” He chuckled to himself, Light holding back his moans, “I personally am not surprised. Right now, all I see is a contented slut getting what he deserves.”

“Ryuz- Ryuzaki please , please give me what I deserve... I need it, please …”

And Light’s begging was all it took. L took all of Light in his mouth, deep-throating him and letting the head of his cock hit the back of his throat. It only took a few more seconds before Light was crying out his name and coming down Ryuzaki’s throat.

L pulled off of Light and looked up at him, the other man’s cheeks were flushed and his face completely blissed out. L leaned forward and gave him a brief kiss on the lips, Light returned it happily.

“Hey…” Light started, quietly, “I know you were just saying it… But… You won’t actually…”

L shook his head, “This all stays between us, remember?”

Pretty boys always lie…

≠

L and Light had graduated from messy blowjobs in the back of L’s towncar to L practically folding Light in half and fucking him on the plush sheets in his apartment. L does not exactly know what Light tells Misa if she asks why he is spending almost 5 days a week at L’s apartment, he doesn’t bother, it is not his relationship.

It is not everyday that L pins Light against the mattress right when they get back, now preferring to let things build up slowly. In fact, for the past 6 months they have been doing this, they do their work in silence across L’s dining room table, or sit on the couch and just talk. Talk about their classes, their ideas, their goals. L didn’t think he would ever get tired of listening to Light talk. Just like he did not think he would ever get tired of pressing into Light, hearing the other man moan under him.

L currently had Light’s hands bound to the headboard; his long, athletic legs were hooked over L’s shoulder’s as L slowly pushed deep into Light.

“M-more Ryuzaki… Fuck … more…”

L tsked and shook his head, “My my, Light, where are you manners,” He punctuated his statement with one quick thrust into Light, perfectly hitting his prostate, causing him to cry out and moan, “Ask politely.”

Light writhes under him, thrashing at the headboard which had his hands tied, “Go to hell, Ryuzaki…” He whined.

In response, L yanked his hair, and licked a stripe up Light’s neck. He nibbled on Light’s ear lobe, knowing how much he liked it. He ran his hands up his thighs, and gave him a swift but stinging smack, Light groaning at the harsh contact. L often closed his eyes and imagined how pretty Light would look covered in bruises and love bites-- being able to mark him up and claim Light Yagami as his . It was an attractive picture, one he did his best to keep at a distance. “Don’t make this difficult Light, just ask politely…” Which they both knew was another way of saying ‘beg for it’.

“Go faster Ryuzaki… Please…” Light gasped out, and L snickered, speeding up his thrusts.

“See, now was that so ha-” He was cut off by Light’s phone ringing. L reached into his discarded pants and pulled out his phone, gripping the top of it with his thumb and forefinger, “It is Misa.” He says.

Light groans, shaking his head, “Just let it ring, I will call her back after this.”

A wicked smile spreads across L’s face, looking at the caller id and Light’s hands still tied to the bed. Light cocks an eyebrow.

“I hope you have learned to control your noises, Light.” L tells him. Before he can ask any questions, L flips open the phone and presses talk, holding the phone against Light’s ear.

“Hi sweetie!” Misa’s voice came through over the phone, L close enough to be able to hear her, littering kisses across Light’s collarbone and moving his hips painfully slowly, in and out of Light.

“H-hi baby, how are you doing?” Light panted out, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I am doing good! I am glad you picked up, it has been so long since I heard your voice,” There was a considerable amount of background noise on Misa’s end, a busy shopping mall or possibly a photoshoot set. L took that into consideration, now very pointedly moving, angling his cock to merely brush against Light’s prostate. The younger man was squirming underneath him-- this kind of edging would be punishing enough typically; with his girlfriend on the phone it made it simply torturous.

“Ah- Yeah, sorry I have been so preoccupied lately, I promise I will make time just for us soon.” Light’s voice was obviously stilted and strained, but L was counting on the noises from wherever Misa was to distract from that fact (he is sure Light is counting on that too). L pressed kisses along Light’s neck up to his ear, nibbling on the lobe that wasn’t currently occupied with the phone conversation.

“What exactly has kept you so preoccupied, Light?” L whispered in his ear, knowing how much Light liked the soothing sound of his low voice, “Or more accurately who has been getting your attention?” L could hear Misa talking, but he wasn’t exactly trying to make out what she was saying, “Go on and tell her. Tell her what we have been up to. Tell Misa what a good slut you have been for me, I know how much you like to hear it.”

Light eyes were welling up at praise and degradation dripped over him like honey. The dual sensations of L fucking him and using his one free hand to tease his nipples is enough to have anyone panting. But he had to keep his breathing even, doing his best to not moan as his girlfriend tells him about the modelling shoot she is currently on a short break at. He was relatively stable, that was until L moved his hand lower, teasing the head of his cock, clearly not satisfied with how well the other man was showing restraint. L couldn’t help but smile when Light gasped once he touched him. He could faintly hear Misa pause, asking him what was wrong.

“Oh dear, Light,” L teased, Light was now biting his lip so hard he was fearing he would break the skin, “Are you ready for your girlfriend to finally find out what a filthy fucking whore you are?”

Light shook his head, answering Misa and doing his best to ignore L. “Ah, sorry baby, I just looked at my phone battery, I am going to die soon. J-just text me when you wrap up, ok?”

“Oh, ok! Talk to you later, then, love you sweetie!”

“Y-yeah, you too.” L snapped the phone closed with a ‘clack’ and threw it across the room. Light let out a guttural moan, frustrated tears ran down his cheeks.

“Light? Are you o-”

“Fuck me Ryuzaki, please please, dear Lord I need this.” Light’s voice was broken and needy-- a man who was kept on the edge for far too long.

“I hope I didn’t go too far.” L stood on his knees, lifting Light’s hips up. Previously restraint was gone, L’s hips snapped roughly into Light, he didn’t think that he could hold himself back if he tried.

Light was extremely receptive to the violent pace, gasping and whining, already so far gone.

“ There! Keeping going, fuck … I am so close, please.” Light begged, his eyes screwed shut and he pulled at the restraints, moaning. “What you did was fucking insane, Ryuzaki, but fuck I had never been so turned on in my fucking life.” He gave a weak chuckle, “Maybe I am a filthy slut like you say.”

L nodded, gripping tightly on Light’s hips, only half-worried about his fingertips leaving bruises for later, “It is about time you listened to me, Light.”

“Did I do good?” Light asked. His voice was broken and wrecked, and God, it was so good to listen to. “Was I a good slut, Ryuzaki?”

L nodded, feeling himself getting close as well, “You were a good boy, yes Light, a perfect whore. A perfect fucking slut for me.”

“ Ahh! Yes, fuck yes… A good slut for you, your good slut-- all yours .” Light came with L’s name on his lips, the other man following shortly after. A few chaste kisses followed as they both came down, and L ignored the twisting feeling in his gut.

≠

L hated parties. He hated birthday parties even more. Something about the idea of an adult expecting gifts and attention simply for existing is something that seems childish and trival. Especially when that adult is Misa Amane, who rented out a banquet all for her party. L doesn’t hate Misa, he doesn’t. Though, he couldn’t help the self satisfied smirk that creeped onto his face, coupled with an immoral sense of superiority when Light dragged him away to a secluded pantry on the other side of the venue.

“Mmm, someone is needy,” L muttered, pulling the lapels on Light’s blazer closer to him for a needy kiss, “Glad you are giving the birthday boy special treatment.”

“Shut up.” Light muttered, kissing L like he means it, greedy and desperate.

The two grind against one another, the closed space and limited time not offering as many options as typical-- it brought back a similar feeling of way back in the early days of their correspondence where they would kiss in the dark stacks of the library; L still trying to figure out what makes Light squirm, and Light still barely comfortable enough to put his hands on L’s waist.

Oh how fast the night changes he thinks idly to himself as Light pulls on his messy waves, exposing the alabaster expanse of his neck and latched himself onto it as he has seen L do many times, though he actually gets to feel Light’s teeth sink into him and admire the purple against white the next day.

L quickly undoes Light’s belt and slacks, pulling them off with his boxers, knowing they only had a limited amount of time before the hostess of the party figures out her “guest of honor” has been missing for several minutes. Following the pants, L drops to his knees, taking Light’s cock in his mouth all at once. Light tangles his hands in L’s hair, slowly but steadily fucking his mouth.

“We have a limited amount of time, you realize?” L pulled away, and Light groaned at the loss of contact.

Light shook his head, “I don’t think anyone is going to come looking for me.”

L slowly stroked him, thumb rubbing over the slit of his head, causing Light to bite his lip through a moan, his back hitting the wall behind him. L looked up at him, eyes impossibly wide, “I think you misjudge how strongly Ms. Amane’s infatuation with you is.”

Light didn’t respond to that, so L took the head of Light’s cock in his mouth, the man biting down on two knuckles to stifle his noises. L knew he was getting close, after almost a year of this affair, L knew exactly what to do to get Light to tremble and squirm and just how far to push until he is over the edge.

His orgasm rips through him, Light gripping tightly onto L’s hair, making him moan around Light’s cock. He wipes his mouth with one of the cocktail napkins placed neatly on the shelves. He gingerly took Light’s hand as he helped him off the floor, pulling L in for another messy kiss.

Light drew his nails down L’s back, now panting into his mouth, but the two quickly jumped apart when they heard the click of heels making their way down the adjacent hall.

“Light? Are you down here?”

The two froze and looked at one another. “Misa,” Light mouthed, and L rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t warn Light of this exact situation previously.

“Come on.” L quickly pulled Light out of the pantry, walking him towards the bathrooms directly on the other end of the hall before she rounded the corner spotting them, “Tell her you were seeing me off and I had to leave early, and you stopped by the restrooms before you came back. Also…” He pulled a small wrapped object out of the back of his pocket. It was long but thin, containing a rose gold gemmed bracelet. “It is a bracelet. It will distract her from any questions that she has.”

“Ryuzaki I-”

L shook his head, running a hand under the water of one of the bathroom sinks and fixed Light’s mussed and imperfect hair, “Don’t. I’ll be fine.” This only works if you keep lying. C’mon Light, where is the illusion? “Go. Do what needs to be done.”

L shoved Light out of the bathroom, just in time too, for he ran into his girlfriend. He listened to their idle voices from the bathroom and felt a wave of bittersweet joy from Misa’s elation at the gift. He stayed until their voices disappeared and snuck out the exit near the back. He always did hate birthday parties.

≠

It was around 2am when L heard the knocking on his door. Confused and apprehensive, he opened the door to see a disheveled and tired Light on the other side. His eyes were rimmed red with dark circles underneath them. L wasn’t sure if he had ever seen him in such a state.

“Light? What are you doing here? Are you ok-” L’s concerns were cut off by Light cupping his cheeks and kissing him. Not the passionate and needy type that he is used to, but raw and emotional. He wrapped his arms around L’s neck and held onto him like his lifeline.

L did not disconnect from his lips, instead leading them both to his bed. It was still neatly made (it being essentially unused since the last time Light was over) but he pulled back the duvet and crawled under it, Light following close behind.

L held Light for a long time, running his fingers through his perfect brown hair and offering light kisses. A few rare moments of silence passed, and Light’s breathing became a lot more steady and the touches less needy.

“It is much past the time you are typically asleep. What on Earth are you doing here? This isn’t like you.” L muttered lowly in Light’s ear.

Light huffed, “I apologise for not fitting your perfect honor student archetype.”

“That is not what I mean. I am not talking about perfect, clean-cut college senior Light.”

“Wha- but that is me.”

L shifted slightly, pressing a thumb to his lips, “On the surface, sure. You are the definition of sublimity and much sharper than those around you. Not to say you are not that, but there is much more to it. Despite being one of the top students in Japan, you do not care as much as people think you do, and you obviously have secrets of your own. Do not try to play coy with me, Light, I greatly dislike being belittled.”

Light was silent for a while, tracing nondescript patterns along L’s chest, “I thought that I was the number one student in Japan.”

L stifled a laugh, “One of us here is.”

“I have never even seen your name on the national rankings.”

“You have never seen Ryuzaki on the national rankings. Though I am sure you were around when Hideki Ryuga made an appearance.”

Light was silent for a moment before shaking his head, “I thought for a while now that Ryuzaki was an alias.” L hummed in response squeezing Light softly and pressing a kiss atop his head, “So, what is your true name?”

“I cannot tell you that, Light.”

“Why not?”

“I just can’t.”

Light pulled away from L’s arms and sat up, “That isn’t fair. I have been nothing but honest about myself with you, and you can’t share one stupid thing with me?”

“You still don’t get it…” L muttered to himself, sitting up and pulling his legs close to his chest.

“Get what?” Light spat out.

L sighed, “I cannot be fully honest with you until you are honest with yourself.”

Light opened his mouth and closed it again-- a brief moment of confusion before the anger took its place, “What does that mean?”

“What is it you truly desire of me, Light? How long are you going to conform to the expectations you created for yourself.” L’s voice was not angry or frustrated or even disappointed. He just sounded sad, “You are graduating college and Ms. Amane’s career is in full swing now. With how many years you have together she is going to be expecting marriage and a family soon. And then what? How much longer must you keep lying to her, to your family, to-- you know, forget all them. How much longer can you lie to yourself about what you really want? When will your self imposed expectations that you curated supersede who you really are?” Light stayed silent, his body was stiff and his eyes glassy. L sighed, “You may stay here tonight, of course. I will hold you and kiss you and love you tonight. But after that, I need to take your time to think about what exactly you are doing, and talk to me when you figure it out. You’re not the only one who is affected by your actions.”

He left the rest unspoken. Not saying he wanted to hold onto Light forever, finally call him his, and not put an ultimatum on their love. But it was too painful to say the rest out loud.

L held Light and stroked his hair as he fell asleep. L tried to fight off his own exhaustion, but his eyes eventually closed and he drifted off as well. He woke up the next morning cold and in an empty bed.

≠

It has been about three months since L and Light had seen one another. That’s fine. L doesn’t need anyone. Staying alone is how he stays alive. He goes through his school work faster than ever, senior finals quickly approaching for him, though he has no doubt that he could manage without trying. That doesn’t stop him from doing so for whatever reason. He just needs to keep busy.

L was editing an essay when his phone rang, Misa Amane’s contact name appearing. L stared at the phone for several seconds, weighing his options. He eventually snatched the phone and flipped it open, “Yes?” He dumped all the sugar cubes from his bowl onto the table, idly stacking them.

“Hi, Ryuzaki, sorry to call you this late-” L glanced at the clock, just past midnight, “But I was just wondering if Light was with you.”

L paused, and bit his lip, “No, actually. I have not seen Light for about 3 months now.”

There was silence on the other end of the call, L could only hear static on the other end. He made his tower about 6 cubes high before Misa spoke, “3 months? You haven’t heard from him for 3 months? He said he was going to talk to you ages ago. I am worried about him, Ryuzaki.”

“What seems to be your cause for concern?”

Misa sighed, “I broke up with Light about 2 weeks ago,” L knocked over his cube tower, sending sugar crystals careening over his laptop. He couldn’t tell if he was breathing at this point or not, his heart was beating so slowly… Or fast? L couldn’t for the life of him tell, “He said that he was going to talk to you shortly after I ended things, but I hadn’t heard from him or seen from him, and now you have no idea what's going on, and oh God, what if he is dead or killed himself I don-”

“Misa?”

“Yes?”

“Please calm down for me, ok?” L hooked a finger in his mouth, trying to keep his voice level for Misa’s sake, “I am concerned for Light as you are. I just need you to answer me some questions and I should be able to figure out where he may be.”

“You don’t think he is dead?” Misa choked out.

“I say there is only 2.5% Light is dead, and that would be due to forces outside of the situation. Light is strong, he would never try to kill himself.”

“I- I know this Ryuzaki, I am sorry.”

“Never apologise for your feelings, Misa.” L dragged his finger across his desk and licked the sugar off of his finger. “What was the last thing you two talked about?”

Misa’s voice was quiet, but self assured, “We haven’t talked since I ended things. After that, he hasn’t been in class or on campus.”

“You did break up with him, surely he doesn’t want a lot of interaction with others right now.”

Misa huffed, “No, that can’t be it. I broke up with Light for his own good.”

L nervously bit at the skin around his nails, “If I may pry, what is the reasoning for the termination of your relationship.”

“I was afraid you would ask that…” Misa sighed, clearly debating what she wanted to say. L moved the mouse on his computers and idly scrolled through the essay he was editing, needing something to distract him, even if he was not processing any of the words being read on screen, “This is what Light was supposed to talk to you about but... I ended things because he… Ryuzaki, he is in love with you.” L bit down on his thumb. Hard. The metallic taste of blood was the only thing that was keeping him from passing out. “When we started our relationship 3 years ago, I knew he didn’t love me like I loved him, but I figured he would be able to learn to, right? But, something changed once he met you… He was smiling more and happier, but also distant and confused and pensive. I think he has been wrestling with this for a while, and it is unfair to myself, Light, or you to continue a relationship that no one is happy with.”

“Misa, I-”

“I am sure you are also a bit shocked about this turn of events as well… Or maybe not, I don’t know how much you suspected, but Ryuzaki I-” She sighed, sniffling slightly. L popped a sugar cube in his mouth. If Misa was about to start crying he needed all the glucose support he could get, “I was really mad at you at first. I hated you. But now I realise I should thank you. I was settling for someone who never really gave me their all, or really wanted me for me. I settled, and so did Light. We both deserve better. He wants you, and if you want him, let him know.”

“Did you tell Light all this as well?”

“Yea, it was the last thing we talked about.”

L chewed on his lip, “I think I know where he is.”

≠

“Well, this is certainly unexpected.”

Light turned around, L smirking softly behind him, the chilly wind musing his hair and chilling his bare feet. Light sighed, standing up from the collection of boulders he was on, facing L. He tugged his jacket closer around himself, “How did you find me here?”

“Cameras everywhere.” L idly pointed around, and Light simply raised an eyebrow, “Misa called me, told me what happened. I was able to figure out the rest”

Light nodded, sitting back down, but facing L still, “I see.” He looked at Light a little more. His state and appearance were worse than when he saw L 3 months ago, though it was clear he was trying to hide it. His pretty tan skin was sickly and shallow and his eyes were hollow. The illusion of perfect Light Yagami wasn’t just gone, it was ripped to pieces and set on fire.

“Can I sit?” L asked, and Light made a small gesture with his hand. L crouched next to him, placing his hands atop his knees but remaining a good distance away from Light. He looked around at the forest. The very same place he and Light kissed his car, nearly everyday after classes for many months. They both had become very familiar with the area, though the tension in the air is palpable and unlike what L was used to. It reminded him of the closet incident a year ago. Nerves alight in both men, having no idea what action to take next.

“You look good.” Light said. L held back a chuckle, he looks like he always does and he knows it.

“You look tired, Light.”

“I am tired.” He responds simply. They stay silent for a few moments. L has so much he wants to ask, but this was Light’s conversation to lead, “I have been so stupid.” Light starts. He places his head in his hands, and runs his fingers through his hair, “I told myself the loneliness would go away with time. It didn’t, but I kept ignoring it. I just couldn’t stop thinking about what you said and…” Light sighed, “No one has ever been that honest with me. They tell me I am perfect and good, so I thought this hollowness that I have felt ever since I was a child was normal. And then.... Then you came along telling me things could be better, and it could go away and I… I was scared.”

“Why?”

“Even if it is a bad feeling, it is terrifying to think of life without it.”

L nodded, pressing his thumb to his lips, “You would have ignored it forever if Misa hadn’t broken up with you.”

Light chuckled weakly, shaking his head, “Yeah, I probably would have.”

“Did you tell her, Light?”

He shook his head, “Misa doesn’t know. Maybe one day, I will tell her. Right now… She is being incredibly selfless, and I have been incredibly selfish, I didn’t want to add to that.”

“You realize that withholding the truth from her is, in of itself, a selfish action right?” Light gave him a pointed look and L just sighed, “So, why here then?”

Light looked pensively up at the stars, leaning back on his palms. Even with exhaustion and stress seeping through his body, he was still so beautiful, “The simplest way to put it is… Is I missed you. And I didn’t know what to do. I felt like running and hiding and lying was the easiest way to deal with my feelings, but it is too painful to do that, and acting like such a coward is killing me. And now you are here, and I don’t know what to do.”

L pondered this for a moment, “Well, you could come over here and kiss me.”

Light looked at him, eyes wide, “Is that ok?”

Chuckling, L shook his head, “You were not this hesitant and asking for permission the first time.”

He moved closer to L, caressing his cheek. Light ran a hand through L’s hair and softly pressed his lips against L’s. It wasn’t a symphony or a matching puzzle piece or the final brushstroke of a beautiful painting. It just felt so right after so long, and L could finally exhale.

“I am lucky to have you back, Light Yagami.” He kissed Light’s forehead.

Light smiled. Despite the fatigue still present, that familiar glow that Light always gleamed was returning, “Do I finally get a name for you now?”

“As long as I can call you mine,” He softly kissed Light’s cheek, “You can call me L.”

#death note #lawlight #l lawliet #light yagami #the people were furious with me about my last fic being so sad #so fine have the smutty AU goodness #I also have officially Run Out Of Ideas #kind of #run out of one shot ideas for like simple smut fics #starting a big project is spooky but I really want to and I will #anyways enjoy !#my writing

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hoekageyama · 4 years

Text

cmfrt

yaku morisuke x reader

warnings: nsfw, smut, uhhhh grey sweatpants (ik im sorry ew)

wc: ~3k

a/n: hi hi! this is my first piece, so pls go easy on me ._. this started off as something fluffy bc my desire for yaku content is thru the roof (as it should be), but ofc i got off the rails and went the soft smut route lmao oops. anyway, i hope u enjoy!

~ also! please don’t consume this content if you are not of age, thnx <3 ~

You and Yaku had been best friends for years. Having gone to the same middle school and practically being next door neighbors. Needless to say, you spent a lot of time together; you two were pretty much attached at the hip. So when Yaku told you that he’d also be going to Nekoma for high school, you were pretty excited but not really surprised.

Throughout high school, the two of you spent as much time together as possible, proving to be difficult at times with every ounce of Yaku’s free time being devoured by volleyball and the endless amounts of studying that was required for prepping for uni. All that aside, the two of you always found time for each other. Whether it be little lunch dates on the weekends, small study sessions in the library, or even facetime hangouts when you were both exhausted and too lazy to actually meet up face to face.

It felt like any other Friday when you and Yaku met up in the early morning to walk to school together. “Y/n, did you finish that history report yet? I’m almost done, but I need someone to review it so I don’t look like an idiot when I present on it.” Yaku ran a hand through his light brown hair and looked over to your slightly shorter form.

You turn to Yaku, noticing how his cheeks were slightly flushed due to the cold wind blowing directly in your faces. “Just about. I just need to finish my conclusion, but it shouldn’t take me too long to power through it. Also, yeah, I can take a look at it. No worries.” You turn away after answering the boy, and continue on your walk, thinking that was the end of that conversation. You can feel his gaze on you suddenly, leaving your cheeks to tint to that familiar shade of red. “Thanks. Also… are you free tonight?” he asks with slight notes of hesitation in his voice. You glance at him through the side of your eye noticing his fidgeting hands. “Yea, I’m free. What’s up?”

Without looking at you or answering, he slows his pace until he’s stopped. Standing and gazing out at the trees that lined the roads, watching as the Maple leaves are shed from their branches, showing the first true signs of winter. You stop alongside him and nudge him slightly with your elbow, “Why’d you ask so suddenly, Mori? Something up?”

He jumps slightly being pulled from his thoughts. He glances over at you, “Oh, uh, no reason really. I was just wondering if you’d wanna come over tonight to study and hangout. We can chill and watch movies like the old times. I have the house to myself and all so…” When you see his raised eyebrow and sly smirk grace his features, you feel your face heat up slightly.

You turn to him giggling, “Oooooh, Mori! I didn’t know you could be such a flirt!” He wraps an arm around your shoulders and forces you to start walking again. “If that’s what you call flirting, then the guys you talk to must be braindead.” He pulls you a little closer into his chest, laughing along with you now. You nuzzle your head into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, “Of course I’ll come. As long as you treat me to some takeout tonight.” He nods and smiles, looking at your slightly smaller form clinging to his for warmth. “Deal. We can stop by the store on our walk home, and I’ll get you whatever ya want.” You only nod in agreement, leaving the two of you to walk the rest of the way in a comfortable silence.

As the day moved on, you found yourself getting a bit anxious for your hangout with your best friend. It’s not like you haven’t slept over at his house before. In fact, you and Yaku practically slept at each other’s houses every weekend for as long as you can remember. But what was so different now? Oh yeah, that’s right. It’s because now you were painfully aware of your burning crush on the mighty libero.

The final bell signaling the day’s end rings as you make your way through the double doors of Nekoma. Making your way towards the gym, you see Kuroo and Kai standing by the entrance chatting. “Yo Tets! Kai! You guys seen Mori anywhere?” The two both wave in greeting as you move closer to the duo. “Yea, I think he’s getting changed right now. Should be out in a bit.” Kai states. “You two still aren’t dating yet? You guys act like you're married already.” says Kuroo, rustling your hair. “Oh shut uuuuup already.” you hear Yaku groan from inside the gym. “You’re so worried about our relationship when you can barely hold a conversation with a girl without looking like a nerd.” Yaku scoffs, punching Kuroo’s arm.

The four of you eventually split off into your own groups, making your way home for the weekend. The walk home doesn’t take very long. It’s filled with Yaku telling you about Kuroo’s horrible chemistry pickup lines and complaining about the test you both had coming up. Midway through, you both stopped at the store, picking out ample snacks for your movie night and some dinner for later.

Upon finally trudging through the icy winds, you arrive at Yaku’s house. He unlocks the door, but steps aside to let you in first. “What a gentleman!” you say jokingly as he laughs from your reaction. You slide your shoes off at the door and make a beeline straight for Yaku’s bedroom, plastic bag filled with goodies in hand. Yaku lets out a happy sigh and soon follows suit.

Once in Yaku’s room, you lie face down on his bed groaning. “What’s wrong now, princess?” he asks as he closes the door. Plopping down on the bed next to you with two juice pouches already in hand he nudges you gently to sit up. “I completely forgot to stop by my house to pick up clothes for tonight. All I have in my bag are gym clothes.” you sigh in exasperation as you take the pouch from his cold hands.

“Oh stop. You know you can always just use some of my clothes.” he shrugs while taking a sip of his juice. “I mean.. You’ve done it before. It’s not that big of a deal. I- if you’re ok with it, that is.” he says looking over to you, waiting for your response. You nod in response moving to lie in his lap.

If you didn’t know Yaku well enough, you wouldn’t have noticed the way he tenses slightly, ears the tiniest bit redder than they were moments ago braving the cold of the outside world. “Well then, get me something comfy because I need to get out of this skirt asap!” you say brushing down the edges of your skirt, putting them into place. “I’ll say..” he mumbles. You barely heard it, but it makes your cheeks grow a little red.

After you both finish your drink, you see him disappear into his closet only to emerge moments later with two sets of clothes in hand. He tosses a black t-shirt and a pair of red shorts to you on the bed. Both of which, landing right on top of your face. “I’ll go shower up first since I don’t take ages like some people.” he says with a smirk as he reaches the door.

You giggle hearing his mocking tone “Ok that was one time! And to be fair, it was all your fault. My hair smelled like Yakuult for days after!” He blushes slightly remembering the incident, but chooses to only shake his head laughing to himself as he continues his pursuit for the bathroom.

You lie in his bed scrolling through some app on your phone when you hear the door open. Yaku returns, toweling off his lightly dampened hair, clad in just a pair of grey sweatpants that seem to barely hand onto his waist. You feel your thighs press together tightly as he throws a hoodie on, turning to see your flustered state. “What? Am I too hot for ya?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows. “Oh shut up!” you groan, rushing passed him and right out the door. You quickly hop into the shower once in the bathroom to cool off your burning cheeks, praying that you can keep it together for the rest of the night.

Soon enough, you’re all dry, dressed, and heading for Yaku’s room. As you close the door, you see Yaku sitting at his desk running his fingers through his hair. Yaku had been working on his history paper while you were in the shower, and it seems he isn’t making much progress. You grab your back and move to sit by him, brushing against his leg with your own on the way down. He feels a shiver rush down his spine at the sudden delicate touch. “You ok, Mor?” you ask when you see him nodding profusely in response. “Yeah just can’t get this paper done. It’s like my mind is racing, but I can’t focus.” You rub his back and lean over to view his paper in front of him. The way you’re positioned isn’t helping Yaku’s brain one bit.

Yaku places a hand on your lower back, ogling at the way your back arches naturally reacting to his touch. He smooths out the back of your shirt, admiring the swell of your ass. He flushes a bit, feeling a dull throb and a tightness beginning to form in his sweatpants, when he notices how short you made the shorts after rolling the waistband up a few times to ensure they’d fit.

You subconsciously rub your thighs together a little while reading through his history report. You hoped that Yaku wouldn’t notice, but unlucky for you he did. He continued rubbing your back, slightly lowering his hand little by little until you felt his rough hand caress your ass. You turned around to look at him, but were met with eyes glazed over in lust. “Hey Mor, you ok?” you ask confused. “I’m fine, baby. Sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.” he says as he drops his hand into his lap in an attempt to conceal the bulge that began growing in his sweats. You shake your head giggling, moving back to your original position next to him. “Nah it’s all good, babe. Just…” you lose all train of thought you possibly had when you glance down and notice the outline of something in his sweatpants. “Hey, y/n, listen. I’m really sorry! I didn’t mean for this to happen, I promise. I- I just think you look really good in my clothes…. Sorry.” he quickly spits out.

He began shuffling to get up from you when you reach out and clamp a hand around his wrist. “Why are you apologizing, babe? I should probably be the one apologizing. Especially when you’ve made me like this.” you say bashfully, leading his hand to the wet spot that was now visible in the red shorts you wore. He groaned upon feeling the dampness. “What’s all this, princess? Why so wet already?” he coos into your ear, continuing to rub his rough hands against your clothed core.

After building up the courage to get this far, you threw all caution to the wind. “You, Mori. Fuck! I want you to touch me, please.” you let out a little moan as you palmed him through his sweats. You could tell just how hard he was through his pants. “Fuck, baby, I’ll do whatever you want. Just please let me fuck you.” he groans when you press a little harder onto his hardened cock.

Everything that happened next was a blur. Lips smashed together, tongues dancing, teeth clashing every now and then. You finally part lips, gasping for air as he tugs his hoodie off over his head. You follow suit, removing your shirt and shorts, leaving you standing nearly bare in between his legs as he lounged in his desk chair.

His eyes never leave yours as he unhooks your bra, allowing it to fall to the floor with a thud. His hands smooth over your breasts, rolling and pinching a nipple in between the rough pads of his fingers. He places open mouthed kisses from your jawline down to the swell of your breasts. Leaning back to take in the view once more he groans, saying, “You’re so beautiful, baby. I can’t believe you’ve been hiding these from me all this time.” you only moan as he moves in to nip at one of your pert nipples. Your hands immediately reach for his light brown locks and begin to tug in response to the stimulation.

His hands move to your lower body pulling off your lace underwear until they drop to the floor. You kick them aside before he grips your hips tightly. “Mo- Mori please, let me ride your cock.” you say through moans as he lightly trails a finger through your soaked folds. He removes his mouth from your chest with a lewd popping sound. He stands up to pull his sweats lower and sits back down in his seat. You take a moment to ogle at the sight before you. His cock, painfully hard, dripping precum from the swollen head. You grab his shoulders and move in to kiss him as his grip returns to your hips.

He hoists you up onto his lap, making you straddle the length in his lap. When your wet core makes contact with the length below you, you let out a lewd moan and grind in his lap. He hisses at the contact and tightens his grip on you to stop you from moving. “Patience, princess.” he groans out as you finally stop your ministrations. He lifts you slightly, aligning himself with your hole before looking up to you for approval. You simply nod your head and lower yourself onto his cock little by little. It isn’t too above average in length, but damn did he make up for it in girth.

You both hiss at the feeling of him being sheathed completely inside your tight cunt, neither of you moving to allow for you both to regain some composure. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight!” he groans, “Just let me know when you want to start moving.” You only nod your head, savoring the delicious stretch in your core.

As soon as you regain your bearings, you look up to him with glazed eyes, “Mori, mo- move please.” He attaches your mouth to his and gently lifts you, gripping your ass tightly. Before long, he let you take control. The pace you set is slow at first while you kiss him tenderly, running a hand through his hair, tugging gently every so often. His cock hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you, causing you to erupt in another lewd moan of his name. You feel him twitch inside you, he speeds up the pace a bit bringing your ass down harder each time he lifts you.

Before long you feel that familiar heat in your core building inside you. “Ah fuck, I’m c- close” you moan out as he snaps his hips up to meet yours. The sound of his balls slapping your ass is nearly enough to set you off, but when he reaches a hand down to place sloppy circles around your clit. The coil of heat building up finally snaps, and you’re thrown head first into the bliss of ecstasy.

Yaku groans feeling you tighten around his length. He continues fucking you through your high, and his pace begins to get sloppy before he pulls out frantically. Before he can ask you, you get on your knees in front of him and take him into your mouth. He hisses at the feeling of your tongue gliding over his swollen head and throws his head back in pleasure. With one hand in your hair, he pulls you lower onto his cock as he bursts ribbons of heat down the back of your throat.

After removing himself from your mouth and tucking himself back into his sweats, he pulls you back into his lap. He places a gentle kiss on your lips, holding you tightly in his arms. “Mori, I’m cooooooold.” you whine into his shoulder. “Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for bed, huh?”

He moves you onto his bed and quickly disappears to the bathroom. You see him return with a damp washcloth and a cup of water in hand. You let him clean you off as you look around the room for your clothes. “I’ll get you some new clothes ok? Just relax and drink your water while I put these washing.” he says, motioning to the pile of clothes on the floor. He hands you some garments and you quickly get dressed as he moves about the house.

He later returns, only to see you waiting for him with the takeout you had gotten earlier. He plops down beside on the bed for the second time tonight and pulls you into a hasty kiss. “You’re mine, right? I love you so much. I’ve dreamt of this for years. Please stay with me.” he says as he looks deep into your e/c eyes, while cupping your cheeks with his hands. “How can I say no?” you giggle, smashing your lips into his once more before chowing down on your takeout meals. The rest of the night is spent with the two of you cuddled up watching terrible rom-coms. The history report, long forgotten. That can wait for tomorrow.

- again, i’m so sorry at how trashy this is written lmaodfadfj

- if u did read it tho, tysm! ily & maybe send me some suggestions on what to write next. i’m down for whatever rlly. i’m trying to write more often so this is kinda just a warm up for now.

#yaku #yaku morisuke #yaku x yn #yaku x reader #yaku morisuke x reader #yaku morisuke x yn #yaku smut #yaku morisuke smut #all these tags make my head hurt #hoekageyama #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x yn #yaku.txt #hq.txt #hq_xx.txt #maddlibs

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stusbunker · 4 years

Text

AGA: Spit It Out

A Supernatural Denny AU

Featuring: Dean Winchester/ Benny Lafitte

Other Characters: John and Mary, Jody, Garth, Anna, Castiel, Sam, (mentioned) Benny, Jo, Jack

Word Count: 4222

Summary: Dean has the toughest conversation of his life. Cas asks questions. Sam is a little shit.

Warnings: Homophobic language, internalized biphobia, coming out

Series Masterlist

Shout out to the amazing @cracksinthewalls for all her help on this series.

Dean hadn’t realized how terrified he was of facing his father until he broke down at Jo’s. It hadn’t felt like something he would ever have to do until then. Now, it felt as inevitable as a death sentence.

John had always been a huge force in Dean’s life, but since he had gotten hurt to the point of disability, he was less of a presence and more of an imprint. Letting down his folks was the ultimate sin, one Dean had fought his whole life to resist. He knew they loved him, but would it be enough for them to see beyond the idea of Dean they had in their heads. Could they love a pansy?

His mother would be easier to bring on board; he was her favorite whether she’d admit it or not. On the other hand, John was a Marine, he was a mechanic; he didn’t deal with feelings or things he thought were reckless, selfish choices. Dean had never been selfish a day in his life, but this was something that seemed worth it. Benny was worth it. Dean couldn’t give up on family, and he needed them in his corner if it was going to work at all.

First, Dean just needed to get the words out.

The wind whipped through the neighborhood he grew up in like a child unleashed upon the playground. Direction and speed split its focus until it stilled long enough to move on to the next distraction. Dean parked on the street, letting the familiar siding and newer front door center him as he approached, trying to ignore the uneasiness that was unfurling in his gut. Sam was having lunch with some guys from high school who were in town early for Thanksgiving, granting Dean this window of privacy.

Not that Dean told Sam anything. He had done enough talking at Jo’s, even Benny didn’t know everything that he’d been processing the last few days. He hadn’t wanted to make any promises. Dean walked into the house, calling out his greeting, never one to knock at home. John was parked in front of the television in the living room while Mary sent her welcome from somewhere in the basement.

“Hey! Talk about timing, lunch is just about done,” John teased. “What brings you ‘round? Sammy’s out for the day.”

“Yeah, Dad, I know. Kinda why I came,” Dean shoved his hands in the pockets of jeans, still standing.

“Jayhawks are playing at two if you wanna stay,” John offered. Dean hummed in uncertainty. John dragged his feet from the ottoman to sit up and face Dean better. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, nothing we can’t talk about over lunch. I’m gonna go see if Mom needs anything,” Dean nodded towards the basement steps and left John to his football.

Dean bowed his head as he reached the bottom of the steps, clearing the duct work to find Mary folding laundry at the long narrow table they used for everything from school projects to writing out Christmas cards.

“I thought that was you,” Mary said pleasantly. “Did your dad tell you lunch was almost ready?”

She dropped the shirt she had finished atop an awkward pile and opened her arms for a hug. Dean scooped her up, probably a little too enthusiastically, but he didn’t care and she didn’t mind. A simple gasp told him she noticed though.

“So--- what’s the occasion?” Mary asked, turning back to the basket.

“Nothing really, just wanted to catch up,” Dean downplayed, grabbing a pair of jeans to help. Neither of them pointed out that they’d see each other the next day for Sunday dinner. Mary welcomed the visit as much as Dean was dreading it.

“Your father had physical therapy yesterday. I don’t think they get paid enough,” Mary conspired with a heavy side eye.

Dean chuckled, “I’m guessing not his at least.”

“And supposedly I’m the stubborn one,” Mary muttered. “If you want to make some sandwiches, I’m almost done down here. I don’t want to spread the soup too thin.”

Dean nodded and handed her the sweater he had folded last. “Sounds good, anything in particular?”

“Just don’t let him trick you into letting him have the salami, his doctor says he needs to watch the fats,” Mary warned.

Dean perched against the edge of the steps, listening. He slapped the banister and headed back upstairs. “On it.”

The kitchen’s layout hadn’t changed in thirty years and Dean quickly set up an assembly line with poultry, condiments, lettuce and tomatoes. He tucked the cheese with the processed deli meat back in the drawer, hiding the temptation from John. But not before stealing a slice for his and Mary’s sandwiches. He set the table, like hundreds of times before. John’s spot was the head of the table, Mary to his left. Dean set his own plate on John’s right, a seat he fought Sam for more often than not.

Dean stirred the pot, which was much more a vat, of chicken noodle soup. John’s approach was announced by the steady clink of his cane on the hardwood floor of the hallway. Dean pulled out John’s chair before settling down to his heaping sandwich and extra large bowl of soup.

John lifted the top tier of his sandwich, judging the contents. “She got to you, didn’t she?”

Dean just chewed purposely and gave John innocent eyes.

“Figures,” John muttered before bellowing through the house. “Mary! Soup’s ready.”

They ate comfortably, fighting the cold outside with the warmth of the familiarity of a shared meal. The grease from the chicken made bubbles in the broth and Dean blew across the surface mixing them back in. Meanwhile Mary made small talk and John teased her about her part time job.

“Well, I need to get out of the house, or we’d kill each other, you know that,” Mary flicked John’s ear as she cleared their bowls.

“How’s that going?” Dean asked, eyes fixed on his mother’s face. Panic clogged his ears at the thought of never seeing her again.

“‘S fine. People are picky, but it isn’t bad for what it is. Better than being behind a desk or answering the phone,” Mary explained of her work at the local sporting goods store. “Friday will be nuts, lots of sales, but it’s not like we would have been doing anything anyway.”

“So, Bobby and Ellen’s on Thursday?” Dean verified.

“Yup, dinner’s at 1. He says you’re on pie duty?” John asked, surprised.

“That I am. Sam’s stuck with sides, so please remind him. I don’t want to show up and only have rolls and turkey,” Dean asked Mary.

“Can do. We’re bringing the---,” Mary started.

“Cranberry sauce,” Dean and John said in unison.

“And the wine!” Mary said in dismay at their laughter. “Jerks.”

John and Dean grinned as Mary rolled her eyes.

“So, was that everything? It seemed like you had something to hash out with us,” John asked Dean, picking up the last of his sandwich.

“Yeah, mostly. I gotta check with Ellen first, but I might be bringing somebody along,” Dean rushed out. He tipped his bowl back, finishing the final dregs.

“A special someone?” Mary asked delicately, looking at John in hope.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Dean grunted, standing to grab another sandwich.

“Well, is it somebody we know?” Mary prodded, not trying to be too pushy, but obviously curious. “Dean, why are we just now hearing about this?”

Mary’s tone had shifted to apprehension, Dean felt their silent conversation behind his back as he slapped the ingredients together. He shrugged in response, unable to find a proper jumping off point.

He tried to remain casual, but the dred had clawed back up. Without enough wherewithal to speak, Dean sat back down and ate, drawing out his confession to the point of confusion.

John chuckled at Mary’s suspicion. “He’s nervous. Let the boy get it out.”

Dean rolled his eyes at the phrase. “I’m thirty six, Dad,” he said through a mouthful.

“Is that right? Coulda fooled me.” John tisked his tongue. Mary ignored his teasing tone.

“Dean, what’s the matter? What’s this girl’s problem that’s making you act so--- cagey all the sudden?” Mary asked anxiously. John slipped Mary’s hand into his, silently soothing her as they waited for Dean’s answer.

“Uh, yeah, about that,” Dean started, sitting back, and shooting for blase. “Turns out I actually like guys, too. So, uh, there’s no problem with a girl. I just wanted to bring, um, this guy I’ve been seeing, Benny, to Bobby and Ellen’s.”

Mary inhaled and clenched John’s hand. John stopped stroking Mary’s arm and twisted in his seat. Dean exhaled slowly, like a pin prick in a deflating balloon, he couldn’t take any of it back. Dean took a chance and looked out through his lashes, face tilted towards his plate. First to Mary’s blue worry and then a flicker to John’s almost black disbelief.

John swallowed and ducked low enough to force Dean’s eyes onto his. "You tellin' me you take it up the ass, is that what you're sayin?"

"Jesus. John!" Mary reproached. But neither man's glare faltered. The dark challenge in John's eyes caused Dean's lips to turn up in a silent snarl.

Dean finally broke the silence. "You really want me to answer that?"

"I think I have a right to know exactly the kind of man my son is," John countered.

Mary stood abruptly. “He's your son! What's the matter with you?! You asking Sam his jerkin' habits now that he's single, while you're at it?!" She went to the sink, bowing over it as if it would cleanse the images the conversation had conjured.

“Oh, hell, that’s not the point,” John muttered.

Dean had been arrested in high school for drag racing. The whole ride home from the police station he was worried what his dad was gonna do to him once they got home, it was the same quiet rage that had terrified Dean as a child. But it was Mary’s disappointment when they walked in the door that tore into Dean to the point of scarring. He could live with his father’s anger, Sam had taught Dean how to slowly stand up to John over the years.

But Dean didn’t know if he could live in the shadow of Mary’s disappointment. He needed somebody to see him as himself, not just a screw up or a queer.

Dean sighed. "I am your son. But if you can't handle this, Dad. I don't think you have any right to know me anymore." He looked from Mary to John as the last sentence left his mouth. Maybe he was asking too much after all.

Everyone in the room froze. But not even an ultimatum like that could stop John Winchester from digging himself deeper. "Christ, son, Jo really did a number on you, didn't she? Made you turn tail to the other team all together."

"Leave Jo out of this,” Dean spit out as he stood up. “This is about me and who I'm with now." He stalked the long way around the table, shoving chairs in as he went. He approached Mary alone, carefully, one terrified animal to another. "You'd love him, Mom. He cooks, runs his own business, even got an old Harley in the garage."

Mary couldn't hide her tears, but she tried to smile through them for Dean's sake. "Sounds like a catch, sweetie. But what matters is if you love him. You don't need our say so."

"Don't I?" Dean replied sadly before glancing over Mary’s shoulder to John. "You know Jo told me to give you the finger if you couldn’t see how happy I am. How important Benny is to me. And maybe she's right. But I wanted this to work. I wanted to keep the family together. That's why I'm here. The rest is up to you, Old Man."

Dean kissed his mother on the cheek, between murmured reassurances and left without another word to John. He teetered on the brink, somewhere between busting his knuckles against the cold glass of the impala’s window and losing his lunch on the frostbitten ground. Somehow, Dean made it into the solitude of the driver’s seat before he broke down and sobbed. The only saving grace he got was when his mother's voice roared from inside the house.

Dean dragged the salt and snot from his face with a heavy palm and started the engine. He couldn't stay there, but he didn't know where to go either. He just drove.

Dean pulled into the parking lot at The Pearly Gates on autopilot. He’d spent the afternoon equally suppressing and dissecting his conversation with his parents as he kept it even between the lines of two lane country roads. Now, Dean was ready to be somebody else, to make drinks and flirt and just forget everything that had happened.

The college football crowd was winding down, which allowed Dean some time to catch up with the day shift bartenders Garth and Jody. Back before Cas got blindsided with the responsibility of business ownership, Cas, Dean, Ash and Artie would claim a booth near the pool tables and blow their grocery money every weekend. When Sam moved back after law school he and Mick joined the crowd that were regularly praised for paying for Jody’s son’s braces.

Garth had been the first dragged from the friend pool to fill the schedule when Cas’s brother dropped off the face of the earth. Though Garth volunteered, Dean knew it was just out of the goodness of his heart, not a need for extra cash.

“Here he is!” Garth announced Dean’s arrival. Luckily for Dean, Garth was pouring a beer otherwise he would have been wrapped in one of Garth’s spider monkey-like hugs. A few regulars in the corner raised their glasses to Dean in greeting as he passed by with his company smile. Jody whipped by him, fresh out of the stock room with her arms full of their dollar bags of chips they sold to keep from having to run a full kitchen.

“Look who’s early,” Jody exclaimed before dropping the load onto the back counter. “You trying to cut into my time there, Winchester?”

“You know if you ever want more hours, you just gotta ask,” Dean offered suggestively, strolling behind the bar.

Jody sputtered dramatically, “And work nights? No, thank you.”

“It was worth a shot,” Dean replied, shrugging at Garth who knew better.

Jody sighed and cocked her head. “You’re cute, but you’re not that cute.”

Dean ducked his head against the compliment as she patted his arm apologetically.

“Want me to split your tips before you go?” Dean asked, bending out of his jacket.

“That’d be lovely,” Jody answered, sorting the chips by kind. “Garth get’s an extra twenty because Bess and Donna were ‘round.”

“Look at you, Mr. Slick,” Dean teased as he grabbed the old milk bottle filled with mostly singles. Garth blushed.

“You know what they say Dean-o, flattery is everything,” Garth explained. Dean, who routinely had the most tips out of any of the staff, including Bela, just nodded at the quirky dude. Dean doled out their shares and washed up before officially punching in.

Jody was gone as soon as Anna arrived, but Garth waited for Jack to show before leaving her and Dean on their own. It was seven o’clock before Cas arrived instead of his unreliable nephew.

“Everything alright?” Dean asked knowingly as Cas hung his trench coat on a broken notch on the rail beside the server’s station.

“Jack is under the weather,” Cas explained blandly. Dean eyed the windows, taking in the light flurries that danced in the streetlight. “I guess I’ll have to do tonight.”

It was a surprisingly unremarkable shift, the weather kept traffic bearable even after Anna’s shift ended at midnight. Dean walked her out the back to her car, like he always did as the plow eased out of the parking lot.

“You gonna be alright with him for the rest of the night?” Anna whispered before they breached the cold. Her big brown eyes held more mischief than worry.

“Goodnight, Anna,” Dean drew out as he held the door sternly.

“Night, Dean,” Anna chuckled. Dean watched her tiptoe around the icy patches and make it to her old Tahoe. He made sure it started before heading back behind the bar, and three more hours with Castiel.

The speakers were set lower than usual to balance their minimal customers. On his shifts, Dean had always insisted on having control over the musical selection. So when he walked into a pop singer’s version of mopey folk he did a double take before bee lining for the stereo.

“Please, don’t,” Cas’s simply requested from somewhere to Dean’s right. “I kind of like this song, but more importantly one of the customer’s requested a change of station.”

Dean eyed the patrons like suspects in a line up, uncertain who would blaspheme in such a way. No one seemed particularly guilty and he had to let it go. Between drinks, Dean washed glasses in the small sink behind the bar until Cas was finally able to start his nightly paperwork. The last couple paid their tab just after 1:30, leaving them holding their breaths in hope as they started to put up the chairs.

“Is it often this quiet?” Cas wondered aloud, “I don’t recall Saturday’s business to dwindle so.”

Dean smiled to himself; leave it to Cas to look a gift horse of a slow night in the mouth. “No, man, this is not the usual. But, it worked out. And thanks for filling in for the kid, I know you don’t like getting your hands dirty.”

Cas quietly beamed at Dean’s gratitude before pausing at the not so subtle jab at the end. They went through the remaining end of day routine in silence. Dean turned off the faux neon signs in the windows to signal the early close as Cas handled the money. Dean would usually even out the till and split tips with Jack, leaving the deposit for Cas to handle the next day. Instead he was left with cleaning detail as the boss man did the accounting.

Before long Dean was rolling the dirty mop bucket back to the office/store room/ kitchen/ employee area. Exhaustion had eaten at Dean’s internal walls, leaving him on the slippery edge between slap-happy and zombie. He hummed to keep his eyes open, waiting on Cas to finally call it a night and let Dean clock out.

“We don’t talk anymore,” Cas said abruptly, without looking up from the cash machine. Dean’s head shot up, concern furrowing his features. “In fact, I’m prone to think you don’t like me at all, Dean.”

“What do you mean, we’re talking right now,” Dean downplayed defensively. Cas glanced up over his desk, mild surprise evident. Cas always seemed such a mystery to Dean, from his social awkwardness to his blunt observations. Dean had come to envy Cas’s almost innocent lack of need to perform for others, to be anyone but himself. He had forgotten that Cas would read into his demeanor in the uncanniest of ways.

“True, we are. But are we?” Cas typed the code into the safe and waited for the time delayed entry. “We used to hang out, watch football, play pool, or cards even.”

“We’ve got bowling every week, man,” Dean wrung out the mophead and latched it onto the rack on the wall. He was trying to remember the last time he and Cas had fun, just the two of them and couldn’t recall a single occurrence over the past year.

“I miss you. I miss my friend,” Cas replied sadly. “And I don’t know what I did to ruin it, but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to.”

Dean closed his eyes and grimaced. “Hey, no, it’s not like that,” Dean started. He walked over and leaned against the edge of the desk, assertive reassurance written all over his face. “Look, I’m tired. Working all week and then coming here is kicking my ass. So I don’t have a lot of free time or brain capacity to hang out like we used to. But I’m doing my best, man.”

Cas looked like a confused puppy, eyes drooping and head tilted. “That isn’t it. There’s something else, something you’re not telling me?”

Dean huffed and shook his head, hands raised in exasperation. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I like you, okay? We’re still--- you know--- buddies.”

“Buddies,” Cas said it like it was a war crime.

“Yeah, man, friends. Do you need me to pull up a dictionary on my phone?!” Dean was getting anxious. He didn’t know what exactly had set Cas down this path of questioning, but he was certain he needed it to end. So much for a quiet night.

After a few weighted stares, Cas squinted and turned them down a different path. “Did me employing you negatively affect our relationship? Should I not have asked that of you?”

“Wait, that would have stopped you?” Dean asked, surprised by Cas’s sudden, if extremely late, realization.

“I wouldn’t knowingly do anything to hurt our friendship, Dean. Has working here hindered you?” Cas asked apologetically.

Dean’s mouth dropped open and his shoulders slumped. “Yeah, man. Working here--- everyone is great, don’t get me wrong--- but man I need a break. I wanted to help out here or there, but I’ve got no time for a life if I stay on.”

“I see,” Cas sat back, poorly masking his own discomfort with Dean’s confession. “Look, I know I’m not the best at what I do. But I find it very hard to trust new people. Employees, especially, tend to let me down. I guess--- I guess I’ve relied on you for too long, Dean. I’m sorry if I’ve taken advantage.”

Dean chuckled. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have minded if you had.”

Missing the joke, Cas continued, “I am taking this conversation as your verbal resignation. I hope you will stay on for the customary two weeks time?”

“You’re serious?” Dean asked, stunned.

“You’re unhappy. I don’t want to cause you anymore grief,” Cas replied simply.

“It wasn’t that bad, Cas.--- But, you gotta do something about Jack. Man up and light a fire under his ass, or just kick him to the curb until he’s ready to live up to the family business. You need to hire people who want to be here,” Dean offered.

Cas nodded dejectedly. “I know, I just have an awful gauge for people’s reliability from a simple interview. And past employers rarely ‘spill the tea’ as Bela would say.”

Dean giggled, but stopped himself once he saw the worry in Cas’ eyes. “Hey, what if somebody does the interviews for you? I bet Jody would weed out the bad seeds before their asses ever hit the bar stool.”

Cas was surprised by that option. “That could work. She is very intimidating.”

“Right?!” Dean exclaimed, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. “So, we’re really doing this? Two weeks and I’m out?”

“Yes, Dean. You’ve done more than I should have asked of you.” Cas stood and extended his hand.

Dean grabbed it and pulled Cas in for a hug, their bound hands stuck between them. “Thanks, man. But, I’m glad it worked out. It will work out. This is gonna be good.”

“And we’ll---,” Cas asked as they broke apart.

“We’ll still be friends. Hell, if I’m free maybe we can reclaim our old table every once in a while,” Dean offered, patting Cas’s shoulder. A genuine smile crept across Dean’s face for the first time all day.

“I’d like that,” Cas admitted as the safe alerted his time was up.

The next morning, Sam held the door for Dean who was smirking as they walked in. Exhausted and needing the comfort of his favorite diner to fill his empty stomach, Dean agreed to Sunday breakfast with a seemingly none-the-wiser Sam, certain he'd be missing their weekly dinner with his parents for possibly the first time.

"Not that one. Let's see if there's a spot in the back," Sam muttered as Dean tried sitting in the first open booth he saw.

"What? Why?" Dean groaned, but straightened up and followed Sam passed the bustling counter.

Sam lifted his chin and motioned Dean to the second to last spot. Slightly annoyed, Dean threw himself onto the bench seat, only to have Sam slide beside him, caging him in.

"Glad you boys could make it," the all too familiar drawl of their father's voice greeted them from across the table.

Dean looked at Sam and cursed beneath his breath. Sam had the nerve to look guilty, but his puppy dog eyes didn't hold an ounce of potency now.

"Wow, Dad, I had no idea you'd be here. Funny coincidence, hey, Sammy?" Dean snarked.

"Shut up," Sam grumbled.

"I made him drag you here, Dean. So if you wanna be pissed, be pissed at me," John began. "I ordered your usuals, to give us some privacy. It seems we need to talk."

Tagging: @flamencodiva @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @fookinghelljensensthighs @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988 @mrswhozeewhatsis @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007 @tumbler-tidbits @wingedcatninja @defenderrosetyler @ericaprice2008 @crashdevlin @mylovelydame21 @cajunquandary @itmighthavebeenintentional @thoughtslikeaminefield @there-must-be-a-lock @tatted-trina6 @cracksinthewalls @atc74

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#A Gentlemen's Agreement #bi!dean #dean winchester fanficiton #dean/benny #dean x benny #coming out #john and mary #aga: spit it out #spn fanfic #spn au #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural au

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marvel-and-mischief · 4 years

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His Saving Grace Part VII

Title: His Saving Grace - Maxwell Lord x F!Reader Words: 3600 Warnings: conversation about feelings, reader talks about her dark thoughts in the past, kissing, detailed description of a panic attack Synopsis: You meet with Diana to discuss Maxwell’s options.

His Saving Grace Masterpost

The Smithsonian looked a lot different in the day, the imposing building loomed over you as you walked up the front steps. You knew it wasn’t the museum that was making you nervous, but the job you had to do and the woman you had to meet.

Maybe you should have ran the idea by Maxwell first, but a part of you knew he would be hesitant. After what you had seen on the night of the gala, Maxwell had been uncomfortable in Diana’s presence, and Diana was confrontational when she walked over to him. They obviously weren’t friends.

But it was literally your job to get Maxwell back into the workplace, and if this didn’t work, and you didn’t manage to convince him that it was the ideal solution, then you didn’t know what you were going to do.

You asked for Diana Prince at the information desk and was told by the man at the desk where she worked, pointing in the general direction of a staircase (you think) before answering a ringing telephone and dismissing you.

Trying to find your way to the Anthropology Department without a helpful staff member, or a map, was confusing and you ended up walking back on yourself more than a few times but you got to Diana’s office eventually.

You were about to knock when the door flung open, Diana pausing just before bumping into you, a look of confusion on her face as she tried to remember where she’d seen you before.

“Diana isn’t it? I’m Maxwell’s friend, we met at the gala,” you said casually and stuck out your hand towards her, reminding her of your name. She took it after a moment, shaking your hand and politely laughing. If she was wary of you being at her place of work she didn’t let on, instead she ushered you into her office and offered you a cold coffee which you gladly took.

“Look, I don’t know what Maxwell has told you but as long as he stays out of trouble, he will never hear from me again.”

Diana sat on one end of a velvety soft, maroon loveseat and you took a seat on the other end.

“Actually, I’m hoping that won’t be true,” you began, cradling your cold coffee on your lap, “you must have some idea that Maxwell is struggling. Black Gold is bust and it will never recover. No one will hire Maxwell Lord, for obvious reasons.”

“I don’t see how I can help him. I sympathise, but Maxwell is reaping the repercussions of what he sowed. You can understand why no one wants to help him,” Diana spoke to you gently, offering you a sympathetic smile.

You sighed as you looked around her office, a poster of human evolution, an old wind instrument that reminded you of the recorder you were taught to play at school, a long piece of parchment paper with what you could only guess were hieroglyphics or something similar. And on the wall next to where you sat was a diagram of a stone of some sort.

“Maxwell got his stone from here, right?”

Diana nodded but said no more.

“A Dreamstone?”

“Whatever Maxwell has told you, it needs to stay a secret.”

“Diana, the whole world saw him use it.”

“The world saw a madman,” at your look of offence Diana shook her head, “I’m telling you what everybody saw, not who he actually is. And that is my point.”

You weren’t going to get into an argument with Diana about the Maxwell you knew, not right now anyway, so you bit your tongue.

“But he has ties to this place.”

Diana thought for a moment, starting to understand that you weren’t going to give up easily. She slowly nodded, eyeing you curiously and weighed up how much she should say about what had gone down with Maxwell and the Dreamstone.

“Maxwell only has ties to the Smithsonian because he wanted the stone. He befriended a gemologist, Barbara Minerva, to get to it. He succeeded and then he became the stone. And I presume you know the rest.”

It took you a second to realise that Diana had said “he became the stone” but you filed it to the back of your mind for another time. Or maybe you would never bring it up. If you wanted Maxwell to get passed this part of his life, you would have to stop asking questions eventually.

“So let me get this straight, because he was the Maxwell Lord he could just walk into this place and take what he wanted?”

“Well, he was very persuasive. Plus he gave a lot of money to the department as a bribe.”

“So he’s given money to the museum before?” The cogs were starting to turn in your head as you realised it could work in Maxwell’s favor if he’s already shown support for the Smithsonian.

Diana tilted her head as she watched you, trying to work out what you were planning. She was clever enough to realise almost instantly.

“You can’t seriously be suggesting that Maxwell work here?”

“I am! He’s already proven his loyalty to the museum through a donation I assume was considerable. I’m sure it helped the museum a lot.”

Diana hesitantly nodded, knowing the money was much larger than any benefactor had given to the museum in years. She sighed in frustration and stood, walking over to her desk to rifle through a pile of papers. You placed your forgotten coffee on the table and followed.

“I know he can’t work in any of these departments. But he has a business degree, he’s got the experience. He’s someone the museum would jump at the chance to have work here.”

Diana laughed cynically.

“You said yourself, nobody will hire him, what makes you think we will?”

“I said no one will hire Maxwell Lord. But what about Maxwell Lorenzano?”

Diana looked up from her papers and gave you a quizzical look.

“He wants a fresh start and I think I can persuade him to leave the Lord name behind.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, wondering if you were overstepping. Maxwell had said to you at the diner that he wanted to be more like his old self, maybe this was the way forward?

It wasn’t unlike you, as a lawyer, to be persuasive to get the results you wanted, the results you thought were best for your clients. But Maxwell wasn’t a client, not in your heart. He was your friend, and hopefully more in the future. Were you being too pushy, putting out the idea of him changing back to his birth name? Even though he’d suggested that very thing to you at the diner?

You were starting to realise why it was frowned upon to begin relationships with clients, it made everything so complicated, it had you second guessing everything you were saying and doing whilst working for them. Because it wasn’t about getting results for the pay check at the end of the job, it was about getting results for the man you loved. It was about wanting the best for him, wanting him to be pleased with you and everything you were doing for him.

“Are you okay?” Diana’s voice jolted you out of your spiralling thoughts and had you laughing awkwardly.

“I’m fine,” your smile didn’t quite meet your eyes, but you cleared your throat as you pointed to the papers she was looking through, silently asking her to explain.

“There was a list of job vacancies the boss sent around to everybody on Friday, it was here somewhere… a-ha!” Diana produced the single piece of paper with titles and one-sentence job descriptions on it.

“Is there anything appropriate for Maxwell?” You asked hopefully, going on tip toes to try and peep over the paper. Diana shook her head as she read down the page, coming to a stop right at the bottom.

“Although…”

“What is it?” You asked, a little too forcefully. Too impatient to wait a moment longer you snatched the piece of paper from Diana’s fingers and skimmed through the titles until you saw the very last one.

“Do you think-“

“It’s perfect,” you shot Diana a beaming smile, “will you-“

“I’ll let the boss know I have the perfect guy for the job.”

Maxwell nervously shuffled from foot to foot outside your apartment door, holding a bouquet of wildflowers in his hands, similar to the ones you wore on your dress the night of the gala. His polo shirt felt too tight on him all of a sudden, and he wasn’t sure if he should button all four buttons or leave it at two.

The issue wasn’t that he had never been to your apartment before, or even that he was visiting unannounced, but entering into a new relationship. With you.

He loved you. He realised that at the gala when he watched you charming potential clients, giving away business cards until you had ran out of them, it had filled him with such a sense of pride that you had walked in on his arm. It wasn’t a slow realisation either. It was when he was seeing people notice you, laugh with you, agree with your advice, and then he thought yes, see this brilliant woman who can make your dreams come true? I love her.

It didn’t scare Maxwell, quite the opposite. He was excited. Because you both worked so well together already. It was all so natural, the way you joked with him over lunch, or grabbed his hand in the middle of conversation. And the kissing.

Maxwell hadn’t kissed anyone the way he’d kissed you in… forever. It was a kiss that lit a burning flame in his heart, warm in every way but persistent and wouldn’t burn out until you reignited it with another. He felt the ghost of your lips on his, even in his dreams and he would wake up with a smile on his face, ready to start the new day in the hopes that he would see you soon.

He felt young again, in a wide eyed, fresh faced kind of way. Like the world was his for the taking because he had you by his side to keep him grounded but also an encouraging voice in his ear telling him he could do anything if he just believed in himself.

Maxwell wished he’d met you so much sooner. Before the seed of the Dreamstone had been planted in his mind and he’d gone on his reign of self destruction. He thinks you would have been able to stop him, to persuade him that he had everything he needed already. You could have helped him through the financial difficulties of Black Gold. You would have saved him.

Maxwell shook his head of that thought and readjusted his collar. He couldn’t change the past. He could only look to the future.

He knocked on the door, realising he probably should have called before coming over. You might be working, or have friends over, or not be in at all-

The door flew open and you appeared, holding a wooden spoon in your hand and wearing an apron tied at the front covered in what looked and smelled like cocoa powder.

“Maxwell? What’re you doing here?” You asked, surprised to see him at your door.

“I should have called ahead, I apologise-“

“Don’t be silly. How many times have I come over to yours without warning? Come in,” you pointed towards the living room with your spoon and closed the door behind you.

Maxwell let you lead him into the open plan area. It was smaller than Maxwell’s apartment but the layout was almost the same. The furnishings however were trying to be less impressive, more rustic with dark, wooden furniture instead of brightly colored plastic. It was comfortable and had a homely feel to it that Maxwell didn’t realise he liked until now. There were papers strewn across the coffee table, bookshelves actually filled with books unlike his own, dozens of blankets laid across the top of the couch, coffee stains on side tables. It was a perfect mix of your head and your heart. Smart and kind. Hard working but also relaxed.

You went into the kitchen area, pulling open the oven and the smell of freshly baked chocolate cookies filled the air. Maxwell’s stomach rumbled but luckily you were too busy to hear. It was then that Maxwell remembered the flowers in his hand.

“I brought you flowers,” Maxwell placed them on top of the island, perching on a stool.

“Thank you, that’s very sweet,” you picked them up and went searching for a vase in the cupboards. You found a decanter with a thick neck and decided that would be sufficient, filling it with water from the tap and placing the flowers inside to display on the countertop.

“I wanted to talk to you about some things,” Maxwell cleared his throat and interlocked his hands together on top of the island, “about my future.”

“Yes,” you nodded, taking a seat on a stool opposite Maxwell, “I think I have a plan, the next step, maybe even permanently if you agree to it.”

“Can we talk about us first?”

You froze in your spot, ready with your speech that would sell your plan to him, but you could see he had come over for a reason and decided to let him talk first.

“I said I wanted to take things slow, and I still do. But I need things to be clear, out in the open so you know where I stand,” as much as Maxwell was nervous he kept eye contact with you, “I love you. I’m falling in love with you. These last couple of months have opened my eyes to how lonely and alone I am. And I’m not using that as an excuse for what I did but if I am going to succeed in being a good father, a good man, then I need you by my side. I think the world of you and everything you’ve done for me and I promise to try and make it up to you in any way I can.”

Your smile grew the more Maxwell talked, hearing everything you’d hoped he would say. You were on the same page, wanted the same things. Maxwell patiently waited for you to respond, even though the butterflies in his stomach were threatening to painfully burst out of him.

“Maxwell Lorenzano, I love you too.” You laughed, tears welling in your eyes, your chest full of happiness that things were looking up for the both of you.

You wiped at your eyes with the bottom of the apron you were still wearing, then placed both your hands over the top of his.

“You say I’ve helped you but you have no idea how much you’ve helped me too. I was at the bottom of a very dark pit of self hatred before I met you. And although I was getting better, I don’t know what would have happened in my life if you hadn’t called me that day. I’m not sure if I believe in fate or destiny or anything like that but I believe we met each other at the perfect moment so we could help each other through the worst time of our lives. And if we can pull each other out of that then we can do anything together.”

Maxwell’s watery smile grew as he stood from his stool and walked around the island to stand next to you. He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss to the top of your head, before placing another on the tip of your nose that had you giggling. You stood and used the sudden closeness to press a bold kiss to his lips, hands running through his hair as his hands came to naturally place themselves in the dip of your waist.

Maxwell pulled away to place small kisses to the corner of your mouth, tasting the remnants of the chocolate mixture you must have tasted whilst baking your cookies. When he got to your jaw he felt your hands on his shoulders gently pushing him away, an apologetic look in your eyes.

“I still need to talk to you about the plan I’ve put together.”

Maxwell groaned, keeping a hold of your waist as he playfully tickled the soft skin of your neck with his nose.

“Maxwell…” you chuckled, enjoying this playful side of Maxwell.

“You’re ruining the fun,” Maxwell removed his head from your neck and pouted. You tried to take him seriously but he looked like a grumpy child who had been told ‘no more sweets’. You kissed him sweetly on the cheek and motioned towards the couch in the living room.

His sigh was overly exaggerated as he took a seat on the couch. You had taken off your apron in the kitchen and sat next to Maxwell with a yellow sweater on, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. In amongst the rustic aesthetic of the living room, you looked like actual sunshine to Maxwell.

“I tried to find you a job that I thought you’d like, that wouldn’t necessarily be easy but would use your previous skills and still challenge you.”

You took a piece of paper from the side table and handed it to Maxwell. It detailed a job description, the kinds of jobs he’d be taking on and with what departments, and the key skills he would be using. Maxwell nodded the whole way through until he spotted where he would be working.

“The Smithsonian?” He asked, unsure and a little take aback that this would be the place you’d choose considering his connections to the place.

“Yes, it was much easier to find you a job at a place you’d already given a sizeable donation to,” you explained gently, you ran your fingernails along the lines in the palm of your hand, a nervous habit as you tried to gauge Maxwell’s reaction.

“I don’t know,” Maxwell re-read over the job description, which he was comfortable with, the annual salary that was more than enough to look after himself and Alistair, the job title ‘Financial Manager’ was more than suitable for his qualifications, everything was perfect, except the place of work. He would run into Diana probably, and was Barbara still working there? That would be awkward. That place held bad memories, Maxwell was trying to move away from his past not shoot head first towards it.

“Look, you would mostly be working in the offices away from other departments, Diana said-“

“You spoke to Diana?” Of course you had, how would this job be practically given to him without so much as an interview without Diana’s help? Maxwell eyed you suspiciously, wondering how much she’d told you about the incident, how much you’d told her about Maxwell’s situation. He trusted you, he loved you, there was no love without trust but he suddenly felt like the walls of your apartment were closing in on him and the piece of paper in his hand was shaking as though an earthquake was ripping through the building.

“Maxwell?” He heard your voice but it was so far away, where had you gone? It was like listening to someone shouting from the other end of a tunnel, had you left him? Maxwell’s eyes were closed tightly shut so he couldn’t see where you’d gone but he felt something soft and warm on either side of his face, and then his face was being pressed into something fluffy, it felt like how your sweater looked, was it you?

Your voice was getting clearer and his breathing was slowing down though he didn’t remember breathing so fast, why was he struggling to breathe?

Your hands, he could feel them now, moving over his shoulders, along his back, up and down his upper arms and the fog was slowly lifting from his mind, from his lungs, and there were tears falling from his eyes. And all he could hear were your apologies and his name leaving your lips. Your sweet lips that felt so good against his own, they were touching his ear as you spoke soothing words, he concentrated on that and then everything was clear.

He cautiously pulled away from you, just enough to see you looking at him full of concern. Maxwell placed his large hand against your cheek and guided you to press your foreheads together as he continued to breathe through the panic attack.

“I’m so sorry Maxwell,” you whispered but Maxwell shushed you softly, stroking your cheek, your hair, your neck until he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you into a hug.

“You are perfect and have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, holding you close until he believed you were truly there and not a hallucination created out of his panic stricken mind, “it just all suddenly felt very real. I think I’m scared.”

He felt you nod against his chest, your hand was running up and down his side, soothing him, comforting him in any way that you could. You were nearly lying on top of him; Maxwell had leaned you both backwards, his head resting on the corner of the couch as he tried to relax and prevent another panic attack.

“I’m here. You don’t have to do any of this on your own. Or at all, I’ll call Diana and tell her the job isn’t suited to you. We’ll find something else.”

“No,” that made you look up from his chest, searching his eyes for what he meant, “it’s the kind of job I’d be good at. I just have to remember that I’m not alone.”

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, holding each other close, but by the time you tried the cookies they were cold.

Permanent tag list: @autumnleaves1991-blog @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @galactic-rhi @phoenixhalliwell @thewayofthemandalorian @computeringturtle @lesbianlena @shikin83

#His Saving Grace #Maxwell Lord #Maxwell Lord fic #Maxwell Lord x Reader #WW1984 #Wonder Woman 1984 #Pedro Pascal

57 notes · View notes

atsukashii · 4 years

Text

❝devils advocate❞ // k. bakugou

SYNOPSIS: ➛ In a world of guardian angels, somehow, you got stuck with a guardian demon who is too hot for his own good.

» CHARACTER PAIRING: demon!Katsuki Bakugou x human!reader

» WORD COUNT: 5.1K

» GENRE: demon x human au, guardian demon au

» WARNINGS: 16+; mentions of death (non-character related), blood, swearing & fluff

« masterlist || ao3 »

Everyone on earth had a guardian angel. Guardian angels watched out for you, protecting you until it was eventually your time to pass on. You couldn’t see them, but you would meet them twice within your life. First, when you were born - a memory that would always remain as if had been engraved into your soul, and then again when you died. There had never been a recorded case of someone not having a guardian angel, until you. Your parents had taken you to a doctor once they had become aware of it, thinking something was very wrong. However, the doctor quickly deduced that you were either lying or just simply didn’t remember. Because everyone had one, but somehow you didn’t have one.

You were nine years old when Katuki Bakugou saved your life.

You had been walking home from a dinner reservation with your parents, full-bellied, and full of smiles when the unthinkable happened. What was a shadow on the wall, emerged a man who struck down your parents with only a few swift blows. Knocked to the ground, you stared at the puddle of blood slowly making its way towards you, then to the crimson liquid that splattered from the killer’s brutal swing of his blade. It was on your hands, your clothes, everywhere. You don’t remember much of what he had said back then, but you remembered the way the moonlight glinted off his silver blade, as he rose it over his head - his intention to make you his next victim, only for him to never have the chance to even bring the weapon down. The killer just...evaporated into a bloody mist. You remembered how the air around you seemed to tense, the smell of electricity entering your nose as you looked upon this new stranger who had appeared from literally nowhere and had saved your life.

You didn’t know much about guardian angels but you knew they were meant to have wings of white feathers. This...thing didn’t. Instead, his wings were jet black, dark membrane that resembled the wings of a bat, but with razor-sharp a looking talon’s on the top of each wing. They were utter terrifying.

He stared at you for a moment and just watched, his red eyes glowing in the dark alley. Dressed from head to toe in black, it was a stark contrast to his ash blonde hair, but it was his eyes - that crimson gaze that once turned on you, your body had trembled in fear. He had walked towards you, so menacingly that you had scrambled away until your back met the wall of the alleyway.

“P-please, don’t kill me. I’m sorry, p-p-please…” you had cried and begged, your voice weak and quiet. You were just a kid and maybe that was why he had spared you that day. Instead of misting you like he had the other guy. Your eyes moved from him to your parents, still on the floor of the alleyway and you couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face. A cold hand met your face, turning your head from the sight and made your eyes meet his crimson gaze. His eyes glowed in the darkness whilst also seeming to suck you in as he searched for something. Letting out a scoff at whatever it was he found, he dropped his hand from your face and glared at you.

“No guardian huh?” Your heart stopped inside your chest for the millionth time that night. How had he known? “Listen up kid, from now on you’re under my protection. Nothings going to happen to you. Now get the fuck up,” And so far, he had been true to his word.

Katsuki Bakugou wasn’t an angel, he was a demon. Something you hadn’t realised was real until that day, but if guardian angels were, it made sense that they were too. And for some reason, Katsuki had made it his mission to be your guardian...of sorts. He seemed to step into your life whenever he chose and took advantage of the fact that no one else could see him or hear him, a lot. He was a sarcastic asshole ninety percent of the time, and the other ten percent was when he went lethal and became death incarnate. He revelled in the fact that he was a major pain in the ass and liked to be the vaguest creature on the planet, dodging all your questions about him and demons in general. But over time, you’d gotten somewhat used to it. When you were younger, he was around sparingly, but once you had moved out of your grandparent’s house and into a boarding school, his appearances became more frequent, until he was spending almost every day with you. You both loved it and hated it. He could be nice, but it was rare, and instead had decided to hang around frequently purely to annoy the crap out of you. He would spend a lot of time just hanging out with you in your dorm room doing incredibly mundane things, and acting like he despised every second of it and had better things to do - yet never actually made a move to leave.

And today was no different. You are supposed to be doing your homework as you’ve got exams soon and should really be paying attention as you’re in your final year of high school. Graduation was so close you can almost taste it, and then you wouldn’t have to see anyone from this pompous and obnoxious school ever again. But the weather outside was dreary and the rain and could cover had motivated you not to do school work, but instead to get out your notebook and draw. So you sit at your desk, music playing from your phone, softly flowing through the room as you for the millionth time, trace a familiar shaped eye. You weren’t sure when you had first started drawing Katsuki, but whenever you sat down with something in your hand, purposely to draw - he tended to be the first thing that came out. A familiar scent of a thunderstorm floods the room and you feel yourself relax in your chair as loud swearing breaks the peaceful quiet.

“Hey idiot, clean up your damn room. You can barely see the fucking floor!” Looking over your shoulder to the blonde, you drop your eyes to the small pile of washing on the floor and roll your eyes. So dramatic. You ignore the remark and turn back to your drawing, not caring if he sees what you’re doing - he was already past the point of teasing you and now just critiques your work. “I ain’t fucking ugly!’ was his favourite retort about your drawings. You hear Katsuki walk over towards you, looking over your shoulder to the sketchbook on your desk, and then shifting to the unfinished homework in the corner. He scoffs at your antics, but can’t be surprised as you handing in uncompleted homework is a common thing at this school. You weren’t exactly the star pupil.

“Do your fucking homework y/n.” he badgers you. He constantly nags you over the most trivial things, like making sure you’re eating, getting out of bed on days when you just want to sleep through the whole day. For someone who can strike the fear of death into the hearts of grown-ass men, he sure acts like a mother hen a lot of the time.

“It’s just math stuff… I’ll do it later. And besides, my teacher has it out for me I swear.” You defend, but he just scoffs like he doesn’t believe you and sits on the edge of your bed. It’s then that you notice the plastic bag in his hands. Raising your eyebrows, spin your chair towards him, and hold out your hands.

“What did you get this time?” You ask, giddy at the surprise dinner that happens most nights because you don’t want to face your classmates in the communal kitchen.

“Wouldn’t you like to know. You ain’t getting any idiot until you fucking start your homework.” Katsuki growls, pulling a plastic bowl from the bag and the smell of Italian food makes your stomach rumble. You glare at the blonde, knowing well how this is going to play out.

“You would deny me sustenance that I need to make my brain work out of pure spite?” You ask. The demon’s eyes swirl with amusement and you know that you’re winning.

“Don’t you use that fucking pity card with me.” He says, standing up to his full height and placing the bowl on your desk. “Eat, then do your fucking work idiot,” Katsuki grumbles, giving in easily before falling back onto your bed and opening his own food. You grab the plastic utensils and practically dive into the ravioli. The creamy flavour bursting on your tongue if so rich you groan.

“Where did you get this?” You ask, and the look Katsuki gives you - you can basically hear his response in your own mind. Where do you think I got it, idiot? With his ability to slip into shadows, your guardian demon also has a knack for travelling to other sides of the world in seconds, just for food. You have knickknacks from around the world in your dorm room from when he travels and you convince him to buy you something small. He’s got a dark sense of humour, so a lot of the things can be kinda creepy or just plain stupid, but you don’t mind. The fact that he brings you something is enough. You had a feeling he had once again, slipped into shadows and gotten tonight's dinner freshly from the homeland of pasta, and you wonder if he somehow knew you were craving Italian food. You both eat in silence before something on your desk catches Katsuki’s eye, and he can’t help but open his mouth.

“What the hell is that?” you follow his gaze to the partially scrunched up flyer sitting on top of your school books and sigh.

“A flyer for the school dance on Friday.” You say, shoving ravioli into your mouth so you don’t have to keep talking about it. You don’t really have a lot of friends, its a fact that you’re not embarrassed about. It was just the fact that you didn’t have a guardian angel had gotten you teased when you were younger, and add on top of that what happened to your parents - people thought you were bad luck and tended to stay far from you. But today, something had changed.

“And you’re going to go to that fuck fest?” Your food gets caught in your throat and you momentarily choke from his words. He has no filter. Your eyes water as you drink from your water bottle, you look at Katsuki whos watching you with his regular frown. Not even concerned in the slightest that you were just choking.

“No, I don’t think so…” You manage to get out, putting the lid back on your now-empty food bowl and pushing it to the corner of your desk. You can feel his glare at the back of your head as you hesitate to grab your books, but like usual, the demon wins and you grab your homework. You don’t have to look at him to know that he’s smirking at you. Him and his stupid smug face. Opening your books, you let out a sigh at the work. Katsuki has an unnerving ability to see straight through you, so you’re not surprised when he suddenly snaps at you.

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘i don’t think so’?” he growls and you just shrug.

“I was asked.” You suddenly blurt out, your cheeks pink as you recall the awkward conversation earlier that day between you and a guy in your class. Because you didn’t really have a lot of friends at school, when you were asked by one of the most attractive guys in your grade, to say you were surprised was an understatement.

The demon just blinks at you, shock actually evident on his face, which is a first. He hides a lot of his emotions from you, basically everything other than anger and annoyance, and somewhat amusement.

“Someone asked you?” Katsuki grumbles, and something in his tone annoys you. He says it as if the thought of someone asking you was so unthinkable, and that hurt. Turning towards him, you give him a proper glare that has him stilling - not out fear because you’re you, and he is a demon - but just interest. He knows he’s annoyed you, it’s something he does a lot - but this time he’s properly pissed you off.

“Is that so hard to imagine?” you snarl at the blonde. If he’s taken back by your pissed off tone, he doesn’t let it show.

“Didn’t mean it like that idiot. I only meant that you don’t really hang out with a lot of people.” He was digging himself a deeper hole. “And why the fuck would you want to go anyways? I don’t.”

“That’s because you’re a demon and ‘mundane shit is beneath you,’” you quote the words he has used against you multiple times before. You don’t give him a chance to respond before you go off again. “And I want to go because I feel like I’m missing out on some big thing in the whole ‘high school experience’ if I don’t. I didn’t get the stereotypical school adventure that other people seem to get. I didn’t go to parties or sports events. So I’m going to this dance because someone asked me, and if you’ve got a problem with that you can leave.” You’re breathing hard when you finish, glaring with everything in you at him. He simply scoffs at you and gets up from your bed.

“Whatever. Go to the fucking dance, I’ve got shit to do.” for a moment your heart lurches in your chest as he moves away from you and towards the door as if he’s actually going to use it. The thought of him leaving always makes you feel uneasy for reasons you can’t really explain, maybe you’ve just got some weird separation anxiety from him seeing as he’s always around.

“Katsuki-” His eyes are on yours as he steps into a shadow and then he’s gone. You let out a sigh and turn back to your desk, looking at your drawing book still open, his eyes in monochrome staring back at you. You close the book harshly and lean back on your chair.

Why is he such an asshole?

❀ ❀ ❀

Friday comes around quickly but doesn’t go the way you were expecting it to. The dance begins at seven, yet here you are at half-past, sitting on your bed. You’d scrambled to find a dress and even put on makeup, and it was all for fucking nothing. Because you have been stood up. The whole thing was a damned joke, he never wanted to take you. You’re eyes sting and you quickly sniff - no I will not let this mediocre, insignificant guy ruin my damn makeup! you coach yourself, trying not to let it hurt as much as it does. You reach up to rub your nose until suddenly, striding out of nowhere like he owns the place, Katsuki appears in your room. You hadn’t seen him since he walked out on you two days ago. At first, you were pissed because you were his friend and he was being petty. But then, you’d missed him, a lot. You’d missed him lecturing you on your untidy room, you’d missed him when you had to walk to the food court for dinner, you had missed his smug face when he would catch you looking at him when you were reading and he was sitting doing god knows what. You had just missed his presence a lot, and that made you realise that you really liked this demon that had come into your life in the worst of times, yet somehow made it a whole lot better.

You’re about to question what the heck he’s doing here when he stops in his spot and looks over you. The red dress a now waste of money, along with the heels on your feet. It was all for nothing. “Aren’t you supposed to be at some dance right now?” He asks, his voice low and dangerous as he slowly puts things together. He probably already knows what’s happened just by looking at you, he’s too intelligent not to.

“I got stood up.” You explain embarrassed. You should have listened to Katsuki when he said it was a bad idea. Something deadly flickers to life in his vermilion gaze, and he suddenly spins, stalking for the door with a lithe swiftness that you know means he’s about to go and cause someone grievous bodily harm. Nope nope nope, that’s not happening. “It’s fine, Katsuki. Really.” Your words make him stop in his spot, and he turns half towards you, searching your face. “It was stupid to want to go anyways. You were right, it was a waste.”

“No it’s fucking not.” He hisses, pure rage radiating off him pulses. Closing his eyes, he lets out a sharp breath where you could have sworn you actually saw steam come from his nose. But then he looks you over once more, taking in the rare appearance of you in a dress. Thinking back on it, there’s a high chance that he’s never seen you in one, as you normally opt for shorts or jeans.

“Fuck this.” Katsuki sighs. He snaps his fingers and in the blink of an eye, his jeans and tee shirt are swapped for slacks and a button-up. Still pitch black in classic Katsuki fashion and his hair is still a mess but he’s dressed up and you can’t help but admit that he looks really handsome. You stare at him, processing the action for a moment. He looks so different. His wings are gone, you didn’t even know he could do that, heck you didn’t know he could snap his fingers and bam! If you didn��t already know he was a demon and you wanted to die, you’d tease him about how fairy-like that was. But again, you value your life.

It’s odd though, to see him without his wings. He almost looks like a regular person, but there is something about him, that makes him look like something more than human. Maybe it’s the sharp jaw or the piercing eyes, you weren’t sure - but there’s something other-worldly that he couldn’t seem to contain.

“Get off your ass.” His voice interrupts your thoughts, and you stare at him as he stands with his hand on the door handle holding it open. Shifting your gaze between the open doorway and him, you glance up at his face and at his serious expression. He’s not joking, he’s going to the dance. For you, with you, so you can go and won’t be alone.

You can’t contain your smile as you stand up and practically skip to the doorway. Happiness bubbling inside you and you want to grin, but for his sake, you calm it down and settle on a small smile. He rolls his eyes and offers you his arm. He’s full of surprises tonight, you think as you take it.

He doesn’t make a single grumble or comment as you head to the school gymnasium, and you hold your tongue as he hands the person at the door two tickets. How the hell did he even get those? The student collecting tickets eyes you both as you walk inside. It’s so cringe and everything you pictured it would be, and you can’t help but grin. Streamers dangle from the roof, white table cloths and balloons cover the tables, dim lighting and somewhat loud music - its perfect. You look to Katsuki who is eyeing your smile with raised eyebrows. I can’t believe you like this shit, he seems to say, but from the small smile on his face you know he’s amused by you.

“Come on idiot, let’s go.” As you walk through the throngs of people towards a table, you feel their eyes sticking to you like glue, shocked to see you here. And it’s then that you realise that other people can see him - you didn’t even know that was possible.

“I didn’t know you could make yourself be seen by people.” You mutter to him. Katsuki scoffs at you and gives you his typical ‘you’re an idiot’ expression.

“Of course I can, how the fuck do you think I saved your life dumbass?” He says, mentioning when you had first met and he… Okay, that makes sense. But he’s never done this before, he’s never let himself be seen by other people, he’s never changed his appearance like this either… You come to the realisation just how big of a deal this is for him, and you squeeze his arm in thanks. He flexes his arm under your touch and you know that’s his version of telling you it wasn’t a big deal.

You two spend the rest of the night laughing as Katsuki rips into other people and making up random crap about them just to make you laugh. His attempt to cheer you up isn’t missed by you, and you’re so grateful that he’s trying. People glance at you both every so often, wondering just who he is, but no one has approached to ask - however, that’s most likely due to the vicious glare that Katsuki drills into anyone that comes too close to your table. But you’re thankful for the fact that its just the two of you.

The music switches to something slow and you can’t help but eye the people coupling off in the middle of the gymnasium floor. Looking quickly at Katsuki who looks too good to be true in the blue lighting, you suck in a breath and prepare yourself. Ignoring the sudden nervous rollercoaster-worthy butterflies springing to life in your stomach, you stand from your chair and shove your hand towards your guardian demon.

“Dance with me.” You try to say with confidence. Katsuki’s lips tick up ever so slightly at your lame attempt of assurance.

“I ain’t dancing with you, idiot.” He says, leaning back in his chair and pretending to get comfortable. Maybe if you didn’t know him any better you would have thought he was serious, and that dancing was his limit. But you had known Katsuki for years and spent more time with him then you had with anyone ever. You knew him, and he knew you. And you knew that although it would probably earn you grumbling, groaning and eternal complaints, he would do it.

“Please…” With an over-dramatic groan, Katsuki raises from his chair and takes your hand. Your cheeks instantly warm at the contact, and your heart jumps to your throat as he leads you from the table. It’s not the first time he’s touched you, he’s held you before on sleepless nights where you’ve woken up from nightmares of your parents and sat with you tucked into his side until you can determine what’s real and what’s not. But this time, it’s different; you realise you want him to hold your hand. You want him to tuck you into his chest and hold you - and you want him to want too as well. He guides you out to the crowd of people and walks you right to the middle before placing his warm hands on your hips, pulling you towards him. Your arms brace yourself on his chest as you crash into him, and he grins wildly at your blushing face.

You sway side to side, ignoring everyone else in the room as you look up to him. Not in a million years did you ever think you would find yourself here, but it was harder to wrap your head around the fact that it was with Katsuki, the demon that had taken it upon himself to look out for you.

“Why are you doing this for me?” You have to ask. You have to know if he feels the same way as you. Because if he doesn’t then you’ve got to draw some sort of lines, because your heart won’t be able to take it - no matter how much it will hurt to separate yourself from him.

His vermillion eyes stare into yours, and you feel yourself being slightly sucked in. He had told you at first that it was a demon thing, but maybe it’s just a Katsuki thing. They glinted like rubies when the lights hit them, and as much as he would hate you saying it - he was very pretty.

“Because I didn’t want you to miss out on something that obviously meant so much to you dumbass.” Alright, that was a logical answer. But there was something more than he was withholding from you, you knew it.

“Please…” the whisper left your mouth, and if he didn’t have enhanced hearing, you knew he wouldn’t have been able to hear it. Tearing his gaze from you, your eyes settled on his throat just in time to see him swallow nervously. Surely not. You couldn’t even remember a time when you had ever seen him anything other than confident.

“When I first found you, I had no idea where I was or what I was doing. Something pulled me to that alleyway that night and I still don’t know what or why. Once I saw what was going on, I was going to leave you there.” his admission rocks you, and instinctively try to step back, but his arms tighten around you - locking you in place and keeping you close to him. “And then I saw your parents, and you on the floor and I had to do something.” He sighs, hanging his head slightly so you can hear him better. “There are laws, even for my kind, that we have to follow. And that day, I broke a lot of them - and have continued to do so every day since then.” He says, his explanation surprising you. He doesn’t really talk about his private life, and or what really goes on with demons. So him even telling you this, its a lot. He moves slightly, now looking into your eyes with complete severity and something else in his gaze that traps the air inside your lungs.

“I can’t explain what I’m doing, because I don’t even fucking know. But I know one thing, and that’s the fact I want to be around you all the damn time, and if I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you and it drives me fucking crazy.” his hands tighten on your hips as if trying to tether you to this moment for as long as he can. Because with his revelations, your brain is threatening to float away but you force yourself to stay grounded to hear the words you’ve wanted to hear for so long.

“All I want is you, dumbass.” Holy shit. Katsuki is smiling softly down at you, and you honestly can’t believe what’s currently happening, but you honestly know if you don’t kiss him now you will spontaneously combust.

You don’t even give him a chance to breathe before you grab his cheeks, raising on your toes and crush his lips to yours. You feel him tense beneath your hands and for a split second, you think shitshitshitshit and try to pull away. Then in a movement too fast to be natural, a hand moves to the back of your head, tangling itself in your hair as he deepens the kiss, and proceeding to make your legs turn into noodles. You should probably care that you’re in the middle of a high school dance right now, but you can’t bring yourself to. All you care about is the demon currently stealing the breath from your lungs and making butterflies swarm your stomach in a mad panic. Your lips separate by just a few inches, and you finally breathe again, unsure as to if you’re lightheaded from the lack of oxygen or the kiss, but you have a feeling its both. The smug smile that tugs at Katsuki’s mouth make you think its probably the latter.

“Um, I...” You want to say something other than that, but your brain and mouth are no longer working together, so you momentarily stand there like a moron, which makes the guy in front of you smug as hell.

“If I knew that’s what it took to shut you up, I would have done that a long time ago.” Katsuki grins another feral smile and you can’t stop the laughter that bubbles from your lips. Your face floods with embarrassment over your lack of motor skills and you lean your forehead against his chest. The sound of his pounding heart makes you grin too, knowing that you’re not the only one affected by this new massive thing in your life. Katsuki’s hand brushes your head softly and you close your eyes, just letting yourself sway along with him to the music. You realise that the argument you had earlier in the week wasn’t about the dance, but someone taking you to the dance… and of course, he couldn’t come to that conclusion and asked you himself because he’s too stubborn and is a demon… He’s a demon, the reality jumps around your brain, and you try to find the problem with the statement, but you can’t. Not when he is who he is.

“This is going to be complicated, isn’t it?” You ask against his chest.

“I’m not going to lie to you, it’s not going to be easy. There’s so much I need to tell you,” Looking up at him, he lets you see the insecurity surrounding your response, something he wouldn’t let anyone normally see. Did he honestly think that you were going to leave now? After all of that?

“Nothing in my life has ever really been easy,” you point out, unable to hide your smile once again. “So I’m not surprised that anything surrounding you would be anything but.” Any hesitation he had is gone as he leans his forehead against yours, a sigh slipping from his lips. You can’t hold the words in, and for once, they come out with such conviction, it leaves no room for doubt.

“I love you Katsuki,” His eyes are closed, but his smile is wide, and you can see the happiness in his features.

“Thank you y/n.” Unsure as to why exactly he’s thanking you, you tighten your arms around him and this time he places a gentle kiss to your lips. “I love you too, y/n.” You revel in the words, closing your eyes and swaying along to the music.

Katsuki Bakugou was a demon who had saved your life when you were nine years old, and you were stupidly, irrevocably in love with him, and that would never change.

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olivarryprompts · 3 years

Text

Fanfic Friday #7

Welcome to Fanfic Friday! Each Friday I will post a new fanfic here and on A03. Enjoy x

Read and save it on A03 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/32577124

{the anatomy of caring}

Ships: minor stevetony, focused on Tony & Peter

Warnings: none, it’s just fluff :)

Wc: 2355

It was obvious to anyone who knew the two well. It was Steve and Tony, Iron Man and the Captain. It simply made sense. If the logic wasn’t enough, the two looked at home with one and another. They slipped together like puzzle pieces. Tony always helped Steve through the confusion of a new world, and Steve always knew just how to help Tony deal with the anxiety of their reality. They were the perfect couple, and they both knew that.

Then, the spiderling came along. Tony saw a mirror image of himself in Spiderman. A young, ambitious boy who had the curse and gift of superhuman powers. He defied death each day he swung between buildings, and Tony couldn’t help but be enthralled. He couldn’t help but figure out who the kid was (It was pretty easy to figure out it was a kid, considering he only showed up outside of school hours). Steve, knowing his lover so well, knew instantly how protective Tony felt over the kid he’d merely stalked on the internet.

So when Tony explained the plan to show up at Peter’s with the “Stark Internship” it was no surprise to the captain. To the rest of the team, who’d all moved into the tower, it was a complete shock. The fact that Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, wanted to help this kid hone his powers and skills.

“You,” Bruce said, “Want to help this kid..what? Be a superhero?” “Well, someone’s gotta,” Tony explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Someone has to?” Nat questioned. “He can’t go around swinging off rooftops and beating up bad guys without any training. Or backup.” “Correct me if I am wrong, but didn’t your idiot ass do that?” Sam questioned. “I was not a kid. And I had money, friends, people,” Tony wildly gesticulated. “I am beyond confused,” Nat laughed. “Same train as Romanoff,” Clint agreed. “Guys, this is not that hard. Come on. Let’s take this scenario. He ends up meeting some guys, and, instead of, say, winning, he loses. And either he dies, or gets badly injured. Who does he have? No one? He bleeds out. He’s a kid for fuck sake.” “Cap’s been awfully quiet,” Clint pointed out. “What? I knew this was coming days ago,” Steve explained with a smile, “I know my man. He wasn't just gonna let this kid get himself into trouble if he could do anything about it. Plus, Tony doesn’t keep tabs, he violently invades lives.” Tony shot him a look. “With love, invades with lots and lots of love,” he quickly fixes, flashing his million dollar smile at his boy. Tony just rolled his eyes and focused on addressing the group, “Look, I know it’s a lot, but I think it’s just what I have to do. And I own the tower, so, my choice,” he said with a hint of banter in his voice. Tony headed towards the elevator. “Where the hell are you going?” Sam asked. “The spiderling’s.”

Tony left before he could hear any of the exasperated responses. It was a fair drive down to Queen’s where the boy lived. He parked outside the small building, and he then climbed the seven flights of stairs to the apartment. He knocked on the door and greeted, “Hello, I’m Tony, Tony Stark.” He smiled his media smile, extending a hand towards May. “I-I know. Mr. Stark, hello, w-what are you doing here?” “Well, your nephew Peter applied for the Steptember Grant, and well, he got it,” Tony said, thrusting all the enthusiasm he could muster. He maintained his fabricated nonchalant, disregarding manner in most places. “Wow this is, this is incredible! Peter will be home any minute now. Come in, come in. Can I get you a drink?”

He was back at the tower, recapping his meeting with Peter to Cap. “-can you believe no one knows? Well, now it's knew. No one knew this kid was swinging around. And he got these powers with no one to help him through it, and god, it must have been awful. But, he’s good, Cap, he’s so good. He feels the need to help people, beyond just guilt. He’s, he’s-” “Tones,” Steve said, kissing his cheek, “Take a deep breath.” To be fair to the man, he hadn’t slept for at least 36 hours. With all that coffee in his system he had the right to be a bit uncomposed. The two were sitting at the breakfast bar, well Tony was sitting and Steve was behind it, cooking some eggs for the younger man. “I’m just glad I found him before he killed himself trying to save the world.” “Me too. How long has it been since you’ve slept?” “J?” “Sir, it has been 36 hours.“ “Tonyyyy,” Steve said, clearly disappointed. “Steveeee.” “I’m forcing you to bed.” “I have work to do. Plus it’s only eight o’clock.” “Eat then sleep, honey,” Steve said in that voice that you just didn’t ignore.

At first the “Stark Internship” started as Tony upgrading Peter’s suit, monitoring his patrols, and teaching how to fight. Well, Natasha taught him how to fight. After she offered, Tony was in no place to deny. It was overwhelming to Peter. He was being taught about tech with Tony Stark and being taught how to fight from the black widow.

For the first couple weeks, he was a nervous wreck in the tower. He’d hardly speak to anyone and only do and touch what he was told to. He’d change, head straight to the gym, and then Natasha would train him. At first, the training was silent, other than Nat’s coaching. Then, slowly, the two began talking. It started with Nat asking how he first got his power, then it moved to her first missions, and then suddenly Nat knew a lot about Peter. And Peter was one of the few people in the world who knew a lot about Natasha. “-so what, you fought alien robots sent by Thor’s brother?” “Yeah, that's about right. I had to get up to one of the buildings, so, with Cap’s shield as my trampoline, I launched myself onto one of their flying machines. Pretty fun time up there.” “Holy shit, that’s incredible. How’d you stop them?” Peter knew how the battle had gone down, afterall he’d been in New York during the attack, but it was something else hearing it from an actual Avenger. “Well, it was quite complicated. The scientist-” Nat reminded him to keep his wrist straight. He made the fix, and went back to punching the bag. She launched back into the tale,”The scientist, remember him, who Loki’d controlled woke up mid battle. He’d installed a death switch for the portal, but to access it we needed the scepter. But, the thing is, the government basically sent a nuke toward New York in an effort to contain the aliens, so Tony grabbed the nuke and aimed from inside of the portal and threw it at their main spacecraft. This turned off all of the alien tech. He was a he-” “Hey Kid, Nat. Please don’t tell me you're telling the New York story,” Tony said from the entrance. “Hi Mr. Stark.” Nat rolled her eyes, “I am telling the New York story. You were a he-” “Don’t say it. You almost done?” “I’ll call it. Good job today kid.” “Thanks.”

Similar to the gym, he’d become far more comfortable around Tony and in his lab. At first he’d sit silently, doing his work. Then he got used to Tony’s eccentric tendencies, he memorized the layout and where everything was, and he’d also been unofficially given a workspace. It became easier and easier to feel comfortable. The late night coffee and deep chats were simply a bonus. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, it felt like he had a father figure. It was nice.

One day, Tony was vibin’ to ACDC and chatting with Steve whilst working on Mock 50 of his new suit design when Peter showed up. Steve being in the lab was something Peter had also become accustomed to. “Jarvis, please get some good music on in here. Queen perhaps?” Peter requested. He did it to annoy Mr. Stark, and it did just that. “Hey kid,” Cap said. “Don’t “hey kid” him,” Mr. Stark said, faking anger, “Did you just insult my music? How dare you? I am revoking all Jarvis privileges.” Peter laughed alongside Cap. “Sir, you can’t do that. I quite like the kid, and the innovations he is creating require my attention.” “Why did I program you to have a goddamn personality?” Tony said, focusing back to his work, “And Jarvis, put the quality music back now.” “Anway, how was school?” Steve asked. “Good, yeah. The same really. We had another one of your “fitness” videos for class today. Real good,” Peter joked. “Oh god, please don’t tell me they really use those.” “They really use those,” Peter smiled, “I’m going for a shower. See you in a flash.” “Wrong superhero, kid,” Mr. Stark called. “Idiot,” Peter heard Cap mutter into the top of Mr. Stark’s head.

Upon returning, he noticed the absence of the team leader. “Where did Cap go?” “Actual work or something stupid like that.” Peter just smiled as he settled down at his workstation. He wanted to try out some new formulas for his web fluid. He’d had an idea in spanish class, and scribbled it down in his notebook. He fished for it in his backpack.

It was so easy. Too easy. And so so comfortable.

“Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

Peter had just finished sparring with Nat, and Tony, unusually, came up to the gym to “collect” him. He hadn’t done that for months. Mainly because Peter stopped coming straight down to Tony’s lab. Instead, he went to the kitchen and, mainly because Steve forced him, ate some food. He usually ended up in a random chat with Sam or Bucky. Occasionally he would catch Banner, and he’d end up in a different laboratory. He was always happy to learn about what the incredible doctor was up to. Sometimes, he was even able to provide a suggestion or two. Bruce always looked impressed by the boy. It made Peter smile.

Then he would actually make his way down to the lab, but not before trying to find Hawkeye. He'd wanted to learn some tricks with the bow and arrow. Somehow, Clint would be dragged into teaching Peter how to fire a bow once a week. At least. Clint pretended he minded through teasing and jokes, but realistically he loved hearing about the kid’s week. He’d always been good with kids. It became a running joke that Clint would let Peter know about all the tech upgrades he wanted, and then Peter’d report them to Tony. Most of the time Tony replied with something snarky like, “Tell the idiot he shouldn’t have picked a dumbass weapon like a bow and arrow,” or “do it yourself if you care that much.”

The Avengers Tower had become home just as much as his apartment in Queens was, and it was clear that Tony knew that. Hence the, “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.” He took the little Avenger to the elevator, hitting floor 80. He was a little confused given that floors 75-90 were all bedroom floors for the avengers or just spare bedrooms. “Mr. Stark-” “You’ll see, kid.” In reality, Tony was nervous. He and Steve decided a while back that Peter deserved his own space in the tower, but he had been scared that Peter wouldn’t like it. That he picked the wrong colours, or mattress, or well, anything.

The doors opened and there were two doors facing one another. Tony opened one of them with a key he pulled out of his black suit. The door opened and he was met by a beautiful and modern room. It had a huge bed and tv. There was a desk equipped with the latest stark Holographic technology. In the corner was a suit, specifically a spider suit. That is when it clicked. “Mr. Stark, is, is this all mine?” “Yeah kid, sorry if you don’t like anything. Cap and I did the best we could knowing what you like. And ye-” Peter cut him off with a hug, “thank you.” “Anything for you, kid. Just say the word. Want a tour?” Peter eagerly nodded. “Alright so that’s the bed, obviously. No more sleeping in the guest rooms or that couch in the worksho-” “You sleep ther-” “Don’t say that I sleep there, I am no role model for sleep schedules.” Peter just smiled. “This is a little workshop area I mocked up. You can’t really tinker up here, but do all the designing you want,” he pulled up the most recent project Peter was working on, “Then, just through there is the bathroom, a little lounge area over there and yeah, that’s all. Oh, there’s two mini fridges by the lounge area.” Just as Tony finished his explanation, Steve showed up. “Tones, you showed it to him without me,” Cap complained. “Sorry, babes, you took too long.” he turned around and placed a little kiss on his lips. “It’s fine. How do you like it Pete?” “It’s, it’s-” Peter couldn’t think of any words to describe how incredible it was to have a room at the Avengers Tower, but more importantly how incredible it was to have so many people looking out for him. Before he had just one, Aunt May. She is amazing, but he’d always longed for just a little more. Then, with the Avengers, he’d been given a lot more. They became his family. And now his home. “Thank you,” was all Peter could muster before falling onto the floor.

The two of them, now in each other's arms, just looked down fondly at the boy. “We did good,” Cap whispered. “We did good,” Tony agreed. They did good with more than just the room.

#avengers fanfic #basically peter being unofficially adopted by the avengers lol #irondad #peter parker #tony stark #stevetony #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #fanfiction #avengers #the avenger #found family

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