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wonunuu · 3 years

Text

iris beauty ❀

40: getting closer

✎ synopsis: falling for a guy is never easy, especially when your best friend of many years basically claimed him; you and mina have been friends for as long as you can remember, but your loyalty and trust are tested when she asks you to pretend to be her in meeting a guy she had been talking to online and you unintentionally start to develop feelings for him.

✎ genre: romance, angst, comedy

✎ pairing: reader x yoon jeonghan

✎ word count: 1.6k+

✎ warnings: suggestive

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a/n: i gotta question.. do you think pet names between couples is cute? cos like me, no lol i mean like the only one i'd accept is "my love" but idk i just don't know (this has nothing to do with the au lmaoo just a thought in pj's little brain)

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2:41

After your overtime shift at the café, you head back to your apartment to grab your textbooks. Finals were approaching, and there is no doubt that you were stressed. You need to, not only pass in your exams, but also excel in all of them to get at least a 3.8 GPA, and this is the only acceptable grade for you if you wanted to get accepted into a medical school.

So, studying has been your number one priority for the past couple of days. You and Vernon, your study buddy, have been in and out of the campus library to do nothing else but study. And that’s where you’re heading again.

“I’m almost there,” you manage to say, panting, while jogging towards the library where an impatient Vernon was waiting. For what felt like three weeks of jogging, the familiar building finally came in sight. There were countless students, some whose faces you’ve seen before, were making their way in--probably has the same reason as you. With this many students going there to study, you knew there would be competition in getting the tables and booths first, and you mentally scold yourself for arriving late.

“Can you be any slower?” Vernon rolls his eyes teasingly, earning him a light punch on the shoulder from you. The two of you head in and look for available spots. You checked the first floor, but they were all packed. As well as the second, third and fourth floor. Your legs felt like they were about to fall off, tired and numb from climbing an endless amount of stairs. Not to mention, you were also carrying textbooks that’s equivalent to the weight of three elephants stacked together in your bag, and you say that with no exaggeration.

“There’s one,” he points to an empty desk just by the window. As you are walking, from the side of your eye, you see another group of students pointing at it and making their way. You increase your speed, dragging Vernon behind you, so that you could get there first before they could. Fortunately, just before they got there, you slapped your hand on the table.

“Scram, freshmans,” you growled and Vernon crosses his arms, smirks. The group of friends roll their eyes before they walk away, and you smile in victory. Some would say your actions were a little immature, especially that comment you made, but you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. Afterwards, you and Vernon take your seats, and start your hours of studying.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

9:28

Opening the door to the apartment, you were surprised to see Jeonghan sitting on your couch, watching the television. You walk behind him and snake your hands around his shoulders, wrapping him in a warm hug, and nuzzle your head between his neck.

“Another long day at the library?” He caresses your hands and you nod in response. “Have you eaten?” he asks. You remove your hands and walk around the couch. You lay down and place your head on his lap. “I can make you something if you want,” he offers.

“Will you?” you look at him, smiling. You’ve never really imagined Jeonghan cooking before. You don’t even know if he knows how to. But you weren’t going to turn down his generous offer to cook for you, whatever the result may be.

Jeonghan stands up and heads to the kitchen, and you watch him from the couch. He opens the cupboards, takes out the pan and places it on the stove. He then opens the fridge, looking for anything he can cook. To your surprise, he takes out a bag with a logo of your favourite restaurant.

You cock your head to the side as your eyebrows meet. “I thought you were going to cook for me. That’s take out.” You stated, pointing at the bag he was holding. “I am going to cook. I’m gonna heat it up. That counts,” Jeonghan looks at you and gives you a smile that displays his teeth. Disbelief is all you feel. You scoff at his reply, and feeling too tired to argue, you lay back down.

Jeonghan has been nothing but supportive these past couple of days. When you and Vernon were at the library, he would drop by to give you two snacks and drinks. Sometimes, like today, he would use the spare keys you gave him to enter your apartment to clean up so you wouldn’t do it when you get home. Embarrassed, you told him to stop cleaning your mess, but he said it wasn’t a big deal and that he didn’t want you to come home to such an unkempt apartment--the unorganized sight causes more stress, he adds.

You were grateful for everything Jeonghan has done, yes. But you can’t help but think of one specific person who used to do the same. Who used to tell you to eat before you go to bed, who reminded you to drink water, who reassured you that you would pass your exams, and who comforted you when things didn’t turn out the way you hoped for. Joshua has never left your mind since he went away. Often, you wondered what he might be doing and where he might be. You’ve had multiple urges to send him a text or ring his phone to check up on him, but you thought he might want some space. You knew he would come back when he’s ready, and you were willing to move on from the past and start anew with him. Gosh, you miss him.

“Mind telling me what’s in that pretty head of yours?” Jeonghan disrupts your thoughts as he walks towards you, holding a plate. He sits down and offers his free hand to help you up. You grab his hand and use your abdominal muscle to sit up.

He hands you the plate and you take it from him, and immediately, the aroma makes your mouth salivate. “Mhmm,” you murmured, “this looks delicious. Thank you, Han.”

Your boyfriend nods and urges you to take a bite. So you did.

“What about you,” you ask after swallowing your first bite.

“I’m okay, babe. Just eat, hmm?” Jeonghan smiles while reaching his hand to your face to tuck your hair behind your ear. You felt bad that you were the only one eating, so you feed him. At first he refused, but quickly cave in when you pouted.

The two of you sat on your couch, taking turns to feed each other. Sometimes, he would follow up a bite with a soft peck or two--he called it a quick served dessert. You rolled your eyes at his corny remark, but you couldn’t hide the rosy tint on your cheeks as the blood rushes through them.

Jeonghan absolutely loved spending these little moments with you. No words can ever explain the feelings he gets when he hears your laughter--your smile alone is enough to make his heart melt as if it was ice cream under a fifty degree celsius summer day. He would not exchange this moment for anything else. There is nothing he wants more than to spend time with the person he loves most.

After your meal, you head to the kitchen and quickly wash the dishes before going back to sit with Jeonghan. You plop yourself beside him and he takes his arm and wraps it around your shoulder. You do the same as you snake both your arms around his waist and rest your head on his chest, where the sound of his heartbeat is clear and audible. You don’t know if you just really love to hear his heart beat because you love him, or if it’s because of your longing profession of becoming a doctor. You think it’s a combination of both.

“What should we watch?” Jeonghan asks as he flips through shows and movies available on netflix. You shrugged your shoulders and told him you were okay with any. Soon, the two of you settled with Grey’s Anatomy--a show you absolutely loved. Jeonghan was never a fan of medical shows or whatsoever, but if his girl was going to be a doctor, he’ll have to get familiar with some terminologies, right?

Three episodes have passed and the two of you were still in the same position as before, cuddled on the couch. You were still watching intently, but you were not so sure about Jeonghan though. Not seeing his face, you guess that he probably fell asleep when you guys were just halfway through the first episode. You didn’t mind though. He deserved to rest.

However, your guess was proven wrong when you suddenly feel his kiss at the top of your head, causing you to giggle. He did it again, and again, and again, each lasting longer than the previous one, and moving lower and lower. Kissing as a form of affection has become a normal thing between the two of you now. But this time, Jeonghan’s kisses feel more than just affection.

Images in your head started popping in, making your heart rate increase and your breathing pattern to change.

“Yn,” Jeonghan softly whispers to your ears, making your insides churn, “are you okay?”

Fuck it.

You unwrap your arms from his body and take your hands straight to cup his face, taking him by surprise. You close your eyes and lean in to kiss his lips. He freezes for ma second but quickly melts right into the kiss. He uses his hands to take hold of your waist and pulls you in front of him. You oblige and place your knees on either side of his lap.

You detach yourself to catch your breath, but your eyes remained closed as you relinquished the taste of his lips. He did the same, but eager to taste your lips once again, he leans in and kisses you, quite roughly this time. He takes his right hand and places it at the back of your neck, guiding you as the two of you made out on your couch.

“You still have extra clothes here, right?” You ask between your kisses. Jeonghan doesn't respond, and instead kisses you harder. Soon, he trails kisses from your lips to the side if your neck. Whispers escape you lips as you cock your head to the side to give him more room.

This night is going to be long.

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tags:

@yyxyzti @acciofirewhiskey @doiewonu @shuajeong @wooziverse @boogyuu @rjsmochii @haniehae @twentysixofmays @suhfluffy @dancingddays @lovingyu04 @sydneyy-jade @itsdnguyenxoxo @fluffyhyeju @haoraecane @dy-mglzz @1800zuho @t-secretpot @floweryjeons @yaebbinnie @t-secretpot @not-sojoyuus @xcalicoups @ryuyalana @bubblywonu @youbloominsideofme @lavenonie @wonwoonlight @yoonzinow @mariecoura @juji-han @strawbinnie-shortcake @isa499 @pseudoyop @serenadesvt @glouraeswei @glowingjaehyun @sunflowergyeomie @kunmaid @apricottulips @hao-ling @cheolright @pancakeandfrogs @yanniezx @jeonjungkaka @sunflower-euphro @monstathedisco

unable to tag: @tyongs @jeongjungkaka @jammyjamjamss @hauntedprincessarbiter @scoffingscully

#caratwritersclub #kwritersworldnet #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen texts #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #svt au #seventeen social media au #svt #svt texts #svt scenarios

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caratmagic · 3 years

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—jung wooyoung—

contains: arguing, pretty offensive words, explicit content

word count: 2.3k

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🌻taglist🦋: @nikkell @yunsangoveryonder @sunwooyoung @hwanderlands @multidreams-and-desires @reeateez @snacksonwang @sunsethw4 @nevieatiny

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Enemy Territory 🌻chapter 4🌻

You hate that you find yourself dragging your feet slowly—yet quietly— to Wooyoung’s door. Hoping that the noises you hear from behind it aren’t those of pleasure.

There’s an exchange of them chatting, audible enough to hear but not enough to make out the words. As if snooping like this wasn’t enough, you press the shell of your ear against the door. Using the frame of it to steady your body from making any unnecessary movements or noise.

A rustle. Then several more. You think you hear the sheets move.

They’ve stopped talking.

More silence, then a loud thump onto the floor.

Your heart races out of your chest and you have a hard time picturing what could possibly be going on inside Wooyoung’s room.

Footsteps hurry to the door and before you could get more than halfway down the hall, Wooyoung’s body peeks out from behind his door.

“Snooping on me now?” He scoffs with that annoyingly charming sneer. “I thought we were supposed to stay out of each other’s business? Now look who’s breaking their own rules.”

You shut your eyes tightly while your back faces your ex.

Fuck.

A breath quickly fills your lungs as you turn around in efforts to compose your expressions. You’re somehow confused as to why he was suddenly wearing a shirt.

“I— I was just about to knock and ask you what type of meat you wanted to grill, you idiot.” Your mouth moves faster than your thoughts and you’re so glad that your brain was quick enough to pull something straight out of your ass. “I didn’t want to… interrupt.”

Wooyoung holds the door open slightly for you to catch a small glimpse of the girl politely seated at the edge of his bed. Blinking curiously at you with a content smile on her face, although her tears still stain her cheeks. “It’s not even noon yet y/n, I’m smarter than that to start having rough sex knowing that you’re in the apartment.”

This thought somehow makes your stomach turn and not in a pleasant way. You didn't want to imagine Wooyoung like this with someone else. Yet, an image of him bare and in his sexual glory flashes across your mind and for a second you forget that you aren’t single. You forget that you have a neglectful boyfriend who likes to have sex with you once a week then proceeds to avoid you until the next weekend arrives.

Does Wooyoung have sex often when I’m not around? Did he have to use the word ‘rough’? Do they have rough sex together?—

Why was the thought of Wooyoung having sex with someone else more distressing to you than the entire problem of your boyfriend literally using you as a weekend booty call?

Not a single soul should know why, because the reality of it all is that: One, Wooyoung is single. And two, you are not.

So you had no right to be bothered about it.

Right?

“Uh. Right,” You subconsciously mess with the tips of your fingers to think of what to say next since you didn’t expect that his comment would throw your mind into a loop. “Just text me when you’ve, um, decided what you want. I’ll head to the store now since you’re busy… so you’ve got 20 minutes to make a choice.”

“No need to wait 20 minutes for me to text you, y/n,” Wooyoung slowly pulls his lips into a gentle smile. A smile that sets off a million bursts of fireworks through your chest. “You already know what kind of meat I like to grill.”

Instantly you blink away the feeling—or at least try to ignore it. “People change. Just wanted to ask in case you had a change in taste.”

Wooyoung presses his lips together before nodding his head slowly. Clearly catching your composure and deciding not to point it out due to the guest on his bed. “Uh, nope. My tastes are constant, y/n.”

The worst part of it all is, your conversation was being monitored by a ditsy flower, just waiting for Wooyoung to come back and take care of her… You hated it. Everything about this set up.

Now, heading out of the apartment to get groceries seemed like a much better idea to you than twiddling your thumbs to wait for Wooyoung’s pretty guest to leave.

“I’ll head out then.”

Upon grabbing your purse and your keys, you curse at yourself mentally for getting caught snooping. Even scolding your heart for causing your mind to lose control of your emotions.

************

It had only been half an hour since you left to get ingredients for the meal with Wooyoung, yet a familiar vehicle pulls into the apartment complex parking lot.

A few flights up and your boyfriend is back at the front of your door. Sure to himself that your car has left and that you’d be gone for a while.

San punches in the code of your apartment door. When it opens, a girl stands on the other side peering up at San with a shocked expression.

“Oh hey, It’s y/n boyfriend.” She smiles before turning to Wooyoung who, at the moment, keeps a straight face.

They had finally completed their 30 minute rant session, where she comes to him for help with her loneliness. Which was a topic to talk about for another time since Wooyoung felt like it wasn’t even his place to do it for her— also, considering he’s rejected her multiple times to be something more than her emotional support friend.

He never felt like a new relationship was something he needed.

As far as relationships are concerned, Wooyoung has enough on his plate to deal with considering the ugly truth he’s recently discovered. And of course, his unsettled feelings for his gorgeous ex.

“What are you doing back?” Wooyoung asks San, holding the door open for his emotionally unstable friend.

“Uh, coming to see my girlfriend??” San exchanges an offended glare at Wooyoung.

“Oh, I thought you already had your fill for her last night… What happened? Fell asleep before you could finish the job?” Wooyoung’s words are calm yet sharp like knives. Attacking San with precision as he tilts his head in accusation. “She’s out getting groceries.” He adds.

“You know,” San narrows his eyes, striding to level his face right in front of Wooyoung’s. “You have a lot of nerve thinking you can have any say in our relationship considering you’re her fucking ex.”

“We only broke up because I decided to switch colleges last minute without telling her.” Wooyoung doesn’t back down. He’s aware that his choice was the reason why the two of you broke up and that he should’ve told you sooner he wasn’t going to go to the same college as you guys had planned. “At least I never snuck out of bed after having sex with her.”

San scoffs at the gall. “Don’t act like you fucking know me.”

“I don’t.” Wooyoung shifts his weight and sticks his hands into his jean pockets. “But I know every part of y/n way better than you do. Every. Single. Part.”

San’s hand clenches into a fist and right before he draws it back to swing at Wooyoung. The girl awkwardly standing beside them in the threshold of the door raises her voice. “Hey, as much as I like the drama, I kind of have work so if I can just pass through…”

San doesn’t steer his eyes away from Wooyoung as he takes a step to the side for the girl to get around his body. Too peeved to realize that he was blocking the door.

“…I’ll see you later, Wooyoung. Thanks for helping me out again.” She waves before disappearing into the hall.

San huffs through his nose. It’s upsetting to him that Wooyoung doesn’t even seem the least bit affected by the situation. “Why aren’t you packing your shit? Isn’t this your last week?”

As if his train of thought derails, without even waiting for an answer to his own questions, San pushes past your ex and heads straight into your room.

Looking for what he left so recklessly before sneaking away that morning.

Wooyoung, with his hands still in his pockets, calmly follows San. Watching your boyfriend’s frantic search for whatever he’s misplaced.

Since Wooyoung respects your privacy, he stops right at the entrance of your room. “Did you wait for y/n to leave the apartment?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” San tosses a pillow off your bed. Not sparing a single glance at your ex.

“I don’t know,” Wooyoung leans against the door. “I mean, if I had something to hide, I guess I’d want to wait until she was gone too.”

San stops completely. His heart drops to his stomach when he turns to your ex standing in front of your room. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Wooyoung shrugs with a playful smirk etching onto his face as one of his hands pulls something out of his right pocket. “You tell me.”

There. What San was looking for.

His phone.

“Where did you find that!?” San yells as he practically dives for it.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Wooyoung shoves it back into his pocket. Placing his hand in front of himself defensively. “Question is, why are you so upset?”

San swallows and processes quickly before clearing his throat. He couldn’t understand why his palms were so sweaty. “It’s—Because it’s fucking mine! Hand it over!”

Wooyoung shakes his head, angling his body away from your boyfriend. “It can’t be yours.”

“Are you fucking mad?” San yells again. Smacking Wooyoung’s arm away from the position he’s guarding his pocket. “Of course, it is. It’s my phone!”

“No, no, no.” Wooyoung’s stupid, playful smile begins to boil hate into San’s veins. “This can’t be your phone.”

“I’ll drop kick that fucking smile off your face, you son of a bitch, give me back my phone!”

“Dude,” Wooyoung chuckles, loving how riled up your shitty boyfriend is getting. “I swear this phone has got to be someone else’s… because when I saw it on the couch, ringing at 4 am, someone named Eunji was calling to ask if her ‘daddy’ was still going to—and I’ll quote her on this, “Rearrange my guts like you always do on Saturday nights.” And you're telling me you’re certain that this is your phone?”

The reality settles into the air and San realizes that he’s been caught cheating on you… by your ex.

This is when Wooyoung’s twisted smirk turns into an angry scowl. He’s disgusted that you found a man so indisputably vile and unloyal.

“You really think you’ll get away with this? Lying to y/n like this and fucking her once every week just to make up for how shitty a person you are?”

San’s gaze falters to the floor and he snatches his phone from the unguarded pocket of Wooyoung’s jeans. “What are you gonna do, huh? Tattle-tail on me?” He shoves it into his back pocket, scoffing. “She’ll never believe you. She hates you.”

“Even if she does,” Wooyoung turns on his heels and enters into his room across the hall. “She’ll wish you were dead after figuring out that you leave her in the mornings just to be in some other woman’s bed the very same night.”

San follows Wooyoung a few steps into the hall. “You wouldn’t dare tell her.” He spits.

An exasperated sigh paired with the front door swinging open, startles the two men away from glaring at one another.

*********

After 30 minutes of shopping, you head home.

The entire time in the parking lot, you were gathering the courage to talk yourself into confidently walking back into your house.

So what if he was having sex? You have sex all the time with San while Wooyoung stays in the room across the hall from yours.

How is coming back home knowing that he’s having fun with a woman be any different?

Equality at its best example for it. You remind yourself as you exit the elevator.

To your dismay, You were unpleasantly greeted by a very voluptuous woman with intruding questions as to why you were going to enter into her boyfriend’s home.

You push past the nuisance at your front door. Sighing as you lazily drop the groceries onto the floor.

You can only assume that this other girl— an entirely different girl compared to the one from this morning—is Wooyoung's little problem.

This boy must be cheating… What a waste. “Taste’s are constant” my ass.

You pray that Wooyoung’s ditsy girl toy from earlier this morning has left. Though you liked witnessing drama, you didn’t want to see two girls fight over your ex. “Wooyoung? I think you have a guest.” You call out as you take off your shoes.

To your surprise, Your boyfriend is staring at you from the hallway— eyes wide and stunned.

Wooyoung steps out of his room to stand in the hall next to San. A flat smile sets on his features as he stares at you and eunji. “I won’t need to…” He seems to be talking to San when he speaks. “Next time, set a better password on your phone. You never know who’ll scroll through your messages and send people your girlfriend’s address.”

This confuses you. Immensely. More so, when San’s face drains of all color.

“Baby! Who the hell is this girl?” Miss voluptuous checks your shoulder as she rushes past you. Headed towards Wooyoung with her arms stretched out.

What rattles your world from it’s axis isn’t that Wooyoung doesn’t hold her, it’s that the girl doesn’t even look at him. She doesn’t even acknowledge that Wooyoung’s standing there.

Instead,

She’s all over your boyfriend. Calling him “baby’ and glaring at you as if you were nothing more than a disgusting insect.

No, no… I must be dreaming.

“Sannie, who the hell is this girl and why is she coming into your apartment?”

[ chapter 5 >> ]

#wooyoung #jung wooyoung #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #ateez #ateez imagines #san imagines #ateez x reader #ateez smut

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

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sugar sugar - the planning 2.0

Summary: It’s a new year and the engaged couple are moving forward with their wedding planning.

Sugar Daddy!Henry Cavill x Becky Kim (asian OFC)

Warnings: Smut (like vibrator(s), slight anal play, squirting, slight punishment)

Wordcount: 3.8k

Masterlist // Sugar Sugar Masterlist // Sugar Sugar the wedding Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

January 6th 5 p.m.

The entirety that is left of December I’ve been a slightly emotional mess. Okay, remove slightly, because I’m an emotional mess. Period. I don’t know what caused it. Maybe it’s the fact that we have our invitations ready. Maybe it’s because Christmas spend as an engaged couple was a little overwhelming. Maybe spending New Years together in a club with my friends and my fiancé was too much of a change after spending them in pretty much solitude for many years.

So, it doesn’t surprise me at all that I have been bawling non stop for one of my final fittings for my wedding dress. It’s absolutely gorgeous. It hugs me in all the right places and I feel like such a bride in it.

When I walk into Henry’s office, I see he is alone with some paperwork. Henry looks up from his desk and smiles widely when he notices it’s me. ‘Hi sweetheart. How was the dress fitting?’

Oh goodness, there are the tears again. ‘Oh no, I’m sorry.’

He perks up in his seat, immediately alert because of the tears. ‘Was it no good?’ he asks me, ushering me over.

‘No, honey, it was amazing. The dress is so beautiful.’ I sit on his desk after he cleaned it up for me and I let out a deep sigh. ‘It’s just one step closer to becoming a bride.’

He nods with a smile. ‘It sure is. I can’t wait to marry you.’ Henry examines my face and he asks: ‘Are you sure you’re alright?’

‘Yeah, I’m totally okay. It’s just that I’ve been super duper emotional these passed few weeks. It’s just me being idiotic, so please just indulge me.’

‘I don’t think it’s idiotic,’ he says. ‘But when my future wife isn’t feeling well, I might as well make sure she feels better. Is there something I can do, baby girl?’

‘It’s fine, it’s fine,’ I chuckle. ‘Just silly old me being overly emotional, so let’s forget it. On another note, how are you doing? You have a lot of work to do?’

He nods. ‘Yeah, but I can take it home with me. The walls are closing me in, so to speak.’

‘How about,’ I say, ‘you and I go have something to eat? I’m starving.’

Henry agrees to that a little too quickly. In lightening speed, he packed his suitcase and holds me hand as we walk towards the elevator. People in the company slowly began to notice that I was dating the boss and they have all been very supportive.

To our faces, but I think they mean it.

Once Henry and I got in his car, he doesn’t start it up immediately. I want to ask him what’s wrong, but he gives me a desperate kiss on my lips. ‘Are you alright?’ I ask him.

‘I just missed you a lot,’ he says. ‘Might’ve had some never ending phone calls. I’m glad to finally see you. I might be a little obsessed with you.’

I blush. ‘I’m such a lucky woman,’ I admit.

Henry now does start the car and as he drives through the busy New York streets, he asks me where I want to eat. I simply shrug, telling him he can decide. He gets this slightly smug grin on his lips, but it’s not new to me.

Ever since our little conversation, where I just called it as it is (he is pretty much a dom and I’m probably the biggest sub he’ll ever encounter), he has been actively enjoying it a lot more. Every time I say he can decide, every time I ask him to make a phone call for me, every time I ask his opinion on some clothing, it kinda feeds his ego.

Of course it’s not exactly like they describe it online, but with the way we do it, it feels so natural with him. It’s exactly the way I like it.

We stop at one of my favorite places to eat and when Henry and I walk in, the waiter seems to recognize us. He even asks us if we want the usual, which we both want. Henry and I are seated next to each other and we stare at the aquarium.

Henry has his arm wrapped around my shoulders, as he sighs deeply in content. We’re sitting pretty secluded, just the way Henry likes it. Privacy is a big deal to him and I don’t disagree with it. When my friends and I go out to the clubs he can get us into, he makes sure there is a safe spot for us to sit, lots of privacy and sometimes it comes with a bouncer, making sure no unwanted guests are joining us.

‘You’re tired,’ I note, my eyes following the clownfish that is swimming around. ‘Can I help you with something?’

‘No, no, baby, don’t you worry about me,’ he says. He presses a kiss on my forehead, before whispering in my ear: ‘Daddy’s alright, baby girl.’

My friends know about us, about me calling him daddy every now and then, but they had yet to catch us. Until a few days ago, where I forgot they were around and I mindlessly let it slip when he was preparing some breakfast for us. The audible gasp both Genevieve and Viola let out, caused me to actually wanting to die of shame and they haven’t let it go ever since.

But hearing him refer to himself as daddy, makes me forget all about that mortifying moment, and simply lets me appreciate what we have.

Henry and I enjoy our food, sip on our drinks as we share some simple stories of today. ‘What are your plans for later today?’ he asks me. ‘Or tomorrow?’

‘Not much, since the boss isn’t allowing me to “overwork” myself.’

He chuckles. ‘I heard the weather is gonna be killing tomorrow. I already told the other employees they can work from home.’

‘Oh,’ I say, ‘so, you’re staying home too?’

‘I am. I was thinking about maybe starting on our guest list?’

‘Starting?’ I ask him. ‘You probably forgot about Genevieve being involved. We already have a guest list. We can maybe go look for the perfect wedding rings. Oh my, we could do that.’

‘Sounds good to me.’ He takes my hand in his, admiring the engagement ring. ‘We could go for something similar to each other, but yours much more dainty.’

‘You checked rings already?’

‘I might’ve,’ he admits. ‘Just want the best for you.’

‘I love you,’ I whisper, as my heart swells with love and adoration. ‘I love you so much.’

February 14th 9 p.m.

It’s that time again. It’s that time where Henry decided to use the vibrator again with remote control. The catch this time? We’re not in our penthouse, not at his office totally shut off for other people to come in. We’re at a restaurant celebrating my birthday.

He does this from time to time, simply because he seems to enjoy me suffering, however this is the first time we’re actually in public. We’re sitting next to one another, staring over the city at night, as my leg is moving up and down nervously. The vibrations come and go and each time I’m so close, he must sense it, because he turns it off completely.

‘Baby girl,’ he says in a dangerous tone, ‘careful with your lips, now. Don’t chew on them.’

I let out a sigh, followed by a pout. ‘You’re torturing me,’ I whimper.

Almost like he was waiting on me admitting it, because the vibrations slowly come back to life. ‘I am?’

I nod. ‘Please, let’s just get out of here. I already finished my dessert.’

‘But I haven’t.’ He leans back and takes a sip of his drink. ‘Have I told you you look absolutely stunning tonight?’

I look down my silver dress, that is pretty flashy, but in this restaurant everyone looks showy here. Compared to them, I look pretty modest. ‘Yes, you did,’ I say.

Henry gently leans down, giving me a kiss on my forehead. ‘I love you, you’re doing so well.’ I receive another kiss on the tip of my nose and he descends to my lips.

I whimper against him, as I push my legs together, desperate for some friction, some touch. Anything. ‘Daddy,’ I mumble against his lips.

‘You want to go home, baby?’

‘Yes, please.’

He smiles. ‘Okay, let me help you in your coat,’ he says, finally taking a bit of pity on me. ‘Baby girl, you’re doing so well.’

I stand up on wobbly legs and he helps me in my coat. I zip it up and the two of us walk out of this place. Henry holds my purse in his hand, while the other is securely placed on the small of my back. He tells the limo chauffeur to drive towards home and we get in the back.

As the limo starts to drive, Henry unzips my coat and smiles. ‘Let’s take this all off.’

‘All of it? I can’t. I have to get from the limo back to the apartment, remember?’

‘That is why you’re wearing a longer coat, baby girl,’ he retorts. ‘Take it off.’

I do as he tells me to. I take off the coat, before I push the straps of my dress down. Since this isn’t a dress that requires a bra, I’m left in nothing but my flimsy thongs. He orders me to give them to him and like usual, they end up in his pocket. He actually takes the damn time to neatly fold my dress so he can put it in my purse.

Besides my heels, I’m totally naked in the back of the limo. I think it’s good that Henry owns this limo and pays this driver a lot of money. I wonder if the driver knows what is up—especially since this isn’t the first time we’ve had some sexual escapades in the back—but there isn’t a lot of time to think about it, as Henry pulls me on his lap. His lips wrap around my hardened nipple, his teeth softly sinking into it. He turns on the vibrator, as his bulge pressing against my clit. His hands are kneading the flesh of my behind. It’s so messy. We’re so messy, but that is what I love about him. No matter how dirty it gets, he always wants more. More of me. More of us.

He spreads my asscheeks apart, before on of his fingers gently touches my puckered hole, before letting it slip passed the tight muscle. ‘One day,’ he whispers, ‘it’ll be a lot more than just my finger, baby.’

The moan that’s caused because of all that, is a lot louder than I originally intended and he gives me a firm and loud smack on my behind.

The driver definitely knows now what we’re doing.

‘Quiet, baby girl,’ he grunts, ‘otherwise this pretty ass of yours is gonna be very red and very painful for you to sit on.’

I nod, as I resit on his lap a little, causing the vibrator to shift a bit and it hits the exact right spot. Keeping it quiet is nearly impossible, especially because he has been teasing me the entire night. His hand lands on my ass again and again and again. ‘What did I just say?’

‘Sorry, daddy, it’s just that… I’m so close.’ I am already clenching around the toy and Henry kisses me to stop me from making to much noise. It’s barely working, as I ride out my high on his lap. He turns off the vibrator with a smile and his finger exits from my tight hole. He helps me in my coat and says: ‘I believe we’re almost home.’

With nothing but a very short coat on and the vibrator still buried deep inside of me, the two of us get out of the limo. I avoid eye contact with the driver, who despite his own best efforts, can’t hide the fact that he knows exactly what happened back there. After Henry gave him a ridiculously large tip, we walk towards the entrance of our building. It’s freezing cold and it’s not helping that the insides of my thighs are still a bit wet.

We step into the elevator and Henry stands behind me, his hand on my side, as a group of business men and women also step in. They are loud, meaning that Henry could easily turn on the vibrator and no one would notice.

Great minds must think alike, because he turns it on. I somehow manage to keep it sort of together, but it’s hard, especially with the way I feel my hardened nipples rub against the inside of my coat and Henry’s noticeable bulge pressed against my butt.

The carpet all of the sudden has all my attention.

The group steps off on the second floor and that leaves just the two of us. Henry steps in front of me, blocking the entrance as his hands slips underneath the hem of the coat. He pats my bare bottom a few times. ‘Good girl,’ he whispers.

‘Daddy,’ I whimper, ‘I’m close again.’

‘You better hold it.’

With the vibrator still on, I manage to wobble to the door of our apartment. The second the door closes, Henry nearly rips off my coat and cages me in between his arms and the wall. ‘Fuck, how did I get so lucky? You did well, baby girl. Daddy is so proud of you.’

‘Please,’ I beg, nearly in tears, ‘can I cum now?’

He gives me a soft peck on my lips, a sweet gesture compared to what he has been doing all night. ‘Of course.’

My legs start to shake, as I wrap my arms around his neck to keep me standing up. My eyes roll back, as the familiar feeling washes over me. ‘Oh daddy,’ I moan out, as I feel my juices squirt passed the vibrating egg, down my legs onto the floor. It’s all becoming too much, so I reach down to grab the string and pull it out.

As I’m panting, Henry seizes my wrist. ‘What did you do?’ he asks, turning the vibrator off. ‘Tell me, what did you do?’

Oh shit, I think something bad. ‘I couldn’t take it anymore, daddy.’

‘Then why didn’t you safe word?’

Why didn’t I? ‘I don’t know,’ I say, but when he cocks his eyebrow, I realize that won’t do. ‘It wasn’t necessary.’

He tsks, a sound he barely makes. ‘I’m disappointed in you, baby girl.’ He drags me with him to the bedroom and pushes me on the bed. Not gonna lie, this is turning me on way more than I originally expected. He holds my chin in between his fingers, as he forces me to look up. ‘If you don’t like something anymore,’ he says in a dangerously low tone, ‘then you safe word. But never ever take matters into your own hands like that.’

Fuck, this alone nearly causes my next orgasm. ‘I’m sorry, daddy.’

‘You’re damn right you’re sorry.’ He unbuttons his shirt, revealing his broad chest that over the course of the last few weeks only got broader and stronger. ‘And I’m gonna teach you a little lesson, baby girl.’

✤ ✤ ✤

After I don’t know how many orgasms with the vibrators (yes, plural), he turns them both off as I try to catch my breath. Him plunging my beloved vibrator deep inside of me. Him pressing the other one onto my super sensitive clit. He was torturing me, making me cum over and over and over again. Trying to teach me a lesson. The wet covers of the bed are the evidence of how many times I already came. He was slightly pissed at me, but also continued to whisper that I could safe word whenever I needed to.

Henry sits in between my legs and without much teasing or preparation enters me, burying himself deep inside of me. A gasp escapes my lips, as his girth is a world apart from the vibrator. He pushes his heavy chest onto mine, grabbing my hands and holding them with just one of his above my head.

Henry has never done such thing. Never took he this much control, never was he like this. But then again, never did I do something that would disappoint him. His lips are dangerously close and he says: ‘Tell me baby girl, whose pussy is this?’

What a question, but I know the answer. ‘Yours,’ I whisper. ‘Daddy, I’m so sorry.’

‘If you can’t take it anymore,’ he continues, ‘now or in the future, then you safe word. Promise me that.’

‘Yes, yes, yes, I promise.’

Henry gives me a kiss. It’s such a gentle move after the insane orgasm overstimulation act he just preformed on me. The throbbing pain is overruled by the sheer pleasure I feel of his thick length deep inside of me. ‘Are you gonna be a good girl for daddy?’

‘I will, I will. Always.’

His thrusts are slow, allowing me to take him all in and get used to his length. With every thrust, he brushes against my extremely sensitive clit, earning him soft whimper like moans. His lips press attentive kisses on my lips. ‘Good girl,’ he praises me, ‘such a good girl.’

My mind is so cloudy and foggy, but his lovely words still make an impact. ‘I love you.’

Henry smiles. ‘I love you too, baby girl. Fuck, I love you so much.’

He slowly speeds up his thrusts, only for him to become a lot rougher too. The room is filled with indecent and vulgar sounds, but that doesn’t stop him. No, it even encourages him more. Henry doesn’t stop, not even as I turn into a crying and sobbing mess underneath him.

I know what to do when it gets too much and while it definitely feels like too much, I love how he uses me like this. He is the only one that I’ll ever allow to do this. He is the only one who can have this much control over me.

My legs start to quiver and I don’t even have to tell him that I’m close. My vision turns completely white for a few moments, as I cry out. ‘Fuck!’

‘I know baby, I know. I’m close.’ The sound he makes as he bottoms out, painting me from the inside, is probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. He crashes on top of me, making sure he doesn’t crush me under his weight. ‘You did well,’ he says with a proud smile. ‘Are you okay? I was’t too rough on you, was I?’

I try to catch my breath, but I shake my head. ‘No, no, you weren’t. Don’t you worry. I’m so sorry,’ I sniffle.

He pushes some hairs out of my face and gives me a kiss. ‘It’s okay.’

‘You’re not mad at me?’ I place my hand in the back of his neck. ‘I didn’t mean to.’

‘Baby, baby, baby,’ he says, ‘I know you didn’t. Just know that whenever you don’t feel good, it’s becoming too much for you, you safe word. I need you to safe word, baby. Do it for daddy, okay?’

‘Of course, I will,’ I say, swallowing hard. ‘You’re really not mad at me?’

‘Hey, hey, it’s all good,’ he says. ‘I’m not mad at you, never was. Stop worrying about it, okay? Please, baby girl.’

‘I just love you a lot and I hate to disappoint you.’

‘I know you do,’ he says with a smile. ‘I love you a lot as well. And because I’m your boss, I’m willing to give you a day off tomorrow.’

I start to laugh. ‘Oh, how gracious of you.’

‘Want a bath, darling? Or you want to go to the sauna?’

‘Maybe a sauna is nice, and a bath afterwards?’

Henry nods and pulls out, causing me to slightly shiver on the bed. ‘Sit still, okay? I’ll be right out.’

As I am relaxing on the bed, regaining some strength in my legs, Henry walks around, preparing the sauna and I hear he is actually turning on the jacuzzi as well for after the sauna. He carries me out of the bed and whispers he’ll clean the bed later on. He sits on one of the wooden benches, tucking me securely on his lap. I was already sweaty, but despite that, it’s nice to be hugged by the warm air provided by the sauna. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, giving him a kiss in his neck.

His fingertips run up and down my spine. ‘Baby girl, can you tell me why you didn’t safe word?’

‘I don’t know,’ I whisper.

‘You didn’t feel safe enough to do it?’

‘It kinda slipped my mind.’

Henry nods, pressing his lips on my hair line. ‘I only want what’s best for you,’ he says. ‘And if you’re overwhelmed, tell me, okay?’

I nod. ‘I will. I promise.’

✤ ✤ ✤

It’s late by the time the two of us get in bed. Since it’s winter after all, I dressed myself in one of his long sleeved shirts, while my personal heater is in nothing but some boxers. I place my head on his chest and his hand finds mine. He holds my fingers, as his thumb runs over the engagement ring.

‘Honey,’ I say, ‘want to hear about a dream I had the other day?’

‘Always.’

‘I dreamed about having kids last night with you.’

‘Really?’ he asks me. ‘Color me intrigued. What happened in that dream?’

‘Nothing much. Just you and me sitting on a porch, looking over the yard and seeing our kids run around, maybe even a dog.’

‘I keep thinking about that as well,’ he chuckles. ‘The whole idea of having kids with you makes me realize how fortunate I am that you’re gonna be my wife. When do you want to start trying?’

‘Maybe a few months after our wedding? I know that I probably won’t get pregnant straight away after I stopped taking the pill, but I’d like to enjoy a few more months of you and I as a married couple.’

He nods. ‘I agree. It’s just that I can’t wait for you and I to start a family. To spoil you and the children rotten.’

‘But we still have to keep them humble,’ I say. ‘I’m serious, Henry.’

‘Of course, of course,’ he quickly says. ‘They should never take anything for granted.’

I close my eyes, placing my leg over his. ‘Do you think we should move places?’

He nods. ‘Totally, because I want to make that dream of yours come true. I want a yard, so we can build treehouses, have toys scattered all around and what not.’

I smile. It’s like he is reading my mind. ‘When are we gonna start looking for a place?’

‘After the wedding?’ he suggests.

I nod. ‘After the wedding.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x oc #henry cavill x asian ofc #henry cavill x becky kim #sugar daddy!henry cavill #becky kim #asian ofc #sugar sugar #sugar sugar the wedding

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violetsoju · 3 years

Text

overdrive

iwaizumi hajime · fluff · 1.7k

summary: iwaizumi seriously needs to get work done, without his mind going into overdrive

a/n: the product of spending too many nights in the library because i can't get work done back in my room

The reason why Iwaizumi doesn’t like studying in the library open space is because there’s too many people.

High school students hogging seats that are evidently not enough to cater for the university’s own students. Half-zombified students surviving on energy drinks sprawled on the table, escaping reality by taking a catnap. Students with earbuds stuck into their ears, tapping away on their phones or watching videos under the cool air-conditioning instead of the scorching heat outside. Or those who Iwaizumi wonders how they even got accepted into university because they’re clearly illiterate, making sure everyone around them knows what’s on their mind despite the big red ‘quiet please’ sign hanging on the wall next to them.

“It’s distracting.” he grumbles. “How am I supposed to focus with so many people roaming around, not to mention the background noise I didn’t ask for.” The endless flow of people rolling before his eyes has him rubbing his temples in distress.

“It just means that you’re not focused enough, Iwa.” Your eyes never leave the laptop before you, fingers swiftly tapping on your keyboard.

He shoots a glare to your direction. “Why don’t you try sitting in my position and see if you’ll say the same.”

A scoff sounds in the air. “As if it’s not the same on my end.”

Iwaizumi should be used to squeaking noises on the polished concrete surface, given the years of spending most of his youth living in the school gym. But the shuffles and squeaks behind him now has his jaw clenched tight, fingers coiled together.

“Admit it. You’re just distracted by me.”

Two pairs of eyes lock. One with a glint of tease and mischief, one with a glint of exasperation and fatigue.

“As if.” You smirk at his response, clicking your tongue knowingly as you trail your eyes back on the bright laptop screen.

As if you’re the reason why he’s distracted. What absolute nonsense.

But if you’re not, why did he reply so hastily, mouth working faster than his brain, as if he was trying to hide something? As if someone broke the passcode to his closely-guarded safe that safeguards his hidden stash of valuables and treasures?

Is that why he firmly insists on studying in the quiet area, all the way in the deep end of the library, where one is confined to a study pod each? No random humans lurking in sight, just a laptop screen, and three mounted walls enclosing the small yet breathable space. The cries of help from keyboards being murdered mercilessly by the rapid finger smashing filling the air.

A space where everyone has their minds shackled to the device before them, head swimming in overloaded information too much for poor brains. A space where the only distraction is the faint cries only audible to oneself screaming this is too much.

That’s the space Iwaizumi needs to be in. And that’s the only distraction he needs.

Or the only distraction he can afford to have.

Because the rest are definitely too much.

One, in particular, is definitely too much.

His eyes act on their own will, something he can’t hold rein of.

It captures every small detail of the figure seated opposite him. You, to be specific.

The way your brows furrow together in complete concentration. He’s sure that you’ll be the one having wrinkles earlier than him, despite your constant nagging of how he shouldn’t crumple up his face in disgust at the sight of couples making out on campus in broad daylight.

The way you heave out heavy, long sighs every half an hour, like a fire-breathing dragon spouting flames from its mouth. Not as scary as Godzilla though.

The way you rest your temple against your knuckles, gradually tilting sideways like the Leaning Tower of Pisa as your elbows slip further. It’s a miracle you don’t lose balance at that angle.

The way your hand travels downwards towards the side of your neck, knuckles planted behind your ears to keep the weight of your head in place. Sometimes they’re curled together in a straight neat line. Sometimes they trek little lower, tucked under your jaw near to your ear. Sometimes just a finger is all you need to support the mass above your shoulders. Iwaizumi has honestly lost count of the number of poses you can make, which he has to admit, are better than those watch or jewellery models plastered on glossy magazine pages.

When your fingers wrap the side of your neck, or when your fingers splay across your neck and collarbone, he wonders if he can cradle your neck with his hand like a snug pillow. He knows how small your hands are compared to his large ones, how soft your palms are compared to his calloused ones, worn from years of practice. He wonders how it’ll feel against your smooth bare skin.

He wonders if he has his fingers wrapped around the nape of your neck, closing the gap by pulling you towards his chest to feel your heartbeat thumping against his, would your breath hitch, shudder under his touch from the sparks ignited from the sudden difference in skin texture, or would you melt into his touch, into the warmth of his palm that’s just a quarter of the fire in his burning heart that’s set ablaze by you?

When you part your lips to apply lip balm onto your dried lips caused by the low humidity, he wonders which lip balm you’re using today. Is it the normal original one? The peach flavoured one? Or the manuka honey one?

He licks his own dehydrated lips although he knows it would make it worse. When you smack your lips to even out the wax-like substance, he wonders how it feels like, how it tastes like. Does it really taste like peaches? Or like sweet honey dripping from your eyes at the sight of food?

He could find out by reaching out his hand to borrow it from you. But he wonders how it would feel like from your lips, how it would taste directly from your lips.

It’s a childish thought, but using a lip balm that has touched your lips on his is like an indirect kiss. High-school Iwaizumi would be a blushing mess at the thought. But Iwaizumi is all grown up now. If he were to want a kiss, he would want a direct kiss. Lips on lips. Flesh on flesh. Nothing in between.

But he remembers that his lips are slightly dry and chapped, which would be such a turnoff to mould it with your moist plump ones. But what better way to moisturise one’s lips with another?

When you tap your lips, deep in thought – as if taunting his previous thoughts – he wonders if he’s ever met anyone who does that instead of tapping their chin. And when you jab your thumb on your lower lip, knuckles brushing your upper lip, he wonders how your lips feel like. He has wiped away food stains from the side of your lips numerous times, but it was always the napkins that had the honour of gracing your skin. Are they as soft and plush as they seem?

Are they as dreamy and kissable as they seem?

He wants to find out for himself, to feel for himself. He wants to trace the curves of your lips with his fingertips, to feel each line carved on your lips, to memorise each slope and dip of your lips. If he can’t use his sense of taste to recognise your lips, at least he’ll know it’s you with his sense of touch.

Oh, just when he thinks that you look good in a certain lipstick colour, you prove him otherwise when you appear with a different shade the next day. It’s funny how all the shades of red and coral displayed look disturbingly identical in the shops you drag him into, but he can tell at first sight that they’re a different shade when it’s on your lips. He always finds it amazing how you blend different tones together to make your already desirable lips more alluring. It isn’t the colour that brings out the extra shine in you; it’s you who brings the pop of colour alive.

And he wonders how that pop of colour would look like on his bronze skin tone.

When you run your fingers through your hair in frustration, he wonders how it’ll feel like if those were his fingers. He’d run through them gently, soothing them out affectionately. He’d comb through each strand of hair with his fingers delicately.

He wonders how it’ll feel like with your fingers running through his hair, featherlike fingers caressing his scalp tenderly. It’s such a soft gesture that melts even the toughest of hearts. He wonders if you would tug his hair, if you would curl your fingers over his short cut. Would it be in playful manner? Or a desperate manner? Most importantly, when, why and where you would do that.

Let’s not get started on how your tongue peeks out the side of your mouth, running along your sharp yet cute fang teeth that could shred one into pieces. Or when you stick out your tongue teasingly at him when you catch him staring.

What’cha looking at? Eyes on the laptop, not me.

It’s a cute harmless gesture for you, but god knows how it’s a gesture drives his mind into overdrive. Something you're not ready to know about, yet.

There are too many wondering thoughts, thoughts deemed unnecessary and distracting when he’s with you. That’s why he insists on having a barrier wedged between the both of you, especially when he needs to get actual shit done. All he can see now is the crown of your head, and your sneakers beneath the table that are a few inches away from his. That’s all he needs and can handle on his plate right now.

Right now, there’s more important things to be done. Not that you’re not important. If you’re not important, you wouldn’t be driving him up the wall with such subtle movements and gestures.

Important things that require his attention right here, right now are things like the two thousand essay that’s due tomorrow. The e-mail from his professor regarding the group assignment progress that he has yet to reply. The mini army of tabs armed with journal articles waiting to be read.

Like any other day, Iwaizumi hopes and prays that his mind will cooperate with him to set gear into the right direction. If he could put off pouring his heart out for so many years, then these crazy yet valid thoughts could wait too.

He knows they’ll be worth the wait too.

#iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime x y/n #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime fluff #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu scenarios #iwaizumi scenarios #hq imagines #hq scenarios #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi headcanons #iwaizumi hcs #iwaizumi oneshot

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wonder-womans-ex · 3 years

Text

Conversations, Conversations, in the Early Morning Glow

Of all the things James was expecting to see today, Sirius Black sitting on his couch at five-thirty in the morning was certainly not one of them.

He had been prepared to get up early, make some coffee and maybe an omelette, and head out for a quick jog before practice. But when he turned on the light, there Sirius was, one leg propped up over his knee, fingers drumming nervously on the sole of his shoe.

Sirius looked up. They stared at each other for a moment, and then James took off his glasses and put them back on again. “Hello,” he said.

Sirius bothered with none of the preamble. “How do you tell someone you’re in love with them?”

“What the fuck?”

“I’m in love with someone and I want to tell them so, but I don’t know how.”

After taking a moment to process this information, James walked over to the kitchen. “I need caffeine for this conversation,” he said, glancing backward over his shoulder. “Want a coffee?”

“I—yeah. Sure. No sugar—”

“Lots of milk. I know.”

They grinned at each other, but Sirius’s smile was slightly… off. There was something tense about it, almost like he was holding back.

The coffee machine whirred quietly to life, red light blinking on, and James grabbed two mugs from the cupboard: the WORLD’S BEST DAD one Kuny had given him after Harry’s birth, and the one with the rubber ducks Sirius always used. He filled the kettle with water, flipped the switch on the side, and finally spun around to face his friend.

Sirius had hopped up to sit on the counter and was swinging his legs slightly, bumping them in turns against the dishwasher; his gaze was focused somewhere on the floor in front of him. James paused for a moment before walking over and sitting beside him. “If Lily catches us, we’re both toast,” he said, finally, trying to lighten the mood. The corners of Sirius’s lips twitched up only slightly, and that was when James knew something was truly bothering him.

“So.” The two of them took a breath almost in unison. “I’m going to need some backstory here. Are you in a relationship with this person? Are you merely admiring from afar?”

“In a relationship.”

No matter what he had asked, James had assumed Sirius was merely harbouring a crush. He’d thought that surely, if Sirius was dating someone, he’d say something about it. “You have a girlfriend? And you didn’t tell me?”

“That’s the other thing.” A pause, like he was working up the courage to say something. “I’m gay, James.”

For the second time that morning, James took a moment to process this. He arranged his face—or tried to, anyway—into an expression that less resembled someone who had recently run into a brick wall, and then he put a reassuring hand on Sirius’s shoulder. “You have a boyfriend? And you didn’t tell me?”

The look of relief Sirius gave him was both immense and immediate. “Well, it’s pretty recent. Only a few months, really—since my birthday—and… I was scared. I’m still scared, but not as much as I was. But I love him. I really, really love him, and I want him to know that.”

Nodding, James slid forward off the counter to pour the now-boiling water into the top of the coffee machine. “Is it anyone I know? Is he from Gryffindor?”

“Yeah, you know him. It’s—well, it’s Loops.”

“Remus?” James jerked his hand backwards, away from the spill of hot water from the kettle. He hissed in pain when a drop landed on his wrist. “Remus Lupin? Our PT?”

“One and the same.” Even without looking, he could hear the smile in Sirius’s voice.

“And you want to tell him you love him?”

“Yeah.”

“And you came to me for advice?”

Sirius leaned over and smacked his arm. “I can’t tell whether you’re insulting yourself or me more.”

“Shut up. But in all ser—sincerity… does he love you, too?”

“I think so,” Sirius said, biting his lip. “I hope he does, anyway. I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t.”

James whistled quietly, not wanting to risk waking Harry. A crying child was the last thing either of them needed. “God, you’ve got it bad, haven’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Look.” James crossed his arms, staring Sirius right in the eyes. “I’m only going to say this once. You are my best friend. You are the third most important person in my life, falling just behind my wife-to-be and my son. If I had to pick one person to be stranded with on a deserted island, the only reason I would not choose you is that I think we would die within a week because neither of us actually has that much common sense. That being said, there are very few situations in which I would not trust you with my life. In the words of the youth, you are my bro.”

“Why is this starting to sound like a marriage proposal?”

“Fuck off. The point is, Pads, you deserve the best of the best. You deserve someone you love and who loves you. If that’s Loops, that’s amazing and I support you. If it ends up not being him, I’ll be here for you, and I’ll make sure any future boyfriends you may have don’t break your heart. Got that?”

For a moment, Sirius said nothing, and James grew more and more worried by the second. “Cap? You okay?”

“No, I’m not okay, you fucker; I’m crying.”

“I hope they’re happy tears.”

“What do you think?” Swiping the back of his hand across his eyes, Sirius let a grin spread across his face. “Are we supposed to bro hug now?”

“You know what; why not.” Even just two years ago, they would have put their arms around each other nervously before awkwardly pulling away again (hell, two years ago Sirius probably wouldn’t have suggested it in the first place), but now they were miles past that, James even rubbing a noogie onto the crown of Sirius’s head.

“Coffee machine looks like it’s about to overflow.”

“Oh, thanks.” There was a comfortable silence as James poured out two mugs of coffee and added milk (Sirius’s) and sugar (his own), not broken until Sirius, mug in hand, said quietly, “How do you think I should tell him?”

“Well, my advice, which is flawed at the best of times, would be to just tell him. But if you were planning on doing that, then chances are you wouldn’t have come to me in the first place.”

“I want it to be… I dunno. Romantic.” Sirius raised his coffee to his lips, taking a sip. “This is the worst coffee I have ever had in my life.”

“Well, duh. For the romantic part, I mean. Not the coffee.”

Laughing under his breath, Sirius poked him. “Try it. It sucks.”

“It does not—oh.”

“Told you so.”

James was halfway through pouring his coffee down the drain when Sirius’s phone rang. Both men froze.

“Who is it?”

Sirius fished the phone out of his pocket, checking the caller ID. He visibly relaxed at what he saw, swiping up to answer. “It’s Remus,” he whispered.

It was only thanks to the silence of the house that James could hear the voice on the other end of the line.

“Baby?” Remus asked. “I’m, uh, I’m at your house—I bused—and, um, your car’s not here.”

“Oh, fuck, is it six already?”

“Yeah.” After a moment, he added, “Where are you?”

“At the Potters’. I’m with James.”

“Are you okay?”

A smile flickered over Sirius’s face. “Yeah. I’m great. I… I came out to him.”

James held his breath until—”Oh,” said Remus.

“Oh? Is that—is that okay? Should I have waited—”

“No, no, of course not,” Remus assured him, the emotion in his voice audible even through the speaker. “I’m just surprised. And I’m proud. God, baby, I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“I’m proud of me, too.”

“As you should be. Hey, I’m hugging you right now. You feel that? That’s my arms. And now I’m kissing you. Okay?”

Sirius actually giggled, a sound James had never heard him make before. “I’m kissing you back.”

James wasn’t sure whether he grabbed the phone to put at least a temporary stop to all the mushiness, or whether his intention stayed the same all along. In any case, the first thing he said after wresting it out of Sirius’s grasp and pressing it to his own ear was “If you hurt my bro, I’ll kill you.”

“Hi, James.”

“Got it?”

“Yeah, I got it. But between you and me—and Sirius, I guess, ‘cause he’s probably listening, too—if I ever hurt him, I think I’d die before you even chose your weapon.”

When James glanced over, he saw that Sirius’s eyes were shining.

“Oh,” Remus added. “And please send Cap back over here. He’s not just my boyfriend; he’s my ride to practice.”

“You got it.” He waited until Remus hung up to say, “Hey, Sirius?”

Sirius took the phone when James held it out to him. “Yeah?”

“Get out of my house and go get your man.”

“Oui.” He slid off the countertop, landing on the floor with a slight thud.

“Oh, and one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“What Loops said? Over the phone? If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

He got a grin for that, but he also got an elbow in the ribs as Sirius passed by him. “I’m going to tell him. Today.”

“You do that.”

“Wish me luck. I’ll see you at practice.”

“See you,” James said, leaning against the doorframe. “And you’ve already got all the luck you need.”

***

He hadn’t forgotten. He really hadn’t. He’d just had a lot on his mind, and Sirius’s promise of ‘today’ was pushed to the back. But when Cap’s car pulled into the parking lot with Loops in the passenger’s seat, it was brought immediately to the front again. He watched as they shared a warm, private smile, eyes not breaking contact for almost ten seconds.

As soon as they walked through the arena doors, James was there to ambush them. “Good morning, gentlemen.”

“Wipe that smirk off your face.”

“Well, we are temperamental today.”

“It’s because of your godawful coffee.”

“Touché.”

Sirius smacked his arm. “I’m serious—and please don’t make that pun. I would like to be left alone with my boyfriend, with whom I am very much in love.”

“All right, all right!” James said, raising his arms in mock surrender. Go make out in the PT room; I won’t stop you.”

Remus smiled when Sirius turned to him. “Yeah, sure, we can do that later. You go ahead—I need to talk to Pots for a sec.”

“‘Kay. Love ya.”

“Love you, too.”

Waiting until Sirius disappeared down the hallway to speak, Remus pursed his lips, trying to smother a grin. “Thank you,” he said, finally. “That—how accepting you are, I mean—means a lot to him.”

“I know.”

“No, really. You were the first… you’re the only person he’s told, other than me. Coming out to you—it really goes to show how much more comfortable he is with himself. When we got together… well, he’s really come a long way.”

James waited for a moment, sorting through the emotions in his head. “The thing is… I made him feel like I wouldn’t be accepting. This morning, when we were talking, he said he was scared. I’m part of the reason he was scared.”

Already, Remus was shaking his head. “He wasn’t scared you wouldn’t be accepting; he was scared of other people finding out. No, not of you telling people. Just that they’d find out.”

“That literally makes no sense.”

“Look, James, the way he grew up—if there’s one thing he learned it’s that if you tell one, you’ve told them all. He came out when he was ready to come out. Maybe not to the world—not yet—but to you.”

He nodded slowly. “I think I’ve got it. Oh—and, Remus?”

“Yeah?”

“He makes you really happy, doesn’t he?”

“Really happy.” Even without the words, Remus’s grin would have said it all.

“You make him happy, too. Happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.”

“Thanks—”

“Don’t mess it up.”

Remus laughed. “I should have known. Trust me, though, Pots; I’ve got no intention too.”

That seemed to be that—James made his way to the locker room, catching Sirius’s eyes upon entry and winking. Sirius simply rolled his eyes and walked over, bumping their shoulders together. “What did you guys talk about?”

James didn’t even try to lie. “You, mostly.”

“Should have guessed.” Glancing away briefly, Sirius lowered his voice to barely more than a whisper. “Thanks, by the way.”

“For what?”

“Bullying me into telling Loops I love him?”

“Eh, that was mostly you. I just kind of stood there and let you talk at me.”

“Fuck off.”

“Really, though.” James was only partly joking when he added, “I’ll be here for you again when you want to propose.”

A red flush spread across Sirius’s cheeks. “Maybe not for a while yet,” he said, smiling straight ahead at the jersey hanging in his locker. “But someday.”

#james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #sweater weather lumosinlove #coops #james potter is a good friend #coming out #tw food mention #tw minor injury #what even is a timeline honestly

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talesofstyles · 4 years

Text

The Law of Attraction

buckle up my little ballsacks you’re in for a treat. this is pure lawyer harry filth. honestly i’ve got no excuse.

massive massive thank you to @smokeinherperfume for letting me ramble about lawyer harry 24/7 and @for-fucks-sake-h for allllll the knife emojis FGHSHSGSGH ILY 🥺💛

p.s. all of my fics about lawyer harry are standalones so you don’t have to read them in order. but just fyi technically this one happens after Quid Pro Quo. hope you like it! xx

An orgasm crashes through YN’s body, causing her back to arch in her chair and her fingers to tug hard at the hair of the man who’s working his tongue between her legs. It’s half three on a Wednesday, and instead of skimming through stacks of her clients’ contracts trying to find loopholes or go through the first set of Interrogatories once again before she sends it to the opposing counsel later today; she’s got her former-nemesis-turned-best-friend kneeling before her chair, her skirt hiked up around her waist and her knickers haphazardly pulled to the side. She lets out a groan, which only eggs him on, and he lashes his tongue against her even harder.

“Enough,” she mutters weakly, her voice barely audible and she’s not even sure if he even heard it. She pushes his head away from her, but the stubborn sod only swats her hands away while growling and doubles up on his efforts. She can feel him shaking his head as he licks and sucks away, slipping his finger deep inside her the second she closes her eyes and proceeds to bring her to another shattering orgasm in just under two minutes.

She slaps her hand over her mouth as she reaches her high again, and Harry looks at her with a satisfied smile, before licking his shiny wet lips without breaking eye contact. The sight alone is almost enough to make her want to shove his head back to where it was half a minute ago. “Feel better?”

“Mhm,” she hums happily and Harry’s lips quirk into a gentle smirk. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” he replies as he stands up, before leaning over to button their lips together in a quick kiss.

“I think the pleasure’s all mine, but let’s rectify that,” she mutters as she pulls away. “What do you want? You tell me and I’ll give it to you. Do you want me to get you off slowly or do you want to fuck my mouth?”

“Fuck,” he groans in frustration. “You’re gonna kill me here. I’ve got a deposition in- shit, two minutes. I’ve got to go now. Catch ya later doll.”

She shakes her head, chuckling as she watches him rushing out of her office. “Later, shithead.”

Isn’t it just funny how the universe works sometimes? Six months ago they couldn’t even be in the same room without having a scream-whisper match, but here they are half a year later, happily handing each other orgasms like sweets on Halloween. Harry didn’t even know exactly what was bothering her today. He just sensed that she was in a real mood when he swung by her office, so instead of splitting a packet of KitKats right on the dot at three o’clock like usual, he closed the door and switched on the panel by the door so the transparent glass wall turned translucent to give them privacy, and then he went down on her without saying another word.

The perks of being friends instead of foes with Harry is that she gets to find out that Harry’s oral skills are not limited to advocacy and sarcasm. And not to mention that he’s a very generous man. Sure, it’s not a trait particularly needed in a best friend and colleague, but fuck if that’s not something that is much appreciated. At first, obviously it wasn’t easy for YN to hang the white flag above her head. Her ego was badly bruised when the firm made Harry Senior Partner instead of her in the beginning of the year, making her feel that all the long hours and the all-nighters she’d pulled were all for nothing. She felt like she gave up her social life for nothing, basically put her life on hold for nothing and gave her all to her firm for nothing. She felt unappreciated, and the easiest target to channel all her anger and frustration was Harry. Because come on, who else was she supposed to be mad at? Her boss? It’d be like being mad at Gandhi.

It definitely got much easier when she finally let the resentment go, the fact that he was the one being promoted. Especially knowing well the reason was only because he came from a bigger law firm, and that he came bearing gifts—the gifts being five huge clients from his old firm—when he came into her firm earlier this year. She’s accepted the fact that him being promoted instead of her doesn’t mean that she’s not a damn good lawyer. Hell, she’s got a hundred percent win record to prove that. It was easier to hate him when she didn’t know him, but as they began working on cases together and she got the chance to get to know him more, she knew he deserved it.

If you ask YN, she’d most likely tell you that having a work husband surely beats having an enemy in the office. She loves having Harry as her best friend, her most trusted legal confidant when she needs to strategise on a case and well, as an occasional lover on a bad day. He is her number one ally and advisor, the person she can laugh with and be stressed with, have politically incorrect conversations with, and give her bone-deep honest opinions to. He supports her and helps her with her cases—not that she needs help because again, she’s one hell of a lawyer, but it’s surely nice to have an extra brain in the case sometimes.

Fuck, she really does owe Harry a good one tonight for giving her a nice distraction.

A ding sound from her phone brings her back to reality. She darts her eyes at her phone for a second, and she lets out a heavy sigh when she reads the name on the screen. It’s a text to confirm the dinner meeting tonight at The Berkeley, definitely one that she can’t avoid since he’s a huge client, but more importantly, one that she dreads to meet.

You see, there’s a large part of life that we call normalcy. Eat, sleep, take a shower. Wearing underwear inside our clothes instead of outside like Batman and Superman. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Most people drink coffee in the morning. Thirty minutes of cardio three times a week.

As pathetic as this may sound, pining for Luke, that said client who also happens to be her ex-boyfriend has been YN’s normalcy for the past two years. Luckily, his company is her client and not the man himself so she got away with keeping contact to a bare minimum. Meeting him only about two to three times a year and only when it’s absolutely necessary and cannot be handled by his General Counsel. But apparently, his step-father decided to retire and pass his hotel business to him—honestly, as if he’s not bloody minted already—and he needs her now more than ever because even though he knows his way around the business world, this whole thing is a new territory for him.

This is the second time in a week that he’s arranged a meeting and only God knows how many more meetings with him she could take. Because, as always, his presence means the absence of her sanity. And she hates it.

Welcome to YN’s fucked up life.

***

“I still don’t know why you want me to go with you,” Harry says, turning to look at her when they stop at a red light. Even though it’s dark outside, the neon-blue lights from the interior electronics cast the angles of his face handsomely.

He’s driving both himself and YN to The Berkeley where they’ll be meeting Luke for a dinner meeting to discuss his new business and his plan to merge with another hotel group. Which is an absolutely terrible idea and YN plans to talk him out of it tonight. It’s probably easier said than done though, because she knows Luke and she’s definitely familiar with how stubborn he can be.

There are a lot of things about Luke that she still remembers. He pretends to hate those mini chocolate muffins but he actually loves them. He drinks his coffee at six thirty sharp every morning, yes, even on the weekends. He loves jogging and sometimes he wishes he’s an athlete so that he can get paid just to run and play football all day long. Even though he’s rich as sin—and God, fit as fuck too—he’s humble and definitely not flashy, so if you see him without his suits, you’d probably never guess that he doesn’t actually need to work a day in his life because he comes from old money. But Luke is different. He never touched his trust fund and he was determined to create his own business from scratch.

He’d just started his business around the same time YN started working in her firm as an associate, so she saw it right before her eyes how hard he worked during those first few years as he nurtured his business. His company was one of the first clients that she’d been assigned to work on, and when she got promoted to Junior Partner, her mentor gave her The White Company as her first official client. The timing couldn’t be more brilliant since she and Luke just broke up two days prior, but she knew there was no way she could turn down such a big business.

Fuck, she’s thinking about him again. She immediately makes a mental note in her head to ask Harry for an extra orgasm tonight to keep him out of her mind. But now she can’t help snickering at the thought because she makes it sounds as if she’s asking for extra ketchup.

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks and she turns to look at him. He gives her a tiny smirk before his eyes get back on the road, but he reaches his hand out to her bare knee to give her a squeeze. “Still haven’t answered me, doll.”

“Sorry- what did you ask?”

“Why did you want me to go with you?” He asks again. “He wants to merge, right? That’s totally your thing. You don’t need me.”

“You helped me with his crisis a few months ago,” she reminds him. “Just thought we could do his business together again. He’ll be happy he’s getting two partners, the firm will be happy because they can charge double. It’s a win-win, really.”

“Bollocks that,” Harry laughs. “Worst bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

“That’s all, honest,” she feigns innocence.

“Honey, I didn’t go through law school for nothing, did I?” He replies without moving his head, keeping his eyes on the road. “You’re using me as a human condom, aren’t you?”

“What the hell does that even mean?” She drops her jaw in shock at the fact that he calls her out on the carpet just like that.

“You’re afraid you’ll catch feelings again if you’re left alone with him, so you bring me as a shield. Am I right?” He asks her with an accusatory eyebrow raise. “You know what, no need to answer that. Of course I’m right.”

“I told you, he’s just a client now,” she insists, trying to ignore her heart pounding in her chest as Harry’s hand inches its way up her thigh. It’s incredibly arousing, but she also finds it a little disturbing since they’re having a conversation about a man she’s head over heels for. She almost want him to stop but fuck if she’s going to ask him.

“Look, I don’t know exactly what’s going on here,” he says, and it’s really hard for her to concentrate on what he’s saying since he’s squeezing her thigh. His fingers pressing deep into her muscles and she can only wish they’re a few inches higher. “But if in any way you want to get him back, just say the word and I’ll back away, yeah?”

“There’s nothing going on, Harry,” she reassures him. “You’ve got to trust me on this. He’s just a client now.”

“You sure?” Harry asks again. Turning to look at her briefly before he pulls into a parking space and puts the car in park, but she can tell by the tone in his voice that he doesn’t buy a single thing she’s said.

“I’m sure,” she nods reassuringly.

Harry grins as he reaches up and tweaks her on the nose. “You’re cute when you lie.”

“Shut up, shithead,” she mutters as she pulls on the door handle. It opens and she steps out, taking a moment to smooth down her dress. Leaning back down, she looks inside the car to look at Harry and give him a wink. “Now let’s go. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can reciprocate.”

***

“You have it bad for him, don’t you?” Harry cocks an eyebrow at her accusingly, not even bothering to wait until Luke disappears past the lift to take a call.

YN blinks in surprise at his accusation, but instead of denying it for the second time tonight, she finally concedes. “Is it that obvious?”

“Holy shit,” this time, it’s Harry’s turn to look at her in surprise. He definitely wasn’t expecting her to admit it, but fuck if he believed that bullshit she told him in the car. “No, it’s not obvious. But I know you better than anyone in this room.”

She chuckles, before taking a swig of her Chardonnay. “True.”

“I meant what I said earlier in the car,” Harry reminds her. “Just say the word and I’ll back away. He’s probably still into you too.”

She just stares at him for a second. She’s obviously contemplating something, he can tell. He braces, wondering if she’ll finally tell him to back away. He has to remind himself to be cool, to just nod and smile if she actually does say that. They’re not exclusive, and as amazing as this last six months has been, he knows all good things come to an end. He has no absolute reason to be upset, he knows that. And as her best friend he only wants the best for her. If she thinks Luke can make her happy, then so be it.

He’s ready for her to tell him to back away. He does. Not saying that he’ll be happy, but he’ll accept it. So imagine his surprise when she gives him a smirk and says, “let’s go all the way tonight.”

Harry’s head shoots up, and he narrows his eyes at her. “You fucking with me?”

“I was hoping you’d be the one doing all the fucking,” she murmurs, still smiling coyly at him and somehow has the audacity to dip her eyes in a completely fake showing of shyness.

Harry’s eight-inch piece of equipment that had been jumping and twitching like an excited puppy now goes to full mast, pushing hard against his zipper. He drains the rest of his drink in one big gulp, not wanting to waste any time. “Stay here and wait for him to finish that sodding call. Make up an excuse for me and distract him while I go and try to get us a room upstairs.”

“You do realise that my flat is literally ten minutes away from here right? And your place is like, what, twenty minutes tops?”

“Upstairs is closer,” he lowers his voice huskily. “They have beds too.”

Her eyes sparkle with excitement. “Beds, huh?”

“What? Don’t fancy shaggin’ on a bed?” He says with a smirk, sitting straighter as he smooths his tie. “I’ll see if they’ve got anything with a balcony then.”

“You’re a lawyer, aren’t you?” She mocks, rolling her eyes. “Does the word indecent exposure mean anything to you?”

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?”

“I did,” she challenges him with a spark of defiance in her eyes. “And what are you gonna do about it?”

“Do that again and you’ll get the palm of my hand,” he tells her ominously.

“You’re all mouth and no trousers, Styles,” she taunts him.

“Good luck trying to sit tomorrow.”

***

In less than fifteen minutes, YN is standing in a lift with Harry’s lips roaming her neck and his finger sinking deep inside of her.

She didn’t have to make up an excuse when Luke went back to their table after taking the call. Apparently, there was some emergency and he needed to get back to his office as soon as possible for an emergency meeting with the boards. She assured him it was fine and that they could easily arrange another meeting to further talk about his plan to merge with another hotel group.

Harry doesn’t waste much time as he pushes the button to their floor and the doors close. He stalks towards her, cupping her head to bring her mouth to his, and his other hand going directly between her legs. She slips her tongue into his mouth and touches it against his, the vibe of the kiss turning a bit dirty. It’s a thrilling turn on, causing waves of pleasure to pulse through both of them. His tongue ends up dominating hers in the most searing, sexually explosive kiss she’d ever been given.

His hand softly fondles her for a moment, and then he’s inside of her, curling his finger in a way that has her knees buckling. He immediately saves the day by pushing one of his legs in between hers to hold her steady. He knows he doesn’t have time to get her off before they reach their floor, so he breaks the kiss and roams his lips along her neck lightly, moving his finger in and out of her leisurely but so very deeply. Her hips flex against him, trying to demand more, but she’s just going to have to wait.

When the lift starts to slow near their floor, he calmly removes his hand, smoothes her dress down, and gives her a light kiss on the nose.

He’s smiling at her as he closes the door behind them, in a completely relaxed, but thank fuck we’re finally doing this and I’m here to fuck you senseless kind of way, and it manages to show the two dimples he sports on either side of his full lips.

Their lips meet again as he leans in, softly at first, just a taste to whet the appetite. His arms tighten around her, and he increases the pressure, urging her to open up and let him in. He’s a force to be reckoned with in a courtroom, and fuck if she’s not thanking her lucky stars that he’s just the same in the bedroom. He moves his lips against hers, making delicious little thrusts and flicks with his tongue, teasing and tantalising, all while stroking her back in the most incredibly sensual way that makes her tingling from head to toe.

He loves how she just melts against him when he rubs her back, and how adorably dazed she looks just from a kiss. Grinning at her, he reaches a finger out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. The blood in his dick thumps, eagerly demanding to move things along, but he’s determined to take his time with her.

Her mouth waters as her hands work at his belt buckle. His cock is thick and hard when she pulls him free of his boxer briefs, and she drops to her knees with her hand wrapped around his girth. It’s standing straight up before her after she releases it for a second, and she melts at the sight. There’s one perfectly thick vein running straight up the middle, but then it veers off at an angle. And although this is certainly not the first time she sees it, she can’t help but cock her head to the side just to see where it goes.

He palms the side of her head with one hand and holds her hair in a ponytail at the back of her head with the other. Looking up at him, she can see his jaw is locked tight and his chest is rising and falling rapidly.

She squeezes him hard, just the way she knows how he likes, and strokes up and down a few times, making him groan. His head falls back, eyes squeezed shut. “Please, sweetheart.”

“Ssh,” she shushes him before she murmurs low in her throat. “I’ve got you.”

She finally opens her mouth, bares her teeth slightly, and then scrapes them lightly over the tip. A long, deep groan rumbles out of him, his eyes remain shut tight. Exhilaration and victory swells within her, knowing that just that one tiny touch reduced him to utter helplessness.

He opens his eyes, gazing at her. His voice is thickened and gruff when he says, “you’ve got no idea how beautiful you look while on your knees before me.”

She responds to him by leaning in, and without hesitation taking the tip of him into her mouth, making him groan in relief. He grips her lightly, his fingers pressing into her scalp as a means of holding her steady and not to force action. She licks and sucks, squeezing and stroking him with her hand. He’s watching her from above with lust on his face, and she’s savouring every little groan she drags out of this normally stoic man. She flutters her tongue on the sensitive underside just below the head of his cock, her hand gently squeezing his balls as she works his shaft.

“Been dying to get that cherry lipstick on my cock,” he mutters softly, she can barely hear him. He grits his teeth as he slowly pulls out of her mouth. “Knew that red lipstick would look good on me.”

Her eyes slide to his cock, and she has no clue what her mouth looks like, but she’s absolutely sure most of her lipstick is gone since it’s smeared beautifully along the length of his shaft. She tries to take it back into her mouth, determined to bring him into completion that way, but his hand immediately covers her, holding her still while his eyes pin her in place. “Wanna be inside you.”

He helps her stand on her feet, and the next thing she knows, her dress pools around her ankle. His hands come to the back of her bra, flicking it open and pulling it from her. Then he drops to his knees before her. Fingers going under her knickers, he pulls them down just enough to gain access and runs his tongue up her centre.

He had fantasised about her naked before him more times than he could probably admit that he has to blink twice to convince himself that this time is real. And fuck if it isn’t much better than his dreams.

“Bed,” he commands, and she crawls on it with the intent to lay in a sexy pose as she turns over to face him, but he’s on the bed with her, quick as lightning, and flips her to her back.

Her eyes go up to find him staring at her tits, and she can’t help but joke. “They don’t bite, you know.”

His gaze comes up to meet hers, and his lips curve slightly. “But I do. It’s probably going to hurt a little.”

A shudder ripples through her, and her nipples harden. His eyes flick back down to her breasts. She swallows hard at the anticipation, the thought of him getting a little rough with them is thrilling, but there’s something else she wants more right now.

“I’m fucking dying to be inside you right now,” he whispers in her ear. His admission elicits a deep moan to escape from her lips. “Last chance to change your mind, doll.”

“Please just fuck me already,” she whimpers, her hands roaming his body. Every glide of her fingers over his skin fills him with a fullness he’s never experienced before. “I’m losing my mind.”

With one hand pressed into the mattress, Harry uses the other to take his cock in hand. He dips his hips, pressing the tip right into her entrance. Blowing out a breath, he brings his eyes to hers and holds her captive, finally thrusts deeply into her. She screams, not in pain but in pure fucking ecstasy, as he fills her up. Harry bottoms out, his pelvis pressed hard into hers.

Baring his teeth, he mutters, “fuck… that feels good.”

“Would feel better if you move,” she suggests with a smirk.

Harry stays completely still inside of her. He breathes in deeply, closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them up again, he gives her a sheepish grin. “I’m afraid to move. Afraid I might embarrass myself and blow my load in about two nanoseconds.”

She lets out a giggle, pretty sure that’s the one and only time in her life she’s ever done something so girly. Harry laughs huskily and kisses her hard. He doesn’t move an inch from his waist down but just kisses her deeply with thorough possession. When he pulls away, he tentatively circles his hips, grinding into her.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, and drops his forehead to hers. “Yeah… definitely not gonna last long.”

Her hands go into his hair and she massages his scalp, incredibly touched and turned on over his reaction to her. She tugs on his hair, pulling his face away from hers. “Harry?”

He moves reluctantly and looks down at her with that same abashed look. She tilts her hips, clenches her internal muscles around his cock, and then rubs her thumbs into his scalp.

“Let go,” she commands him softly. “Fuck me hard and come as fast as you want. We’ve got all night.”

***

Harry’s hand reaches out, tapping the screen on his phone to turn the alarm off, laying silently in the predawn gloom pondering about his situation at this very moment.

There’s a naked, beautiful woman on top of him, and fuck if he can remember when was the last time he woke up with someone else in his bed. It’s not that he’s averse to cuddles; if the woman wants a cuddle with him after sex, he’d give it to them. The act of intimacy like that doesn’t scare him whatsoever. But normally he’d be out of their hair long before the sun is up, leaving them to wake up alone and him to start his day as if the night before didn’t happen.

He always tells himself to forget whoever he shags the night before no matter how great of a fuck she was, although he’ll allow himself to bring forth the memories when he jerks off if needed.

YN fell asleep a few hours prior, spread-eagled over his body right after she collapsed from the most recent fuck-fest. She came, he came, then she fell forwards onto his chest and was out like a light. And he left her right there all night. Letting her lie on top of him, calling it a day well completed and went to sleep himself.

His hand slides down from her stomach right between her legs, his fingers swiping through her folds which become slicker with desire the more he plays. She softly moans in her sleep and her lower body starts to squirm. Her breathing hitches, and the second she cracks her eyes open, she gives him that happy, sleepy, please fuck me again smile.

He gently eases her down from the top of his chest to lay beside him, rolling her to the side so her back is facing him. Then he pushes her outer leg up, sliding his body down just a little bit, angling his cock to slip into her from behind.

Harry moves slowly as he’s spooned around her and she moans in pure bliss as he fills her up. The arm that her head is resting on comes up to curve across her chest and hold her tight. His other hand grips the back of her thigh firmly to pin her in place.

“More,” she whispers on a forced exhalation.

“Fuck me,” he mumbles against her hair. “My girl wants more.”

And he gives her more. Fucking her exquisitely and with no doubt that neither of them has ever had it that good. He takes her higher and higher, the sweet words that he’s whispering in her ear is the complete opposite of the kinky shit they did last night.

“Balcony?”

YN didn’t hesitate, following right behind him as he pushed the doors open. A light breeze filters in but it’s still muggy outside. They’re on the seventh floor, and they can still hear the rumble of engines and the honking of horns below them. The quiet darkness of Belgravia stretches out beyond.

Harry walked up to the edge of the balcony, which was made of stone and concrete, sitting about three and a half feet high. He pulled her into his arms and gave her a searing kiss. She moaned, slipping her tongue in his mouth and gripped onto his shoulders. The kiss was deep and wet, and honestly, the best kind of kiss.

He pushed her up against the wall, laying a palm over one breast. Squeezing, plumping, testing the weight in his hand. He rubbed a thumbnail over her nipple, eliciting the softest sigh from her.

He brought his other hand south. Straight shot, right to her centre. Her head dropped to his shoulder as his fingertips continued to circle and rub against her. Within minutes she had his fingers deep inside her and his thumb working her hard. He wanted nothing more than to just line up and push his way in, but he waited. He waited until he saw her trembling became a little fiercer, her body tensed, and when she sucked in a large gulp of air, he knew that was his cue.

He quickly removed his fingers, bracing his hands on her hips and slammed forward. She took him all the way in and he cursed under his breath as he felt her spasm all around him when she came. For a second he thought about hitting it hard, chasing another orgasm, but then he decided against it, wanting to relish the scenery and listen to the sounds of the city.

“Let’s just quit our jobs and fuck all day,” Harry jokes as he drops her leg back down into place.

“Sounds good to me,” she laughs as she reaches around him, grabbing the complimentary bottle of water on the nightstand, taking a sip before she hands it to him and he finishes it in a couple of long swallows.

“Thirsty?”

“Starving too,” he replies in a way that doesn’t make her think he wants some bacon and eggs.

Within seconds, he has her on her back again as he slides down her body, roughly pushing her legs apart. Her hands shoot out, grabbing the sides of his head before he gets the chance to descend even lower. “No.”

“What?”

“Let me get cleaned up first,” she says lamely, pretty sure she’s killed the mood. “I mean… I’m filled with-”

Harry ignores her, cutting her off by dropping his mouth right between her legs and begins sucking. She shrieks from the warm contact, surprised by how sensitive she is, and as he lifts his gaze to hers, he murmurs. “That’s you and me together, and we taste fucking delicious.”

Her body trembles from his words, and through a dry and parched throat she croaks, “then by all means.”

“Thank you,” he says with a wink, then proceeds to bring her to another shattering orgasm that totally wrecks her.

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfiction #lawyer!harry #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fanfics #harry styles x y/n #harry styles one shot

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cuddlepilefics · 3 years

Text

Migraine

Fandom: GOT7

Sickie: Mark

Caregiver: Jackson & Jinyoung

Prompt: @sicktember

No one’s POV.:

Being the quietest member certainly had its perks, Mark realized when he woke up feeling off. He didn’t know what exactly was wrong, so he didn’t want to worry his friends. Throughout breakfast, the oldest had been quiet but nobody thought much of it, as he was always quiet. What Mark didn’t know was that his roommate had noticed. Jackson knew the older very well, as you do after living together for years. He could tell his hyung wasn’t feeling himself, though he couldn’t tell exactly what was wrong or what had given it away. It was more like a gut-feeling, that something wasn’t right. Jackson was relieved that they’d spend the entire day at the studio because he couldn’t imagine Mark would be up for dancing today. They’d have a lot of recording to do, which wasn’t too stressful and consisted mainly of revising lyrics and waiting for their turn to record. Maybe the oldest could take a nap until he had to record and would be fine with just a little more rest. Going back to their room to get ready to head out, Jackson got only more worried. It was his hyung’s clothing choice that stuck out to Jackson like a red flag. Mark had that extremely old and washed-out hoodie, which he had brought from the US when he first came to Korea to train. By now, it was far from fashionable and served more as a comfort item, which the rapper usually wore when he didn’t feel well or was home-sick. Him putting it on now, confirmed the younger’s suspicions.

“Hyung, are you feeling alright?”, Jackson asked, barely stopping the older from leaving their shared room. Mark turned around and looked at him confused, muttering: “Sure, why?” – "You’re wearing that hoodie. You always wear it when you don’t feel good”, Jackson pointed out. Glancing down his outfit, the oldest realized that his dongsaeng was right. He just hadn’t expected anyone to pick up on it. Shrugging, he replied: “I feel a bit off, maybe didn’t sleep enough.” Jackson nodded, not fully buying it but following his hyung to the living room anyway. They waited for everyone else to finish up and then headed out together. During their drive to the studio, Mark started to question himself. Jackson’s comment had sparked his worry. He hadn’t put on that hoodie deliberately, it had just happened on top of already feeling weird. What was going on with him? Being so deep in thought, he didn’t even notice how they pulled up in front of the company building. “Are you coming, hyung?”, Jaebeom’s voice startled him from his thoughts and Mark nodded quickly, wincing when the fast movement caused his head to ache. He quickly climbed out of the vehicle, stumbling a bit before he was able to get his footing. Watching him stumble, Jackson linked their arms and walked him up to their studio. The older couldn’t help but be flustered. He felt fine, right? He didn’t need help to walk.

Jackson was the first one to record with Jaebeom as the producer, so Mark sat with the rest of the members, revising his lyrics and warming up his voice. The headache he had gotten from nodding his head to fast earlier was still lingering, so he decided his voice was warmed up enough and quietly sat there, reading over his lyrics. Or rather, pretending to read over his lyrics as they were blurring together in front of his eyes. The rapper winced, massaging his temples. Maybe that was why he had been feeling off. He carefully reached for his water bottle and took a few sips before going back to revising. The headache only increased the longer he looked at the small-print, so he closed his eyes for a few seconds, quickly opening them again as he felt the room spinning. It took Mark a while to put the pieces together. Every now and again, he suffered from migraines and this felt like the beginning of one. The odd feeling this morning, the ache from moving too fast and the dizziness. It all made sense now. From this point on, Mark knew it would only get worse as the day progressed but what could he do about it? They had deadlines for their new album and he didn’t want to hold them back. He had to record now because they had a too tight schedule to postpone his recording. Anxiously glancing towards the recording booth, the rapper made up his mind. As soon as Jackson would be done, he’d convince the others to let him record next. He should get it over with as soon as possible before getting too useless and miserable later.

Mark tried to speak up when Jackson exited the recording booth but for some reason, he felt frozen in his spot. Jinyoung went in to record next as the oldest sat motionlessly in his seat. “You okay?”, Jackson mouthed, sitting down next to him and nudging his shoulder to get his attention. The older nodded before realizing his mistake and scrunching his face up in pain at the movement. Jackson obviously didn’t believe him after that, pulling out his phone to text Mark that he looked awful and was acting far from okay. Knowing he couldn’t look at his bright phone screen, Mark leaned closer to his dongsaeng and whispered barely audible: “’m developing a migraine.” He could see shock and understanding flash across the younger’s face within a split second before Jackson replied as quietly: “How bad is it yet and when did it start?” – “Started when I got out of the car and it’s not too bad yet. My head hurts but it’s bearable and my stomach’s starting to churn a bit”, Mark answered truthfully, aware that the younger would immediately assume the worst if he didn’t. "Do you want some water and do you have your medicine with you?”, Jackson worried. Closing his eyes, the oldest hummed: “Already had lots of water, my meds are at home.” He knew that he was supposed to take his medication with him for situations like this but somehow, he had forgotten and didn’t find the energy to scold himself for it now. He kept his eyes closed, as Jackson wordlessly started to massage his neck, helping him to relax.

When Jinyoung exited the recording booth, Jackson was quick to speak up, announcing that Mark was going next. He had taken care of the older on similar occasions before and was well aware that his hyung would only be getting worse from, especially without his migraine medication. Mark shot him a grateful smile before forcing himself up from the couch. He swayed dangerously for a moment before making his way into the recording booth on wobbly legs. His vision blurred as the rapper stood behind the mic. Just standing on his own two feet had made the pain a lot worse, the pounding being all Mark could focus on. He knew he couldn’t put anymore pressure on his head if he didn’t want it to explode but reached for the headphones anyway. His hands shook as he put them on painfully slow. He had torn them off again in barely half the time he had needed to put them on, crying in pain as he fell to his knees. His head spun and his stomach churned. At first, he didn’t even notice the hand on his back, which later turned out to belong to Jackson, who had barged into the booth the second Mark had cried out. He had kept a closer eye on his hyung ever since he admitted to suffering from another migraine.

The members felt helpless as their oldest cried in pain on the floor of the recording booth. Jackson held him, soothingly rubbing his back, but was unable to provide enough comfort. By the way Mark clutched his head, they knew he had a migraine, having witnessed it a couple of times over the course of their career, so Jinyoung turned off the lights and quietly approached the pair with a bottle of water. “Hyung, do you think you can stomach some water?”, he asked carefully. The older replied tensely: “I-I need to be sick.” Quickly scooping him up, Jackson tried to get to the bathroom as fast as possible without jostling his sick hyung too much. Mark had already turned a few shades paler by the time they made it there and relied on the younger’s support to keep himself upright in front of the toilet. His stomach lurched, causing him to pitch forward, and he was grateful for Jackson’s strong arm steadying him. The younger couldn’t help but feel his heart break at his hyung’s pained groans in between the heaves. It didn’t help that Mark had barely eaten anything during breakfast, so after all the water was out, he struggled to bring anything up. He was surprised his head was still in one piece as it felt like exploding over and over again from the strain. After what felt like an eternity, the heaves slowly tapered and Mark weakly slumped back against Jackson’s chest, who tightened his hold on the older. The younger gently brushed his hyung’s sweaty hair out of his eyes before reaching for some toilet paper to clean him up.

“Are you ready to go home now?”, Jackson asked quietly. He only knew that Mark was still awake because his face was contorted in pain. Tearing up, the older whimpered: “I-I can’t go home. We have deadlines.” – “Hyung, you won’t be able to record like this anyway. You look like a corpse and I’m afraid you might become one if you don’t rest soon”, Jackson retorted, “I finished already, I can take you home. Doesn’t your bed sound really tempting, right now?” – “It does”, Mark had to admit hoarsely. Still shaky on his legs, he allowed his dongsaeng to pull him to his feet and onto his back. Trying to keep his steps light, Jackson carried him back to the studio, so they could inform the others about leaving. “I’ll come with you, I’m done already too”, Jinyoung announced, collecting their belongings while Jaebeom called them a driver. Mark kept his eyes closed through all of it, reminding himself that gritting his teeth would only make the pain worse. Suddenly there was a gently hand on his head, stroking his hair, and he heard Jaebeom’s voice close to his ear. “Get some rest and don’t worry about our deadlines, I’ll reschedule the recording for you”, the leader hummed softly. Mark replied with a sleepy: “Thanks.” Then he felt Jackson move and Jinyoung instructed: “Keep your eyes closed, we’re almost outside and it’s rather sunny.” It wasn’t like Mark had any motivation to open his eyes anyway, so he let his dongsaeng’s take him to the car. Jinyoung got in first and helped Mark find his seat too. While he buckled the oldest’s seatbelt, Jackson got in on the other side, buckling himself up too before adjusting the air conditioning.

They spent the ride in silence with Mark resting on Jinyoung’s shoulder and Jackson holding his hand for emotional support. The older was so out of it that he didn’t pay any attention to the other two distributing tasks as they pulled up in front of their dorm building. Jinyoung unbuckled their seatbelts before going ahead to the dorm to let the other two in and Jackson helped the dizzy Mark out of the vehicle and onto his back again. They made their way to the dorm much slower than their dongsaeng, who took off Mark’s shoes while Jackson struggled out of his. He then carried the oldest straight to their room and lowered him on his bed. “Shorts or sweatpants?”, he hummed, opening his hyung’s closet. Peeling himself out of his jeans, Mark muttered: “Shorts please.” He changed with some difficulties before laying down and pulling his pillow over his head. While Jackson closed the blinds, Jinyoung came in with a bucket, some water and his hyung’s migraine medication. “Hyung, can you sit up for a moment? I’ve got your meds”, the vocalist whispered, gently removing the pillow. Before even trying to sit up, the older warned: “I-I might need to be sick again.” – “That’s okay, I brought a bucket but try to keep the pills in as long as possible”, Jinyoung assured, helping his hyung to sit up. Mark downed the pills with only a few small sips of water, afraid they’d come right back up. Jackson had ventured into the kitchen and collected two icepacks, while his dongsaeng helped Mark get under the blanket properly. “Wait”, he hummed lowly, returning to their room, “Lay your head on my lap.” Sitting down against the wall close to the headboard, Jackson settled the older’s head on his thigh and gently slipped one icepack under his neck before placing the other on his forehead. “Alright, you can go to sleep now, hyung”, the younger rapper smiled, playing with Mark’s hair. Jinyoung sat down on Jackson’s bed, whispering: “I hope you feel better when you wake up.”

#got7 #fanfic #fanfiction #sick #sickfic #sicktember2021 #fluff #comfort #markson

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flippin-fins · 3 years

Text

Take this sinking boat and point it home

Summary: Post-Hawkmoth defeat, Marinette picks up the pieces of Adrien to make sure he knows what it's like to have a real family

Read on AO3

“Do you think he has a family?”

Chat’s words scattered her thoughts, and it took Ladybug a minute to remember where she was. They had just finished patrol, but recently had begun delaying their departures, spending more time on rooftops, enjoying each other’s company.

She turned her head to look at her partner. “Who?”

“Hawkmoth. Do you think he has a family?”

“I mean, I guess. Doesn’t everyone?”

“Do you think they know? Know he’s doing this? There has to be some kind of reason, right? Some motivation for all of this?” With one hand, Chat motioned to the city around them.

“Maybe they are his motivation, maybe he’s motivated by love.”

“Do you think they love him?”

“Chat, everyone has someone that loves them.”

Chat stilled at her words, and Ladybug held back the question on the tip of her tongue. ‘Don’t you?’

“Yeah, I guess so.” His words came out stilted, stiff, and Ladybug wished she could take her words back.

She never knew what to make of him when he responded like that. It always felt like those reactions came out of nowhere, an invisible minefield she had no right to ask about.

“I don’t think they would know,” Ladybug whispered. “Maybe he thinks what he’s doing is right, but I have to believe if he has other people in his life, they would try to convince him to stop.”

“Sure, maybe.” Chat was still looking out over the city, but his eyes were slightly unfocused, and she knew his mind was still elsewhere. “Why does he even want our miraculous?”

He finally turned to look at her, and Ladybug tried to contain her surprise. He didn’t know?

After a moment, she realized he really didn’t know. “The wish. If you combine the black cat miraculous,” she motioned to his hand, “and the ladybug miraculous,” and motioned to her ears, “you can make a wish. There’s some sort of major consequence though, but I guess he either doesn’t know or doesn’t care.”

“A wish,” Chat echoed, turning back to look at the lights of the city. “What would you wish for?”

“There’s so many consequences, Chat, I wouldn’t want to wish for anything.”

“But if you could?” There was something in her voice, something that tugged at her.

“If there were no consequences, if I could have a wish, I dunno. I guess I’d wish to not have the weight of the city on us at 14. I think I’d wish for more time to just be a teenager.” Ladybug shrugged. “What about you, Chat? What would you wish for?”

He stays silent, still looking out into the night.

She wants to reach out, to know where his mind is, but maybe he didn’t hear her. Or maybe he’s thinking of the best pun to fit with his wish.

So she sits, and waits.

She almost forgot her question by the time he finally speaks, barely audible over the sounds of the city.

“I think I’d wish for my mom. Wish my family was whole again.”

His words haunt her that night, when sleep can’t come. His wish, and his earlier reaction.

But it was fine, probably just a bad night.

~~~

“I guess he did have a family.”

Ladybug turned to her partner, wide-eyed. She thought back to that evening on the roof a few years ago, when Hawkmoth’s identity was just an idea, not an actual person who was currently being loaded into the back of a police car.

They had retreated to a nearby roof, not ready to face reporters and their questions.

Chat didn’t deserve that. He deserved a moment of peace, of being able to step away from the situation and hopefully take a deep breath.

Last night wasn’t how she’d wanted to find out her partner’s identity, but at the realization of who Hawkmoth was, he had insisted. He’d been right, after all. Finding out who he was while facing off with their biggest enemy would have thrown Ladybug off, easily causing them to be defeated. Snatching the element of surprise from Hawkmoth had been important.

All she wanted to do now was drag him to her home, wrapping him in blankets and making sure he had all the pastries and hot chocolate he wanted, and snuggle in with him as he worked through everything that had happened that evening.

But the police had asked them to stay.

She’d negotiated with them, forcing the police to allow the duo to leave the immediate scene, offering to stay in the nearby area, visible in case they were needed. But there was no way she was letting Chat Noir stay there, no way she was letting Gabriel Agreste glare at his son, running his mouth and traumatizing him further.

Ladybug had expected him to beg for forgiveness, beg for freedom. The vitriol he spit was worse, and Chat’s statue impersonation at her side made her want to flinch at almost everything he said.

She’d never been more thankful to have her parents.

Ladybug had considered destranforming and calling her parents, asking them to pick her and Chat up. She probably should give them a heads up before bringing him home, but Ladybug had a feeling her parents wouldn’t mind. He’d always been told he could have a home there, and she could already picture her parents bringing extra pillows and blankets to her room, expecting someone would be taking in the model.

She should probably call them anyway, just to let them know she was okay.

Chat rested his head on her shoulder, and Ladybug’s hand came up automatically to run her fingers through his hair.

“He doesn’t have to be your family.”

Chat snorted, not moving to look at her. “It seems like it would be pretty difficult for Adrien Agreste to separate from the Gabriel Agreste legacy.”

“Sure, but you can make your own family. Nino and Alya and me,” Ladybug tried to contain her blush, or at least minimize her hesitation. “Even my parents would be happy to give you the family you should have had. They all love you.”

“Do you love me?”

Ladybug sucked in a breath. In all the madness or the evening, she had forgotten her school crush was also the partner she’d started to fall for. Forgotten she hadn’t told him who the other boy had been.

“Come home with me.” She reached out for his hand, squeezing it.

He finally sat up, turning to look at her. The hint of a smile ghosted his features, and it took everything in her to not wrap him in a hug and carry him off the roof.

“You know I’ll follow you anywhere.”

Letting go of his hand, she flicked his bell. “Then come on, let’s make sure this stray kitty finds a home.”

~~~

Clutching the coffee mug in her hands, Marinette’s eyes were glued to the television.

Images of last night flashed on the screen in front of her, and a video of Gabriel Agreste being loaded back into a police car stayed in the corner on repeat.

She kept an ear on the trapdoor to her room, hoping Adrien would stay asleep. She had taken his phone from him, hiding it so he couldn’t check the internet for mentions of him or his father. Marinette had been hoping to keep him calm, to make sure he knew he was safe, but it hadn’t mattered. He’d been up all night with grief stricken eyes and she’d been there, holding him while he broke into pieces in front of her. He’d finally fallen asleep as the sun started to rise, so with a slight motion to the kwamis, Marinette had slipped out of the room.

Tikki had offered to join her, but Marinette knew she had missed Nooroo and Duusu and waved her off. Tikki and Plagg could come find her if Adrien woke up, if he needed her.

Marinette’s phone buzzed and she barely glanced down before answering.

“You were there.”

Alya’s voice wasn’t questioning, but instead accusatory.

Marinette nodded as she spoke, as if Alya could see her. “Ladybug was there.”

“No one knows where Adrien is. Nino can’t get a hold of him, and you didn’t call Rena or Carapace last night so he’s even more stressed. The news says that Ladybug and Chat Noir took off when no one was paying attention, not answering any questions. You were there and couldn’t be bothered to reach out, to let me know you were okay.”

“We had other things on our mind.”

“Marinette, please,” Alya’s voice, her begging, snapped Marinette out of her transe.

Guilt radiated through her, and Marinette realized she should have called them. The two of them deserved to at least know she and Adrien were okay.

“Are you with him?”

Marinette chewed her nail for a moment. “Are you with Nino?”

“Of course I’m with Nino. We’ve been trying to contact both of you, and it’s easier if we can turn to the other and share whether or not we’ve gotten a hold of either of you.”

“How soon can you both come over?”

Marinette flinched as she heard Alya snap. “Nino, let’s go. We need to get to Marientte’s.”

A muffled voice responded. The only word Marinette caught was ‘Adrien’. She really should have called them last night.

“Alya, you really don’t have to drop everything. I just figured it would be easier to explain in person.”

“It’s too late, we’re already on our way. We’ll be there soon.”

The line clicked before Marinette could respond.

“Marinette?”

Marinette turned to the small voice that called her name.

Tikki floated in the air in front of her.

“Is he awake?” Her eyes flicked to the stairs and she took a step towards her room.

“No no, I just wanted to check on you. Last night was a lot. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Marinette shrugged. “Alya and Nino are on their way, so they can fill in with any extra support for Adrien.”

“But Marinette, I asked how you are doing.”

Marinette opened her mouth to respond, but a black blur cut her off.

“Sugarcube, can you keep an eye on the kitten for a minute? I need a word with your girl.”

Marinette stifled a laugh at Tikki’s face, but she turned and floated upstairs without a retort.

“I’m sorry, Plagg, I don’t have any Camembert. Would Brie be okay for you? At least until I get to a store?”

“We both know that’s not why I’m here.”

Marinette sighed, walking over to the kitchen sink to wash out her mug.

She couldn’t look at him as she spoke. “Do you think he’ll be alright? I should have seen this, should have done more.”

“How would you have seen this? You think I’m not upset? He was stuck in that house! Nooroo and Duusu were right under my nose this whole time!”

Marinette turned around, leaning her hip against the counter. She didn’t know what to say, how to talk to him without wanting to cry about how bad Adrien’s situation had been, about how she hadn’t even noticed.

“Alya and Nino are coming over, so you might have to make yourself scarce for a bit.”

“Am I not good enough to be around your friends?”

She glared at him for a moment. “Well Alya already knows about Tikki, but unless you want to reveal Chat Noir’s identity without his knowledge, maybe we should wait until he’s awake before you harass our friends.”

Plagg huffed at her.

Marinette lifted her hand to her face, barely stopping herself from biting her nails.

“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make it okay.”

“Pigtails, you just have to be there. I don’t think he needs anything else right now. Just friends.”

“Just a friend,” Marinette mumbled.

Plagg opened his mouth, but a knock on the door stopped him.

Marinette started to walk towards the door. “Have Tikki let me know if he wakes up.”

“You don’t want him to see his friends?”

Marinette paused, her hand on the doorknob. “I don’t want to wake him and bring him back to all the pain he felt before he fell asleep.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a black blur go through her trapdoor.

Marinette tried to smooth her hair and plant a smile on her face as she opened the door.

Nino’s concerned eyes search her face as Alya launches herself at Marinette.

“I was so scared and you didn’t text me back and my parents wouldn’t let me go out so I couldn’t be there as a reporter or a friend and I had to watch the news but Ladybug and Chat Noir didn’t do any interviews and I was worried you were injured and something had happened and -”

“Would either of you like some tea?”

Marinette wished she wasn’t being smothered by Alya so she could see the reaction Nino had to accompany the noise of alarm he made.

“Nino, meet Tikki. She’s Ladybug’s Kwami.”

Of course Alya would take over introductions.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Nino. Hi, Alya. It’s lovely to see you again.”

Marinette felt one of Alya’s arms let go of her, presumably reaching out to wave at Tikki, or possibly pat the top of her head.

“Marinette, why did you have Ladybug’s Kwami? Did you steal it?”

At Nino’s words, Alya let go of Marinette to turn stare at her boyfriend.

Marinette snagged the opportunity to escape to the kitchen and turn on the kettle.

After a tense few moments, Alya spoke up. “Marinette, will you or should I?”

She tried to hold in a sigh, reaching over to grab a cookie for Tikki. “Go ahead.”

Nino glanced between the two girls, settling on Alya. She waved a hand between Nino and Marinette. “Nino, meet Ladybug. She’s much shorter in person.”

If she’d actually gotten any sleep last night, Marinette would have laughed at the way Nino’s jaw dropped as he rapidly looked between Marinette, Tikki, and Alya. Instead, she settled for a smile.

“No. No way.”

Marinette brushed some hair behind her ear, revealing her earrings. “Hey, Carapace. Nice to see you.”

“Ha ha, very funny. What’s actually happening?”

Marinette waited, letting it sink in. He stared at her earrings, then her hair, and Marinette could see him picturing her with the signature pigtails. It was clear the moment it clicked.

“Ladybug is my friend from school, the best friend to my girlfriend, and she sat behind me in class for years.”

“Yep, yes, and correct.”

Nino rubbed a hand over his face. “But we were 13 when Ladybug and Chat Noir first appeared.”

“Also true.”

The kettle whistled behind her, and Marinette turned to grab three mugs, pausing over a fourth. “Tikki?”

“Still sleeping.”

Focusing on her task, Marinette stopped her mind from wandering to the blond upstairs. She wanted to go up and check on him, but with Plagg and the other Kwamis upstairs, he was safe.

Handing Alya and Nino their mugs, Marientte grabbed hers and sat at the table. She motioned for her friends to sit with her, but Alya had already grabbed Nino and was on her way over. Nino still looked a little shell-shocked, but Alya had her reporter face on.

“Marinette, who is sleeping upstairs?”

“If they wake up and decide to come down, they can tell you themself.”

Alya frowned at her friend, but was ready to move on to the next question. Before she could speak up, Nino looked up from his tea.

“Do you know who Chat Noir is?”

Marinette choked on her drink.

“Of course not, don’t be silly. Right, Marinette?”

She avoided Alya’s eyes. “Actually, yes. He told me a couple of days ago. But I can’t tell you who he is. I’m only telling you who I am because I trust you, because Alya already knew.”

“Oh.” Nino looked back down at his drink. His eyes narrowed for a moment, and Marinette realized the television was still on, still reporting from the scene of the Agreste mansion. “Where is Adrien? He wasn’t involved, was he? Was he hurt?”

Marinette set her drink down. “He’s safe. I checked on him before I left. He had no idea about his father.”

“Of course he didn’t know. I just hope he isn’t being harassed. Has he reached out to you?” Alya reached out to grab Marinette’s wrist. “Was he okay last night? Should we have gone over?”

“I don’t think he wanted any of us to go there. I’m sure he’ll reach out when he’s ready.”

A crash sounded from upstairs and all of them jumped. Marinette and Tikki locked eyes, and Tikki passed through the ceiling as Marinette ran over to the trap door to her room. “I’ll be right back.”

She reached one hand out to open the door, but paused on the last step. “It’s me. I’m coming in, okay?”

She heard a muffled noise, and slowly opened the door just wide enough to squeeze inside, closing it behind her. The pile of blankets was a new addition to the middle of the floor.

Plagg was floating above the pile, pulling at the top of it.

“Adrien? Are you okay?”

The response was muffled, confirming her suspicions. Marinette padded over to the blankets.

“Did you roll off the bed and over the railing?”

The muffling came again.

Marinette looked at Plagg for a translation.

“He decided he wanted to come down the stairs, but was too cold to go without the blankets. Instead of throwing down a layer before moving, you know, like a normal person, he decided to take the stairs while still wrapped up. You can see how well that worked out for him.”

She stifled a giggle. Something told her that Adrien wouldn’t appreciate it.

Finding an edge, Marinette gently pulled on a blanket, revealing messy blond hair. A short moment later, green eyes followed.

She tried to ignore how red and puffy they were.

“Alya and Nino are here. They know I’m here and that I’m Ladybug, but they don’t know who is upstairs. They asked about you, but you don’t have to see them if you don’t want to.” She reached out, brushing some hair out of his face.

Adrien blinked slowly at her statements, and Marinette realized she probably should have slowly introduced any of those topics, instead of dropping them all at once.

He started moving his head around, and Marinette realized what Adrien was trying to do. She adjusted the blankets around his face, revealing his mouth.

“Which part of that do you want me to go over first?”

She busys herself with unwrapping him as Adrien decides.

“All of it?”

“You knew Alya knew my identity, and when she saw the news last night, she freaked out that I didn’t text her back. Her and Nino were together trying to get a hold of you and I, and between the news footage and hearing nothing from either of us, I think they freaked out. I invited them over, and,” Marinette grabbed Adrien’s shoulder, making sure he understood. “You are under no obligation to even see them, and I told them you would reach out when you were ready. Thanks to this,” Marinette motioned to the blankets on the floor, “and a misplaced comment by Tikki, they know someone is up here and was sleeping, but I did not tell them who. I didn’t want to say Adrien was here and have Chat Noir show up, or vice versa. As for my identity, Tikki was a little too excited to see Alya and I think she forgot about Nino’s lack of knowledge.”

“I am sorry about that, Marinette,” Tikki floated over.

“I figured he was going to know at some point. He is Carapace.”

Adrien watched them interact, Plagg floating closer to him but not quite settling on his shoulder.

Marinette turned back to her partner. “I told them Adrien was okay, well, okay enough, and that I knew Chat Noir’s identity and was in contact with him. They just wanted to check on you.” She reached out to hold his hand. “I’ll support whatever you want to do.”

“How do you trust me, after everything with-” he stopped, and Marinette squeezed his hand.

“You and me against the world, remember?”

He smiled. “Then let’s go downstairs.”

“Just you and me?” Marinette can’t help her grin.

“I think it might be time for Plagg to finally meet our friends, right?”

She really didn’t mean to knock him over. After all, she was certainly still sore from yesterday, so he probably was too. But his smile was so infectious, his happy, sunshine self so near to the surface, that Marinette couldn’t help but tackle him into a hug.

They froze at a knock on the trapdoor. “Marinette? Are you alright?”

Leave it to the reporter to check in on them.

Standing up, Marinette offered a hand to Adrien, leading him to the door. “Ready?”

“After you, Bug.”

Marinette felt herself blush, but pushed forward.

Maybe she should have offered Alya some warning, as the door opening spooked the reporter enough to stumble back down the stairs.

“Sorry, I just figured we’d come down here instead of having you come up.”

“We?” The hope in Nino’s voice made Marinette want to giggle, but nothing could prepare her for the expression on his face as her companion joined her on the stairs.

“Yeah, ‘we’. Maybe napping the day away isn’t the best choice.”

Alya’s yank on Marinette’s arm was the only reason Nino didn’t knock her over in his haste to hug his friend.

“You’ve been here the whole time? And you,” Nino turned to Marientte for a moment. “You didn’t bother to say a word?”

“I told you he was safe, that he would reach out when he could. It wasn’t my place to speak for him.”

Marinette saw in Alya’s eyes that she was connecting the dots, putting together everything that had been said. She’d always been good at puzzles.

“You’re him.”

Adrien’s head snapped towards the girls, but he forced the smile to stay light on his face. “Of course I’m him. It’s me, Adrien. Did you already forget? Don’t tell me my modeling good looks have given you amnesia.”

Alya looked at Marinette for the answer, but she couldn’t meet her friend’s gaze.

“If it was just Adrien upstairs, you wouldn’t have stopped us from going upstairs.”

“I never stopped you from going upstairs I-”

“You would have told us when we kept asking about him, You would have encouraged Nino to go see him. There was a reason you were vague about who was upstairs. If Tikki hadn’t said anything, would you have even told us?”

“Alya, I -”

“Unless you were worried about what we would find. Or who we might find.” Alya squinted her eyes. “You know his identity and you haven’t stuttered once talking around Adrien.”

“Alya it’s not -”

Alya spun around to look at Adrien. “Tell me, sunshine. Why would Marinette be afraid of what we would find if we went upstairs?”

“Oh she was probably worried about you finding me!”

Marinette and Tikki sighed as Adrien tried to snag Plagg, to hide him, even if it was too late. Nino looked ready to pass out.

Only Alya was smiling. “I was hoping for something more scandalous, but this is fine too. It’s nice to meet you. I take it you’re Chat Noir’s Kwami.”

“Chat Noir’s Kwami?”

Plagg turned around. “Is he always this slow, or is today a special occasion?”

Trying to channel her best Guardian voice, Marinette held back another sigh. “Plagg, don’t be rude. It’s understandable to be overwhelmed by learning the identities of Paris’s two main superheroes, especially when they are your friends from school.”

“But does he have to look so dumbstruck?”

“Plagg!”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck as he looked between Alya and Nino. “Surprise?”

Nino was still wide-eyed, taking everything in, but Alya stepped forward.

Adrien stilled as Alya approached. She looked back at Marinette for a moment. “You should have called us. Rena and Carapace or Alya and Nino. I get you two are a team and self-sacrifice and do it yourself, but we were worried sick.” She pulled Adrien into a hug. “You owe us that much.”

“Alya,” Marinette warned, stepping forward and ready to drag her friend away or bring everyone down the rest of the stairs.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take my hands off of your man.”

Marinette blushed, but before she could respond Alya was pulling her down the stairs towards the kitchen, Adrien and Nino following.

She didn’t know how it happened, but when there was suddenly pressure in her free hand, Marinette grabbed onto it like a lifeline. They’d come too far, been separated for too long. She understood he needed it as much as she did.

The four friends sat down on Marinette’s couch, as she was thankful her parents had chosen to open the bakery today, even with the craziness on the news.

Marinette didn’t realize she had tucked herself into Adrien’s side until she saw the look on her face. She moved to untangle herself, willing the reporter to put off those questions until Marientte could figure out the answers for herself, but the arm around her tightened and Marinette knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

Tikki and Plagg landed in their lap, sharing a cookie.

“Are we not going to acknowledge this?” Alya motioned between the two of them, snapping Nino’s focus from the two kwami to the duo.

“Your crush on Ladybug makes more sense.”

Marinette felt her eyes widen as Alya whipped her head towards Nino.

“You knew he had a crush on Ladybug?”

“I mean,” Nino motioned towards Marinette and Adrien, “doesn’t everyone know how Chat Noir feels about Ladybug?”

Marinette tried to turn to look at Adrien’s face, but his hold on her side kept her in place. She was pretty sure his face was pinker than usual.

“I just thought he was a big fan. How was I supposed to know he was her partner?” Nino rubbed his hand down his face. “How was I supposed to know both of my friends were out there fighting against Hawkmoth?”

Adrien’s grip slackened as he stiffened, and Marinette rubbed her hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have known. No one expected you to know. This wasn’t your fault.”

She could feel the couple’s eyes on her, but Marinette focused on the blond. “Adrien, look at me.” She reached out to pull his face, not waiting for him to move. His eyes were distant, and Marinette saw Plagg float to rest in his hair. “None of us blame you. No one should blame you.”

Whispering from the other side of the couch momentarily drew her focus. “Who would have thought that the top two people on my hit list would turn out to be the same person?”

Adrien’s watery eyes finally found her, and Marinette had to resist the urge to drag him back upstairs, to bury him in blankets and kwami hugs.

“He’s my dad,” Adrien whispered.

There was a flutter of motion, and then Alya and Nino were hugging Nino.

“He was your father. I’ll be your dad now.”

Marinette wasn’t sure if the wet laugh was from her or Alya.

“I think once my parents realize who I’ve been keeping upstairs, my dad will fight you for that title, Nino.”

Adrien’s soft crying settled across the room, and the three friends tightened their grip on him.

After a moment, Marientte leaned back to look at him.

“We’re your family, Adrien. We’ll always be your family.”

His eyes were red and puffy, but instead of the empty expression she expected to see, there was something else. Love.

How had she ever looked at Adrien and not seen her partner? How could she have looked at Chat Noir, turned down any of his flirtations? They were one and the same, someone she wanted by her side forever.

Marinette smiled at him, hoping she conveyed every thought running through her head. She leaned forward, burrowing her head into his shoulder.

Maybe tomorrow, or the next day, he would have to face the press, would have to go back to the mansion and release some kind of statement. But today, today he was here in her arms, and she knew that the best place for her to be was by his side, as long as he’d let her.

Partners, friends, family. Whatever he needed, she’d be there.

#My fic #miraculous fanfic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous lb #ladybug #chat noir #LadyNoir #hurt/comfort #marinette dupen chang #adrien agreste #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe

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caramelfuzz · 3 years

Text

Sick Ai/zawa

Alright people, take the garbage man with a cold. I really wanted to make it erasermight so we’ve got an awkward All Might trying to take care of his disaster boyfriend.

It’s common knowledge among the UA faculty that Yagi Toshinori’s weakened physical state left him with a variety of vulnerabilities, most of which Aizawa Shouta became even more aware of once he began dating the man. Of these vulnerabilities, the increased susceptibility to sickness is what worries Aizawa the most. If he gets sick it inevitably goes straight to his chest, which causes even more severe respiratory issues. It’s frankly quite worrisome, even if Aizawa still has issues expressing his worry to the fragile man.

That’s why, the second Aizawa feels a prickle in his throat one night on patrol, he decides it would be best for him to go back to his own place instead of Toshinori’s as they’d planned.

He decides to forgo sending any form of message so he doesn’t have to lie to his boyfriend, instead opting to curl up in his sleeping bag and pray he’s being paranoid and that he’s not actually coming down with something.

When he awakens to a completely stuffed nose, a burning throat, and an incessant tickle in both he knows his prayers have gone unanswered.

He checks his phone, 4 texts and 2 missed calls from Toshi, great.

After an experimental sniff he finds his nose completely blocked, which won’t do at all.

Considering his options, Aizawa decides that avoiding Toshinori entirely would be the best plan of action. He would die of guilt if his simple head cold turned into bronchitis or pneumonia for the world’s symbol of peace.

“Hahh… Ih'CH-ISH! 'TSHIEW! Eh’nGXTCH’uh!”

He pitches miserably into his hands, wishing for a fleeting moment that he had the luxury of calling in sick. Nezu had requested that, short of the stomach flu, hospitalization, or death, no teacher is to miss class. There is far too much at stake for students to miss a day of learning. With that thought fresh in his mind, Aizawa drags himself out of bed to get ready for work.

As he walks toward his classroom he sees something flash in the corner of his eye. Crap, he’d recognize that hideous pinstriped suit anywhere. Before he can make any sort of escape, All Might, in all of his muscular glory, is in front of him. He’s smiling but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Aizawa-kun, hello! Did you receive any of my messages last night?”

Aizawa stands frozen, unsure of what to do. If he speaks he’ll give himself away immediately, his voice is wrecked and it hasn’t even been a full day since he felt the cold coming on. He’ll have to find some sort of way out of this conversation that doesn’t involve speaking, breathing, or hurting Toshinori’s feelings.

Suddenly Midoriya comes bounding around the corner, panting and looking exceedingly concerned.

“Hey All Might! I, uh, need to talk to you?”

Toshinori, in his endlessly enthusiastic manner, whips around to face the young hero and bellows,

“What can I do for you, young Midoriya?”

Aizawa takes the opportunity and hurries away from them towards his classroom. He can’t hang out in the teacher’s lounge, not with the danger of his boyfriend going in there at any point during the day. If he were to cough or sneeze in that room he could potentially infect Toshinori if he went in there later.

He’s in desperate need of tissues, and considering how sore his nose already is, he feels a visit to pilfer some of Recovery Girl’s nice lotion-infused ones is in order.

****************

“What? Aizawa is sick?”

“Yes, and I would advise you to keep your distance or else you could catch it too, Toshinori. He only popped in for tissues earlier and he wouldn’t let me take his temperature but I’m positive that boy had a fever. Stubborn man.”

While Recovery Girl continues to complain about how stubborn the pro hero is, Toshinori can’t help but worry about his boyfriend. What if he tries to patrol while he’s sick? Recovery Girl said he had a fever earlier, what if he passes out somewhere?

He shakes the thoughts from his head. He realizes Shouta likely won’t allow him to come over and take care of him, but has to do something. Aizawa has already cared for him far too many times during their short relationship and he wants to repay the favor. There is something so intimate about taking care of an ailing partner that Toshinori doesn’t want to miss out on just because of his compromised immune system, so he devises a plan.

****************

By the end of the day Aizawa is ready to drop. His students can be a handful even when he is healthy, but with a raging head cold and a fever it’s a lot more difficult to deal with them. Not to mention the fact that he’s trying to suppress his symptoms so as not to infect his students on top of everything else.

“huh'EHSCCHH'uh! Ih'CHISSSH-xt! 'TSHIEWW! eh’nGXTCH’uh!”

He cringes at the unexpected sneezes, they’re getting harder to hold in. He’s walking home, shivering as the wind picks up. It looks like it might rain.

It does in fact rain, the sky opens up when he’s about 5 minutes from his apartment but he’s too exhausted to muster anything faster than a brisk walk which only shortens his journey by a minute or so.

When he arrives home all he can do is remove his wet scarf and curl up on the couch, pulling a thin afghan around himself as tightly as he can. He quickly drifts off as exhaustion takes over.

****************

Aizawa jolts from his half-sleep to a timid knock at his door. His first thought is that a villain had somehow found his place of residence, but it’s exceedingly unlikely for a villain to just knock on the door. Come to think of it, it’s exceedingly unlikely for anyone to visit him. Maybe it’s someone else’s door being knocked on. When the knocking persists, however, he clears his throat and tries to call out.

“I-ihh- I’mb cahh-cobigg,”

He rasps, grabbing onto his coffee table for support as he staggers through the living room. He grabs his scarf, it’s still wet but it will have to do, and approaches the door. His hitching breath forces him to detour to the tissue box.

“Godda sdihh-gh’hh! Ugh, sdeeze. Hh’mmph! Gktshhh! H’HCKCH!”

He dissolves into a coughing fit which he muffles into his arm as he approaches the door, not bothering to check who it is, which he immediately regrets when he sees a soaked Toshinori with two flu masks on his face.

Aizawa’s breath leaves his lungs and he staggers, feeling like he might pass out for a moment from the sheer shock of seeing Toshinori in such a state, why was he out in the cold rain? He can get really sick if he does that! He quickly comes back to his senses and ushers his boyfriend into his apartment, thoughts solely on getting Toshinori warm and dry as quickly as possible. He grabs a towel and begins to dab at his hair and arms, growing frustrated with himself as a sneeze builds within his sinuses and he’s forced to jerk away with a throat-wrenching triple.

“Hahh… Ih'CHISH! 'TSHIEWW! eh’nGXTCH’uh!”

He dabs at his nose with his scarf, once again turning his worried and exhausted gaze to the drowned rat he’s dating, only to see him with a mirrored expression.

“Aizawa? Shouta, I’m fine!”

Toshinori’s voice is muffled by the masks but still very audible, but his reassurance seems to fall on deaf ears. Aizawa is feverishly gathering an assortment of long sleeved shirts and thick socks and placing them onto the bed before them. Once he’s satisfied with his choices he starts to push his boyfriend toward the bathroom almost frantically.

“Warmb up, take a shower or sombethigg. You’ve got to be freezigg.”

“I’m really not,” Toshinori chuckles, pulling up his sleeve. Aizawa squints at his arm through blurry eyes, unsure of what he’s supposed to be looking at.

Upon closer inspection, it appears Toshinori is wearing thermals beneath his work clothes. It’s smart given how frail he’s become since his injury and Aizawa is relieved for a moment, but then he remembers that he’s a walking germ factory at the moment. He scrambles away from his boyfriend and shields his mouth with his damp scarf.

“Wh-what are you doigg h-hh-here, Toshi?”

“I heard you were sick so I brought things to take care of you. You don’t look so good, Shouta.”

“Who told you that? I’mb finde.”

“Then why are you avoiding me like the plague if not to avoid infecting me? I thought our relationship had been going well.”

He looks so sad and Aizawa feels his heart lurch at the knowledge that he is the cause of it, but he has to remind himself that this is ultimately for a good cause. He can’t infect the symbol of peace with his rotten head cold.

“I’mb finde. Just ndeed sombe space right ndow, that’s all. Could you still put ond sombethigg dry, please? Just ind case?”

Toshinori complies, selecting a pair of sweats and some socks from the pile and going to change. The moment Aizawa is alone in the room he coughs, keeping his face hidden in his scarf. His chest is much more congested than it was earlier and he’s once again reminded that he has to find a way to make his fragile boyfriend leave before he catches this.

When Toshinori emerges dressed in clothes just a little too big on him, his resolve almost breaks. His sweet boyfriend looks so cuddly like this and all he wants to do is snuggle up with him in bed and sleep for a year. A wrenching coughing fit forces him to double over into his scarf and he’s pulled out of his fantasy. He can’t do that.

When the coughing fit doesn’t let up Toshinori moves to pat his back, but Aizawa feels a small burst of panicked desperation course through him and he smacks his hand away with a bit more force than intended. He sees a small tear of hurt in the smaller man’s eyes and immediately regrets his split-second decision.

“I’mb-kff!-I’mb s-so sorry, Yagi-san.”

Toshinori’s heart breaks a little more at the sound of his boyfriend being so formal with him. Is this another tactic to drive him away so he won’t be infected? Or is it something worse?

He’d never been one to give up easily, though. He’s determined to go out with a bang. If Aizawa does want to break up Toshinori is at least determined to take care of him before he ends things.

Shouta drops his gaze to the floor guiltily, cold-dulled senses failing to pick up on Toshinori’s silent approach. He jerks when he feels a cool hand being pressed to his brow, looking up in shame at his boyfriend as he tuts gently at the heat. He doesn’t pull away, almost leaning into the cool touch before he stops himself.

Toshinori takes this as permission to speak freely.

“Now I know you’re worried about infecting me, which is why I'm wearing two masks, but if it will make you feel better you can wear one as well, I brought more.”

Aizawa snatches the offered mask and secures it over his mouth and nose before leaning away from his boyfriend to cough roughly.

“Are you going to let me take your temperature? I heard you were a bad patient for Recovery Girl earlier,”

Aizawa bites back a groan, so that’s how Toshi found him out.

He begrudgingly lifts the mask a bit, allowing his boyfriend to slip the device between his parted lips before shoving him toward the sink, aggressively miming hand washing. His boyfriend mimics his gestures in an equally exaggerated fashion, earning a weak chuckle from around the thermometer.

When it beeps, Aizawa yanks it away from his boyfriend’s reaching hands, shaking his head aggressively. At least Toshi looks amused instead of upset.

“You don’t want me to touch it again?”

Aizawa nods, squinting down at the blurry numbers flashing on the screen, 1… 107? No, that would be fatal. 100? The third number continues to evade him, which just goes to show that he probably has a fever, and he finds frustrated tears filling his eyes. Toshi sees his irritated squint and approaches his boyfriend, gently petting his hair as he peers over his shoulder.

“102.1, that’s not great, babe. Have you taken any medicine?”

Shouta ducks into his shoulder to stifle a harsh sneeze before shaking his head sheepishly. It’s honestly pathetic how incapable he is at taking care of himself and yet the school continues to entrust him with the lives of impressionable teenagers.

He’s startled out of his thoughts by a glass of water being pressed into his hand, but almost immediately after taking the glass the infernal tickle that has plagued him all day rears its head again.

“Hh’ghh… hah… ihh’hih!”

Before Toshinori can even process what is happening, Aizawa jerks to the side to sneeze, sloshing chilly water into his lap in the process,

“huh'EHSCCHH'uh! Ih'CHISSSH-xt! 'TSHIEWW! eh’nGXTCH’uh! Sdf! ‘Scuse be.”

He shivers violently and now it’s Toshinori’s turn to worry about keeping his boyfriend warm. He gathers a warm sweater and socks from the pile of clothing Aizawa had accumulated for him and returns to his boyfriend.

Shouta is desperately hacking into his sleeve when Toshi returns with the clothing and the few parts of his face that aren’t obscured by the mask or his hair are pink with exertion.

When he notices the worried presence looming before him he attempts to straighten up and appear healthy, but his lungs won’t grant him that luxury and he starts to cough again. He finally feels the urge die down along with a gush of phlegm in his mouth. Disgusted, he snatches the clothes from his boyfriend and stalks to the bathroom, ripping the mask off and spitting into the sink. He dons the mask once more to change his clothes, unwilling to breathe any of his germs on anything Toshi could potentially touch. He leaves his clothes in a damp heap on the bathroom floor but keeps his scarf wrapped around his neck. It’s still wet from the rain and causes goosebumps to break out on his skin. He dismisses the feeling with a single shiver and walks back out to his small living room.

Toshinori looks up from where he’s putting on the kettle and frowns, brows furrowing. It makes Shouta self conscious of his appearance. His nose tingles and he scrubs at it from over his mask to force the tickle away, a single hitch leaving his throat. He’s so focused on not sneezing that he doesn’t notice his boyfriend approach, again.

“Why are you still wearing that scarf? It’s all wet, Shouta. We both know you’d never let me wear something wet if I were sporting a head cold as bad as yours.”

He scolds softly, settling onto the couch and patting the cushion next to him. Aizawa hadn’t realized he was still standing, he must be more out of it than he thought.

The kettle sings from across the room and Toshinori gently guides Shouta to sit on the couch before going to turn it off. He returns with a mug of tea and a pack of medicine, which he presents to his boyfriend shyly. He’s usually the one being taken care of and it feels oddly intimate to take care of his boyfriend like this. Aizawa just stares at them blankly for a moment, another shiver wracking his thin frame. He takes them eventually and swallows the medicine before listing into Toshinori’s side, exhaustion creeping up his body.

“Sleep, Shouta.”

And he does.

#aa writes #i have finally gotten over my like three year long writers block apparently #and i'm currently obsessed over the garbage man again #i started this fic probably a year or so ago #the ending is a little rushed #i'm bad at endings tho #sick aizawa #aizawa sneeze #bnha

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hockeylvr59 · 4 years

Text

More than Morning Sickness || Matthew Tkachuk

Requested: [x] yes [ ] no

Yoooo I love your writing! Can I request a Matthew Tkachuk imagine where the reader is pregnant but she has severe morning sickness and Matty has Chantal and Taryn come and stay with her while she’s on the road so she doesn’t have to be alone because he wants so bad to stay and help her through it even though he knows he can’t 💕💕 I love your writing omg

Authors Note: So I had an idea for a twist on this request kind of based on current events so after running it by the requester I went ahead and made the changes to write it the way I wanted to. Enjoy!

Warnings: none?

Word Count: 1,670

~~~~~

Nausea. Vomiting. Headaches. Fatigue.

You’d been staying with your boyfriend Matt and his family in quarantine for about two and a half months when those symptoms hit you like a truck, coming completely out of nowhere. You’d gone from messing around with Matt’s family in whatever sport they were attempting to barely being able to get out of bed.

For a couple of days you were able to play them off as a minor bug or your body’s disagreement with something you had eaten. But when they didn’t go away, Matt’s family started asking questions.

Taryn and Brady both suggested that Matt take you to the doctor. Keith didn’t seem to know what to suggest. Matt’s mom Chantal, however, disappeared to the store before returning with a bag full of items. As she pulled the items from the bag, gradually the eyes of her family grew wider. Saltine crackers, Gatorade, B6 vitamins, prenatal vitamins, and finally a pack of pregnancy tests.

“Bro...you knocked her up!” Brady exclaimed.

Keith mumbled something about quarantine babies under his breath while Matt just stood in the kitchen looking completely shell-shocked.

When you stirred from your nap, you saw Matt sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. The moment he realized you were awake though, he shifted, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“How are you feeling?” He questioned softly, fingers gently pushing away strands of hair that had fallen in your face.

“Little less tired.” You murmured. “Still have a bit of a headache and feel like I’m going to puke.” As always, Matt’s face was filled with worry, but you’d learned that lying to him did more harm than good.

“Mom thinks you’re pregnant,” Matt whispered, moving to lay down beside you. “And she’s probably right.” He added. This time it was you that was shell-shocked, your stomach twisting as you thought about it. You and Matt certainly hadn’t been practicing abstinence...and there was that time out on the lakehouse dock where you had gotten a little careless.

Matt pulled you from your thoughts with a gentle kiss to your lips and when he pulled back he sighed.

“She bought a couple of tests, think we should maybe take them?” His fingers rubbed the skin of your hip gently, helping you remain somewhat grounded.

“Yeah...okay.” You agreed.

Five minutes later, Matt was holding your hair back while you once again vomited, the sound of your phone timer going off on the counter. After a moment, Matt stood and the sound of the faucet ran for about 30 seconds. Even still, you heard the clatter of plastic against the counter as Matt checked the tests and silenced your phone. Kneeling back beside you, Matt draped a cool rag over the back of your neck and his hand fell to your lower back.

“This is all my fault,” He mumbled, words of apology spilling from his lips. You didn’t even need to hear the word ‘positive’ to tell you that was exactly what the tests had read. Resting your head on your arm you attempted to send Matt as much of a smile as you could.

“Last I checked it takes two to tango Matty.” You admitted. “So unless you plan on up and leaving me you have nothing to be sorry for.” Matt didn’t pick up on your weak attempt at a joke and instead cursed, promising that he wasn’t going anywhere.

___

Though Matt’s family ribbed the two of you hard for conceiving a quarantine baby, they were all super supportive, willing to get you whatever it was that you needed. While the vitamins Chantal had bought helped a little with the fatigue, they really didn’t do much to stop the constant nausea and vomiting.

Two weeks after finding out you were pregnant, you were being diagnosed with hyperemesis gravidarum. The same day you got this diagnosis, the NHL announced further information about its return to play plan. You were upset knowing that Matt would be going into a bubble and would miss so much of the pregnancy but you knew it was his job and there was nothing you personally could do about it. Talking with Taryn and Chantal, you knew the best thing you could do was take the medication the doctor had given you, try to intake as many vitamins and nutrients as possible, and put the rest up to a higher power knowing that you were doing your best to take care of yourself and the little one growing inside you.

Because you had decided that return to play wasn’t something you could control, it wasn’t something you ever talked about with Matt. Instead, you spent as much time as possible with him, watching from the outside sofa as he messed around with Brady in the backyard, cuddling him on the couch while a random movie or tv show played in the background. You talked about the things you’d need for the baby, who you hoped the baby would take after more and just other random things that had nothing to do with his impending departure.

As the date for summer training camps approached, you found yourself packing Matty’s bags out of habit, tucking them off to the side of the room ready to go. Though you were feeling a little bit better since starting the medication, you still tired easily and you knew that the emotional strain was beginning to take its toll. You’d cried yourself into many a nap thinking about how much Matt was going to miss and how you were going to do this on your own. It was silly because you had Matt’s entire family at your beck and call and there was no doubt that you’d be taken care of, but it just wasn’t the same. Having your boyfriend’s family around would never be able to compare with having your boyfriend/baby daddy by your side.

Matt was out with Brady and Taryn and you were lounging on the couch with Chantal when your phone rang. Caller ID showed that it was Noah’s girlfriend and while you hadn’t really spoken to any of the other wags recently you answered curious as to why she had reached out. Without even greeting you, she quickly spoke one sentence that sent your mind spinning.

“Noah just told me Matt is opting out.” You froze, your eyes immediately filling with tears. “Y/N.” She repeated your name, but you barely registered it.

“I’ll call you back.” You whispered, cutting the line before glancing over at Matt’s mom almost full-on sobbing. She looked at you with confusion on her face before moving over to your end of the couch wrapping her arms around you.

“What’s wrong?” She murmured, her hand rubbing over your back.

“Where’s Matt?” You hiccuped, trying desperately to calm yourself before you ended up sick once more. She murmured that she would call him and fifteen minutes later you felt Matt’s arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest as you continued to softly cry.

“Sweetheart...what happened?” He questioned, thumb tucking under your chin to force you to look at him.

“You’re opting out?” The words were barely audible, but it was clear Matt heard them when he let out a soft chuckle.

“All of this is over that?” He breathed in disbelief. “Yeah, sweetheart. I opted out. My only priority is right here. You and our baby.” You couldn’t wrap your brain around that and just stared at him with wide eyes. His thumb brushed over your cheek as he stared at you, a look of fondness and worry in his eyes. “Did you really think I’d leave you?” He murmured. “I promised you I wouldn’t and I intend to keep that promise.”

“But…” Every excuse you’d told yourself as to why Matt was certain to go rushed through your head but before you could voice them he was speaking once more.

“But the cup can wait until next year..when I put our baby in it. But I don’t have to go and I can’t imagine missing all of this. But I know my family would take great care of you but that’s my job. There isn’t an excuse in the book that would justify me leaving you right now. So I’m not going to. This baby...while tiny...is so much bigger than hockey. You both are so much more important than hockey. Okay?” Matt finished, his forehead pressed against yours as you took in the weight of his words.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The question slipped from your lips immediately and hearing it made Matt sigh.

“I thought you knew.” He admitted. “I talked to Brades and dad, asked them what they’d do. I talked to my coaches and Gio and asked what they’d do and everyone supports me staying here. I didn’t think it was a secret that I was planning on staying.” You didn’t have anything to say to that and seeing how quiet you were Matt pecked your lips. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you directly. I didn’t mean to cause you stress over it.”

Wrapping your arms tightly around Matt’s neck you buried your head against him, the weight you’d been carrying over him leaving suddenly disappearing.

“Are we good?” Matt mumbled against your head, his hands dropping to cradle your hips.

“I love you.” You breathed after nodding against him.

“I love you too,” Matt replied. “I love both of you so much.” As he pulled away he kissed you softly, his smile growing. “Now how about some Italian ice? We brought some home from that place we had talked about.”

Offering out your hand you let him pull you from the couch and as you tucked yourself against his side you couldn’t help but notice that for the first time, even momentarily, your nausea had vanished. Evidently the baby was just as happy about daddy sticking around as you were.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #calgary flames #calgary flames imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #cflames #036

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asa-sauce · 4 years

Text

those forgotten things

❀ haikyuu!! x (ukai’s kid!) reader

flavor: honey mustard

warnings: none!

a/n: hi, sorry for the long wait! if you're coming from my tiktok, thank you for the continued support! i don’t know who the specific love interest is going to be, so for now it’s basically the entire karasuno team x reader.

note: ukai is your adoptive father. and this takes place at very very end of season 1/very beginning of season 2. you are 16.

+ Your dad, Ukai Keishin, forgets his water bottle at the convenience store before practice. You decide to bring it to him... Big mistake.

The bell on the door announces your presence with a gentle chime, and the cool air coming from the ancient air conditioner hits your face. It's a heavenly relief from the sizzling heat, and you thank heaven for the store being so close to school.

"Hi dad! I'm home!" You call out, but no answer comes.

"Where is he?" Misaki asks, head bobbing up and out like a buoy. There's a prep in her voice now, like a child at an amusement park.

"He's probably in the back or something, I don't know." There's no one else in the store.

She sets her heavy, multi-key chained school bag next to the chair, and you notice that the normally happy face of the plush bunny keychain is smushed against the table leg, smile distorted into a frown.

She starts her jaunty browsing around the store, weaving in and out of each aisle. You do the same, not knowing what you're in the mood for, and meet her at the candies and gum.

"Seriously, Y/n, how do you not find your dad attractive?" The question catches you off guard, and you find yourself quickly scanning the front of the store for any customer that might have just walked in. Did she really just ask that?

You swivel around in a slow, dramatic way, giving her an incredulous look that just about asks that question. She looks at you with that casual—but all too serious—charm, as if she had simply asked what the weather is going to be like tomorrow.

"'Cause he's my dad." She rolls her eyes, dissatisfied with the answer, then juts her head forward just enough to add more emphasis on her next words.

"But he adopted you. You aren't blood-related."

You stare at her. She can't be completely serious, right?

You and Misaki met last year on the first day of school. Meeting her was like something out of an anime. The rambunctious airhead meets the quiet, down-to-earth girl who just can't say no to people.

She literally proclaimed your friendship to the world on that first day of school.

So this: her apparent infatuation for your dad, is very far out there, yes. Yet in retrospect, it's nothing beyond her character.

"Jeez, you're weird," you say, deciding to smile it off. You turn to grab a neon blue bag of chips from the shelf beside you. Misaki laughs, head thrown back, in a maniacal way, and disappears behind the aisle end. "Did you get your food yet?"

"Yeah." She's chosen a popsicle today, already unwrapping it while she continues to peruse the aisles more, just for fun. Her fingers drag along the underside of each plastic price tag, making a clackclackclackclackclak sound that's almost ominous.

"How much is it?" You ask, to which she tells you. You go over to the cash register and take out the appropriate change from your wallet, placing each bill and coin into the correct spaces. Even though you're a member of the family-owned store, a business is still a business, and the small ones like this especially need anything and everything they can get to thrive.

Misaki sits at the table for a few minutes, and you guess that she's waiting for your dad to come back out. She's slouched over her brightly lit cellphone screen, her thumbs continually pattering as she responds to all her messages.

It's awkward.

Even though you and Misaki have gotten pretty close since meeting each other, those uncomfortable silences still sometimes appear.

But then she begins talking about a boy she's been texting these past few weeks, mostly talking it out with herself then seeking your advice. You give simple reactions, and comment when she expects it. A simple 'he did not!' or 'ugh!' will satisfy her.

Of course it's not all that one-sided. She talks, you listen; you talk, she responds. And quite frankly, you don't mind it.

But then the silence emerges once again, until she lets out a big, audible, intentional sigh and stands up.

"Well, I gotta head home, my mom's getting fussy about something again." She shoves her phone in the side pocket of her bag, short hair whipping around as she hoists her bag over her shoulder.

"Okay, see you tomorrow, Misaki." You can feel the breath of relief beginning to grow inside your lungs as she collects her things and heads for the door.

"Yup. Tell your dad I said hello!"

"I will."

No you won't.

And with a final automated jingle of the door chime, she leaves. You wait until the white bunny keychain on her bag is no longer in view to release that breath of relief.

And then, you smile.

"Alright, dad! You can come out now!" you announce, your head tipped back towards the blue curtains. In a comical way, just the face of your father appears, with tufts of yellow hair sneaking out behind him. With his eyes wide he scans the room, side to side, searching for any trace of your friend.

"Is she gone?"

"Yeah, she is."

The rest of him appears then.

Ukai sits himself on the slanting, rickety stool behind the counter that is literally almost on its last legs, with his feet propped up. It's his way of "intimidating" all the "shitheads" that come through after school—is what he says.

You hop onto the counter, splitting open the chip bag. A puff of flavored air travels up into your nose.

"How was that English quiz today?" Ukai asks, catching a whiff as well while you pop the first chip into your mouth.

"Good. I got a 97." you reply after swallowing.

"That's my girl."

You hum in response, munching on another chip. Looking into the bag, you spot a wider, saltier chip that curls at one end. It takes up half the amount of chips, you realize as you take it. It should be a crime, you think, to fill up more than half of the bag with air.

"I'm gonna leave here a little earlier for practice tonight. A few of the boys wanted me to help them with a couple new combinations."

He swings his legs off the counter and sits up, mumbling something about wishing he had taken a nap before walking back into the house to change.

You go through the motions of unpacking your school bag, decideding to work on math first.

You spread your textbooks and papers out on the counter, an organized mess as you like to say, of calculus.

Your pencil moves rapidly across the page, the little flower charm on dangling back and forth with each squiggle.

Your dad leaves around ten minutes later, but not before giving you a quick kiss on the head. The sun is still high and proud, and has no intention to descend until an hour or more later.

It's your favorite time of day. The sun falls through the glass doors in a way that makes the entire world seem just a little more fanciful. It's usually quiet in the store, and after an entire day of constant conversations from you and those around, you can't help but yearn for these peaceful moments. It's entirely why you agreed to take over Ukai's shifts ever since he began coaching Karasuno's male volleyball team.

If anyone comes in at this hour though, they're likely to be a student from Karasuno, but in about five minutes the store's most frequent customer, Etsu, will stop by, and will no doubt be mewling for a meat bun.

You plop down on the seat behind the counter, taking a moment to your self to breathe. You tug at the base of your long ponytail, releasing your unruly hair from the confines of your hair tie. Although you aren't directly related to Ukai, over the years you've inherited parts of his look. One of those being your 'lion's mane' (as your grandmother calls it).

Ukai had adopted you when you were ten, but the six years you've known each other feel like sixteen. You don't remember much about your biological family, and for privacy reasons Ukai doesn't know any more than you do.

You have no harsh feelings towards them--no contempt or ill-wishes for leaving their own daughter. Of course, there are days when you wondered where they are, and what life might be like if they kept you.

Perhaps it is for the best, you always came to. Maybe it is meant to be this way, because at least the life you are living now with just your dad and grandparents is good. It's good—

You hear a dull chip as the lead snaps. It flies off to the side, leaving a small pencil marking etched into your paper. It's minor, but still an annoyance when deep in thought or concentration. Still, it's nothing that can't fixed with two pumps at the end of the pencil. You start over again, scribbling out the final numbers when familiar happy mewl grabs your attention. Before you can even look over, your cheeks lift into a smile.

"Hi, Etsu!"

It's a reaction that happens as soon as the sound reaches your ears. You set your pencil on your paper, math equations and theories slipping from your mind.

Etsu hops onto the counter, his blazing orange fur shimmering in the sunlight. Despite him being a stray, his fur is the softest thing on the planet. You hope he is a stray, because that's how you connected to him in the first place. Sometimes you wonder if he's had those long, quiet nights alone.

"You ready for a meat bun?" You say, sliding a hand back from his head to mid back. He anticipates your touch, always tilting his head up before you caress him again. The mewl he gives, so meek and mild, is what you understand to be a 'yes'.

And so you go over to the pork bun warmer and carefully pluck a bun from the middle shelf, trying your hardest not to touch the metal racks in between. There's still a little splotch of red on your hand from the last time you burned yourself.

The doughy flesh of the bun is warm under your fingertips, and droops slightly, heavy with pork. Steam escapes from every pore, and then, as you slice the bun open, it billows out.

The soft sounds of Estu enjoying his meal brings you a gratification that only comes on—again—during peaceful moments like these.

But as you watch him, you notice your dad's tall, black water bottle and cellphone sitting next to the rotary.

I should probably go and give it to him, you think, watching the bottle now instead of Etsu.

It's about four minutes walking distance from the store.

It wouldn't hurt.

"Nana! Dad left his water here. I'll be right back!"

You wait until you hear the warm, candied voice of your grandmother to leave the store. For a moment, a part of you misses the cool air conditioning.

****

As you enter the breezeway leading to the gym, you realize that you've never been here after school. There's a different vibe, you immediately notice; one that has your steps slowing.

You have never seen the boys your dad coaches. It's not like he forbade you from going to games; and it's not like didn't have any interest in the sport. It's just that you...never.. saw them practice.

You can hear the shoes squeaking and the ball slamming against the waxed floor. It's starts to sound like a horror movie soundtrack, in a weird way.

You peep your head in, carefully clutching the metal door frame.

Five boys, the ones your dad mentioned about earlier, are the first things to catch your eye. One of them, with hair as orange and fiery as Etsu's, is mid-air.

You spot your dad fifteen feet away to the left, arms crossed over one another, head tilted down and eyes wound up--his Focus Face, as you liked to call it. He's deep in his concentration, watching every move of the players on the court. You don't want to interrupt him, so you wait till one of the sides makes a point.

That point comes no sooner after you decide, and after it does, the boisterous cheers of the side closest to you fill the room. You take one step in, more confident, then another, till you're past the metal threshold.

"Dad?"

The man in question turns on instinct. He knows that voice. For fifteen years he's heard the sound of that word, the specific pitch and inflection. So he turns, void of any hesitation or forethought, only wondering why you're here a good few seconds after he sees your face.

Everyone else turns too. The word is so foreign in that environment it feels like slime against skin. The cheers stop. Even the ball stops rolling, and all eyes are on you.

"(Y/n)? What are you--" your father begins, still wide-eyed and surprised. They stay like that for only that moment, however, before returning to their sharp gaze. He turns to the boys, and says, "Excuse me for a second."

You meet him halfway as he walks towards you, neverminding the boys' stares. Haven't they ever seen a girl before? Wasn't that a girl standing right beside your dad?

"You forgot your water bottle," you half-whisper. The stares are getting to you, and you start to feel like you're being cooked alive. "I thought you might need it."

Behind him, a soft murmur lays low in the air. You're hyper-aware of it. What are they saying?

"Thanks, sugarplum." Your dad smiles, something that you know others rarely see, and takes the bottle.

You follow the same path back towards the doors, every now and then peaking glances back at the curious boys. They look kinda goofy, you think, just standing there like they had just witnessed a miracle, like the Lord Jesus Christ himself had come down from the heavens.

But as you turn the corner, a wall that wasn't there before blocks your path. It takes two seconds to register this, but in that first second, you're already colliding into it.

You stumble back, and so does the wall, giving you enough space to look up and see two eyes staring down at you. They're brown and wide with fear, as if had just broken an ancient artifact and was about to be executed.

A squeaky sorry tumbles from your lips at the same time he apologizes.

"Are you okay?" The wall--boy...man?--says. You're still in a daze, but lucid enough to give him a reassuring smile. You've seen him around before. You've never talked to him, but always feel bad that others perceived him as villainous or criminal. Deep down you he know has a kind soul... and a cute face.

"I'm fine! Don't worry about it."

"(Y/n)! You alright?" Your dad calls out from where he is, leaning over to see who you bumped into.

"Yeah! Everything's good!" You pip.

The wall in front of you shifts to the side, clearing the way for you to exit.

You walk with your head down all the way back home, afraid that anyone and everyone could see how red your face was.

God, that was embarrassing.

****

"Coach, was that your daughter?!" Tanaka says, almost teasingly. He's the first to break the silence, and has an apparent death wish.

Soft eyes go razor sharp again. No way was he going to let any one of those hormonal teenage boys near his precious daughter.

"Get back to work, Tanaka!" Ukai barks. All the color drains from Asahi's face, who is still standing by the doors.

"Wait, you mean... I just ran into your daughter?"

"It's okay, Asahi, don't worry about it."

"But...but..."

"Does she go to Karasuno?" Hinata asks over Asahi's blubbering, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Yes, but don't you dare even think about--

"Is she a first year?"

"SHE'S A SECOND YEAR, FIRST YEAR, NOW GO GET READY FOR PRACTICE."

"Y-yes sir!"

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #hinata shoyo #ukai keishin #ukai x y/n #ukai x reader #tanaka ryuunosuke #asahi azumane #haikyuu fanfiction

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pollenat · 4 years

Text

RED VELVET and 5 ways to say I love you

➛ Note: Non-verbal, mind you.

IRENE

Her hand automatically reaching for a lost strand of hair you haven’t noticed yet. The fingertips feel so soft on your skin, you want to grab her fingers and kiss the top of each one. But these are just thoughts. In reality you freeze, struggling with the fast rhythm of your beating heart. Joohyun smiles softly, quickly going back to whatever it was she was busy with before.

The drastic change in her behavior when your hands pull her hips close to yours. As much as you want to lead her, you turn weak upon looking into her beautiful eyes. Joohyun’s smile melts away, letting something dangerous take place. You cannot pinpoint exactly what it is, but the sight makes your thighs tingle.

Waking up in the middle of the night. Joohyun rarely embraces you when asleep, but at that moment her hands are painfully tight around your torso. In fact, she’s so strong you can’t turn around to check her face for any sign of discomfort. All you can do is remain still, and wait for her to either speak or loosen the grip.

Turning on your phone after it’s completely charged, only to yelp in surprise at the amount of missed calls. All from Joohyun. With a bad feeling, you dial her back. She doesn’t leave you waiting for long. “Why didn’t you pick up your phone? I was worried sick!” You have to pull the phone away from your ear. Joohyun is nagging you like crazy, but you know that she just cares a lot.

The feeling of water washing over your back, as you reach for a bottle of shower gel. But instead of finding the one that Joohyun is so religious about, you pull out the one you’re used to. The realization makes you take a double look at the small shower shelf. You’re 100% sure the owner of the bathroom you’re currently using is your girlfriend, not you. Was it Joohyun’s subtle way of telling you something, or was it just her caring nature that put the bottle on her shopping list?

SEULGI

Watching her throw herself face down on the spot next to yours. As soon as she turns to show you the tired smile, you’re stunned by the sheer happiness of seeing her. “What? Do I have something on my face?” Instead of answering, you extract a giggle out of her with a tight hug. “You’re going to choke me!” but you know she’s enjoying it just as much.

The plate of french toasts she went out of her way for. It’s a welcome surprise, but it also makes you feel bad. Seulgi waves away any words coming out of your mouth, her shy smile directed at the plate as she awaits the first bite. “Do you like it?” her mouth widens much more when you nod your head yes.

Blaming yourself for ruining her day when it ends with her hand pressing a bag of frozen pees to your forehead. You were supposed to to go out, have fun at a trendy place. Instead, your head collided with a corner of a cupboard you didn’t notice. “It’s okay! Stop frowning.” she gently pats your cheek with her hand. Seulgi’s smile is honest, but you can’t stop the feeling of distaste you have for yourself.

The metal cookie box, hidden between books on a shelf. You still remember the taste of its content, although your primary reason for buying it was the retro packaging. Now, its filled with numerous polaroids of Seulgi and you, taken with her beloved instax. Beneath the photographs lie scraps of paper, with love confessions written on, cinema tickets, restaurant receipts, event leaflets. All working as some sort of proof that what you have with your girlfriend is real.

Her indifference to the fact that she just walked inside your house with a bouquet of flowers. Every week she replaces the previous one with a bunch of fresh petals, never once being brave enough to hand them to you. Instead, the first thing she does after entering, is pull out a vase and fill it with water. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Seulgi shyly looks away whenever you ask her about it.

WENDY

That one evening when instead of letting her sit on the opposite side of the bathtub, you tug her to lean on your chest. She feels small in your hold, but the embrace you’re offering prevents her from sliding down the slick surface. Wendy giggles shyly when she notices the colorful remnants of a bath bomb falling down to reveal naked skin of her legs. “Pretty.” she mutters, the word audible only to you.

Her stiff dancing at your family’s reunion. In a different context, and after more drinks, she would be doing her best to make you laugh with her moves. Yet, curious glances of your aunts and uncles stop Seungwan from anything radical. “Oh my god they’re judging me.” “They are not judging you!” “They’re your family, of course they do!”

Swinging your interlocked fingers while passing other pedestrians on the sidewalk. The night sky is clear, stars frozen under the moon’s watchful gaze. Seungwan’s excited chatter works as a pleasant accompaniment to the walk. You’re listening to her plans, genuinely curious and just as happy to be involved in them.

Squishing her cheeks when she’s not paying attention to you. Seungwan looks offended, frowning at the little pain you’ve caused her. “What was that for?” she asks. You don’t answer, instead hugging her in the middle, and hiding your face in her neck. Bewildered, she laughs awkwardly above your head, hesitating only for a moment, before returning the embrace.

The faces she makes after you call her “baby”. Seungwan’s face is naturally expressive, always going from one extreme to the other. Always making you laugh from the amount of fondness they generate. Still, “baby” is a special type of treat. Seungwan may swear she hates the term of endearment, but you know she doesn’t mean it. Just a look at her face is enough to confirm your thoughts.

JOY

Walking home late at night. Her body is leaning on yours for support after one too many drinks. Slender fingers eventually curl around your arm, as she laughs at something you said. You think to yourself that she looks the prettiest like that - smiling so widely, she struggles to keep her eyes open. Determined to keep the image of happiness as long as possible, you continue saying nonsense, hopeful her intoxicated mind finds it funny.

The afternoons she decides she wants to eat fast food. You’re not one to decline, especially since it’s her asking. You can’t even act annoyed when her red lips open widely to welcome a burger you’re holding. She has her own food, and you want to argue, but you can’t say no when her eyes are staring into your soul.

Zipping up the material on Sooyoung’s back. You’re biting down the lower lip, trying to ignore the warmth in your cheeks. It should be a normal thing to do. You’re just helping your girlfriend with a piece of clothing way more complicated than a simple T-shirt. No biggie. Then why are you so overwhelmed by everything? As you reach the neckline, your eyes meet Sooyoung’s in the mirror, and you can’t help but look away.

The feeling od disappointment you can’t shake off when the noise of your phone doesn’t announce an incoming text from Sooyoung. It’s someone else, asking you about plans. Although too shy to admit it to anyone but yourself, you’d rather meet with the person you expected to write.

Jumping not at the scare, but Sooyoung’s terrified shriek. Right after, her head hits yours, as she tries to keep down nervous giggles. The stranger sitting on your other side gives her a stink eye, but you don’t comment, instead turning towards her to smile from amusement. “I didn’t expect it, okay?” Sooyoung takes the hand you offer to her, more than satisfied with the result of a little adrenaline rush.

YERI

A series of different drinks you’ve ordered to taste test, and her overdone frown after having a classic (although too sour) lemonade. She gets angry when you refuse to take a sip of the same beverage. “Suffer with me!” “No!” “Do it!” “Shouldn’t you protect me?” “Shouldn’t you join my suffering?” “That would be very dumb of me!”

Wiping singular drops of rain off of your camera lens. Yerim is shivering under her long trench coat, the cold wind pulling at her ponytail. Aside from you, the photographer, and her, the model, nobody shows up in front of Rome’s Trevi Fountain, everyone scared of the incoming dark clouds. Maybe that’s better. You have nobody to ruin pictures of your beloved.

The maddening silence of your car ride. Yerim doesn’t even look at you, gaze stubbornly turned in the opposite direction. Any words you think of feel useless, so you don’t let anything reach her ears. Even if you’re no longer angry, the atmosphere is just too awkward for you to act upon. Instead, you soak in pity, missing the normal.

Pulling the curtain away, to reveal your styling to Yerim’s expectant eyes. She doesn’t even try to hold back laughter, as you pose as ridiculously as possible. Her hand does a poor job of hiding the wide smile she’s sporting. “What? Don’t you like it?” you tease her, the boa scarf landing around Yerim’s neck in a flirty manner. “No, no.” she snickers “I genuinely love it. Can’t wait to see you dressed in that at my cousin’s wedding.”

Braiding the laces at the end of her scarf as you await a taxi. It’s a cold winter evening, but at least it isn’t snowing. Yerim’s breath takes over your vision every once in a while. You don’t make a move to escape it, content with being so close to her. Even nicer is the feeling of her hands hiding in the pockets of your coat. Specifically, of fingers drumming a tuneless melody on your thighs.

➛ pollenat’s list of reactions

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

#red velvet reactions #red velvet scenarios #red velvet imagines #red velvet fluff #rv reactions #rv scenarios #rv imagines #rv fluff #kpop reactions #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff

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withcreamandsugar · 4 years

Text

🌺🌸haseul group project in college au🌸🌺

HI IM NOT DEAD school has been kicking my ass HAHA i promise i’ll try to be more active!! enjoy this lil au i’ve been working on since literally my last post!!

“Alright class, start grouping up for the project presentation next week! Don’t procrastinate, this is worth 30% of your grade!”

You were halfway through processing what the professor had said until you realized the classrooms cliques had already started forming. Those seemingly without a group were you, a couple tongue deep in each other, and a pretty girl writing down notes while humming to herself with an airpod in her ear.

You gulped as you walked over to her, making sure not to trip over the occupied couple next to her.

“Hey, I’m y/n. Sorry to bother you but-“

You got through half your sentence before realizing she was still humming along to the song on her phone.

You tap her shoulder, and in response her eyes shoot open, meet yours and a blush begins to form.

“S-sorry! I didn’t realize you were talking to me. What did you need?”

“Haha, no worries. I just wanted to know if.. you wanted to be in a group for Prof’s project next week?”

“Wait, p-project?? Oh gosh, zoned out once I realized those two lovebirds started to go to town right next to me. I’m Haseul, and they’re my friends, Jiwoo and Sooyoung. Well, you’re welcome to join us, but I hope you don’t mind the distraction, heehee.”

You exchanged details, mentally first pumping at the idea of getting a girl like her’s number, and decided to work on the project during the upcoming weekend.

“WHAT??”

You jumped in your chair at Haseul’s scream, and felt the gaze of the entire library glaring at your table. After a mass of hushes and sighs, you quietly inquired Haseul about what had happened.

“Those two idiots decided to take the weekend off in Busan! IN BUSAN!”

After yet another mass of hushes, you desperately tried to get Haseul to calm down.

“Okay, it’s okay. Uhh, so let’s see... We only have 3 days until the presentation, so if we pull an all nighter we can probably get... 90% of the work done by the end of the weekend.”

You heard her audibly gulp. “Did you say... all nighter?” She looked up at you with puppy dog eyes and a pout, then collapsed face first into the library table.

“I’ll buy us coffees.” She groaned, still face down on the table. “Make that two coffees. And a cookie.” patting her on the head as you headed to the cafe.

“Good thing my head was down,” Haseul thought, as her face had instantly started blushing.

~~two coffees and a cookie later~~

The two of you worked hours on end on the presentation, nitpicking every meticulous detail fueled by the burst of caffeine. You notice Haseul’s tip-taps on her laptop keyboard grow progressively louder, culminating in a frustrated groan/growl.

“Everything alright Haseul?” you asked

“I can’t get this stupid image to compile!” She started smacking the laptop screen between every word - “If only this old jank piece of shi-“

“Hey, hey!” You grasped her smacking arm without thinking and held it for a short moment, leading to both of you awkwardly pulling back and looking away. “I-I think now would be a great time for a break.”

“But if we stop working we won’t be able to finish by Mon-“

“So I’ll keep working. You need to rest. Come over on my side of the bench and take a nap, you can lay on my backpack.”

Haseul let out a long sigh. “That doesn’t sound very comfortable.” Haseul remarked snarkily with a smirk.

“You’d be surprised at how comfortable a Psych 114 textbook is. Great lumbar support,” you jabbed back.

“Har har. I’ll take your word for it.” Haseul sauntered over and took up your offer.

Not even an hour into your work grind you get bored and look over to see Haseul splayed out on the bench, already deep in sleep. You thought this would be a perfect photo op for later, so you sneak over and hover your phone over the sleeping beauty’s not so beautiful drooling face. You snap a few pics, giggling at the idea of showing them to her later.

However, you suddenly lose your grip on the phone and to avoid dropping it on her face, you quickly swipe it away to the side. The jerk in movement causes you to fall out of balance and stumble on top of Haseul on all fours.

The two of you look at each other in utter disbelief, eyes wide open at the situation you find yourselves in. You look at each other for a very long time, the library’s silence deafening more than ever. Your heart races as you question what to do before beginning to push yourself off of her.

All of a sudden, Haseul grabs your arm much like you did hers prior. “Now or never,” the two of you simultaneously thought. You lean in slowly, eyes closed, every second feeling like a millenia. The two of you are hairs apart when you hear,

RIIIING. RIIIING. RIIIING.

Your phone blares, echoing throughout the silent library. You jump up instinctively and rush over to answer, hearing a familiar voice.

“Heeeeeeey good morning y/n!! I hope you and Haseul didn’tmiss us too much, heehee! It turns out, Sooyoung and I missed our train to Busan last night, so we can work on the project after all. See you at the library in 5? Later!!”

Ears ringing you shut the phone, laughing to yourself at the irony of the situation. You remember the situation you were in a minute ago and turn your vision back to Haseul.

Haseul sheepishly looks down, avoiding eye contact. “S-so about the project! I can continue working on-“

Haseul got through half her sentence before you placed a fleeting peck on her lips, leaving her astounded. She covered her face with her hands, her cheeks almost matching her red nail polish. “W-why? Not that I minded or anything!”

“I just thought I needed to get that through before you kill me,” as you showed her your phone screen, slowly swiping through the multitude of her sleeping photos taken at numerous unflattering angles, before starting to run away in fear and/or joy.

“Ya! Delete those!” She ran after you, throwing the contents of your comfy backpack at you as the two of you started a wild goose chase around the empty library. “I can’t believe I ever thought about liking you!”

You thought to yourself mid sprint and out of breath, “I found her.”

#loona imagines #loona scenarios #loona #loona 1/3 #haseul #loona haseul #loona fanfic #loona fluff #jo haseul #loona reactions #loona oneshots #loona headcanons #loona x reader

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bunnyywritings · 4 years

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how would prohero! bakugou, todoroki, and midoriya react if a teenager went up to them (at a meet n greet or on the street or something) and whisper to them ‘don’t show any emotion, call 911, my foster parents have been abusing me for so long’ and back off with a smile and a ‘have a nice day’ before walking into a bathroom or something to wait out

[a/n: Thank you anon! I did these as an hc and they might’ve turned out a bit long? I’m not sure but here it is. Slight warning seeing as this is a sensitive topic and there’s a curse word or two in Bakugou’s but it is Bakugou so...? I also made this as fem!teenager, I hope that’s ok -yours truly, bunnyy-`ღ´- ps. Despite probably not being able to do much, my inbox is always open if anyone needs to talk. This is a judgement free zone! I’m here if you ever need any support 🥺 ]

Prohero!Bakugou

* Ever since Bakugou debuted as a pro hero, he had gotten used to teenagers (both guys and girls) approaching him and asking for a picture. He was aware they thought he was handsome and whatnot

* He didn’t really care for it but to rise in the ranks, he needed high social ratings too

* So he wasn’t very surprised when a teenager approached him while he was on patrol

* He waited for the usual “oh my god! It’s Ground Zero!” Or “look! It’s Ground Zero! Please take a picture with me!” But it never did

* He quirked an eyebrow as she looked around cautiously before meeting his gaze with terror filled eyes

* “Please don’t make a scene but...help me. My foster parents, they-they’re hurting m-me. I just c-can’t take it anymore. Their abuse has gone on for so long.”

* His eyes widened as he watched her practically beg for help with a totally neutral face but the eyes gave it away, he could see the fear, he could see how tired she was

* Before he could respond, she took a deep breath before a smile made its way onto her lips and a cheery, “Have a nice day!” filled his ears as he watched her walk into a convenience store

* He grit his teeth. Sweat beading on his brow. He didn’t know what to do. Domestic situations like this were usually a job for the police...but he couldn’t wait for them, they’ve proven time after time how unreliable they can be to get to the scene quickly and it was HIM who was directly asked for help

* His mind went blank when he saw two older adults walked passed them and into the convenience store. “Why did you run off?! We told you to stay in the car while we were getting groceries!” He watched as the teen who just begged him for help was roughly grabbed by the arm and yanked out of the store

* Grabbing his phone, he scrambled to call it in

* He audibly growled when he watched as one of the parents raised their hand and the poor girl flinched away in terror

* His body reacted before he could and he was suddenly in front of the terrified girl and gripping the parents wrist in a death hold

* “You should never EVER raise your hand at a child that way. Get away from her before I blow your asses to kingdom come!”

* “That’s no way for a pro hero to speak to innocent civilians.” They had the AUDACITY to act like they weren’t guilty

* “Abusers are villains in my book! Your time of causing harm has come to an end!”

* And right on time, the police arrived and Bakugou briefed them on the situation before reluctantly letting them take her into their care

* After he finished giving his statement to an officer, someone collided with him. He looked down to see the girl wrapping her arms around him. Tears dripping onto his chest

* “T-thank you...you’re the o-only one whose ever b-believed me.” She cried as she clung to him

* “O-oi. Stop crying, they’ll never able to hurt you anymore” he hesitantly wrapped an arm around her comfortingly, his hand coming up to pat her head

* She thanked him once more before she was called away

* A small grin appeared on his face, it never failed to amaze him how good it felt to save someone, he really hoped she’d get the happy home she deserves

Prohero! Shoto

* As one of the top heroes, he was used to being called in for a bunch of different things and he’s seen a lot of unsightly things

* He likes to believe that he’s been desensitized to the violence that he’s witnessed a countless number of times

* Boy was he wrong

* He was on his usual patrol when a teen approached him

* Shoto had a good social rating and learned how to make peace with the fact that people thought he was attractive even if he still couldn’t really see it

* “Can I get a picture please?”

* He accepted and wrapped a friendly arm around her and pose to take the selfie

* “My foster parents have been abusing me with their quirks, please save me. I can’t take it anymore.”

* His eyes widened, he could see the skin of her wrists that peeled out from her school uniform

* There was nasty burn marks littered all over

* “Thank you!” She moved away from him and bowed, “have a wonderful day!” She had a bright smile on her lips but she seemed on the verge of tears

* She walked past him

* A bewildered expression took over his face as he turned, wanting to reach out to her when he saw her with her parents

* The way she subtly flinched at certain movements and the way they gripped her arms or shoulder

* To the untrained eye, it seemed completely normal

* But he knew the signs of abuse all too well, emotional and physical

* “Excuse me!” He called out rather calmly

* All three of them turned around, the teens eyes widened

* “I need you two to unhand her and come with me please.”

* They resisted, claiming that they had done nothing wrong

* “Just because you aren’t doing anything despicable at the present moment doesn’t make you innocent. I’m not a hero that takes child abuse lightly, especially when the use of a quirk is involved. Please come with me before I decide to use force.”

* Another hero or two caught wind of the situation and proceeded to assist in the arrest so Shoto could stay with the girl before the proper authorities showed up

* “Thank you....s-so much, I t-thought it would n-never end.”

* “Believe it or not, I know what it feels like. But it will get better, I promise. Besides, that was something pretty brave you did. I’m sure you’ll recover soon and be stronger than ever.”

* He would make it his personal mission to check in on her from time to time and make sure that the next place she ended up in would be somewhere where she’d be loved and supported

* Because he had Class 1-A to help him recover

* She needed love and support to recover, he made sure that she got it

Prohero! Midoriya

* Poor baby is devastated whenever kids or teens were directly involved while doing his job

* He was doing his usual patrol

* He assumed school had let out already since there was a bunch of kids in school uniforms wandering about

* He never minded being approached by fans, he knew what it was like to be a fanboy so he encouraged photos and autographs

* So when he saw a girl running in his direction, he didn’t think anything of it

* He prepared himself to take a cheesy, peace sign selfie

* But when the girl basically rammed into him and clutched onto his hero suit for dear life, he was instantly worried

* Images of when he encountered Eri for the first time flashed across his mind

* “Please. They’re hurting me.”

* “Who is? Who’s hurting you?” His eyes frantically searched the area before looking down and meeting her tear filled gaze, lip quivering and eyebrows pinched together

* “M-My parents, w-well my f-foster parents. They-“ her tearful stuttering was cut short when the shout of a name caught both their attention and she tensed up in his arms

* “Please don’t let them take me.”

* He told her to hold onto him and he picked her up, using his full cowling to make him run faster in the direction of his agency

* He was determined to not make the same mistake this time around

* I think he’d probably call Uravity aka; Ochaco, to come and help calm her down and keep her company

* After receiving word that someone had called in a report about a missing teen that fit the girl’s description, he used that to confront her foster parents

* Making sure they were properly taken care of and were no longer able to ever have foster kids or adopt kids for the foreseeable future

* After things seemed to calm down, he actually noticed that the girl went to UA

* “Oh! Are you in the hero course?”

* She was shocked by his excitement as she nodded

* “What’s your quirk?”

* He couldn’t help it but he needed to distract her for the time being

* He hated seeing people hurt, the innocent being in fear for their life but this is what he lived for

* Seeing the people he helps smile again, be carefree while speaking about their favorite school subject, even, anything is better than them being in fear

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #pro hero midoriya #pro hero bakugou #pro hero todoroki #headcannons #anon ask #anon #request

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