#oh to catch the attention of something Not Like Us during occupation and for that to come back again and again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cloud-9ine · 4 years ago

Text

Cable Shocks

⤷ pairing - denki kaminari x reader

⤷ fandom - bnha

⤷ warnings - slight angst, hurt/comfort, illness, exploitation

⤷ summary - you notice the other class 1-a students using denki’s quirk for their favours, and you catch him later paying the price

⤷ word count - 3.2k+

Denki Kaminari was a giver.

He gave his help, he gave his laughter, he gave his love, and recently, he was beginning to give himself, too.

It started off innocently: he showed the Class 1-A students his party trick- look at that, he can charge phones! After that, the others had regularly come to him in need of their devices being charged, or electricity constantly pumped into something that only he could provide. And Denki, being a giver, well, he never said no.

It didn’t matter to him that it would make him short circuit, it didn’t matter to him that they would laugh, it didn’t even matter to him that all he could taste every evening was acid.

Denki Kaminari was a giver, and he was prepared to give his life.

Your class common room was never empty. At any given time, there was always at least two of your classmates in there- no exceptions. If you wanted to make tea in the early morning, Iida and Yaoyorozu would greet you with beaming grins unbecoming of such an unnatural time. Alternatively, if you wanted to cry at 3 AM, you would lay your eyes on Tokoyami and Jirou plunged into the darkness, leaving you to wonder whether they were just acting off or if they were summoning a demon to curse those who have wronged them.

At this moment, Denki was sat on the centre sofa, three cables stuck between his teeth. Beside him sat Mina, eagerly chatting to Kirishima who sat opposite to her on a plush chair with Sero lounged over the arm of it. The three looked content, but you couldn’t help but notice the stiffness at which Denki was disposed, concentration knotting his brows as he worked on keeping the sparks flowing through the wires.

You slipped into the room, deciding on the space on the other side of Denki. The other occupants of the room gave you a quick hello before returning to their previous conversations. With the exception of Denki, obviously, who seemingly forgot his task the moment he heard your name mentioned. His eyes sparkled once he saw you, his head turning to the side as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Hey, Kaminari, you’re dropping the wires!” Sero snickered, eyeing up the way Denki looked down in alarm.

“Only 27%? Come on, I need more than that!” Mina whined, shoving the cables back into the spooked boy’s mouth. He looked at you apologetically, attempting to convey something with wild gestures that you couldn’t begin to comprehend. You laughed, patting the top of his head to quell his struggles.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just chill, yeah?” He paused, dropping his hands to his lap and nodding. You grinned, bumping your shoulder against his before pulling your phone out. Denki squinted at the object, as if it had personally offended him. Grinning, you shook your head.

“Fully charged. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” His expression softened, cheeks glowing a slight pink at your words. You shifted slightly to get more comfortable, ending up slumped against Denki’s side, who in return leaned into you.

“And so basically, I told him he was nuts, right?” The careless ramblings of Mina was enough to get you to relax, scrolling aimlessly through your friend’s Instagram posts. Ochako had posted a weirdly aesthetic picture of mochi, Midoriya had posted a picture of Ochako, Iida was posting about cyber-bullying, the works.

Being in physical contact with Denki while he was in charging mode, you noticed, made your hair float up like static electricity. You didn’t mind this, taking to flattening down your hair every once in a while during your relaxation. It was easy to let go with your classmates- the gentle lull of the voices of the others mixed with the pleasant buzz of Denki’s skin against yours made for a comforting experience that almost made you fall asleep.

“Hey dunce face!” Denki jumped at the sound of Bakugo’s voice, his elbow jutting into your side and forcing you to tense up. He didn’t seem to notice your subtle glare, however, as his attention was focused on the other boy that had slammed open the door (not that Bakugo seemed entirely angry today, but it was just his natural disposition that made every action of his aggressive).

“H-Hey bro! What’s up?” Bakugo didn’t respond to Kirishima’s words, further ignoring the similar muffled greeting that Denki managed to let out.

“I need this charged,” he grumbled, moving to Denki and shoving a fourth wire in his mouth. You frowned, eyeing up the two boys wearily. The screens of the current phones flashed, an indication that he wasn’t putting in enough charge. He gulped as Bakugo stomped back out the room, his eyes squeezing shut as he amped up the electricity.

As if a switch had been flipped, Denki’s blonde locks frizzed up before succinctly falling back down to his head. You stared at him, eyes widened as the wires dropped to the ground.

“Wheeeee!” His body fell into you, thumbs sticking out with a goofy smile painted onto his face. A small smile pushed passed your lips as you grabbed a pillow and placed it under his head just as he fell off your shoulder and into your lap.

“Oh my god! He’s buzzed out!” Mina cackled, grabbing her phone to snap a couple of photos as the others laughed.

“I love the guy, but my god is he dumb.” You bit your lip at Sero’s grin, angling Denki’s head away from the camera and raking your hands through his hair. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling his face into your stomach as he rambled about something to do with being okay. It was hard to understand him in this state.

“Come on guys, not cool.” You mumbled, using your sleeve to wipe away a bit of drool on Denki’s chin.

“Ah, cheer up (Y/N)! He does this all the time- it doesn’t matter!” Kirishima’s words made a pit coil in your stomach, nausea prickling your throat.

“It doesn’t matter. Leave him alone.” Mina rolled her eyes.

“God, it’s not a big deal. It’s his own fault, anyway.” You couldn’t help the annoyance that fuelled the glare in your eyes, but you pushed it down with a harder bite to the inside of your cheek. There was the burst of something metallic that tinged your tongue, but you ignored it.

“Come on, Denki. Let’s go,” said boy didn’t seem to recognise your words until you propped him up so you could stand up before pulling him off the sofa. Seemingly slightly resigned by your actions, Mina dropped her phone into her lap, looking away. This didn’t stop the other two from laughing, however, the volume of their cackles only increasing as Denki fell into your back.

With a groan, you shoved your shoulder into the door to open it and letting Denki clamber through. You painstakingly led him into his dorm room, redirecting him away from every wall he tried to run into and each piece of furniture he rammed into his abdomen. Your phone was blowing up with notifications, but you elected to ignore that as you made sure he didn’t hit his head as he fell onto his bed.

You wrote him a quick note and stuck it on his door, turning around to make one last check that he wasn’t going to kill himself the moment you stepped out the door.

Come find me when you’re back to normal.

“(Y/N)…” he whined, hands reaching out for you as he rolled onto his side, eyes sparkling once he saw you. You sighed, moving to brush a strand of his hair behind his ear.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” It didn’t seem like he quite understood what you said, but the compliant nod and shining smile was enough to convince you he would be okay.

AlienQueen: [ATTACHMENT SENT]

[TheRaven, StarMan, MyChemicalHeadphones and 10 others liked this photo]

PinkQueen: guys!! look at kami asjadoawdhd

ALiteralRock: haha! you shoulda been there

Froggi: He’s been doing that more lately

Invisibitch: Good! It’s so funny!

PinkCake: hes so cute <33

GreenCake: It’s interesting how Denki has been ‘buzzing out’ more, but I suppose if he’s been using his quirk more often outside of training he could be slowly building a resistance.

BoomBoomBoy: Shut up.

IidaTenya: I sure hope he is safe!

TapeMan: nah, (Y/N) got im

You didn’t see Denki for the rest of the day.

When you stirred from your sleep, it was still dark. You felt a warmth building below your skin that spurred you to strip of your blanket, allowing it to fall into a crumpled heap onto the floor before creeping out the room. In the dead silence of the night, each one of your footfalls sounded like a bang to a drum.

The common room was empty that night. You squinted through the darkness, feeling your way to the sink to pour yourself a glass of water. You stilled in the quiet for a moment, letting the movement settle as you took a sip. There was always a sort of ringing once it got quiet enough, a small reminder that despite the fact you were alone in the dark, there was still something going on.

Click.

At the end of the hall, a light turned on, the orange glow a stark contrast from the deep shadows that plagued the area. You heard a quiet shuffling, before a muffled gagging sound rang out.

Eyes widening, you rushed as quietly as you could down the hall, nearly crashing into the door as you shoved your way into the bathroom.

Hunched over the sink, chest racking with coughs and gags was Denki, his eyes teary as they struggled to focus on you. A dark substance, almost completely black if it were not for the slightest translucency, dripped from his parted lips and into the basin, clashing against the pure white marble.

You clapped a hand to your mouth, willing down the tears that welled in your eyes.

“Denki… what?” You choked out, voice hoarse from the dryness that stung your throat. Denki attempted to push himself up, hands trembling and knuckles white as he gripped the side of the countertop.

“(Y/N)…” his voice shook as he reached up to wipe his mouth, taking a step back from you in a vain bid to pass you and leave. You quickly snapped the door shut, no longer caring whether you woke anyone up.

Click.

Denki weakly chuckled at the look on your face. The lock. He closed himself into the corner of the room, pressing his back against the wall.

“Look, I’m fine-“ He was cut off by himself, lurching back over the sink and coughing up more of the liquid.

“What is that?” You questioned, silent horror pinching your features. He turned on the tap, filling his hands with water and washing out his mouth. Darting to the toilet- and struggling to move in such closed quarters- you balled up a handful of toilet paper and wiped his mouth. He leaned into your touch, skin emanating heat and covered by a thin sheen of sweat.

“Battery acid.” You felt your knees go weak.

“What?”

“It’s battery acid. The more I overuse my quirk, the more likely this stuff is to accumulate in my throat,” he looked away from your piercing gaze, “it’s okay, really.”

“What part of this is okay?” You spat, voice wavering. Denki winced at your tone, turning to washing his mouth out with more water, “Does it hurt?” He paused, and that was all the confirmation he needed.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, only the sound of running water interspersed the atmosphere. You reached over and turned it off, not acknowledging the shrill screech of the metal as you levelled Denki with an even stare.

“It’s from the charging.” He muttered, and your knuckles clenched.

“Of-fucking-course.” He cringed, a clammy palm feebly gripping your forearm. His eyes were desperate, frown twisting his expression into something you couldn’t bear to look at.

“Please, (Y/N), it’s okay,” he begged, a tear slipping out of his eye just at the same time you felt one trail down your cheek.

“It’s not okay, Denki. How long has this been happening?” He fell silent, and you could feel the anxiety coiling in the pit of your stomach.

“Four months.” In a split-second decision, you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and pushing your body into his. He nestled his face into your neck, hands coming to rest on your hips. Seemingly unable to keep it together any long, he crumbled, chest stuttering with every breath and his tears soaking the skin that was exposed by your nightshirt.

The silence of midnight began to creep in once again, only broken by the soft whimpers and sobs of the boy practically clutching onto you. You waited as long as you needed to until Denki had caught his breath, not counting the minutes yet painfully aware of each one as it passed.

“From now on, if someone asks you to charge anything, you say no, okay?” Denki frowned, rubbing away the tears in his eyes.

“I-“

“From now on, if someone asks you to charge anything, you say no, got it?” You spat, voice much firmer and tone a lot more sharp. He gulped, resigning to nodding with a sullen expression on his face.

“Are you good to go back to sleep? Or is there anything I need to do first?”

“It’s fine. You can go back now, don’t stay up for any longer.”

“I will do what I want, thanks.” you seethed, eyes glinting. Denki looked taken aback, glancing over your expression wearily.

“Uh…” “I am not going back to sleep unless you’re coming with me. You’re such an idiot-” you paused, “-but you’re my idiot, and there’s no way I’m letting the others treat you like this,“ you cupped his face, fingers pressing into pink cheeks as you angled his face to look at you, “if they want anything else from you, they have to go through me first.” Agape, he only nodded again, allowing you to grab his hand and pull him out the room.

Once he flicked the light off, the two of you were awash in darkness once again, but this seemed not to deter you. Rather, you traipsed across the corridor with a ridiculous amount of determination, only narrowly avoiding the various obstructions in the shadows.

“Here, let me light-“ Despite the little he could see, Denki could practically feel your burning glare. Bringing his hand down, he murmured an apology, musing in your little nod of satisfaction he could feel the motions of.

It only took you a few minutes to get to your room, pushing him inside and closing the door behind you. In spite of everything, Denki could feel heat rushing to his cheeks for an entirely different reason than his fever.

“(Y/N)?” He squeaked, hearing you fumble around the room yet not finding courage to stay anything but completely frozen.

“Yeah?” You questioned, voice low but feeling remarkably pleasant to his ears.

“This isn’t my room.”

“I know.”

“So why am I here?”

“Because I’m not leaving you alone. Come on, I’ve got the spare pillow.”

Denki currently didn’t have the energy to feel shame about the sparks excitement that welled up inside of him as he rushed to the sound of you getting on your bed. You held the blanket up for him, and he all but fell down next to you. The pounding of his heart was almost enough to distract him from the acrid burning of his throat.

You were warm, almost too warm as he shifted to be closer to you. Now that his eyes were getting adjusted, he could make out the expression on your face, eyebrows knotted in concern and eyes scanning all over him, as if searching for some sort of answer that he could only long to give you.

“I’m sorry.” He said it as if it meant anything. If it counted, he truly was. Denki didn’t want to make you worry- he wasn’t worth it. But that’s what you did. He would give too much, and you would worry tenfold.

It didn’t help that his eyes were still stinging and red-rimmed, or every once in a while a dry cough would tickle his throat. It didn’t help that he would wince every time he had to swallow, or that his palms were still clammy and he had to try to subtly wipe them on his shorts. It didn’t help that the pain almost became too much to handle, and he loved you too much to even lie about it.

He loved you- of course he did. How could he not? It was you. You, who stared at him with such adoration, even though he knew you were pissed off. You, who stood up for him even to his friends. You, who worried for him the first time he was buzzed out, and a thousand times later, still stayed with him and ran your fingers through his hair when he was barely conscious.

He watched your eyes strain to stay open, to keep watching him as he was watching you. Finally, they fluttered shut, your breathing evening out as you shuffled closer to him.

You, who got up in the middle of the night to protect him from himself.

He tucked your head under his chin, wrapping his arms around you waist with a gentle sigh. Under the cover of darkness, he confessed this. His words fell on deaf ears, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

You, who, unlike anyone else, was determined to make him stop giving.

He couldn’t help but fall asleep, the sound of your soft breathing and the gentle rise and fall of your chest like a lullaby willing his eyes to close, comforted by the presence of your figure cuddled to his chest.

Denki Kaminari was a giver. And if there was anyone worth giving anything, it was you.

Extra:

Bakugo was not expecting to start his day in a chokehold.

It had started off innocently, Denki was playing a game on his phone, smug grin on his face, you were napping next to him, and the other losers he called his friends were on the sofas, eyes wide and backs straight. Sure, you could say he questioned the strange way his friends were acting, but he didn’t particularly care.

“Pikabitch, I need my phone-“

Bakugo prided himself on his quick instincts, but you were quicker.

In a second, your arm was wrapped around his throat, face dark and pressure increasing through his gasps.

“Say one more fucking word and you’re dead.” You growled, Bakugo’s fingers gripping your arm in a vain attempt to release himself from your hold, “Got it?” The blonde just managed to nod, coughing out once your arm withdrew from his neck. You settled back in your place beside Denki, sending him another sharp glare before returning to your nap.

Bakugo could only stare wide eyed, not quite sure what happened. All he could gather was that Denki was now off limits, and the others seemed to realise that too, if them cringing was anything to go by. With a gulp, he stormed out the common room.

Now he had to go get his charger.

297 notes · View notes

saltybaltic · 4 years ago

Note

AYO YOU AMAZING WRITER YOU💖 Can you write an nsfw Natasha x reader sex pollen fic where r goes on a mission with everyone and is the only one that gets hit with the sex pollen and thinks nothing of it until they get back for the debrief and r starts feeling the effects during the meeting with the rest of the avengers in there like the fever and aches and is super turned on and humiliated and everyone is confused trying to figure out what’s wrong then Bruce says the only thing that can help is sex and she picks Nat to help her out? Something super smutty 😳

Natasha Romanoff X Reader - EXPOSURE

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow X FemReader Fanfic

Synopsis: On a mission you seem to be the only one who’s been hit with this air borne drug. Fortunately you have a great team mate to help you through it

Warnings: 18+ content, f/f sex, sex pollen so the usual dub-con for this trope

Words: 2345

You’d really thought nothing of it until you’d gotten off the quinjet. Even the whole journey home you had felt fine, brushing off everyone’s concern with a flick of the wrist as if it was nothing. You really had felt fine. The exposure to the gas back at the enemy base had been minimal, barely a few seconds, and after a brief once over by one of the SHIELD medics, you had been given the all clear that it was probably fine.

It wasn’t until you were walking towards the briefing room to have the post mission meeting that you started to feel anything unusual. Your skin was starting to itch with a burning hotness that was impossible to ignore. When you had parted ways with the team to quickly get changed out of your combat gear before the brief, you had treated yourself to a very cold shower but if anything it only seemed to have made you even more aware of how hot you were feeling. Washing at all was starting to feel like a total waste of time, your hands already clammy with sweat and the hair by your temples beginning to dampen and cling to the side of your head. Your brain felt fuzzy but at that same time it was like you were thinking with perfect clarity. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before.

Looking around the briefing room as you entered, it was as if you were wearing tinted glasses, everything not quite the way it should be and with a tinge of deep red or orange. You could feel every beat of your pulse against your skull, every hammer of your heart in your chest. Your throat felt dry yet you couldn’t stop running your tongue over your lips to prevent your mouth from watering.

It wasn’t until Natasha sat down beside you that it became apparent that something was very wrong. The smell hit you like a bus and it only intensified everything you were already feeling. It was like your senses had been dialled up threefold. You could take her all in as if it were carefully arranged layers just for you to enjoy; the coconut of her shampoo, the sweet smell of the lotion she’d applied after the shower, the laundry detergent on her fresh clothes, the smell of her perfume.

Maybe it wasn’t the most subtle reaction you could have had if you were hoping not to attract any attention, but jumping up from your seat so violently that your chair fell backwards with a loud crash certainly ensured that everyone’s eyes were now on you.

“Are you okay?” The concerned voice of Bruce from the other side of the room hit you but you could barely focus on what he was saying.

Standing up from her own seat to look at you more closely, Natasha cocked her head to the side as she examined your flushed skin, heavy breathing and blown out pupils. She turned back to the others in the room with a frown, “See, I told you she wasn’t alright.”

“But the medics checked her over.”

“Oh like they know everything.”

“Well they know more than you!”

“It was only a minor exposure and we don’t even know what it was.”

“She said she was feeling fine on the quinjet, I mean this could be something else.”

“Sure, it’s just a huge coincidence that she feels like this after being gassed.”

As the team descended into an argument, you couldn’t really hear what they were saying. Nor, did you care. You felt restless and fidgety, tapping your foot up and down against the ground as you rubbed at your forearms uncomfortably. Your jaw was clenched tight, tilting your head from side to side to work the muscles in your neck as you tried to get your breathing to return to normal. It felt like an adrenaline rush, that feeling that hits you just as the rollercoaster is about to go over the big drop. But it also felt like a hunger, a craving for something like you were a predator that needed to hunt. It was too hard to put your finger on it, too early in the stages of whatever you were feeling to identify it yet.

The sound of someone calling your name broke you from your thoughts, looking up at the rest of the occupants in the room to see them all watching you expectantly.

“What?”

Sitting down by a laptop at the head of the table, Bruce pushed his glasses up his nose as he tapped a few keys before looking up at you, “I’ll have to use the database we have to try and identify what you’ve been exposed to. But I need you to concentrate and answer a few questions okay?”

You nodded your head, closing your eyes momentarily as a wave of heat washed over your body and you tried to remained focused, “Sure, sure, sure let’s do it.”

“So this gas ... could you see it? Did it have a colour?”

It was so hard to focus on the question, your brain working at a million miles a minute but unable to make sense of whatever it was that you were thinking about, “Erm ... I don’t ... it was kind of ... like a greyish blue, I guess.”

“And a smell? Did it have a smell?”

“It was ... sweet. I suppose. Yeah ... but like ... a dessert or something. Like someone had lit a vanilla candle.”

The questions seemed to go on forever, with the occasional interjection from someone else as they tried to help with the answers. Each question narrowed the possibilities down further, Bruce carefully inputting the information into the computer. By the time he got to the bottom of it, you could barely think straight any more, your hands balling into fists as you tried to process the discussion that was taking place around you.

“That’s ridiculous, they don’t actually use that stuff.”

“Well obviously they do because here we are.”

“If they don’t use it then how is it in their files? We only have the information because we took it from them.”

“But there’s never actually been a case of it being used before.”

“Until now.”

“I mean just wanting to have a lot of sex doesn’t sound that bad, there are worse ways to spend an afternoon.”

“Tony! Can you be serious for one second.”

“It isn’t that simple. This is like a real urge. It can be quite uncomfortable for the subject they-“

“The subject?! She has a name you know.”

“But she’s not gonna do anything crazy right?”

“Well no she won’t do anything she wouldn’t usually want to do but the need will be off the charts. It can drive people crazy if they don’t get some sort of relief from it.”

Finally you couldn’t take any more, clearing your throat loudly to get their attention and gesturing towards the door, “Yeah so this is pretty awkward, little embarrassing, bit too intimate to be honest so I think I’m gonna take off.”

“Wait, you should go to the med bay.”

You interrupted Steve’s statement with a laugh, already making your way towards the door as you used all of your willpower to ignore the powerful surge of hormones and need coursing through your body, “What are they gonna do for me there exactly?”

“I dunno, some of those nurses are pretty cute.”

Despite the fact Tony’s joke earned him a disapproving look from almost everyone, you were actually grateful for it, laughing again as you took his words as your cue to escape and hastily left. You were halfway to your room when you heard the sound of feet hitting the ground behind you.

“Wait up.”

God even the sound of her voice was getting too much now.

“Nat. Please, I really really can’t be around you.”

Despite your statement, the red head fell into step just behind you and followed you down the corridor, “I wanted to make sure you got back alright.”

“And while I appreciate that, you’re way too hot to be this close to me.” your eyes fell closed at your words, the effects obviously starting to hit you stronger now as the confession fell freely from your lips. You never spoke to Natasha like this, you wouldn’t have dared on a normal day for fear she’d knock you to ground. Whatever you’d inhaled earlier that day didn’t seem to share your reservations as the arousal started to make itself known.

Natasha pursed her lips, not wanting to embarrass you as she was fairly certain you would never have normally said something like that to her. Certainly not so blasé. “It’s okay. I know this must be ... overwhelming.”

You snorted, “That’s one word for it. But seriously ... I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here.”

“Well I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone.”

Stopping outside your bedroom door, you looked back at the other woman and immediately had to close your eyes and turn your head away instead as a strong pang of arousal hit you, “Jesus.”

“What? Does it hurt?” the concern in Natasha’s voice was obvious, watching you carefully as your eyes bunched closed tighter and you pushed out a shaky breath.

Shaking your head frantically from side to side, you went to grab the door handle from behind the other woman, “It’s uncomfortable. It’s way too intense. I just wanna ... fuck ... I need to get inside ... I need ... I need you to move, please.”

The sensation of Natasha’s hands coming up to rest on your cheeks caused your breath to catch in your throat. It was almost too much, the feeling of her soft skin on yours was like electricity, a shiver travelling the length of your spine and a heavy drop hitting your stomach. One of her thumbs brushed over your cheek before she spoke, “Let me help you.”

When you opened your eyes to look at her, the feeling that came over you was like nothing you’d ever felt before. It was as if someone else had taken control of you, like you were watching from the sidelines as your body acted of it’s own accord. The moment your eyes had locked with Natasha’s, everything you’d been fighting to control took hold of you and in three brisk steps forward you had the other woman caged between the door and your body, one of your hands coming up to rest on the wood beside her head.

“Natasha.” You paused to wet your lips, ignoring the huskiness to your voice as you scrambled around in your head for the smallest ounce of restraint, “You really need to leave now before I do something I can’t take back.”

If you had been expecting any reaction from the other woman, what she actually did would have been somewhere at the bottom of your list. Over the year or so that you’d worked with Natasha you’d had a mostly professional relationship, though that wasn’t to say you weren’t friendly with one another. However the forwardness of her next move was new territory all together.

Moving her hands from your cheeks, she ran them slowly down to either side of your neck. You could do nothing but lean into the gesture, goosebumps rising and flesh searing at the feeling of her fingertips digging into you. You were so lost in the sensation of her touch that you hadn’t realised she’d leaned closer until her hot breath hit the shell of your ear and she spoke in a low whisper, “But just think how good it would feel if you let me help you.”

Her words actually pulled a growl from the back of your throat, the ever growing heat between your thighs magnifying significantly at her words, “Nat ... last warning.”

Instead of backing down, Natasha tilted her head enough that her lips could attach to the side of your neck before speaking again, “Stop fighting it, I know you want me.”

That was enough. You couldn’t have prevented it no matter what had tried to stop you, pushing the door open with one hand as the other gripped the back of her neck and pulled her into a searing kiss. Practically falling through the door together, Natasha’s hands found your waist and all you could do was groan at the relief of the full body contact. Feeling the way her breasts pressed up against your chest, her tongue slipping into your mouth, her hands around your waist as yours slipped down to grope at her ass. God it was intoxicating and still you wanted more

If you had any control over the urges that were powering your body you’d probably have wanted to take your time. Your attraction to Natasha wasn’t something you were particularly ashamed of or desperate to hide. However you’d barely got as far as building up a friendship with the red head and so jumping straight into sex seemed like you were skipping a few important steps. Not to mention the fact that you were fairly certain this was not going to be a terribly slow or tender encounter. No. With the way you were already pulling her clothing from her body and tearing at your own, you both knew that this was something else all together.

Fortunately for both parties Natasha really didn’t mind. Of course after Bruce had explained the effects you would be feeling, what else would she be expecting really? But in the time the two of you had been working together she had come to care for you and the idea of you struggling alone wasn’t something she cared for. Also she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about you in a sexual way before, granted she never thought this would be how it happened.

In all your haste to get Natasha undressed you actually fumbled several times with the fastening of her bra, sure that you’d be embarrassed under normal circumstances but currently too frustrated and impatient to care. You were relieved when Natasha wordlessly reached around and undid the clasp herself, throwing the item across the room before wrapping her arms around your body to do the same with your clothing.

You could barely register what was happening as the two of you staggered backwards into your bedroom, barely managing not to trip over the clothing and shoes that you’d discarded on the way. You were too lost in her to bring yourself to care about being careful. Just kissing her was absolute heaven. Her tongue sliding over yours, lips working frantically together. You had expected Natasha to be a good kisser and maybe it was just the effects of what you had been exposed to but it was like a sparks were flying, a warm wave washing over your body and a pang of arousal with every soft moan from the red head that vibrated against your lips. The way she would occasionally suck your tongue more harshly into her mouth made you feel wobbly on your feet, and the sensation of her nipping your lower lip between her teeth had you desperate for more.

It didn’t take long for you to be pinned on the mattress beneath her, both naked now and lips still moulded together as she settled herself on top of you. Already you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down against her thigh, desperate to relieve some of the pressure that had started to build. If anything you needed it more now, the arousal bordering on uncomfortable as you became acutely aware of just how wet you were against Natasha’s thigh.

The other woman didn’t need to be told, evidence of your arousal already coating her skin. She finally broke the kiss to lean down, but she had barely attached her lips to one of your nipples when you pulled her back up with a frantic shake of your head and a groan, “Please Nat, I can’t wait any longer, just fuck me already, please.”

You felt on the verge of crying you wanted it so bad, the whole experience completely foreign to you. It was bizarre to be overwhelmed with such a primal, animalistic need. Every time you found yourself in bed with a woman you enjoyed everything about it; lavishing her body with attention, the anticipation, the teasing, wanting to take her to the heights of pleasure over and over. This was nothing like that at all. You really just wanted to fuck. More than anything you wanted to come and you were fairly certain if you didn’t soon then it would be the death of you.

Nodding her head in understanding, Natasha pressed her lips to yours again as she propped herself up on one of her elbows, “I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

You were so soaked by now her fingers slipped easily inside of you and all you could do was lie back and release a loud moan. You weren’t sure whether it was in relief or pleasure but either way you were certain that Natasha’s fingers had to be one of the most wonderful things you’d ever felt in your life. Just one thrust of her digits already had your fingers grabbing at the sheets below you, heels digging into the mattress and head thrown back against the pillow in bliss as finally, finally you were given what you had been craving.

“Good?” asked Natasha, her fingers having stilled inside of you almost immediately as she waited for some kind of signal from you that what she was doing was definitely what you wanted.

Nodding your head hurriedly, you brought her mouth down to meet yours again, mumbling frantically against her lips between kisses, “So fucking good ... keep going.”

Natasha grinned, happy to oblige as she started to move her hand again and picked up a steady pace. Almost immediately your hips were moving of their own accord to match her, grinding down against her fingers as she worked them inside of you. Every thrust was heaven, the woman above you seemingly knowing exactly what you needed as she began to push into you harder and faster with each stroke.

Everything about it was satisfying the urges that had been threatening to overwhelm you. The brush of her hardened nipples against your chest as she moved above you. The frantic pants for breath into your mouth between heated and messy kisses. The intensity of how she was watching you and the subtle smirk on her lips as she knew how much you were enjoying what she was doing. When her thumb came up to brush over your clit you wanted to be embarrassed at the groan of pleasure that rang out in the room but you were too far gone now to care.

All of it was perfect. She was perfect. You could feel your head getting foggy, that faint twitch to your limbs as the pleasure was building in the pit of your stomach. As you tightened around Natasha’s fingers you craved the release that you knew was so close. The way her eyes were locked on you almost made you melt under her gaze, the darkened green eyes and pink tinged cheeks making sure you definitely wanted to have your way with her after this.

You could feel it happening, allowing the sensation of your orgasm to consume you as it started to hit with another brush of your clit and a curl of Natasha’s fingers. A loud cry of her name echoed off the walls at the action, your teeth sinking into the side of her neck in a failed attempt to muffle the noise. You couldn’t catch your breath at the feeling of satisfaction that finally swept over your body, hands gripping at her shoulders and toes curling into the mattress as you relished the moment. Your thighs quivered slightly and you could feel your pussy clenching around Natasha’s fingers, the red head groaning in quiet appreciation at the sensation. It was exactly what you needed.

And just as her fingers were beginning to still, you could already feel the arousal rising again. The tingles of pleasure had barely subsided and you hadn’t even had a chance to catch your breath before you were hungry for more. Natasha seemed to notice it at the same time you did, not missing the way your eyes had clouded over with lust again.

You were filled with relief when you caught her smirking and her fingers started to slowly move again.

Yeah, Natasha was definitely the right person to help you with this problem.

—//—

Find the morning after HERE

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #Natasha Romanoff smut #Natasha Romanoff fanfic

1K notes · View notes

latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years ago

Text

Kickstart My Heart Pt.1 (Racer! Yeosang)

Next>>

Pairing: Racer! Kang Yeosang × Waitress/Fuckgirl! Reader (Female)

Genre: Fluff, Angst, 80s AU.

Summary: During an era known for its vibrant colors, eccentric fashion styles and rise of new yet unconventional genres of music, the young generation of that time was infamously known for their need to rebel and live their lives rather scandalously and Y/N is no exception. So when a new and attractive man moves into her town, she has her eyes set on making him her next boy toy.

Word Count: 4K+

Warnings: Dumb attempts at crackhead humor, reader is a cold hearted bitch, guy gets dumped in public, reader's friend is lowkey creepy.

█ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █

Throwing on the last article of clothing that had been discarded the night before, the young woman shook out her hair, still damp from the quick shower she just took. Picking up her bag, she looked over at the figure still sleeping soundly, the subtle hint of a smile on his face. With a pitied pout on her lips, she walked over to the edge where his face was. Taking out the lipstick tube from her bag, she applied it all over her lips, painting them in the dark burgundy color that she fancied so much and had practically become her signature hue. Bending over, she pressed her lips against the corners of his mouth, giving him the faintest whisper of a kiss before pulling away. A satisfied smirk was plastered on her pretty features as she stared at the lipstick mark on his face, the only memoir she'd leave him with as she had done with countless others.

Closing the front door behind her, she pulled her denim jacket tighter on her body, shivering slightly from the early dawn's breeze that blew across. It was always like that even though summer had just begun, the early morning hours still feeling obnoxiously cool and then transpiring into slightly uncomfortably warm afternoons that had more than one soul in that quaint town grumbling and fussing about the weather. But oh did the evenings feel absolutely refreshing, and that's when everything would start bustling to life.

Having finally made it out of that small residential area and finding one of the main roads that helped her locate where to go, she started heading south towards the all too familiar diner where she had been working in ever since her school days, first starting part time and eventually transpiring to full time when it came time for her to spread her wings and fly out on her own, a feat she had been most anxious to do to get away from the overly controlling nature of her parents. She knew they cared about her, but she herself cared very little about the morals and principles they had raised her with, a common trait all the young people in that town shared: their rebellious and headstrong nature to not conform and go against everything they had been taught thus far. Live their own lives as freely as they chose to do.

And she definitely lived as she wanted to, even if it ended up with a rather bad reputation and ugly labels that rather than infuriate her, she openly embraced, as others had come to as well.

The light twinkle of the bells above the glass door let the person at the register know someone came in and they immediately plastered on their business smile, which quickly faded when they saw who it was.

"You're late Y/N." The minuscule raven haired waitress informed her, eyes never leaving her coworker's figure that came behind the counter and started punching in her number.

"Only by like 7 minutes." She waved her slip at the nonchalant looking girl before placing it back in its respective slot.

"One day it wouldn't surprise me if you just didn't show up because you got too caught up in.... something else."

Chuckling softly, Y/N walked up behind her coworker, hands coming up to ruffle the cheekbone level bob cut hair framing her unusually small face.

"Awww come on Lynn, you know I'd never leave you hanging here to attend customers by yourself. You're my bestie." Y/N assured her, playfully poking her lips out as she tried to place a kiss on her friend, the poor girl craning her neck away as she tended to dislike physical affection.

"I will squirt ketchup on you." Lynn threatened as she picked up the cherry red bottle as a last resort to get her attacker to back away. A rather noisy struggle ensued between both girls, catching the attention of the owner and cook behind the two doors, prompting her to come out and see what was the cause of such ruckus.

"Well I'll be darned. I don't remember paying you youngsters to simply slack off and behave like the hooligans you are." The middle aged woman spoke up, her thick accent becoming more prominent. Although she had a stern look and hands placed at her hips, the girls knew she was not in reality angry at them.

Looking over at the recently arrived girl, the owner closed her eyes and sighed deeply when she took in the attire she was wearing: low cut white tank, ripped denim shorts that left little to the imagination if she bent down, fishnet tights with a few holes in them, and her beloved denim jacket that was almost always on Y/N's body.

"I swear to god, Y/N , everytime I see you wear them rags you call clothes, I feel like my body is about to collapse. Why must you insist on dressing like a common street worker?"

Y/N wasn't at all offended by her words, having grown used to and becoming fond of her boss's abrupt, direct and honest manner of speaking.

"Gotta start looking the part if I'm going to dedicate my life to the occupation." She giggled at her own joke, resulting in the older woman taking the rag off her apron and smacking her with it.

"This little runt, talking nonsense like that- get your ass back in there and change into your uniform. Can't have you prancing around here in those skimpy clothes and have all these men that come here say disrespectful things about you. Nuh uh, not to my girls." She shook her head.

"Yes Miss Audrey." Complying with the woman's wishes, she pushed open the swing doors leading to the back and quickly made her way to the corner where all the employee's cubicles were located. Grabbing the necessary items, she turned and went inside the bathroom to change into her uniform, consisting of a knee length crimson red dress, which she had actually altered so it would be shorter and display her thighs more, the cap sleeves slightly puffed up and the torso part had a trail of white buttons going all the way up to the modest v-neckline, usually most buttons were left undone so her cleavage would shamelessly peak out. Exchanging her black Doc Martens in favor of her white Nike sneakers, Y/N tied her apron around her waist, making sure it was as tight as possible so it would accentuate her curves and give her body a more flattering appearance. As she made her way out, she quickly piled her hair up before securing it with one of the many elastics she kept around her wrists, leaving out a few tendrils to fall on her temples.

Coming back out to start her daily work, she stood in front of Lynn, who merely spared her an unamused glance.

"How do I look?" Y/N asked.

"Like a total slut." Her friend answered in her usually rude way.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N grabbed a spray bottle and a rag. Making her way over to the table that had just finished being used, she quickly picked up the plates and glass, bringing them back over to where Lynn was, who took them so she could wash them in the sink. Spraying the top of the marble piece, she had began her task of wiping down the table when the ringing of the bell signaled new customers had arrived, and rowdy ones at that too.

"Damn! Is today's special fluffy sponge cake? Cause I would sure love a piece of that ass."

Y/N recognized that annoying voice even from miles away, belonging to none other than one of her old classmates, Jung Wooyoung, whom she considered a friend, if he didn't manage to irk her too much. Turning around, she of course wasn't surprised to see him surrounded by his crew of equally idiotic and adrenaline junkie friends, whom she had to admit were pleasant and fun to hang out with.

"Sit your asses down already, I'll be over in a minute to take your order." She told them before resuming her previous task, earning a scoff from the most dramatic of the group.

"Fine customer service! Don't think you'll be getting a tip from me." His words made her nearly burst into a fit of giggles.

"Wooyoung please, you never ever tip whenever you come. None of you, except Yunho." It kinda saddened her that said male unfortunately wasn't there with them at the moment.

"He doesn't tip you, he tips short stack over there." His friend with cat like eyes pointed towards Lynn, who upon overhearing him held up a rather explicit finger in his direction.

"I'll poison your food San." She threatened with a sing song tone.

"Like I wouldn't know that you already spit on it." San spat back, sticking his tongue out in his immature and infantile fashion.

"Can you guys hurry up and order already? I'm starving and we gotta head to the tracks as early as possible." The fiery red haired male known as Song Mingi blurted out, fingers tapping impatiently against the top of the table.

"If little miss g-string would care to hop her luscious ass over here, maybe we could."

Strutting over to where they sat, Y/N harshly threw the dirty rag on Wooyoung's face, causing a faint grunt to come out of his mouth.

"No matter how many times you mention my ass, I'm still not letting you tap it." She firmly stated, making Wooyoung slightly purse his lips outwards in a disappointed grimace.

"So anygays-" Mingi began.

"Umm I think you mean anyways." San corrected him.

Leaning in towards him, Mingi locked eyes on the shorter male and stared him down with an intimidating glare.

"Did I stutter Choi?"

San immediately shook his head rapidly. With a victory smile, Mingi reclined back in his seat.

"I'm just going to get the breakfast platter with some orange juice."

Y/N couldn't stifle her snort when he said his choice of drink, the other two men looking away in embarrassment.

"You've been drinking orange juice since you were in grade school Mingles, don't you think you outta start taking something more grown up? Like coffee?" San suggested and Mingi did not appreciate it.

"Coming from the one who still brings a plushie to sleep with him, your suggestion holds no value or power." He retorted.

"OK SHIBER IS NOT A PLUSHIE, HE'S FAMILY YOU JACKASS!" San sprinted up from his seat, nearly leaning across to grab Mingi by the color, but he was held back by Wooyoung.

Lynn, who had thus far stayed quiet, promptly came up with a spray bottle and consequently doused the untamed boy on his face.

"Bad kitty, bad kitty." She reprimanded him, unable to resist the opportunity to attack her long time frenemy.

"Lynn!" Y/N looked at her with surprise.

"You're welcome." Lynn replied rather monotone before going back to her place behind the counter like she didn't just spray San with disinfecting water.

"There's too many germs going around anyways..." She muttered under her breath.

Without any further interruptions, aside from the rumbling coming out of the boys' stomachs, they finished ordering what they wanted and Y/N sent it over so they could be prepared. Not wanting to be near their loud asses, Y/N went back over to where Lynn was, peeking over to see what she was currently reading in the magazine she held.

"What you reading?" She casually inquired.

"Horoscope section." Y/N wasn't surprised, her friend tended to be into more mystical, eccentric and rather.....extreme with her taste in fashion and music. If Y/N was the one who turned heads for her scandalous attire, Lynn was the one people turned away from in fear when they saw how she dressed. It was a sight that truly made both of them laugh at people's foolishness, well at least made Y/N laugh. Her friend rarely had any other expression plastered on that wasn't utter disdain for society and life.

Unexpectedly, another customer came in. Both girls looked at each other in confusion when neither of them recognized him. Their town was rather small with few people living there, so they deduced that he must be a traveler who probably got lost on his route. He himself looked around nervously, eyes barely lifting up. Y/N couldn't help herself as she took in his perfect face. Big, round eyes with crystal clear orbs, small face with a V-line jaw, perfectly sculpted nose with no sign of defects, skin smooth and blemish free, he looked like a prince out of a fairytale. He was incredibly pretty, yet stood there so awkwardly that it was almost comical.

"Hey Yeosang! You made it! Sit down! I ordered for you in advanced!" Wooyoung surprised both girls when it seemed he knew the stranger and even waved him over to where they sat. The other two boys also seem familiarized with him and welcomed him to sit with them, chatting up a storm already with him.

"Who's that?" Lynn was the one to finally ask out loud.

"Beats me.....but he sure is adorable."

Noticing the way her lips curled upwards, Lynn could already see the wheels inside Y/N's head turning.

"And I bet you're going to go over there and find out- aaand there you go." She ended up answering her own deduction as she watched Y/N happily walked over with a more bright expression on her face, that soon soured when her boss came out of the kitchen and beat her over to the table, laying down several plates of food.

"I knew as soon as I saw the orders that it had to be the lot of you." She scoffed softly as she looked at the boys' grinning faces.

"You know us Miss Audrey, we wouldn't ever think of eating anywhere else but here. You're the best cook in all of town." Wooyoung praised her with a sparkling charm that could have fooled anyone else but not the robust woman in front of him.

"Boy stop trying to tickle my ears, I've known you since you were in your soiled diapers being carried around by your mama, running around and creating chaos anywhere you went. Flattery may work on them poor girls you play with but me? I can see right through ruffians like you."

Turning her head to finally notice the new addition to the group, she looked him up and down.

"Boy who might you be?" She questioned him, earning the ears of the girls nearby to listen in for any valuable information.

"I'm..... Yeosang Kang, nice to meet you." He introduced himself, tilting his head slightly down when he said that.

"He just moved into town this week! He's the new guy who is going to work with us down at the car shop and help on the race track!" San enthusiastically shouted, making the older woman cringe.

"I may be old, but I still haven't gone deaf for you to yell in such a way boy. So...." She crossed her arms and looked at Yeosang again.

"You a racer too?"

Now the girls, particularly Y/N, were more interested in what his response would be.

"I- yes. So it seems." The poor boy looked so flustered, obviously being more of a soft spoken individual, contrasting starkly to the other 3 boys.

Miss Audrey let out a seemingly displeased hum at his answer.

"As if we needed anymore hooligans running wild. We already got enough with the 3 Stooges over here."

The girls couldn't help but snicker at their boss's words, always having a blast whenever she put the boys back in their place. They however looked displeased, glaring at them intensely.

"Shouldn't you both be off somewhere cleaning dishes or making sandwiches?"

Snatching one of the knifes, Lynn held it up and was about to jump over, but Y/N came up in front of her.

"Lynn, no. Just calm down ok? You know they're just being idiots." Y/N reminded her.

Grumbling something in a foreign language no one knew for sure if it was real or not, Lynn put the knife back, squinting her eyes at them before turning around to not look at them again. Y/N giggled softly, finding it absolutely cute whenever her friend lost her cool and collected form cause it reminded her of a chihuahua, barking and yelping at anything larger than itself trying to establish dominance.

Noticing that in her display of aggression, Lynn had inadvertently knocked over a few of the brochures that were on display for people to take, Y/N stooped down and proceeded to pick them up in a casual manner. Standing up, she neatly arranged them properly, making sure they all faced the same direction and the sides weren't poking out anywhere. Feeling as though someone had been watching her all along, she looked at the table of boys, half expecting Wooyoung's smug grin to greet her, but she was completely wrong as it was none other than the new guy who seemed unable to keep his eyes off her figure, staring intently at the length of her skirt. When he realized she noticed, his eyes went wide, cheeks burning up with utter embarrassment. Y/N however seemed unbothered by this. Wanting to test something, she pretended to accidentally drop one of the pamphlets. Bending over, she made sure he could get a perfect glimpse of her cleavage, if he payed enough attention, he'd be able to see that she was in fact, not wearing any bra. Coming back up, Y/N looked over to see the results, smirking when the agape mouth of Yeosang confirmed to her that he had indeed noticed everything.

"Oh sweetheart, you're gonna be too easy..." She had already made up in her mind that Yeosang would be her next target, and she had to put her plan in action. Placing the brochures down, she was about to go over and start flirting with him, until a familiar voice called for her.

"Y/N! There you are!"

She internally groaned when she heard him, wondering why on earth did he not get the hint of ditching him like that, especially when he very well knew about the reputation she had. She tried ignoring him, but of course, he had had to be the persistent type, no doubt thinking he was going to have a different ending than the rest before him.

"I thought you'd be here. You could have told me you were going to be gone early. I would have made you breakfast."

Knowing she had to say something, Y/N grabbed her pad and gave him the fakest smile she was capable of donning.

"Hi, what can we get started for you today? Waffles? Eggs and bacon? Coffee to start off with?"

The trio of friends, having no choice but to witness the interaction due to it happening right in front of them, snickered amongst themselves.

"Oh shit. He's in for it." San whispered lowly.

The boy obviously looked extremely confused, his smile lightly falling off, but then returning to its hopeful state.

"Why are you acting like this candy bear? Pretending like you don't know me?" When he tried to reach a hand to pull her close, the girl simply pushed him away with one of her fingers.

"Look, clearly you're too stupid to understand so let me spell it out in a language you can understand." Letting out a tired sigh, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, a sour look displaying on her pretty face.

"We had a nice time together, and last night was... average to put it nicely."

"Oh man. That was a total burn." Mingi couldn't help but snort, some of the orange juice being spit back into his glass.

"But that was all it was and all it's ever going to be. So why don't you do yourself a favor and just go back home to your Star Trek figurines and watch the latest episode of Thunder Cats?"

The not so discreet snickering coming from the table behind them only made the humiliation for the man multiply significantly. Turning red with utter despair and rage, he quickly brushed past Y/N rather brusquely.

"Fucking bitch." She heard him mutter under his breath, a phrase she had grown accustomed to hearing among many others.

"Oh god. Homegirl struck again." Wooyoung laughed, swirling his milkshake in his hand.

"Ayo why you gotta do Thunder Cats like that? It's actually pretty entertaining." San commented.

Looking over at the time, the guys quickly stood up, dropping their share of bills onto the table.

"You guys get paid today too right? Come meet up with us at the track." Wooyoung suggested.

"Why on earth would we want to go see your greasy, oil smelling ass after dealing for nearly an hour with you already?" Lynn questioned him, eyes never peering up from her magazine.

"Because Yunho would be there?"

Still she didn't respond, the only movement made was her finger turning the page.

"Bro we been knew she don't give two shits about him." Mingi reminded them.

"Because we're going to the drive in theater after work, they're playing a horror movie."

Lifting her gaze, Lynn closed the magazine, although still stone faced, her eyes seemed to brighten up.

"My interest has been greatly piqued." Her lips showed the faintest whisper of a smile that gave a rather eerie and chilling feel down the people's spines.

"Maybe we should rethink inviting Satan's offspring." San leaned in towards Mingi, shivering significantly.

"Great! So we'll catch you gals later."

The boys quickly dispersed themselves, save Yeosang who still sat quietly, keeping mostly to himself. His fingers fidgeted with the half drunk cup he was holding, gaze fixed on the table in front of him. Looking up, he was attempting to work up the courage to talk to Y/N, but before he could even get the chance to gather strength, the owner came out from the back, whispering a few orders to her and gesturing for her to go tend to a situation in the kitchen. With a defeated sigh, he got up to go join the rest of the gang outside who were waiting for him. Slumping his hands in the pockets of his pants, he moved out of the booth with a solemn gaze.

"Hey."

His steps came to a screeching halt when he heard Y/N call out to him. Looking over, she smiled sweetly in his direction.

"Hope I see you later." With a flirtatious wink, she bid him goodbye as she disappeared into the back.

Yeosang stood there stunned momentarily, replaying her words over and over again in his mind, pondering endlessly at their meaning.

"Little pussy cat sure got you brain dead, didn't she?"

Startled by the unexpected voice next to him, he jumped when the face of the kind yet stern old lady studied him carefully. With a disapproving shake of her head, she decided it'd be best to warn him before he started getting ideas in his head.

"Listen, you seem like a sweet and sensible young man, so it's best for you to listen to me and stay away from that darn girl. Don't let them sugar coated lips of hers sweet talk themselves into your heart. You'll just end up heart broken like all the lovers she's had."

Picking up some of the plates, she gave him one last look, pointing an accusatory finger at him to get her point across.

"She's dangerous." Finally saying what she needed to say, Miss Audrey headed back with plates in her arms, slapping away Lynn's hands when they attempted to pry them off her, barking instructions at her to watch the counter and leave her be.

"Dangerous....." Yeosang thought to himself, the warning the good intended woman gave him sinking deep in his mind. Although he took her words to heart, something about the way she glanced at him pulled at the strings in his chest, taking his breath away when he remembered the risque position she was in that purposely allowed him to view more than he should have. That memory tinted his cheeks pink, lips unable to suppress a small smile. He knew that he should heed the old woman's advice.

But he had to admit that he loved danger and the thrill it came with.........

█ █ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▃ ▂▂ ▃ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ █ █

Taglist: @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers @brie02 @galaxteez @multidreams-and-desires @deja-vux @hanatiny @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @yunsangoveryonder @minhyukmyluv @nanamarkie @ateezbabysitters @mingismoon @rainteez02

214 notes · View notes

crimsonophelia · 4 years ago

Note

Could I get a fluffy and maybe flirty Childe imagine set during his story quest? Instead of the Traveler and Paimon accompanying him, the reader (who works at the Northland Bank as one of Childe’s subordinates) gets slapped with the duty of babysitting Teucer and covering for Childe and his façade as a toy seller in Liyue.

"I must say that your brother is quite cute, sir."

"...I guess it must run in the family."

"Hm? Did you say something, comrade?"

"Oh. Um. Nothing, sir."

Of course, being the perceptive man he is, Childe heard all of what they said. What he ends up doing or saying to the reader? Seeing the magic you’ve worked when anon previously gave you the liberty of it, I leave it entirely up to you. :)

featuring: childe x gn!reader

warnings: a teeny bit suggestive at the end

published: april 27 2021

form: imagine

a/n: i’m gonna be real with you, i was stuck on ar35 for the longest time because i was too cowardly to level up my world so i finally did it today and i jumped from 35 to 41 T_T and now my enemies are stupidly strong. but anyways i just started the childe quest today so im just gonna stick to the part when they’re still in liyue and there’s no fighting wwww

“teucer, i swear to celestia-” you muttered under your breath, as the little redhead slipped from your grasp yet again, running ahead to go look at some kite vendors. “come back here, kid! otherwise you’re gonna be in a heck of a lot of trouble!”

earlier in the day, you were out running errands for the bank, under tartaglia’s orders, when you had come across rumors of a ruin guard running amok. figuring you would use your spare time and save some local liyue citizens the trouble of having to deal with the feral robot, you defeated the machine with efficient ease. however, in the vicinity, you discovered a lone child showing great excitement at a deactivated ruin guard, jumping and leaping while calling it “mr. cyclops” with a strange elation.

you figured the boy was snezhnayan, what with his features and clothing reminiscent of the cold climate of your homeland. but why in the world was he out by a ruin hunter all alone? he kept mentioning his brother, a toy seller in liyue, but you could think of absolutely nobody that fit that description.

so, out of the goodness of your own heart, you decided to take the little boy-- teucer, he called himself--back to liyue harbor with you, and see if you could find this older brother of his.

however, once you arrived back in the city, your plans were quickly derailed as the little brat seemed to have the attention span of a fruit fly, and was constantly trying to weasel his way into some other dangerous situation without you knowing.

“god dammit teucer”, you huffed, trying to keep up with the child. who let children have so much energy? your age must finally be catching up to you, you thought. “how about we go back to northland bank? you might like it there” you thought taking him back to your headquarters would stall the boy for enough time for you to find someone who might know the whereabouts of teucer’s brother. there weren’t too many snezhnayans in liyue--whoever his brother is, he can’t be far.

the little boy looked up at you with his big, blue puppy eyes, but you knew his act by now. “no buts, kid. if you’re lucky, we’ll be able to track down you’re brother there.” he sighed, relenting to your orders and following you back to northland bank.

the two of you climbed up the stairwell leading to the entrance of the bank on the second floor, teucer clearly dejected and pouting like a baby. exhausted, you pushed open the doors that you were so familiar with, and ushered the child inside.

much to your surprise, you see tartaglia talking with ekaterina in the lobby. it had been quite a while since you had seen your superior in person, and the surprise certainly was not unwelcome. sometimes you couldn’t stand the man’s smug attitude, yet there was something in his rogueish charisma that you simple couldnt deny attracted you to him.

teucer also seemed to be excited by this sighting of the red-headed harbinger, the little boy’s eyes lighting up with unbridled excitement.

“brother!”

wait. was tartaglia the older brother teucer had been talking about all along?

childe turned around, distracted by teucer’s voice, and upon seeing the little boy, his eyes lit up—first with surprise, then with confusion.

“teucer? what the heck are you doing here in liyue?”

he left the fatui agent with a befuddled look upon her face, and ran towards the child. teucer jumped up into his brother’s broad arms, and they grasped each other in a tight hug, like they had not seen each other for at least an eternity.

ruffling teucer’s hair, tartaglia softened, with an expression unlike anything you had really seen him wear before. he really must care about his family, you thought to yourself.

“so you’re the older brother this little tyke has been talking nonstop about”, you teased tartaglia, elbowing him in his side. “you know, he’s thrown me for a loop this entire day. i didnt think babysitting was part of the job requirement.”

the red-head chuckled abashedly, scratching his head. “sorry about that, [y/n]. the little guy can’t seem to bear being away from his favorite big brother.”

teucer laughed. he truly looked so happy to be with tartaglia again, which made you wonder what the harbinger was like when not on the job. you had known him to be a ruthless war machine, a hedonistic killer who thrived off of the rush battle and bloodshed gave him. childe could take down a dozen men, twice his size, in a matter of minutes, hardly breaking a sweat. yet seeing him interact with teucer, almost a little mini-sized version of himself, his gentleness and care surprised you. perhaps there was more to the man than you had initially thought.

teucer finally detaching himself from tartaglia, looked up at his brother with those same puppy eyes, now full of admiration. “are you here to sell toys to the liyue children, too?”, the child asked. toys? what toys could he possibly be referring to? you and ekaterina, both, looked at childe with confusion.

tartaglia stuttered for a moment. “oh! uhh— yes! yes i am! i was just talking with the nice lady, ms. ekaterina, on how many toys we can sell to all the children in liyue!” he responded, hardly missing a beat. did teucer not know what childe’s actual occupation was?

“wow! my brother really is the coolest person ever!” teucer leaped up and down, hanging onto tartaglia’s pantlegs. looking at this young, untainted innocence, you begun to understand why childe might try and shield the child from the truth.

childe detached the excitable child from his clothing, and beckoned ekaterina over. “ms. ekaterina, would you do me the grand favor of watching teucer for the rest of the day? i’d hate to burden our friend [y/n] after they have already brought him to liyue from celestia-knows-where.” he turns to teucer, telling him “big brother ajax is going to sell many, many toys now! so you need to behave yourself when i’m gone, okay? miss ekaterina will be watching you, and she’s very nice.” he pinches his brother’s cheek, teasing him lightly, and ushering him away with the fatui agent.

it’s now just you and tartaglia in the bank, as the sun was setting and all the other employees had gone home for the day. you heaved a sigh of relief, glad to be rid of baby-sitting duty, after having to deal with teucer’s antics for several hours now.

“i’m really sorry about all of that. i had no idea he would be coming, as a stowaway, no less.” the man looked at you with genuine gratitude. “i don’t want to imagine what might’ve happened to the little brat if you hadn’t been there.”

you chuckled, not quite used to seeing such sincerity coming from the harbinger. most of the time, you had been accustomed to his charismatic facade that he puts on when he becomes childe, the eleventh and one of the most dangerous members of the fatui harbingers.

“don’t worry, it really was no problem. your brother is certainly a handful, but undeniably adorable”, you said, mindlessly gathering your belongings again as you prepared to head out again. “he takes after his older brother quite a bit, i must say.”

“come again?” childe looked behind him, eyebrow cocked.

“oh— nothing. i didnt say anything”, you muttered. shit. you really need to get better at keeping your mouth shut. you refused to be known as the insolent fool with the puppy-love crush on the goddamn eleventh fatui harbinger.

“oh? that didnt really sound like nothing, my dear [y/n].” he smirked. whenever he called you “my dear”, you knew you were in for major teasing. he was definitely having fun with this. he strode towards you innocently, with that usual swagger of his, that tinted everything he did. his walk, his talk, his appearance all oozed confidence, and it was utterly intoxicating.

tartaglia now looked at you with a glint in his eye, the same look he gave enemies before he was about to utterly obliterate them. it was frightening, yet terribly alluring, and you despised how much you fell for it.

suddenly, you felt your back hit the cold, marble wall. you hadn’t even realized that tartaglia had cornered you against a gold pillar, his mere presence forcing you to unconsciously move away from him as he approached you, calculatedly. a lump growing in your throat, you couldn’t bring yourself to even utter a single word in defense, only feeling your cheeks grow hotter and your legs grow weaker.

tartaglia leaned his arm against the pillar, dangerously close to your head, effectively propping himself up with only you between him. you were far too aware of the space—or rather, the lack thereof—separating the two of you, the man’s hot breath audible in the dead, echoing silence of the golden bank.

tartaglia smirked, bringing his face close to yours. “you flatter me greatly, [y/n].” smirking, his breath grazed against your neck, his stare burning into your flesh. the way your name sounded on his lips made your breath hitched in your throat. too hot, you felt way too hot. it was impossible for a hydro user to make you feel such unbearable heat.

“seems as if your clever words aren’t of any use to you now, hmm?” you could feel the mans lips brushing against your jaw, each touch against you leaving a stinging trail. he brought his free hand to caress your own, fingers clasping yours as if you were made of a delicate porcelain, the finest kind liyue had to offer. slowly, as if dragging out each second as long as he could, tartaglia brought your hand to his lips, and planted a long, slow kiss to the back of your palm.

your eyes widened at the sheer eroticism with which he kissed your hand—an act commonly of etiquette somehow being much more lustful, even debauched when tartaglia did it. all you could feel was where his lips met your hand, the phantom burn it left, the slight string of saliva connecting his lips to your hand as he left it, the dark gaze in his eyes as he looked back up at you, clearly aware of how vulnerable you were in his grasp.

“thank you again, my dear. i hope we can continue to work together in the future.”

a/n: jesus christ this got really horny at the end LMFAO anyways i hope you like it! its kinda long but wtv

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin x reader #childe x reader #childe imagines #childe headcanons #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia headcanons #tartaglia imagines #childe x y/n #tartaglia x y/n

274 notes · View notes

wellsayhelloaagin · 4 years ago

Text

Think Of Me Fondly (Happier Part Three)

Summary: Moving on should be easy right?

Pairing: Wanda x Female reader

Warnings: Some light swearing, drinking, sexual innuendo

Words: 3.8k

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

As it turned out, bumping into Wanda wasn’t so bad after all.

After that awkward first encounter in the bathroom, you stopped trying to avoid her. It seemed she had the same idea and you found yourself running into her more often. The two of you would find yourselves in the kitchen having breakfast at the same time, or using the gym to train together. The rest of the team were wary, but you and Wanda were determined to prove that everything was fine.

You would strike up conversations with each other, joke around, and after a few weeks, the team didn’t even look twice when you were in a room together.

You and Wanda almost went back to how things were before you started dating. Almost.

Neither of you ever brought up your relationship, too afraid to ruin your tentative new friendship. The soft touches were gone too, Wanda no longer tried to hold your hand every chance she got, a habit that formed long before you were together. You were happy to keep ignoring the elephant in the room, happy that you had your friend back.

Only Natasha seemed to have a problem with the two of you blatantly ignoring your past.

“You have to talk about what happened Y/N,” she cried out in frustration late one afternoon when the two of you had gone for a run, “If you keep ignoring it, neither of you will get any closure.”

You slowed your pace to catch your breath, looking at your friend and seeing the concern in her eyes. “I can’t Nat,” you said, your voice pleading with her to drop it, “I can’t open that wound up again.”

She looks over at you like she wants to say something before shaking her head, “Race you home,” she says before taking off again. You laugh and take off after her, glad that she agreed to drop the conversation. For now at least.

It’s late January and the weather is finally starting to warm up again. You wake one morning to find the sun shining through the window of your room, your spirits instantly lifting. You shower and make your way downstairs to the kitchen, greeting the other members of the team who were already seated at the counter.

“Someones in a good mood today,” Sam commented on your cheery demeanor.

“Well the sun’s out, how can I possibly be in a bad mood?” you reply, grabbing a mug of coffee before sitting down across from him.

“Hate to break it to you Y/N/N,” Natasha began as she walked into the room, “but Fury wants us at S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters today for a meeting.”

You groan and let your head fall down onto the bench in front of you, your distaste for meetings abundantly clear.

“Well, that did it,” Sam joked, rising from his seat. “Enjoy your meeting Y/N, I’m off to go soak up some of that sun you were admiring earlier.”

He ran off laughing, missing the way you glared at his retreating form.

“Oh come on, stop being so dramatic,” Natasha said walking over to you and grabbing you by the arm. “The quicker we get there, the quicker we can leave,” and with that, she dragged you off toward the front door, your still full coffee mug abandoned on the bench.

Three hours later and you were still sitting in a conference room, arms crossed in front of you in a petulant way as you stared longingly at the coffee cart outside the doors you were trapped inside.

Fury was at the head of the table, discussing mission logs and new upgrades, the other occupants in the room listening attentively. Normally you were more receptive during these meetings, but without a hit of caffeine, your brain was foggy. You glanced over at Natasha, who thankfully was taking notes. You’d have to look at them later.

Finally, Fury dismissed the group, and you made a beeline for the coffee cart, ordering your favourite drink from the barista there. After a few minutes, you received your drink and walked over to the table nearby, taking a long sip of the delicious beverage closing your eyes appreciatively, and letting out a low moan.

“I’ll have to ask that barista to share his secrets on how to get you to moan like that again,” you hear a voice next to you say. Your eyes snap open and you look over to put a face to the voice.

You see a woman standing there in a S.H.I.E.L.D uniform, her long black hair pulled into a ponytail. Brown eyes locked on yours and when she smiled sheepishly at you, you noted how it lit up her whole face.

“Sorry, that was way out of line. I’m terrible at flirting and I thought I was being smooth. Forget I said anything,” she said quickly, moving to walk away.

“Wait,” you call out, your mind still trying to process the last few seconds. The woman stops, turning back around to face you, nervously clasping her hands in front of her. You stand and walk over to her, noticing that she was a few inches taller than you. “You were flirting with me?” you ask, unsure why someone as beautiful as her would even notice you.

“Uh, yeah, not very well apparently,” she replies before sticking out her hand in front of her, “I’m Emily by the way.”

You take her hand, and you feel a fluttering sensation in your stomach. Huh, butterflies, you think to yourself. “I’m Y/N,” you say shaking her hand.

She lets go after a few seconds, and you both continue to stand there in silence. You wrack your brain for something to say, but come up blank.

“So rough morning?” she asks, nodding toward your cup of coffee sitting on the table.

You chuckle briefly, “Not so much rough, just long and coffeeless,” you reply with a shrug.

She laughs lightly and your stomach does a somersault at the sound. Wanda’s face floods your mind, and you feel a pang of guilt before stamping it down. You were allowed to talk to cute girls right?

“Well, maybe you’d like some company?” she asked shyly.

You opened your mouth to respond but Natasha walking out of the conference room and calling your name stopped you.

“Raincheck?” Emily supplied hopefully and you nodded your agreement. You gave her your phone number and she promised to be in touch before you walked over to join Natasha.

“Don’t even start,” you began when you made your way back to your friend, noticing the smirk that was forming on her lips.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied, her smile growing.

True to her word, Emily called you later that day to ask you out. Seeing her number appear on your screen set the butterflies off in your stomach again. You spoke for a few minutes and organised a time and place to meet the following evening.

The next day found you filled with nervous anticipation. You could barely concentrate on training and the team kept making jokes about your lack of focus, Natasha having filled them in on your date. You wanted to be mad at her, but you were too excited to really care. You were a little worried about how Wanda would take the news, but she just smiled at you and told you to enjoy your night, although you noticed that the smile seemed a little forced.

Ten minutes before you had to leave found you downstairs pacing a hole in front of the door.

“Would you relax already?” Natasha asked, looking up at you from the armchair in the lounge room next to the front door.

“Sorry, I just don’t know how to act on a date,” you respond, playing with the rings on your fingers to channel the nervous energy.

“Where are you going anyway?” Bruce asks as he strolls into the room, a tub of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other.

“Ooooh, gimme!” Natasha demands reaching out for the dessert. Bruce sighs before handing it over, knowing better than to argue with her.

You roll your eyes at your friend’s antics before answering the question, “Uhh dinner and movie downtown.”

You hear a scoff from behind you and turn to see Wanda standing there. You raise an eyebrow at her and she grins at you.

“Sorry,” she begins, “but dinner and a movie is a bit cliche don’t you think?”

You fold your arms defensively in front of you, a snarky response on the tip of your tongue, but the doorbell ringing drew your attention away from Wanda.

You huff out a breath, smoothing down the front of your dress before opening the door. The sight of Emily makes you smile, your previous irritation with your ex forgotten. Her hair was down now, falling in soft waves around her face. She wore a black dress that fell to her mid-thigh, showing off her toned legs. She had a denim jacket on to protect her arms from the cold and the heels she wore made it seem like she was towering over you.

“Wow,” you breathed out, lost for words.

She smiled brightly at you, reaching out to touch your arm. “Wow yourself,” she returned and you felt your cheeks flush at the compliment. “Shall we get going?”

You nodded in response, ducking inside quickly to grab your bag. You noticed that Wanda was sitting on the couch next to Natasha, a surly expression on her face. Natasha wore a shit-eating grin, and you hurried to grab your things before she could embarrass you.

“I won’t bother waiting up,” she called out loudly, as you grabbed Emily’s hand and tried to lead her away from the door so you could close it behind you and block out the rest of Natasha’s statement. You were too late though. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” her voice followed you down the drive and toward Emily’s car.

On your date you found yourself enjoying Emily’s company. The two of you talked over dinner and discovered that you had a lot in common, sharing a love of comic books and music. The more she talked, the more you found yourself staring at her lips. During the movie, her hand found yours during the opening scene, and your intertwined fingers lay between you for the rest of the movie. The drive home had the two of you quoting your favourite comedian, both of you laughing over the terrible impressions.

So when Emily asked to see you again, you didn’t hesitate before saying yes. And when she walked you to the door of the compound, you found yourself leaning up towards her to connect your lips. The kiss was soft and sweet, Emily pulled away after few seconds before returning to her car.

You walked inside the house and found Natasha in the same position as when you left, the grin still on her face and an empty tub of ice cream beside her. The rest of the team were thankfully nowhere to be found.

“Don’t even start,” you said, echoing your words from the day before and pointing a finger at the redhead.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she repeated laughing at you as you scurried off to your room.

The next few months fly by. You continue to see Emily, spending time with her as often as your jobs allow. She starts introducing you to her friends as her girlfriend and you can’t help the warmth that spreads through your body when she does.

You convince her to come to the compound one afternoon in April, the warm weather prompting Tony to host a barbeque. Emily charms the rest of the team, and they all welcome her into the group. Well, everyone except Wanda, who you notice is absent. That night, as you lay in Emily’s arms, she confesses her love for you. Words whispered in the dark room that make your heart skip a beat. You reach up and caress her cheek, returning the declaration before sealing your lips together with a kiss.

Emily begins to spend more and more time at the compound. You’re thrilled that she gets along with your friends so well. Dating Emily is easy, you realise. The two of you fit into each other’s life so well, and she makes you happy.

The only thing that dampens your happiness is Wanda. Ever since you and Emily started to get serious, she started acting strange around you. The tentative friendship you had started rebuilding felt tense and strained. She started avoiding you when Emily was at the compound, spending her time in her room.

“She’s jealous,” Natasha told you when you questioned her about Wanda’s strange behaviour.

“She broke up with me, she doesn’t get to be jealous,” you reply, annoyed by the whole situation. Why couldn’t Wanda just be happy for you?

Then one day, not long before the start of summer, Wanda seems to snap out of it. She stops ignoring you, and your friendship seems to return to normal. You’re relieved, glad to finally have your friend back.

When Emily is over, Wanda no longer hides in her room. Instead, she spends a lot of time with you and your new girlfriend. You worry that it will be awkward but the two seem to get along well. You tell Emily about your past with Wanda, and she tells you that she doesn’t care about that as long as your future is with her.

The weather had warmed up considerably, and the team decided to spend a rare day off by the pool at the compound. You arrived a few hours after the team had made their way poolside, having spent the previous night at Emily’s house. The two of you made your way over to the team who were lounging in deckchairs, except for Sam and Clint who were having a competition to see who could hold their breath the longest.

Emily sits down on a chair next to Natasha and the two begin talking as Sam returns to the surface, gasping for breath. You all laugh as he claims that Clint has to be cheating somehow and when no one agrees with him, he begins to look for a new target to compete with.

“Y/N, get in here so I can kick your butt,” he loudly calls out across the pool.

You shake your head at the absurdity of it, but know that he won’t stop bugging you until you agree. “Be right back babe,” you say to Emily, kissing her on the cheek as you stand.

You slip your shirt over your head, revealing your bikini underneath.

“Looking good Y/N,” you hear Wanda call out appreciatively from her chair nearby, “I guess that new training schedule is working for you.”

You flush at the compliment, before diving into the water missing the way Emily’s head snaps up at Wanda’s comment, looking over at the witch with narrowed eyes.

The afternoon stretches on and eventually, the entire team has made it into the pool. Wanda had continued to throw compliments your way most of the day, the poolside cocktails clearly going to her head.

Someone suggests a game of volleyball and you all agree and split onto two teams. You find yourself on Wanda’s team, Emily on the other side with Natasha.

The game starts off as casual fun but soon turns competitive, and no one is surprised with the personalities involved. The points go back and forth for a while, with no team having a real advantage over the other. Finally Tony declares the next point the winner, stating that he was going to order some pizza for dinner.

Sam served the ball and a rally began, everyone trying their hardest to claim victory for their team. After a minute or so, Wanda hit the ball up for you to spike over the net, Steve dove for the ball but it hit the water with a resounding splash and your team was declared victorious.

You all cheered loudly, Wanda jumping on your back in the pool, her arms around your shoulders and legs locking around your waist. She leaned over and pressed a kiss to your cheek, as you gloated to Steve.

“I uh, think I’m going to head home,” Emily said quietly before exiting the pool and grabbing her towel. She started to make her way toward the gate and you unlock Wanda’s legs from around you, swimming toward the edge of the pool and running after her.

“Em, hey what’s up?” you say as you reach her, water dripping from your body as you try and catch your breath.

“I just don’t appreciate watching someone flirt with my girlfriend right in front of me,” she blurts out, and you notice that tears are beginning to form in her eyes.

“That’s just Wanda, she flirts with everyone,” you tried to reassure her.

“I don’t see her flirting with Nat,” she countered, raising her eyebrow.

“Only because Nat would kill her if she tried,” you try and joke, frowning when the tears begin to spill down her cheeks.

“Nat was never in love with her either,” she says softly, looking down at her feet.

“I thought you didn’t care about my past,” you say, brushing the tears from her cheek, “I love you and only you,” you continue bringing, raising her head to look into her eyes.

“It’s not just today though, do you notice how whenever I’m around she’s always complimenting you or finding an excuse to touch you?” Emily meets your gaze now, her eyes narrowed.

You shake your head, trying to figure out where all this is coming from. “Wanda is just my friend,” you say, your voice pleading with her to believe you.

“Promise?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper.

“I promise,” you reassure her, pulling her in for a hug.

After the day at the pool, you start to pay more attention to how Wanda acts toward you. You find that Emily was right, Wanda was always throwing compliments your way or finding an excuse to touch you.

You tried to discourage her, but she didn’t seem to get the message. You couldn’t come right out and say it, you were sure that Wanda wasn’t even aware she was doing it. Plus, you kind of liked the way it felt when she called you sweetie or rested her head on your shoulder.

It was nearing the end of summer and Tony had decided to throw a party to celebrate. You were excited at the chance to dress up and dance with your girlfriend all night, but at the last minute, she was called away for work.

Sulking, you made your way to the party anyway. Natasha had refused to let you waste a perfectly good dress and an open bar, so there you were, sitting at a table in the corner wishing your girlfriend was here with you.

“Come have a drink with me,” Natasha said, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you to the bar. By the looks of things, she had already had a few drinks herself.

You made it to the bar and ordered a drink, sipping it slowly while you scanned the room.

It seemed like Tony had invited half the city, the dance floor was crowded with bodies moving to the beat of the music, people crowding around tables talking and laughing loudly with each other. Natasha had ditched you again in order to go talk with Clint, the two of them leaning on each other for support, a table full of empty glasses in front of them.

“Hey stranger,” you hear and turn to see Wanda sitting down on the stool next to you at the bar.

“Hey yourself,” you reply, noticing the flush of her cheeks and her dilated pupils, indicating that she had had a few too many drinks herself.

“Whatcha doing?” she asked, swinging her legs in front of her like a child. It was then you noticed what she was wearing and you gulped. She wore a sheer lace red dress that left nothing to the imagination, her hair cascading over her shoulder.

“Just thinking,” you hummed, taking another sip of your drink.

Wanda’s smile fell, “About her?” she said quietly, almost too quiet for you to hear over the music.

You didn’t respond, not knowing what to say.

“I miss you,” Wanda continued, looking up at you from under her eyelashes.

You sighed before replying, “I’m not doing this now Wanda, you’ve clearly had too much to drink.” You stand from your stool before walking away.

You knew you shouldn’t have come tonight, everyone was preoccupied and now you had to deal with your drunk ex-girlfriend saying things that were starting to confuse you. You shake your head to clear it, maybe the alcohol was affecting you more than you thought.

You walk down the hallway to the bathroom, thinking you could take a few minutes to freshen up and clear your mind of Wanda before going back to the party.

As you neared the door you felt a hand grab your wrist and tug you toward a dark corner. Your breath hitches when you recognise the scent of peaches, and you feel Wanda push your back against the wall.

“You look absolutely incredible tonight,” she whispers leaning in, her thumb stroking your cheek.

“Wanda, wha-” you begin but she places her finger on her lips, stopping you mid-sentence.

“Shhh,” she said quietly, and her free hand goes to your waist, squeezing it lightly. “I meant what I said before, I miss you.”

You lean into her touch, your breath becoming ragged. She leans down and places a light kiss against your collarbone. Your breath hitches in your throat, your body erupting in goosebumps.

“I miss waking up in your arms, I miss talking to you about everything and nothing at all, I miss feeling safe and loved by you.” She says as she moves her lips up to the base of your neck.

“I miss being close to you, I miss the way you taste, I miss hearing you scream my name” she continues, dragging her lips up your neck. Your legs feel like jelly, every nerve in your body on fire.

“Does she make you forget your name the way I could?” she whispers into your ear, her breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine.

“Do me a favour?” she asks, pulling back to look you in the eyes, her stare full of lust. “Think of me fondly when your hands are on her.”

With that, she turns and walks away. You gulp, maybe you weren’t as over Wanda as you think.

Part Four

Taglist: @halobaby @chasethemoon @supersourlemon13 @cristin-rjd @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @royalityofmultifandom @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff @madamevirgo @afuckingshituniverse @millennial-teenybopper @anotherunsuccessful

#wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda marvel #wanda mcu #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda x you #jealous wanda #s writes stuff #kate if you find this no you didn't

342 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 5 years ago

Text

Sweet Talkin’. Yan Dabi x Reader [COMM]

There’s been an abnormal amount of sirens tonight.

It should be unnerving -- and to an extent it is -- but this isn’t what keeps you awake. Not that, or even the dogs barking outside accompanied with an occasional derogatory yell. With a heavy heart, you can say that you’ve gotten used to all of that noise. No, it’s something different that steals you from the welcoming comfort of a deep slumber.

The thing that truly keeps you up is the anticipation of what is to come. Or more precisely, who.

The bright glow of your phone strains your tired eyes, but it’s your best shot at finding entertainment. Squinting at the blinding light, exhaustion seeps into your being despite your best efforts to ward it off. No matter how much caffeine you drink later on in the day, it’s not enough to to thwart your natural inclinations to sleep.

For most, nighttime is a relaxing time of day that’s coveted. It brings a time of solitude, to reflect and rest up for the next day. While you wish you could return to the days where you felt like that, it’s long behind you now. Instead, you evade sleep, in fear of what could occur when you’re in the defenseless state.

An illusion of control is better than none at all.

“You’re gonna get dark circles under those pretty eyes if you keep staying up this late.”

A deep voice rumbles from the entrance to your shared room, one that you instantly recognize. Even in your groggy state, your emotions heighten in his presence. Turning off your phone and placing it down, you stretch your arms out, a yawn leaving your lips in the process.

So he’s back.

“Yeah, yeah…” you grumble back, caring little for the teasing comment. After feeling around your nightstand, a click resonates, light illuminating your room. Once your eyes adjust, you spot your unwelcome visitor, who makes himself at home. Dabi walks towards you, your bed creaking under his added weight as he sits down. Untying his shoes, he throws them carelessly in the corner.

Sensing your staring, he looks over his shoulder and grins at you. “Awe, you miss me or somethin’? How cute.”

A groan leaves your lips, and you reach to throw a pillow at him. He easily deflects it with a snicker, working on taking his shirt off next. At least now that he’s back you feel more inclined to sleep, knowing that he can’t sneak up on you. Splatters of dark vermilion catch your attention, mouth curling downwards into a frown.

If there’s anything you’ve learned in your time with Dabi, it’s that you shouldn’t ask where the blood stains come from. Ignorance is bliss, right? It’s still an unnerving sight, especially since you know it isn’t his.

The relationship you two share is nothing if not unconventional. His occupation -- if you can even call it that -- has him coming and going at unholy times at night. Sleep is difficult to come by, not knowing when he might make an appearance. It’s what leads you to stay up some nights, a preferable experience to tossing and turning with anxious thoughts plaguing you.

As long as you stay in your designated place, Dabi holds true to his promise of doing you no harm. Thinly veiled threats under the pretense of being your “roommate” lead you to the current day, an awkward routine settling in. For all it’s worth, it could be worse. You’re acutely aware of what Dabi is capable of, having seen the ashes of corpses blurred out in the news.

Why he’s taken a liken to you is beyond you. It still beats dying, only by a sliver.

“There are some leftovers in the fridge,” you tap your phone, reading the time. Three in the morning. Great, and you have work tomorrow too. “I think I’ll give sleeping a shot now that you’re back.”

Dabi raises an eyebrow at this, a fresh shirt without blood stains now on. “You always sleep when I get back. It hurts my feelings. What, am I not good enough company?”

‘If I’m being honest, not really.’

He grins at how you shiver, lazily crawling over to be by your side. His sudden presence fills your nose with unknown scents, ranging from smoke to burnt leather. Underneath is hints of his cologne, all mixing together to disorient you further. Dabi loves riling you up, testing the limits of what you can handle.

You take a deep breath, hugging your knees to your chest. As long as you don’t let it get to you, it’ll be fine. He always gets bored eventually, leaving you to do as you please. That’s what you’ll aim for.

“It’s not that. I just have stuff to do tomorrow, and I don’t like being exhausted. It’s my long shift.”

His trademark grin melts away, furrowing eyebrows and a grimace taking its place. Mentioning your life outside of him is a tricky battle, and you can’t help but regret mentioning it. Being in a sleep deprived state is a major disadvantage in your interactions with him.

“This again? I thought I told you to quit. Rent or whatever won’t be an issue, I’ll handle it.” Dabi scoots closer to you, wrapping an arm around your bare shoulder. His skin feels rough against yours, coarse hands rubbing circles into you. You bite your lip at the sensation, hair on the back of your neck standing.

“I... I like my job. Sure, it can be irritating at times, but it gives me something to do during the day. I’d go stir crazy without something concrete to focus on.” The words are heartfelt, unfiltered. When he responds in silence you worry you’ve made a mistake, upsetting him with your defiance.

He huffs against your neck, lifting his head and shooting you a displeased look. His voice is a low murmur, one that reverberates into the core of your very being. “Always making trouble for me..."

Dabi’s grip around you tightens, and you gulp thickly. With how casual he speaks to you, it can be easy to forget the major power imbalance. Instead of greeting you with insults, or worse, he lightly flicks your forehead.

You blink, baffled.

“Don’t most people hate their jobs? I figured you’d be jumping at the idea of having more free time, or whatever. So you can focus on other things.”

It’s not a confession you were expecting, your cheeks flushing at the considerate nature of his words. While it’s true quitting your job is an appealing thought, it creates a semblance of balance within your now chaotic life. Helping you stick to a schedule, in the same way school used to.

Now feeling confident in expressing yourself, your taut muscles relax into his touch. “I’m too tired to think about it properly, if I’m being honest. I don’t know how you can stay up this late all the time without losing it.”

Deflecting from the previous topic makes you feel better. If Dabi notices your intentions he doesn’t point them out, allowing you to take control of the conversation without complaint. He must prefer it over when you’d just shake and cry in his presence.

“You get used to it, sweetheart,” he drums his fingers against you, smirking. “I’ll make a night owl outta you yet.”

Any implications in his words go straight over your head.

“As tempting an offer as that is, I think I’ll pass. ”

He shrugs at your indifference, removing his arms from your frame. The lack of enveloping warmth causes you to shiver, Dabi searching through his bag. You peak over his shoulder out of curiosity, his scarred hands settling on an object which he pulls out.

It’s a copy of Animal Crossing, in all of its beautiful glory. You wipe your eyes, unsure if what you’re seeing is reality.

“W-what?” you guffaw before your brain has the chance to stop you, jaw agape and head tilted. Dabi places it on your lap, and returns to his previous position of holding you. There’s clear amusement in his eyes at your stunned state, relishing in your every reaction.

“Did I get the wrong thing? This is that game you wanted, isn’t it?”

It had to have been a week or so ago. You lamented to him about not being able to afford this, not even realizing he was giving it any attention. To think he remembered, and acted on it for your sake... is a touching sensation. Maybe he is capable of selflessness after all.

The cute box art puts a smile on your face, one that Dabi stares at.

“I have to say, I’m surprised,” you pick it up, looking at the back with wide eyes. “Did the cashier give you a funny look when you picked this out?”

‘I really need to start thinking before I speak.’

He shakes his head at your blunt comment, not taking any offense. “I didn’t get it that way.”

‘Oh, well... better not ask more than necessary. There’s no blood on it so at least that’s a good sign.’

Wiggling free from his grip, you rotate your legs over the side of the bed, intent on getting your switch. An opportunity like this must be taken advantage of, and you’ve wanted to play this game for some time now. Dabi must’ve read your mind, and pulls you back to him with little effort before you get the chance.

“If I remember correctly, you said you were tired just a few minutes ago.”

He plucks the game from your fingers, and places it on the side furthest from you. What a cruel world this is, to have paradise so close and yet so far. You can’t help the pout that forms at his actions.

“The situation changed, I’m wide awake now.” you explain to an unmoved Dabi, launching over his lap to get your coveted game back. He picks it up, lifting it over your head with a chuckle. So that’s how it’s going to be.

Defeat settling in, you retreat for now. A sigh leaves your lips, arms crossing over your chest. You should’ve known better, Dabi has made it clear to you that he wants your attention. Looks like you’ll have to wait until after work to get a taste of Animal Crossing.

There’s a glint of mischievous in his azure eyes, one that you’ve seen more often than you wish. Dabi sighs in mock hurt, placing a hand over his heart. “Not even so much as a thank you for my efforts. That’s cold, babe. Real cold.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. Thank you, it means a lot.”

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue. “That’s not what I was looking for. Try again, sweetheart.”

A flurry of thoughts fly through your mind, all competing with one another to offer a solution. Does he want money for it? He should know that you’re not capable of producing that amount, or you would’ve bought the game for yourself. Dabi gives you a moment to think, before offering the answer to you.

He puts his pointer finger on your lip, maintaining eye contact while doing so.

“Oh, t-that.”

“So glad to see that you’re finally catching on.”

It could be the summer heat winning over your AC, the room suddenly feeling warmer than it did a few moments prior. You look down at your blankets, focusing on anything other than the person in front of you. This level of teasing is nothing new with Dabi, he always manages to fluster you.

He sits, relaxed, waiting for you to make a move. There aren’t any other options that you can think of, so you give into what he wants. Moving closer to his face, you feel his warm breath fanning against your skin. Your hand twitches, pressing against his chest to offer balance.

Squeezing your eyes closed, you tilt your head, soft lips brushing over his own. All of your movements are hesitant, your entire body feeling like it’s on fire. Heart pounding violently against your chest, you move to pull back. Only to discover his hand on the back of your head is stopping you from doing so.

Dabi slants his lips back over your own, nibbling your bottom lip. You freeze, the unexpected affection leaving you incapable of reacting. It’s when you squeak that he finally loosens his grip, opening his eyes to take in your embarrassed countenance.

All things considered, it wasn’t an unpleasant experience.

You cover your burning face with your shaking hands, feeling the warmth emanating off of you. He makes it even worse by chuckling, the low rumble filling you with indignation. There never is hope of catching a break with Dabi.

“You might be the one with a fire quirk after all,” he leans forward, placing a hand against your hot forehead. “Mm... that look you’re giving me is too much. You have to be doing it on purpose at this point.”

Fed up with his relentless teasing, you smack his hand away and purse your lips. He props his arms behind his head, letting you glare at him to your heart’s content. From his lack of reaction, you get the feeling he isn’t too intimidated by you.

“Whatever, I’m going to bed,” you huff, returning to your side and pulling up the blankets. He doesn’t make a move to stop you, and you take the opportunity to lay down on your side. Refusing to look at him, you focus on the wall.

Dabi pokes your cheek, which you ignore.

He lets out a long sigh at your antics, joining you underneath the covers. You hear shuffling behind you, and can’t help but wonder what it is that he’s up to. Maybe he’s succumbing to his own exhaustion, and will let you sleep in peace? What a perfect world it’d be if that’s the case.

The thought is entertained for three seconds before you’re pulled against his firm chest from behind, toned arms snaking around your torso and staying there. His body is always so warm. It doesn’t help that you’re already embarrassed from before. Dabi grumbles something incoherent, placing his head in the crook of your neck.

Accepting the situation for what it is, you stop moving. He reaches over you to turn off the light, and darkness surrounds you once more. All you can hear are your own labored breaths, and rapidly pounding heart. It might be impossible to sleep like this.

You’ll call out of work for tomorrow.

“... Dabi?” you whisper, voice soft and barely audible. He grunts in response, nuzzling further into your neck. For the past few months, there’s been a thought that haunts you at every turn. One that you can never find an answer to, and have been too frightened to investigate beyond your own musings.

It’d be easy to play this off as sexual attraction alone, yet a voice in the back of your head says otherwise. That what Dabi feels for you goes beyond that, into a sinister territory that you want desperately to avoid. Why is it he’s patient -- borderline kind -- with you, yet cruel to everyone else? None of it makes logical sense, his actions erratic and seemingly without reason.

Maybe you shouldn’t know. Still, you ask, against your better judgement.

“Why do you like me so much?”

You feel how he smiles against the skin of your neck, the sensation stirring up unknown emotions within. He squeezes you against him once, letting out a low hum as he considers your words. While waiting for him to speak, you hold in a breath.

“Dunno. Just do,” Dabi offers a noncommittal response, one that leaves you greatly unsatisfied. It seems he’s not even aware of it himself, the effect you have on him unlike anything he’s ever experienced. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

“... Alright, I won’t.”

“Good. Now get some sleep, before I ask you to kiss me again.”

#dabi my hero academia #Dabi #dabi x reader #dabi imagine #dabi headcanons #yandere dabi imagines #yandere dabi #yandere dabi imagine #yandere dabi x reader #bnha #bnha imagines #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #yandere bnha #yandere #my hero academia #my hero academia imagine #yandere my hero academia #commissions

3K notes · View notes

quillsandtypos · 4 years ago

Text

Who you callin boyband?

Summary: anon requested calling the sunset curve boys a boyband and Luke reacting. Based off of Carlos calling then a boyband in the show.

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: none

Pairing: luke patterson x reader

Sorry I'm late to the anon who requested this!

...........................................

Their band had sounded amazing, as per usual. When Julie asked you if you could come watch to see if their song felt good enough for their next gig, you happily agreed. Though truthfully, you weren’t certain what she was worried about, they always sounded amazing and of course today was no exception.

“That was amazing you guys!” you chirped.

“Really?” Julie asked uncertainly.

“Definitely, I think that’s actually one of my favorites that you’ve made so far,” you assured her.

“See I told you guys she would like it,” Alex remarked from the back. You could tell from the phantom’s faces that there was a story behind his comment, but you didn’t bother asking.

“What do you guys say to some pizza to celebrate?” Julie suggested.

You agreed but you weren’t entirely certain Julie could even hear you over the boys chanting. Julie finally turned to you after they had quieted down.

“Yeah, I’ll take some,” you laughed.

“Great! I’ll let my Dad know,” she said, as she headed back up to her house. You watched her go, but your attention was soon diverted to the boys.

“You guys have to be the most pizza loving people I’ve ever met,” you teased.

“Then, you clearly have been hanging out with the wrong people,” Reggie commented.

You shrugged, “Maybe so, but you guys and pizza have more chemistry than Luke does on stage.” You took delight in the momentary look of shock on Luke’s face as you took a gulp from your water bottle. You almost thought you had him until the shock turned into a slick smile as his eyes flicked down towards yours.

“Does that mean you’re checking me out y/n?” Luke hinted. You could hear Reggie let out a oooooh in the background, but you choose to ignore it. Luke could recover quickly, you had to acknowledge that.

“Hate to break it to you Patterson, but I’m trying to manage the whole band. Not just you,” you slyly remarked.

His smile became more apparent. “But you didn’t answer the question.”

“He’s not wrong,” Alex pointed out. Reggie did finger guns towards him in agreement.

You crossed your arms and desperately hoped they didn’t realize how embarrassed you were. You leaned off the couch slightly and looked over to where Reggie and Alex were sitting. “For your information boyband, I was not checking Luke out,” you scoffed. You hoped they bought it, but that was evidently not the part that Luke was stuck on.

Luke tilted down so his arms rested at his knees, so he would be at your sitting level. “Wait, who are you callin boy band?”

“Uh, I don’t know, maybe the boy band in the room,” you said, as you gestured at them.

Luke crossed his arms too, sporting a pouty smile. “We are not a boy band.”

“You are boys. In a band. How are you not a boy band?” you argued.

“Y/n’s got a point there Luke,” Reggie agreed.

You pointed to him, “See, at least someone who’s logical is here.”

“Hey!” Alex started.

“Not you, that was directed at Luke,” you informed him.

“As you were,” Alex gestured at the two of you.

It wasn’t until you looked back at Luke that you realized your closeness to him. He couldn’t have been more than a foot away from where you sat. You cleared your throat, and you quickly tried to dismiss the thought from your mind.

“So boy band, why did you guys think I wasn’t going to like your new song?” you asked. They all exchanged seemingly panicked looks.

“Well it’s not that we thought you weren’t going to like it,” Alex trailed off.

“But like more of a general standpoint,” Reggie continued.

“Because it’s new,” Luke finished.

You suspiciously looked between the three. “Alright, what are you guys hiding?”

“Hiding? Us? Psssh,” Reggie scoffed. “I mean, it’s not like Luke-” He was cut off by Alex pressing a hand to his mouth.

“It’s not like Luke would’ve known whether you would like the song or not, is what Reggie was saying,” Alex offered as an explanation. The stink eye that the two were giving Reggie would’ve killed him on the spot if he weren’t already dead.

You were about to ask what was so important of a secret that

Reggie needed to be tackled, but Julie walked in.

“Did I just walk in on the middle of something?” she asked.

“Nope, just the boyband and their secrets,” you assured her with a slight smirk.

“Boyband, that’s new, I kinda like it,” Julie added.

Luke turned to head to the side with his mouth slightly agape as you bit down a laugh. “Thank you, that’s what I said.”

Julie was picking up on Luke’s annoyance and decided to play along. “Maybe I can get Flynn to change our name to Julie and the boyband,” she suggested.

“Oh my gosh, wouldn’t that be just perfect!” you exclaimed, being sickly sweet.

“You two are evil,” Luke said, as he threateningly pointed at the two of you.

You delightfully smirked. “What can I say Lukas, it’s my speciality,” you taunted. Reggie’s eyes went wide at the mention of his full name and Julie and Alex exchanged an amused look.

“What was that?” His grin was becoming more predatory by the second. He stood up to look down at you, and you took that as your cue to hop off the couch to face him.

“Did you miss what I said, Lukas?” You made sure to put extra emphasis on his name.

“No, I didn’t sweetheart,” he taunted back. You saw Julie raise her eyebrows from behind Luke’s shoulder. On one hand you hated that nickname but on the other hand you couldn’t tell if the growing heat on your face was from embarrassment of the name or the fact that Luke Patterson was calling you that. But you knew that you couldn’t let him know that.

“Mhmm, no we are not doing that,” you asserted.

He moved his face close enough to talk, you weren’t certain the others could hear him. “Well then don’t call me Lucas,” he bargained.

The words slipped from your mouth before your brain had a chance to realize what you were doing. “Make me,” you insisted.

You wished you could have disappeared in that moment, but alas you were stuck watching this as much as your three other friends were. When you finally opened your eyes to see what horrors you had in store for yourself, you first made eye contact with Julie; she looked rather surprised but almost a tint of impressed. You heard someone behind you clear their throat, and you turned around.

“I think we should go check if the pizza guy is here, right Julie?” Alex suggested.

Julie’s eyes went wide in realization of what was happening. “Right! Yep! You two stay here and hold the fort down!” She told you and Luke before practically sprinting out of the studio. You turned back around to see Reggie still standing there.

Alex quickly poofed back in and grabbed him as he incomprehensibly mumbled something.

Luke turned his attention back to you. “Make me, really y/n? That’s like the best you could come up with,” Luke crossed his arms.

“What would you prefer me to say?” you questioned. Something in Luke’s demeanor broke for a moment. His infamous smirk faltered, revealing something far more vulnerable behind it. “Luke, what are you guys hiding?” The puzzle pieces started to click into place about the day’s practice.

“Do you really want to know?” he timidly asked. You hadn’t seen him as nervous as he was at that moment.

You intently nodded your head.

“The guys were trying to keep it a secret, but I wrote that song myself about someone,” he shyly explained.

“Luke! That’s really cool, I knew there had to be a reason why I liked it so much.” You playfully bumped his hand.

Your response puzzled him. “You don’t want to know who it’s about?”

“Luke, your friends are not very good at keeping secrets,” you laughed.

“Are you serious?” he dumbfoundedly asked.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. “Reggie accidentally told me last week,” you admitted.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Luke muttered, but you could see his lips twitching upwards.

“But he kept my secret, because he didn’t tell you that I like you back.” The last bit of your sentence was slightly mumbled as you tilted your head to the floor in embarrassment.

He softly grabbed your jaw and pulled you back up to his level.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch the last part.” And just like that, his smirk had returned.

You forced yourself to look up into his sparkling hazel eyes. “I like you, a lot, Luke.”

As he heard your words you swore you saw the fire in his eyes grow brighter. “I like you a lot too y/n.” His face was mere milimeters away from yours.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly.

Your eyes flicked from his lips back to his eyes. “Of course Patterson.” The gap closed between the two of you and it was like two worlds collided. His lips were slightly colder than yours as they softly melted into yours. You felt his one hand clutch your cheek softly, as the other held to the back of your neck. Your hands instinctively went to his hair as your kiss developed into something deeper, until the both of you had to swim to the surface for air.

As you caught your breath you realized that there were three very shocked occupants at the studio door.

You saw Reggie and Alex silently hand Julie ten bucks. “So do we have to watch you guys have eye sex still or are we good now?” Julie teased.

“Jules!” you groaned.

“She’s not wrong,” Reggie said as he walked past you.

Luke chuckled at your flustered state, “Yeah, I think we’re good now,” he responded, sending a wink in your direction that you rolled your eyes at.

“Great cause we have pizza!” Alex announced.

“Oh yay!” You were grateful for the attention being taken off of you.

“So does this mean that you were checking me out during rehearsal?” Luke asked, as you took a bite.

You rolled your eyes, but you decided to indulge him. “Yes, Patterson, I was checking you out.”

Alex grimaced. “Ohhh big mistake, he’s gonna hold that overhead for at least a month,” he warned.

You turned to Luke who clicked his tongue and finger gunned towards you in agreement. You resisted the urge to groan at your newest annoyance.

“But you’re stuck with me now,” Luke said with a mouthful.

“Luke, really?” Julie commented.

“Sorry,” he said, with his mouth still full.

You grinned at him, and despite his previous threat, you couldn’t be happier that you were finally stuck with him.

358 notes · View notes

mysmegrace · 4 years ago

Note

hey i hope your game is working normally again , can i please request the rfa with an mc who has a part time job as an animator/artist ?

hello~ yes, my game is working well now! i think it might've been the network (i heard like a day later that something happened to it, idk exactly im not very tech savvy lol). i love the request btw.

RFA with an MC who Has a Part Time Job as an Animator/Artist

--- yoosung kim:

the pandemic had effect many things in your lives.

from his university classes to your late night outs.

one of the upsides you found in the time was the fact that you could work straight from your bed now.

you couldn't think of anything better

waking up ten minutes before your start time and sleeping in the comfort of your home during your breaks.

life was finally going in your favour.

and yoosung was in a similar position.

only he wasn't working, just attending university.

the sequence of events had led you to this moment.

you had woken up alongside the sun to start your work for the day, yoosung laying right beside you about to join a class.

you rose your head every once and while to give him a smile of encouragement, yet he wasn't getting the message.

did you want to do something right here?

right now?

while he's just joined a class?

with his cheeks becoming visibly more red, he reckoned a little affection wouldn't hurt.

it wasn't like the teacher could see him.

and he wasn't about to lie and say he was paying attention anyway.

going to wrap his arm behind your neck, he glances upon your project for work.

from the first second he laid eyes on it, it amazed him.

his curiosity was peaked as he started questioning your occupation.

he'd come to realize that he never actually asked about your job, he just knew you had one.

"i'm an animator, i only work part time though" you said with a hint of pride evident in your voice.

he was becoming increasingly more intrigued.

but after you explained many of the ups and downs of your part time job, he gave you his full support.

even asking if you'd be willing to teach him some time.

but nothing too hard, he doesn't want to embarrass himself.

after his class was over, you offered to show him your past works, in which he welcomes with open arms.

you continue to knock him off his feet.

hyun ryu / zen:

"zen zen, what do you think about this?" you ran up to him saying with excitement.

he looks up to meet your eyes after you caught his attention, before redirecting his focus to the tablet you held in front of him.

he was stunned.

it wasn't something he was expecting.

he never knew you were so good at drawing.

with his mouth hung slightly open, he began saying "it's amazing mc, how did you do this?"

he was truly floored, and you took notice of it.

"i've been drawing from a young age and now i make art part time for people who would like to buy my work" you explained.

he was insanely supportive from the get go.

knowing that you were able to make an income from your passion was comforting to him.

being glad you were able to achieve these accomplishments, he wouldn't want to let you work on your own.

granted he couldn't help you, his art wasn't one somebody would invest in.

but he could help in other ways.

hence why he offers to bring you supplies, help with project ideas, and love you from the sidelines.

jaehee kang:

"i've gotta make it to my other job now jaehee, but i'll see you later" you screamed as you ran to catch the bus.

the day was a success, going out with jaehee and shopping together.

however, your words had completely caught her off guard.

shes aware that you two haven't known each other for a long time, but it didn't change the shook that came over her when she heard.

sitting down, catching your breath from the short run you just came from, you decided to check your phone.

after all, there's not much else to do on the bus.

not too long after your departure, you receive a text from jaehee.

"i wasn't aware you had another job, what is your part time job?" it read.

oh, right.

you hadn't told her yet.

but what time was better than now?

"i'm an animator" you responded, waiting in suspense for the next text.

and you weren't waiting long, as the familiar sound of your messenger went off.

"animator? that's really awesome mc, can you show me some of your work?" it read.

you could feel as the smile creeped up your face, not able to hold back your excitement.

yet wasting little time, you send several screen recordings of your previous work that has done incredibility well.

"i'm speechless, that's so amazing" jaehee responded after a few minutes.

the overwhelming of positive emotions that had just come over you wasn't unwelcomed as you held the phone ever so closely.

knowing jaehee was proud of you was enough to make you cry tears of joy.

jumin han:

"but how was your day mc?" he says, changing the topic.

he had come home with the fatigue slowly overcoming him.

the fact that his father had introduced him to a new girl wasn't exactly helping either.

you wanted to talk to him about it more, but you knew better than to make him keep reliving the moment and experiencing the same emotions again.

hence why you took him up on his offer to change the topic.

"well, i finished my recent art project" you said, sipping the wine your husband had recently poured for you.

you watched as his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"art project?" he questioned, encouraging you to elaborate.

and that you did, explaining how you made art for people as a part time job.

staying quiet for a second, redirecting his focus to the red liquid in front of him.

suddenly, he speaks up, saying "let me see it".

with a quick nod, you hop out of the seat to go pick up the project.

only to return a few seconds later, handing your artwork to him.

you watched intensely, following his eyes as he examined the piece in his hands.

"i'm quite impressed" he says, eyes not leaving the art.

"thank you" you mustered up in response through your excitement.

hearing that jumin was impressed by your skills made your day.

the conversation ended at the same speed it started, soon changing the topic.

but the new expensive supplies that laid in your little make-shift office was a reminder that he always had your best interests in mind.

as long as he could make you happy, life would be fine.

saeyoung choi:

"hey, i made that!" you practically screamed with excitement.

your time has finally come, the time you had been dreaming about since you were a little girl.

growing up on anime to seeing your animations being used in an anime made your life complete.

your attention broke as saeyoung reminded you of his presence, saying "wait, you made that?"

you turned to face his laying figure on the couch, nodding aggressively with a huge smile plastered across your face.

he always told you how contagious your smile was, and his point was proved as he began to duplicate your excited smile.

standing up to hug you, he started questioning you as if he were cosplaying an interviewer.

""when did you do this?"

"why did you do this?"

"how did you do this?"

you had to place your hand firmly on his chest to calm him down.

giving you time to explain your part time job as an animator.

how you've dreamed of this as a child and how grateful you were to be able to pursue your passion.

and saeyoung couldn't be prouder.

he felt like a father watching his child receive their first award.

your happiness made him feel incredible.

and your talent astonished him.

after the initial excitement died down, he offered his help in any way possible.

anonymous, of course.

he would do anything to make you happy.

achieving your dreams was something he never experienced until he met you, and he would never let you down.

---

00:32 AST - 08/10/21

81 notes · View notes

mrsalwayswrite · 4 years ago

Text

To Call Forth Love- Chapter 8

Guys, I’m so sorry this chapter has taken me so long to get out. My family was sick for awhile (nasty stomach bug) so i barely had any time to write, and then this chapter took me forever to edit. Plus this chapter just kept getting longer and longer…oops?

Also, writing sexual tension is my jam but writing actually smut terrifies me. There is a bit of mild smut in here (spoiler) so feedback is always appreciated!

Lastly, a huge thank you to everyone specifically who has commented! I cannot tell you how much your encouragement means to me!

Warnings: mild smut, swearing, Ivar being Ivar, fluff

Words: 12,000 (omg, what??? why didn’t someone stop me?)

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe

Series Masterlist

Kari blearily reached over to turn off the alarm on her phone. It blared from the small table she used as a nightstand. Though she considered herself a morning person, there was something about waking to an alarm, forcing you to jolt to wakefulness, that was never easy to do. Laying on her back, she rubbed a hand down her face, eyes still closed. At least she was not opening the studio this morning. Sasha was back so most of the openings did not fall on Kari anymore. She would never tell her boss but those two weeks were rough.

"Fuck. What time is it?"

Immediately, her eyes flew open. In the next second, she shrieked and thrashed in the bed, not expecting a deep, gravelly voice coming from her bed. Why was someone in her bed? She definitely went to be alone last night. She always went to be alone. Panic surged through her as she spun around to put space between herself and her unexpected companion. Although the rapid movement, and still only being half awake, caused her to almost fall off the side of her bed. She just managed to catch herself, leaving her half sitting, half crouched like some gargoyle at the end of her full-size bed, clutching the pale lavender comforter and white sheet gathered precariously around her.

"What the fuck was that for?" Her visitor growled as he laid on his back, an arm thrown over his face.

"Ivar?" Her panic was slowly abating as she realized it was not some stranger in her bed. Though her mind still felt muddled as to how he ended up here. "What…. what are you doing in my bed?"

"I told you last night. Fuck. Did you forget already?"

"I…. I thought I dreamt that."

That got his attention. His arm moved to his side so he could stare at her with those intense blue eyes and a naughty smirk on his lips. "Do you dream of me often?"

She ignored his question, thinking back to the conversation they had during the night. Even though it was hazy and felt more like a dream than any real conversation. Then it hit her. She was not wearing a bra.

"Oh my gods, don't look!" Without hesitation, she rolled off the bed and dashed to her closet.

"What?"

"Don't look!! Ivar, please!"

"Why? Fuck. Stop shouting too."

"Because...because I don't have a bra on!"

He chuckled, folding his arms behind his head to shamelessly watch her. "Mmmm…. I noticed last night."

"IVAR!!"

She grabbed a cute sports bra, feeling beyond self-conscious in her gray, cotton sleep shorts and matching thin, cotton t-shirt. Ignoring the man in her bed, she rushed to her attached bathroom. As she quickly donned her leopard print, strappy sports bra, her mind tried to remember last night. All her mind could recall was waking up with him behind her, they talked…. she questioned him…. he said something about missing her and he had a key. That made her groan softly. Why did he have a key? How did he get a key? Looking into the mirror, she quickly fixed her messy hair, throwing it into a quick bun. So many questions swarmed her mind, all dealing with how to best handle this newfound situation she found herself in. Why could things with Ivar never be simple?

Once ready, well as ready as she was going to be for being startled awake, she stepped out of the bathroom and moved to stand at the end of the bed, hands on her hips. "You have a key."

Ivar had rolled onto his side, eyes closed. "Can we talk about this later? What fucking time is it? Why are we fucking awake?" He grumbled, not even looking at her.

It was now that Kari finally noticed that her bed's current occupant was shirtless. A handsomely toned chest and back were impossible to ignore, making her mouth suddenly feel dry.... and those tattoos.... She rigorously shook her bed, dispelling the distracting thoughts. Now was not the time for ogling. As calmly as possible, she answered Ivar, dropping her gaze to the rumpled sheets. "It's seven and I have to get ready for work."

"Call in."

Her head jerked up to stare at him. "What?"

"Call in to work. Don't go in." He repeated firmly.

"Ivar, I can't just do that. I have to be there in two hours."

He finally shifted and opened his eyes to look at her. It was unfair how handsome he looked lying in her bed with the morning sunlight peeking through the curtains over her window. Now was not the time to think about that. Mentally, she prepared a rebuttal for whatever scathing thing he was going to say, only for it to die dramatically on her tongue.

"Whoa, your eyes…." Subconsciously, she took a step closer as if physically drawn to him. Now with the haze of sleep and panic gone from her mind, she was able to fully see how the typical blue seemed to leak into the whites of his eyes. It was disconcerting to say the least. His intense eyes were now even more extreme.

"I know." He snapped, turning away from her and rolling back to his side.

"No, no, no. You don't get to do that. You already owe me so many answers." She crawled onto the bed and over to him. Although frustrated with him, the way he tried to ignore her and hide his face away made her worried. Gently, she brushed the few loose strands of hair off his cheek. When that did not even get a reaction, she gripped his chin and turned his head. "What's going on?" She asked softly.

"Nothing."

"Ivar, you answer me honestly or I'm going to walk out of this room right now and start getting ready for work."

In an instant she watched as the pain and fear in his eyes morph into anger. His gaze hardened and his lips pressed together as if sealing in the venom-laced words just waiting to come out.

"Ivar? Talk to me." She tried again, but at his furious look, she pulled her hand back.

Silently, he rolled over to the side of the bed. She watched as he reached down and began strapping his leg braces on over a pair of black sweatpants.

"Ivar?"

"It doesn't fucking matter."

"Yes, it does, whatever it is."

With his braces on, he pushed off the bed, stumbling for a moment before catching himself. His back still turned to her, he hobbled over to where his t-shirt, shoes and cane were.

"Please…." Tears welled up in her eyes. It was stupid to be getting so emotional over this. But never before had he shut her out like this. She hated how much it hurt. And it shouldn't hurt this much. Since the beginning she reminded herself frequently she needed space from him. But now that he was pushing her away, giving her that space…. she hated it. She wanted him back, teasing and smiling. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Fuck. Fine!" He spun around, shirt in his hands and flames in his frenzied gaze. "Every few months, my eyes look like this, and it means I'm more likely to break a bone. It happened more often when I was a child. Now I know to just lay around in bed otherwise dumb fucking things happen and my shitty bones break. There. Fucking happy now?"

"Thank you for telling me. And I'm sure you've heard this a million times, but I'm sorry."

At her apology, he yelled and threw his shirt across the room. The shirt slammed into her closed bedroom door. "Fuck your pity! I don't fucking want it!"

The echoes of his shout hung in the air. He stood there with fists clenched and chest heaving, glaring daggers at her. A tendril of fear snaked itself up her spine. A brief memory of Hvitserk warning her came to mind and she wondered if this was what he meant. She remained frozen, sitting on her bed, concerned if she moved it would set him off.

After an excruciatingly long minute, Ivar closed his eyes and roughly ran his hand through his loose hair.

"Ivar, why did you come here last night? Why not go home?" She quietly asked, twisting and untwisting the sheet around her hands.

"Seems I made a mistake." He scoffed, staring towards the window. "I'll leave so you get on with your day."

"Gods, that's not what I'm saying! Ivar, please! I'm just trying to understand. Please just…. just talk to me."

"It doesn't fucking matter anymore." He snarled.

"You said you didn't want to be alone…. last night….at least, I think so." She said hesitantly, more to herself, recalling their conversation, than actually speaking to him. To her surprise, after a moment, he seemed to deflate right before her. His shoulders slumped, head tilted forward to stare at the floor. In the blink of an eye, he changed from a cornered, snarling wolf to looking like a kicked puppy. Cautiously, she crawled off the bed and slowly approached him. The whole time he never moved but neither did he raise his head to acknowledge her. After taking a deep breath, she tenderly cupped his face. Her words were just above a whisper. "Push me away if you want to…. I’m just…. I’m just trying to help. What can I do? Please?"

After a second, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers and placing his hands on her hips. They stayed there for several seconds, neither saying a word. Though she could almost feel the internal war being waged within him. His thumbs rubbed back and forth on her sleep shorts. Her hands slipped from his face to the back of his neck, one carding through his hair gently as she gave him time to think.

Finally, he breathed out. "Stay with me…. please."

Her heart fractured at the quiet brokenness in his voice, the masked pleading in his tone. How often was he forced to be alone throughout his life, lacking connection and attention that he so desperately wanted.

"Ok, I'll try and call in. If not, I'll…. we’ll figure something out, alright?"

He nodded, turning his head to nuzzle her temple. She giggled at the sensation and tried to escape but he only pulled her closer. After a couple more moments of teasing, he allowed her to guide him back to the bed, a smile on both of their faces. He sat down on the bed, forearms on his legs as he watched her.

Trying to ignore his focus, which she was positive was not on her face, she grabbed her phone and called the studio. She paced nervously, tugging slightly on her sleep shorts in a vain attempt to cover the amount of her thighs showing, as the phone rang. Thankfully her boss was the one to answer.

"Hi, Lydia. Something has come up. Is there any way someone can cover my classes today?"

"Are you alright?" Her boss asked, immediately going into concerned mom-mode.

"Yeah, I'm fine….um, it's, um…."

The phone was abruptly snatched from her hand. She spun to see Ivar talking on it, an amused smirk on his face. How he had managed to sneak up behind her unawares, she could not figure out.

"Hello, Lydia, yes? You are Kari's boss?" Ivar questioned, taking the couple steps and dropping back onto the bed. "I apologize for inconveniencing you by taking Kari's time. My ride to my doctor's appointment fell through at the last minute, and I have a rare condition which forces me to go get checked often. Kari was kind enough to…. hmmm? Yes."

There was a long pause from Ivar's speech, clearly listening to whatever her boss was saying. Kari was unsure if she wanted to throw something at Ivar or die from embarrassment. As she started to walk past him, still pacing due to nerves eating at her, Ivar grabbed her arm. Next thing she knew, she was bodily yanked onto the bed. Before she could squirm away, he snatched her feet, forcing them into his lap. Pressing the phone against his ear with his shoulder, he began to massage the bottom of her feet. She should be mad at him, she really should but suddenly she felt relaxed and blissed out. His touch was the perfect amount of rough and gentle, kneading and rubbing like it was his profession. A moan accidentally escaped her and she covered her face with her hands, barely hearing the chuckle come from him.

He finally spoke into the phone again. "I understand. Yes, I promise…. that sounds like her. Yeah, I plan on changing that soon…. bye."

He set her phone down on the bed, and continued his ministrations, never ceasing his relaxing touch.

"What, ah, what did she say?"

"She said you've never taken a day off or had a sick day, so you are overdue for one. She hopes I feel better and that you do a good job of taking care of me." He answered then turned his head to look at her with a mixture of shock and bemusement. "You really haven't taken a day off?"

"I didn't have a reason to."

"No reason? I don't know, how about to do something fun? Spend time with friends? Day drinking? Watch movies? Not deal with people? Fuck, there are plenty of reasons to skip work."

"I don't have friends to skip with." She mumbled to herself, her eyes having drifted shut on their own accord. It was a truth she had realized and sort of come to terms with.

He must have heard it though. "You do now." He said with something like a promise in his tone.

She opened her eyes to look at him, his face turned downward to focus on her feet. Now she was able to really look at his tattoos and his broad, sculpted back. The sweeping lines of ink seemed to emphasize the strength apparent in his muscles. It was truly a masterpiece. Her eyes greedily sketched over his bare skin, wondering what it would feel like under her fingers.

"Like what you see?"

A blush warmed her cheeks at having been caught staring. "They're beautiful. What are they?"

"The tattoos? Mostly Nordic tribal designs, some are specifics from the Sagas."

Curiosity burning, she pushed herself up, almost leaning against him with her chest barely touching his shoulder. With one finger, she started tracing one of the designs which began on his back and moved over his shoulder to end on his chest. "Did they hurt?"

He scoffed, head slightly tilted to watch her. "I've been in pain most of my fucking life. This was nothing."

They sat in silence for several minutes, him still rubbing her feet and her tracing his back and shoulder. It felt strangely domestic and intimate, but more importantly, it seemed natural for them to be in this position, relaxed and at ease with one another.

"What do you want to do today?" She asked in a hushed tone, peering up at him.

With a wicked smirk, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"No! Not that!" She swatted his arm lightly, yet she could not help but laugh as he pouted adorably. "What do you normally do on these days?"

That quieted him. His body tensed slightly under her and he pointedly returned his gaze to her feet. She switched from tracing his tattoos to just running her hand up and down his bare back soothingly.

After a couple of seconds, he answered, his voice resigned and frustrated. "Movies, TV shows, video games, reading. Anything that will keep me in bed and resting. Sometimes my mother or Floki will come play chess with me."

"But you're usually alone?"

His lack of response was telling enough.

"Well on the days I don't work, I always lay around in bed for as long as possible then make a full English breakfast. Should we start with that?" She proposed, hoping that would cheer him up. Honestly, she had no idea what to do for him today, but feeding him seemed like a good start. Besides, her stomach was beginning to rumble.

"Yes, but first…." In an instant, he wrapped his arms around her and tackled her to the bed. She shrieked as her back suddenly hit the bed again which promptly turned into giggles at the silliness of it. A sharp inhale escaped him, silencing her. She watched a pained expression swiftly cross over his face before it vanished, only the lingering hints of pain in his eyes. After a moment, he shifted them so they laid facing one another.

Feeling bold, she touched his cheekbone, gazing into his vivid blue eyes. "I don't know why, but your eyes like this remind me of a crystal ball. Think you can see my future?" She teased.

His hand landed on her hip once again as he grinned. "I can. Want to know what I see?"

"Mmmm?"

"You’re going to kiss me."

She giggled. "I do? You sure that's not just your imagination?"

"I am no mere mortal. These eyes prove my divinity and with that I can see into the future." He leaned closer, his breath fanning across her mouth tantalizingly. "And I see you, with those pretty pink lips, kissing me right now."

Her breath hitched in her throat at his close proximity and the way her mind easily recalled what kissing him felt like. "And what would happen if I do?"

"You'll have to find out. I can't give away everything about the future…. unless you choose to worship me as your god. I can make you my favored priestess and bestow favors on you."

"Favored priestess?"

"It's a highly coveted job."

"I'm sure it is." She deadpanned but unable to keep the amusement from her voice. Overly aware of her actions, she ran a hand down his chest, feeling the muscles twitch under her palm.

The increasingly blurry line between friendship and something more screamed at her. Even just the way they were laying on her bed, the memories from her upbringing reprimanded her actions. Her grandmother telling her chastity was a virtue and to not let a man touch her. How God would frown upon anything remotely sexual outside of marriage. Yet her lips tingled at the memory of his kisses. She could not deny to herself how much she enjoyed them. How sometimes she found herself fantasizing about kissing him and letting him pleasure her again. Which was wrong. They were just friends. Even if the alluring draw to him was irrefutable. A single kiss would not hurt though. Maybe that would be enough to satisfy the heat currently curling in her belly. Hopefully.

"One kiss." She murmured, nervous excitement heating her blood.

Immediately, he leaned closer, his lips just skimming over hers teasingly. Gently, he tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth, drawing a needy whine from her. His hand on her hip tightened as he released her lip, only to press a lazy kiss to her mouth that spoke of contentment and familiarity. Their mouths moved languidly, lips barely parting as if they had all morning to just enjoy the feeling and taste of one another. All too soon, in her opinion, yet not soon enough for now she desired more, he pulled back but just enough to brush the end of his nose against hers.

"I told you, you'd kiss me." He playfully said.

"You're unbelievable."

"I am your god now. You can't speak to me that way."

"Uh huh." She rolled her eyes, then gently pushed on his chest. Following her movement, he allowed himself to be pushed onto his back with a smug look the whole time. "Come on, your priestess is making us breakfast before our stomachs rumble anymore."

"I like this. I could easily get used to this arrangement."

"Sure. You alright going down the stairs?"

"I'm not that incapacitated." He snarked, a flash of anger passing through his gaze.

She chose to ignore that. "Alright, I'll meet you down there."

Slipping off the bed, she headed downstairs to the kitchen. Thankfully her roommate was not at home this morning, otherwise she was baffled how she would explain Ivar's presence to Alana. Soon she needed to figure out what to do in regards to that. Ivar clearly had no intentions of leaving her alone. Plus, the more time she spent with the youngest Lothbrok, the more she found herself becoming distraught at the idea of him no longer in her life. This morning, she chose to ignore that predicament, content with enjoying making breakfast for them.

Humming softly to herself, she pulled the necessary items out for their breakfast. Soon bacon lay on the cast iron pan, the first hints of sizzling filling the air. Eggs and sausage waited for their turn next. The sounds of the coffee pot percolating made her smile as she danced around the kitchen. Distantly the sounds of Ivar moving around upstairs could be heard.

A sudden knock on her door caused her to freeze as she pulled some bread out for toast. Her mind scrambled to try and think of why someone would be at her door this early. Then she remembered.

"Shit! Erik!"

Racing as if on fire, she turned the stove off and hurried to the front door. Yanking the door open, she was met with the sight of Erik standing there in his business casual trousers and a button-down long sleeve shirt.

"Erik, hi. I'm so sorry." She gasped out, holding the door open.

His green eyes swept over her body rapidly before meeting hers. "Um," he cleared his throat, "I thought you wanted a ride today?"

"I do, sorry, did. Ah, something came up. I'm so sorry, I should have text you."

"Ok, is your phone off? I texted you about fifteen minutes ago."

She lied, tugging on her ear nervously. "Yeah, I forgot to charge it overnight. I'm so sorry for making you wait around for me. It's my fault you'll be late to work."

He shrugged, rocking back on his heels, a small smile on his face. "It's fine. My boss is lenient as long as we get our work done and don't miss any appointments."

"Oh good." She smiled in return; happy he would not get reprimanded because of her. He already did so much to help her out. As they spoke, it did not go unnoticed how his eyes continuously drifted down to the large amount of skin exposed by her sleep shorts. Self-conscious, she spoke again, hoping to distract from her body, even as his clear interest made a blush rise to her cheeks. "Is there something I can do to make this up to you?"

"I still haven't thought of how you can pay me back for gas money."

She chuckled at his shy look as he confessed. "We can put this on my tab too. Maybe I'll make you dinner or something?"

Erik opened his mouth to respond when a shout caused his mouth to snap shut.

"KARI!"

Closing her eyes for a moment, Kari silently prayed to whoever was listening for patience to deal with what she knew was about to occur.

The tapping of his cane and loud footfalls were enough for her to know Ivar was approaching. She turned to look at him and immediately wanted to smack her forehead against the doorframe. Of course, he had decided to forgo his shirt.

"Who the fuck is this?" He growled low once he was close, the predatory look in his eyes undeniable. In this moment he resembled a snake ready to strike without hesitation, more than someone who was in chronic pain. Standing there next to her, only wearing sweatpants and the braces over his legs, he was the one who seemed more runway ready than Erik in his business casual outfit.

"Ah, hi, I'm Erik Redsen." He said skeptically, eyeing the dark-haired man like he was unsure if he needed to grab Kari and make a run for it or talk to him about taxes. "I live next door. I was supposed to give Kari a ride to work this morning."

"Well, she won't be needing one anymore." Ivar snapped harshly.

"I can see that….and you are?"

"Ivar. Ivar Lothbrok."

Erik's eyes widened comically as he scanned Ivar with new eyes. "Right. Are you two…. friends?"

Before Kari could explain, Ivar beat her to answering. He shifted behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her flush against him. "You could say that. We have a very…. satisfying relationship. Don't you agree, kitten?"

At this point, Kari was positive her face most likely resembled a tomato. She tried to push his arm off her, but he only tightened it in response. "Ivar." She hissed.

"Mmmm? I'll wait for you in the kitchen. You did promise me breakfast after such a vigorous morning." He planted a hot, open-mouth kiss on her neck before he looked up at Erik with a disarming smirk. "I'm sure we'll see each other again; I plan on being here more often."

"Ah, sure. Nice to meet you." Although Erik sounded anything but pleased as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

Leaning heavily on his cane, Ivar slowly walked towards the kitchen area; though it did nothing to negate the aura of danger surrounding him.

Once he disappeared from view, she let out a sigh before turning back to Erik. "He's just a friend. It's complicated. We don't….um, yeah. He's a friend." She tried to smooth over but even to her ears it sounded weak.

"It's alright. Um, I need to get going. I'll…. I’ll see you around."

"Ok. Hey, think you're free to shop this week?"

He smiled shyly, walking backwards down the short driveway. "I'll check my schedule and text you."

"Thanks. Bye, Erik!"

She closed the door after he saluted her, making sure to lock it. Taking a deep breath, she mentally girded herself for the inquisition that was about to happen once she entered the kitchen. She had to stick to her guns in this. It was OK for her to have other guy friends, there was no rule that said Ivar had to be the only one. Besides, she had known Erik longer anyway, so he would have priority. She doubted Ivar would appreciate that sentiment though.

In the pause before returning to the kitchen, she also tried to use that time to douse her libido. She was upset with Ivar for the clearly possessive action towards her; while simultaneously, between the tight hold against firm body and that salacious kiss, arousal coursed through her body. It was infuriating how her body reacted to even the simplest touch from him. If he knew how much she was puddy in his hands….

Once she felt in control of herself again, she headed towards the kitchen. Ignoring what just occurred seemed to be the best way of handling that awkward interaction. Erik was her friend and that was none of Ivar's business.

The dark-haired Lothbrok sat on a bar stool, leaning on the island that faced into the kitchen. Though his face remained impassive, his gaze was hard as stone, silently demanding her to explain.

Wordlessly, she returned to preparing their breakfast. Turning the stove on again, the bacon started to sizzle. Thankfully, the coffee had finished brewing so she poured herself and her brooding companion a mug each. A little milk and sugar went into hers, and she made sure to leave them in reach so Ivar could fix his own coffee.

Attempting to ignore the obvious tension swallowing the air in the small kitchen, she focused on making their food. Sausages were cooked, along with eggs, toast and tomatoes. She would have loved some black pudding but her roommate refused to let her keep some in the fridge, so Kari was forced to stop buying it. As she silently moved about the tiny kitchen, her mind worked on cataloging what she had potentially for them to eat for lunch and dinner. Which did not consist of much. She could try and make something but cooking was not her forte. Ordering out seemed the best idea. Although she did have popcorn so they were set for watching movies.

Suddenly Ivar's smug tone broke through her thoughts. "Erik Michael Redsen. Twenty-eight years old. Works as a personal banker downtown. Went to school for art history. Well that was fucking stupid."

"Gods, Ivar!" She turned on him, horrified. "Did you just do a background check on him?"

"How much do you really fucking know about this guy?" He demanded with a threatening undertone.

She sighed, trying to decipher if he was coming from a place of possessiveness or actual concern for her safety. With him, it could go either way. Returning her attention to making their breakfast, she put the salt and pepper away as she answered. "Honestly, not much. We don't really hang out. We carpool to the grocery store and sometimes he gives me rides to work so I don't have to take the bus. That's it."

"Take the bus." He mouthed as if it was a foreign concept. He then slammed his hand on the countertop, making her jump at the unexpected noise. “Hell no, you aren't riding no fucking bus. I'll have my driver take you to work."

"No."

"No? No, what?"

"I'm not using your driver."

"Fine. I'll buy you a car!"

"No! I can't…." She turned to really look at him, pushing her ego aside to be transparent. "I can't afford a car right now. We also don't have space for me to have one here. Besides, I don't mind taking the bus."

"I'll pay for everything with your car."

"Ivar, you're not listening! I don't want one! Thank you for offering but I'm OK. I like riding with you in your car but I don't need my own right now. I wouldn't have anywhere to park it anyway."

He tilted his head to the side, looking at her with a peculiar expression.

"What?" She sharply said.

"You don't…." He stopped himself, rubbing a hand over his mouth, as if choosing his words carefully, before continuing. "You really don't care about my money, do you?"

"No, why should I?" She chuckled, putting their food on the two ceramic plates she pulled out. "Honestly, it's kind of intimidating."

He barked a laugh, as he seemed to stare off into space.

A flashback hit her to her conversation with Gyda a couple days ago. She peeked over at Ivar, wondering what Pandora's box she was accidently going to open with her question. "Your ex?" She asked softly.

He tensed for a moment, staring into his coffee mug. For a moment, she thought he would ignore her question or rebuke her for asking. Instead, he silently gave a single nod, not meeting her eyes.

How many times was she going to feel her heart break for this man? How many times did he feel used? Abandoned? Unwanted? At what point did the aloof and cruel mask he wore become a permanent fixture to protect his heart?

Wiping her hands off on a towel, she walked around the counter to come up behind him and wrap her arms around his shoulders. "I promise I don't like you just for your money or name or whatever other stupid thing people have done to you. I like you. For some unexplainable reason, I like you, though you do have the habit of pissing me off."

"You like me, huh?" He teased, relaxing into her embrace.

"Don't let it get to your head. You won't fit through doors anymore."

He laughed loudly at that. "You sound like Floki."

After giving him a gentle squeeze, carefully of his fragile state, she walked back around to finish up the last touches of their food. "I kind of want to meet him but I'm also scared, you know?"

"He's harmless since he doesn't carry around his axe anymore."

"That's…. what? That's not reassuring."

He just smiled…. and somehow, she was less comforted than before.

She finished up their plates, setting Ivar's in front of him on the island, and placing hers in front of the other bar stool next to him. They both began eating, drawing a pleased grunt of approval from her companion.

"I don't trust him."

"Who?" The brunette covered her mouth, having taken a bite of eggs. The last thing she wanted was to spew food all over Ivar. There was no way he would ever let her forget that.

He narrowed his eyes at her as if her question was redundant. "That Erik guy. He wants to fuck you."

"Well, he isn't going to since I'm not interested in him." He grumbled, but before he could speak up, she cut him off. "You, sir, still owe me an explanation of how you got a key to my townhouse."

"Hmmm…. Let's say your property management didn't need much…. persuasion….to hand over a spare they kept on hand."

"I'm not sure if I should be concerned or not."

He winked at her as he bit into a piece of bacon.

Pointing her fork at him, she hoped he understood how crucial this next statement was. "You can't just show up here whenever you want."

Chewing on a piece of toast, he just stared ahead with a cool expression.

"Ivar, I'm serious. We're lucky Alana isn't here this morning."

"I noticed that, where is she?"

"She has an early day at work today."

He hummed, digging into his food.

She opened her mouth to further press on the importance of her statement but changed her mind and sipped on her coffee. He was already moody enough, if she continued to pester him about this, his mood would only darken. Later, she could reiterate her stance. There was no way he was going to give up the key he had. However much she thought it was weird and unfounded for him to have a key, it was just so…. Ivar to think it necessary. That did not seem a battle worth fighting over. Him just randomly showing up, that was something they needed to set rules on.

They finished eating their food and decided to watch a movie next, both keen on the idea of laying around in bed. When Kari reminded him that they would have to use her laptop to watch a movie if they went back upstairs, he grumbled loudly, saying something about fixing that but she paid no mind. After cleaning up, they headed back up to her room. When she went to argue it would be better to watch a movie downstairs on the TV there, she noted how he slowly ascended the stairs, holding onto the handrail with a tight grip, and how he gritted his teeth. Biting her tongue, she kept her comment to herself, instead rushing up the stairs to grab her laptop and set up her bed for his arrival.

He made it to her room but instead of coming to the bed right away, he hobbled over to where his shirt lay. She watched, curious, but also admiring his body. A heat curled low in her belly as she watched his muscles tense and the ink dance across his skin. He was truly a beautiful specimen of masculinity.

With something in hand, he came over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Here."

She took it from his outstretched hand, seeing it was the newest iPhone, which wasn't even supposed to be released until that Friday. "How? Wait…. why?"

He unstrapped his braces, setting them on the ground. "I told you I was getting you a new phone."

"You didn't have to; my phone is just fine."

"It's a piece of shit." He grunted as he dragged himself to lean against the wall, in lieu of a headboard. "Besides, this one had better security features. I already programmed some of them and I can show you the rest later. I'll switch your Sim card for you too."

"Ivar…." She started to argue but was cut off when he snaked an arm around her waist and tugged her against him.

"Just say 'thank you, Ivar' and shut up. I want to watch a movie."

"Thank you, oh gracious, benevolent god." She said in a sickly, sweet voice as she batted her eyelashes at him.

"Cheeky." He nipped at her earlobe, causing her to squirm. Pinning her against his side once more, he pressed his mouth to her ear and he whispered in a husky tone. "You can call me that whenever you want."

A bolt of desire shot through her at his voice and the wicked images it painted in her mind. Her traitorous heart began to beat a rapid tattoo in her chest in excitement. Shifting the laptop in her lap to distract herself from her body's unconscious reactions, she teasingly answered. "I'm sure your brothers would love that."

"Fuck them. They know I'm better than they are anyway."

She rolled her eyes at his cocky comment. "What movie are we watching?"

"None of your shit." He snatched the laptop from her, scanning the streaming service. "I'm buying you a TV for your room next."

"No, you aren't." She mumbled, as she shifted to lay down.

Her bedroom was by no means Spartan but it certainly was on the sparser side. Her bed took up most of the space, the only other furniture was the two small tables, one holding her jewelry box and her plants and the other she used as a nightstand. All of her clothes and shoes she kept in the closet, some hanging and some in plastic drawers. Besides the pile of clean clothes in the laundry basket she needed to fold and put away, but she ignored that. Her beloved books were lined up neatly on the windowsill or a couple stacked on the nightstand. The only decoration she had on her walls was a stick-on wall decal that was the quote 'not all who wander are lost' in a flowy script. Even her suitcases and yoga mat were shoved under her thin metal-frame mattress.

There were a couple other knick-knacks around but she had purposefully kept her space simple. Just for the fact if she needed to suddenly pack up and move….it would not be difficult. However depressing of a thought that was.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she laid her head on her pillow, listening to Ivar mutter about the lack of good choices. Eventually he picked out some movie she had never heard of before. He stayed reclined against the wall with her laptop in his lap, a pillow against his lower back. From where she laid next to him, Kari could see the screen but found her eyelids staying closed. To the sounds of gunfire, swearing and some man yelling "motherfucker" often, she dozed off.

*****

When she cracked her eyes open, it was to be met with a pair of captivating eyes already staring at her from the pillow next to her.

"You know you drool when you sleep?"

Absent-mindedly she wiped a hand over her mouth and sure enough found the traces of drool there. "Sorry." She said, voice still coated in sleep. "How long was I asleep?"

Ivar laid on his side facing her, arm tucked under his head and the laptop nowhere in sight. "Almost two hours."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize how tired I was."

"I ordered us lunch. It should be here soon."

"Thanks."

They laid there facing one another. From this angle she was able to admire the tattoos across his chest and the Thor's hammer necklace hanging from his neck. Gingerly, she reached over and touched one of the tattoos on his chest, only for it to jump under her finger and make her squeak in surprise. He laughed as she mock-glared at him, then rolled onto his back. When she made no further movement, he snatched her hand and laid it upon his chest, silently giving her permission to continue her exploration. He placed both of his hands behind his head, eyes intent on her the whole time. With that, she shifted closer, to sit up and gaze down at him. Her hand returned its tracing of his decorated skin, admiring the lines of both color and his sculpted body.

"I always wanted to get a tattoo." She quietly confessed, watching her hand trace the colored lines on his skin.

"Why haven't you?"

She shrugged. "My mother would've been livid. Plus, I could never fully decide on what I'd get. I want something that…. means something…. not just a cute design."

"I'll take you if you want."

"To get a tattoo?"

"Why not?" He sounded almost offended, but the upward tilt of his lips betrayed his amusement.

She giggled. "Ok, when I decide what I want, you can take me."

He hummed his agreement. Her attention returned back to his magnificent body, dragging her finger from his chest up his shoulder, following one of the tattoo's lines. She wondered what kind of tattoo she would get. Part of the reason she never got one was she did not want to go alone and if Ivar was offering to take her, maybe it was meant for her to get one. Something small, probably. She liked the look of minimalist tattoos. Perhaps on the inside of her wrist or her ankle? The idea made her smile. This could be another step for her to choose her own future, to solidify her own identity. Even it felt strongly rebellious compared to the values of her family. She was forging her own path, without their influence any longer.

Ivar abruptly sat up, startling her from her inner musings. In one swift movement, their faces were close enough she could feel his breath on her lips. She sat spellbound, unable to pull away, causing her heart to race. His eyes landed on her lips, eyeing them like a choice morsel to be consumed. His smoldering gaze made her mouth go dry. The tension, the desire, heated the air between them until she wondered if it alone could burn them.

That craving she fought so ardently threatened to overwhelm her. The yearning for his touch, for his lips on hers, to show her what only he could give her. Never before had she been so consumed by someone, to desire them so much she struggled to maintain her vow. It was infuriating, the constant battle. Wanting to draw closer, to give in and allow him to sweep her away. Yet her mind screamed at her to pull away, to maintain the status quo, to only allow friendship between them. Even if that line was blurry at best. It was something at least. A line she needed, to protect both of them.

Forcing herself to pull back, she witnessed a flash of hurt and anger cross his eyes before her gaze dropped to her hand still on his chest. Her breathing felt erratic, matching her heartbeat. They stayed there, caught in a stalemate, neither drawing closer or further away. A dance they subjected themselves to on more than one occasion, each time still as tangible and dangerous as the last.

Luckily, a loud knock on the front door echoed up the stairs, breaking the spell over them.

"I bet that's the food, I'll go…. I’ll get it."

Wordlessly, he dropped back onto the bed, jaw tensed and eyes made of ice.

She quickly retrieved the food from the delivery, surprised to see it was sandwiches, chips and drinks from a local favorite of hers she had mentioned once in passing. She carried the bag and cups upstairs, worried how Ivar's mood would be now. Would the rest of the day be awkward and tense? On numerous occasions, she reminded him they were just friends, even if he seemed to hate that notion….and her heart begged for more. It could not happen.

Entering her bedroom, surprise filled her to see him sitting up in the bed, the laptop next to him queued up to Netflix.

"What do you want to watch?" He asked casually as if nothing had happened.

"Um...have you heard of The Last Kingdom? Some of my coworkers said it's really good." She slipped back into her spot and handed him his drink cup.

"It's alright."

"Would you want to watch it with me?"

"Sure." He turned to slyly grin at her. "Hopefully you don't fall asleep this time."

"I'll try my hardest." She quipped.

They sat up against the wall, eating the food with the laptop near their knees. What potential strain she worried would exist never occurred. A part of her wondered what that meant while another part chucked it up to Ivar's mood swings. Either way, she was grateful.

By the second episode, the trash was disposed of and the laptop moved to the side table. Kari lay back against the pillows bunched behind her, half sitting up, half laying down. Ivar had his head on her stomach, an arm slung over her hips, fingers caressing the exposed skin of her thighs. She ran her fingers through his unbound hair mindlessly as she watched the tv show.

Eventually his arm over her withdrew, his hand drawing random patterns on the strip of skin exposed between her sleep shorts and shirt. Too absorbed in the show and in a comfortable position, she did not pay much attention to his actions. It did not take long for her core to subconsciously start to clench as his fingers slipped past the waistband of her shorts. She tried to ignore it, figuring he was trying to get a reaction out of her. Even if her attention was now split between the show and his provocative touch. His fingers traced her skin just under the waistband of her shorts. After several minutes where she started to relax, his fingers inched a little lower, toying with the top of her underwear.

She knew she should say something, to stop him from touching her but a flood of new sensations prevented her. Never before had anyone touched her like this. Her ex had tried but she refused to let him. Now though, it was as if invisible cords held her down, forcing her compliance. Her body possessed by his simple touch and curious about what he would do next. Her hand stilled in his hair, using it to anchor herself. His hand creeped lower. His fingers lightly grazing her outer folds. Her hips jerked instinctually. His head on her stomach prevented her from moving away. Pressing a soft kiss to her exposed skin, he chuckled lowly. A stirring sensation swirled between legs, something she had only felt one other time. Then with a barely-there touch, his finger traced her womanhood.

"Ivar…." She whined, though if it was encouragement or reprimand, it was unclear.

He lifted his head to look at her as his fingers continued to gentle caress her sex. "Has anyone touched you?"

She shook her head, mouth suddenly dry and words unable to escape.

Staring at her, he slipped a single, thick finger into her sex.

Her eyes slammed shut, a gasp falling from her lips at the foreign sensation. Her back arched slightly as her body made to accommodate the pleasurable intrusion.

"Look at me, Kari. I want to watch you." He commanded,

Her eyes snapped open, meeting his starved gaze. The naked desire in them sent a chill down her spine. Under his gaze, she was paralyzed. Slowly, his finger slid in and out of her. The heat in her belly steadily grew between his actions and his hungry eyes that seemed to feast on her pleasure.

After a few passes, he surprised her by sliding in a second thick finger. Her gasp transformed into a moan at the strange feeling of being full. The lewd sounds of his fingers easing in and out of her and her wetness overshadowed the TV show still playing but ignored by both. Her body began to feel hot all over, sweat forming on her skin. Without her conscious permission, her hips started to rock with his fingers, desperate for more friction, chasing a release only he could give her.

"That's it, kitten, good girl." He praised. His thumb rubbed a circle over her clit, making her body try to shoot off the bed at the sensation though he held her down easily. Whimpers slipped from her lips. Completely pliant under his touch, she made no attempt to escape. The fire coursing through her veins deterred her, the need for more overshadowed her own fears.

Still gazing at her hungrily, he leaned forward and licked her breast over her t-shirt. Her breath stuttered, chest heaving at the jolt of electricity that scorched her. It was all becoming too much and yet not enough. Her hips ground against his hand unashamedly. Lips parted as she panted for air. His hand played her like an instrument, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. This time when he licked her breast with one long swipe, he rubbed her clit at the same time. The sensation was devastating, pushing her over the edge. With a cry of his name, a wave of pleasure overwhelmed her. His fingers continued to pump into her, helping her ride out her orgasm.

Finally she laid there, unable to move, unable to even think. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as her lungs fought for air. He chuckled at her, making her flush even more. Agonizingly slow, he dragged his hand out from between her folds, only to pop the two fingers that had brought her to completion into his mouth and loudly suck on them.

"Fuck, you taste amazing." He groaned, still eyeing her with a purely predatory look. Leaning over, he nipped at her breast, then laid on his side next to her.

"What…. what about you?" She managed to ask, the delirium of bliss dwindling.

He raised an eyebrow.

She pointedly looked at the obvious bulge in his crotch and back up at him.

"Have you ever….?" His question trailed off while a crooked smile lit up his face.

She blushed, tugging on her earlobe. "I've...um, never actually seen one in real life."

"Gods, you're so innocent." He chuckled, shaking his head amused. A second later, he rolled onto his back and folded his hands behind his head. When she made no move towards him, he rolled his eyes and taunted her. "Well? Or do I need to pull it out for you too?"

Biting her bottom lip, her eyes darted back and forth between his face and his obvious erection. What was she doing? Her grandmother would be horrified. Yet her curiosity reared its head, encouraging her onward. Somehow, she knew with Ivar, she was safe. Not just physically but safe to explore her sexuality, something previously forbidden. He may be irritating at times and possessive at others but she knew he liked her innocence. And with him, touching him and letting him touch her...it did not feel wrong like when her ex tried. No, it felt like being home.

Before she could sike herself out with her frenzied nerves, she reached over and unbuttoned his jeans then slowly drew the zipper down. "Can…. can we take your pants off?"

"No."

His sharp retort had her whipping her head to look at him. Instead of meeting her eyes, he stared up at the ceiling like it personally offended him.

"Um, ok." She licked her lips, debating as what to do next. She tried to imagine what Alana would advise or even Gyda. Carefully and nervously, she guided her hand into his pants and boxers. Her hand wrapped around him and she found herself swallowing dryly. It was at this moment she was unsure what to do. He must have seen the hesitation on her face. Without a word, he wrapped his hand around hers and pulled his cock out, fully exposing it. Her eyes darted to his face and back down to his member.

"Um…. are they always...this…. this big?"

He smirked. "You're good for my ego, kitten."

That did not really answer her question but she doubted now was the time to probe further. She made a mental note to ask Alana…. hypothetically of course.

Her hand was unable to wrap all the way around his cock. Even though having nothing to compare it to, she was positive this was an impressive specimen. Holding her breath, she gently slid her hand from the base to the tip and back down. His cock twitched against her hand, making her giggle but she kept her focus on it. Slowly she repeated the movement a couple more times. With each pass she began to feel more confident. When noticing wetness gathering at the tip, she ran her thumb over it, smoothing it around and found it helped glide her hand along.

She glanced up at him, since he had not said anything either in encouragement or redirection, only to see a pained expression on his face. Immediately she yanked her hand away from him, terrified she was hurting him. "Are you OK? Am I doing it wrong? Does it hurt? I'm so sorry."

"No, fuck." He grunted then inhaled sharply. "No…. it’s just been awhile."

"Oh." She was not sure what to do with that information, so she focused back on her task. Memories of listening to Alana and some of her friends talk, plus a few movies she had seen, gave her some inspiration as she continued stroking him. Before she could talk herself out of it, she leaned over and gave a little lick to the tip of his cock.

"Fuck!" He shouted, hips jumping, hands gripping the sheets tightly.

Seeing his reaction, she felt powerful, bringing this strong man under her control like this. It was alluring to know with just her hand, he was utterly at her mercy. The sweat beading on his forehead, his chest heaving with his fervid, shallow breaths, mouth slightly open. He was always handsome in her mind but seeing him like this, it was captivating. She continued guiding her hand up and down his member, swiping her thumb along the top frequently to spread his precum.

"Fuckkkk, Kari." He groaned out, hands fisted in the sheets now. "I can't…. ah, fuck!"

Suddenly, he grabbed her hand and aimed towards his stomach. In the next second, his cum shot over his bare skin. Thinking how he continued his ministrations after she finished, she pumped him a few more times until he swatted her hand away. His chest heaved as he panted, one arm thrown over his face.

Silently, she got up and went to the bathroom to grab a towel and clean him up. Making a mental note to throw it in the wash before Alana could smell it and know what happened.

She returned and wiped him up, marveling at what just occurred. In comparison to others, she knew this experience was minor but to her…. she felt so wanton, so scandalous. She could not help the silly grin on her face, even as her stomach turned in knots. It went against everything her grandmother taught her, but she could not regret it. Even if it could never happen again.

Once done, she set the towel on the ground. The youngest Lothbrok silently laid there the whole time, arm over his face. The longer his silence endured, the more confusion and apprehension dispelled her confidence.

Finally, she could not take it any longer. "Did I…. was it ok?"

In the next instant, his arms snaked around her and yanked her back onto the bed. Her squeak of surprise was cut off when his mouth descended on her possessively, as if attempting to steal the very air from her lungs. His body hovered over hers, pinning her to the bed as he claimed her lips completely. The way his mouth dominated hers, forcing her tongue to fight with his, the fire that shot through her body at his touch, was intoxicating. She willingly surrendered to him. Her hands tangled in his hair, keeping his mouth on hers. A needy whine slipped from her when their mouths unlocked, only to become a moan when he trailed his tongue over her neck.

"I want to taste every inch of you," he breathed against her skin, pressing open-mouth kisses that were sure to leave marks on her. "I want to corrupt you in every way imaginable."

Her body arched into his touch, weak and throbbing for more. Even his words shot desire coursing through her. Air seemed unnecessary, only his mouth was a requirement to continue breathing.

"Ivar," she whispered in a slow, shaky breath.

That seemed to clear his lust-fueled haze. He shifted to press his forehead to hers, both panting and lips swollen, evidence of their raging desire. After a moment, he rolled over onto his back, pulling her to lay partially on his chest. His hand glided up and down her back soothingly.

As they lay there, Kari knew they crossed a line. Even if she could not make herself regret it, things had shifted between them. At least for her. They were at a crossroads. The entire time she knew Ivar, they had been toeing the line of friendship but this…. for her, this crossed it. And she was not sure what to think about it. Her mind continued to berate her, reminding her that they could only be friends. And not friends with benefits. She made her vow and no matter what, she promised herself to keep it. Even if it meant losing him. That realization felt like a stab in the heart.

"Ivar, what are we?"

"What do you mean?"

She bit her bottom lip. This was not a conversation she wanted to have, but this limbo, this stalemate they resided in...it ate away at her psyche. Her head told her that friendship was the line they could not pass; meanwhile her heart longed for his affection that he so easily bestowed upon her. Tipping her head up so her chin rested on his chest, she watched him as he stared up at the ceiling, an arm behind his head and the other caressing her back. "We're not a couple…. but we aren't just friends either, I think."

"Who the fuck cares what we are!" He snapped harshly. "I'm Ivar and you're Kari. Anyone with a problem with that can go fuck themselves!"

It sounded so simple coming from him, but she knew whatever was between them was far from simple. He knew her choice of remaining friends. Then a thought crossed her mind that seemed to steal her breath away. "Are there….do you do this with other…. friends?"

"Do you?" Those mesmerizing eyes moved to her, staring at her as seeking to penetrate her mind and witness all her secrets.

"If I said yes, what would you do?" She meant the question to be teasing, to add a lightness to the conversation. Yet soon as the question slipped from her, she knew it was the wrong thing to say.

Instantaneously, a menacing glint entered his eyes and tension coated the air like oil. His body slowly moved, forcing her onto her back and leaving him hovering over her like an angel of death.

"I'd fucking kill them." He declared in a terrifyingly calm tone. His eyes were cold as ice as he stared down at her, his lips pulled back in a snarl. All she could do was stare up at him, scared to move. One of his hands grabbed a fistful of her hair, forcing her head to tip upward and bare her throat. Her breath froze in her chest, unable to pull away, unable to escape his hold on her. "You are mine. Do you understand?"

Tears sprang to her eyes unbidden with how tightly he gripped her. This side of him, this cold fury was more frightening than his fiery anger.

"Yes…" she choked out, as he continued to glare down at her.

After a moment, he let go of her hair, smoothing it down. Then he dropped his face into the crook of her neck, laying on top of her. She could feel his labored breath on her skin.

"I can't…." He slowly inhaled, after he pressed his lips to her neck as if in apology. "I don't share. And the idea of you with someone else…."

Her heart hammered in her chest, the residual fear still oozing like molasses in her veins. His hands held her firmly, like that would be enough to keep her. She stared up at the ceiling, unblinking. They laid there for several minutes, both caught up in their own thoughts. Sometimes she forgot how dangerous he was. Why everyone was so concerned for her safety. But this….it frightened her. This side of him that could so easily switch from fiery wrath to frigid terror. She was unsure what to do.

"Kari, I…." His voice trailed off but she could hear the apology in his voice, even if words failed him. "I'm a selfish bastard."

"Mmmm…." She hummed, lips twitching. Her hand ran through his hair. After a long moment, she quietly asked, "Just Ivar and Kari?"

He pressed another soft kiss to her neck, his other hand seeking hers to entwine their fingers. "Unless you've changed your mind?"

She knew what he meant, and to hear the faint traces of hope in his voice made her words feel like lead as they rolled off her tongue. "I'm sorry."

"Why won't you tell me?"

"It's not…. it’s not worth it."

"Then why do you let it affect us?"

She sighed, knowing there was no way to win this conversation without spilling all of her secrets. "Please, Ivar."

"Fine." He grumbled, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand.

Eventually, he started caressing her skin with feather-light kisses as if worshipping her. His lips started on her neck, an occasional nip only to be soothed by his tongue after. Torturously slow, those kisses reached her ear to continue their journey along her jawline. Once he found her chin, his hand left hers to tug on her chin, tilting her face downward to meet his. His mouth hovered overs hers for an agonizing moment before sealing a gentle, sensual kiss to her lips. Their lips moved as if time itself stopped for this moment. No rush, just a silent conveying of emotions that could never fully translate to words. Her mouth and tongue danced a waltz with his, a willing partner even if she knew it was better to leave the dance floor. It called to her, summoned her, and like a spell cast over her, she allowed him to lead.

When he finally released her, lips swollen deliciously, he leaned up slightly to gaze down at her with something akin to devotion. The look made her squirm self-consciously because she wondered if her face mirrored his.

"We probably….um, not…." She stuttered out, dropping her gaze to his chest. Her thoughts swarmed about like a beehive kicked over.

"No." He chuckled in a low and husky tone. "I'm kissing you and touching you. Fucking try and stop me now."

"But…."

His mouth descended on hers in a harsh kiss this time, swallowing her feeble protests.

"Ivar, you can't…." She tried to reason, only to be silenced once again by his possessive mouth, claiming hers.

She yanked her mouth away. "Stop."

This time he nibbled down her neck while his hand squeezed her thigh, rising higher and higher towards her sex. Although she tried to wiggle away, it was impossible. She was no match for his physical strength, nor was her willpower resolute enough to keep her from thoroughly enjoying his seductive touch.

"Stop, stop. Fine. A quota." She gasped out, her body beginning to burn under his assault.

"What?"

"You can…. this is so weird...a kiss quota."

He lifted up to stare at her like she was insane. "You're serious?"

She nodded.

"Twenty kisses per day and they roll over if unused."

She laughed. "No way."

"Too low?" An arrogant smirk played across his mouth. "I know you love these lips. Thirty kisses."

"No! I was thinking like three."

"Three? Fuck that."

"Four."

"Fifteen."

"Ivar, that's too many. We might as well be in a relationship." She giggled. Never before would she ever have guessed she would be arguing over a daily kiss quota, but here she was.

"I don't see a problem with that."

"But we're not."

"Fuck." He nuzzled her temple, letting out a long sigh. "We're just Ivar and Kari remember? Who gives a fuck what others think."

"Five." She amended her number.

"Twelve."

"Six."

"Ten."

"Seven."

"Nine."

"Eight."

He pressed a greedy kiss to her lips as if sealing their agreement. "Eight."

"No roll over."

"Argh!" He finally rolled off of her and laid on his back beside her. "Today's kisses start now."

"What?"

"Yes."

They rested next to one another, staring up at the ceiling. Kari had a stupid smile on her face and wondered if Ivar did too.

"How are you feeling?" She quietly asked.

"Fine." He huffed but after a second, entwined their fingers and brought it up to his lips. "Today was more fun than going to work, right?"

"Well…."

He growled.

"Yes, it was. I never just lay around in bed, but this has been…. nice."

"Nice?"

"Perfect."

"Mmmm. Better."

She giggled at the pure smugness in his voice. "Should we keep watching our show?"

"Unless there is something else…."

"No."

After an apparently necessary kiss from their quota, they started the show back up on her laptop. Her head was on his shoulder and their fingers still entangled. For a second, she wondered if she should be concerned with how completely normal this felt. There was no denying this connection they seemed to have. Cuddled up to him, she relished in the sensation, for who knew how long it would last.

Ivar squeezed her hand. "Did I mention your ass and legs look fucking amazing in this shorts yet?"

"Shut up." He buried her face against his shoulder, flushed with embarrassment.

"You don't believe me?" He snickered, fingers skimming her bare skin tantalizingly. "I can't keep my hands off them, fucking amazing."

"Gods, Ivar, stop!"

Thankfully, he did but only after receiving a kiss in recompense.

*****

A couple of episodes later, and four kisses from the quota, Kari was still cuddled up against Ivar, her head on his chest this time. They had taken a break to make popcorn after they restarted the last episode. Yet, like their bodies were magnetized to the other, they subconsciously drifted back to cuddling once the popcorn was gone. With his hand rubbing up and down her back and his rhythmic heartbeat beneath her ear, sleep waited just on the outskirts of her mind to pull her under. Because of this, she barely registered a knock on her door until it suddenly opened.

"Hey, Kari, I think this Friday we…." Alana's blue eyes widened like saucers when she fully registered the scene before her. She blinked owlishly for a long second before clearing her throat. "Hi, um, Kari, can we talk privately please?"

"Sure." Kari pulled away from Ivar with dread filling her. She had not realized what time it was and now that Alana had seen Ivar…. her mind fumbled to come up with a decent excuse, even though she knew it was fruitless. Each step feeling like she was walking to the gallows, she followed her roommate down the stairs and to the small living room.

"Alana, it's not…." She started, hoping to start the conversation off but was cut off.

"What the hell is going on?" Alana rounded on her, lips pursed and hands on her hips. "I come home and Ivar Lothbrok is lying in your bed, under your covers, shirtless and you're clinging to him like a koala. Tell me it's not what I think it is."

"We're just friends…"

The blonde interrupted again. "Bullshit. Are you two fucking? Tell me right now!"

"No, we aren't. I swear."

"We told you to stay away from him. What's going on?"

"It's...it's a long story."

"I don't want him here."

"Why not? You bring guys here?" Kari asked defensively. Never before had she had a guy over, the whole year and a half they were roommates.

"Because he's a Lothbrok!" Alana sighed, after a quick glance up the stairs to confirm they were still alone, she continued. "You don't…. I don't want you caught up in that world. You deserve someone sweet, and kind…. and who treats you like a princess."

"Weren't you telling me the other day to get out there? Go on a date with Erik?"

"Because Erik is a gentleman. He'd treat you well. He'd probably propose after a month of dating you. He's been smitten with you since last year."

The brunette rolled her eyes but smiled at the sentiment. She may disagree with Alana's viewpoint of Erik's level of attraction to her, but she knew her roommate meant well. The blonde had been pressing her lately to ask him out herself.

Before Alana could say something else, they both heard footsteps coming down the stairs. After a moment, Ivar appeared with his t-shirt on over his sweatpants, shoes on, cane in hand and hair pulled back in a man bun.

"You leaving?" Kari questioned, desperate to hide the disappointment in her voice.

"Yeah, there's something for work I need to do before going into the office tomorrow."

She moved to stand before him, gaze sweeping over his body as if she could read his pain level with just a look. Meeting his eyes, she quietly asked. "You'll be alright?"

He snorted, rolling the cane in his hand. "You sound like my family now."

"Probably because they care about you."

He hummed, ignoring her comment. "You should be getting a box in the mail tomorrow."

"Why?"

"I ordered you some clothes."

"Ivar…."

"My priestess needs to wear more than just yoga clothes." He leaned forward to whisper in her ear. "Though, I do love how tight they are on your ass."

She laughed, pressing a hand to his, unfortunately, covered chest and carefully pushing him back. "Unbelievable."

Instead of shifting away from her, he used her hand on his chest to pull her against him. His lips crashed against hers like he needed her to breathe. She clung to his t-shirt as her legs trembled under the reckless abandon of his mouth. Only when she felt boneless did he finally allow her to pull away, desperate for air. With short pants, she gazed up at him wondering where that came from.

"I'll text you tomorrow."

"Oh ok." Was all she could say, her brain still fogged up by the insatiable kiss.

He cupped her cheek, looking at her with something like adoration if seen in anyone else, before glancing over her shoulder at Alana. "Nice seeing you again." Without waiting for a response, he walked to the front door and out of it.

The sound of the door closing seemed to lift the haze over her mind. She turned around to see her roommate glaring at her with arms crossed over her chest.

"Just friends, huh?" She scoffed with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "I don't know what game you're playing with him but I don't want anything to do with it. Apparently, you're not quite the woman I thought you were."

"Alana…."

"Save it." She stormed past Kari and up the stairs to her bedroom.

With a sigh, Kari trudged over and locked the front door. She wondered how true Alana's words were. After everything that happened today with Ivar, was she even the woman she thought she was? Or was he changing her? And was it for better or worse?

She honestly was not sure….and it scared her a little.

#To Call Forth Love #vikings #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #modern ivar #ivar x ofc #ivars heathen army #ivar romance #ivar the boneless #modern!ivar #modern!ivar x oc #modern vikings #mzwrites

108 notes · View notes

writingwithacupoftea · 5 years ago

Text

The Unexpected Visitor in Small Heath

Summary: Y/N Shelby was a nurse during the war. What happens when a ghost from that past comes looking for her? A ghost with definite intentions...

Word Count: 3683

Trigger Warnings: a slightly handsy dude

A/N: *peeks out from my hiding place* hi guys, I’m back!! Hope you’re all good - to me it feels so amazing to be posting some writing again! As you can probably tell by the word count, I got a bit carried away with this one and so it’s basically unedited, so apologies for any mistakes 😂 Hope you enjoy it! 😘

"About fucking time, Y/N, I've been waiting here for almost a quarter of an hour."

"You've knocked on my door five minutes ago, Tommy, stop being such a dramatic shit!"

To any passers-by outside of Y/N Shelby's house, for a moment it would have looked like the two siblings were about to get into another argument. But any anxieties about that were washed away when they observed the teasing glint in the younger girl's eye and the playful shove given by the man, as they made their way down the cobbled streets of Birmingham.

Tommy and Y/N Shelby were as thick as thieves, there was no doubt about that. The brother and sister loved each other fiercely, and where one of them was found, it was almost certain that the other wouldn't be too far behind. But when they rowed, oh boy, did they row.

It was only a few days ago that the occupants of the Garrison were subjected to their shouting, after Tommy had scared off yet another one of Y/N's dates. As usual, however, the argument had soon blown over.

***

Y/N loved living in Small Heath. It was a shithole, but it was her shithole, so she didn't mind it as much.

To Tommy's surprise, she had turned down the offer of either living with him in Warwickshire or buying her a place of her own in the country. Instead, she had asked her brother if she could move into his old house on Watery Lane, to which he had agreed.

His swaying factor had been that someone would always be close-by if anything happened at the office, and the rest of the family had a place to crash if they needed to.

Y/N, on the other hand, had more emotional reasons for wanting to stay where she grew up. Since training as a nurse for the war, the Shelby girl had got to know the children of Small Heath very well: she had somehow become the go-to person whenever one of them got into a scuffle or had an accident, and always fixed them up with a smile on her face as she listened to their innocent voices babble away. Y/N wanted to see them grow up, and didn't want to abandon them. She also didn't want to leave behind some of the poorer families in Small Heath, who she paid a visit to once a week to check that everyone was as well as could be.

Tommy had had one condition for Y/N's staying in Small Heath by herself – that he walked her to and from work or the Garrison (wherever they were the latest) every day, and the days that he couldn't make it that she would let him get one of the blinders to do the job instead. The Shelby name and his sister's capabilities alone were not enough to settle his worries about her wellbeing.

And this job was what had brought Tommy to Y/N’s house that morning. It had come to Y/N’s attention that her brother seemed to be at his happiest during these walks - and when she said ‘happiest’ she meant that there was often just a slight glimmer of a smile on his face and his eyes looked a touch softer. Sometimes the indicators were bigger, but more often than not this was where the happiness would stop. It was in these moments that Tommy seemed to be at his most human, and they were the favourite part of Y/N’s day.

Apart from today.

The pair navigated the streets with ease, speaking quietly to each other, just as on every other day of the year. Suddenly, however, Y/N stopped still, lips parted slightly in shock. Tommy examined her expression carefully, and after realising (with a sigh of relief) that his sister wasn't scared shitless, followed her line of sight. It landed on a man. A rather scruffy man, who appeared to have done an awful job at trying to make himself look respectable, Tommy thought. The Shelby man knew that this was a stranger to Small Heath, not only by the fact that he had never seen such a distinct person before, but also by the way that he looked at the buildings and the people in the street. Yes, Tommy concluded, that was definitely a look with purpose.

Breaking Tommy away from his thoughts was the delicate hand that grabbed his wrist tightly, causing him to look down at his sister. "Tommy, how do you fancy taking the scenic route to the office today, hmm?" Whilst her voice was light, as if she were simply commenting on the day's weather, the forced smile that was plastered on her face was the one that she used at parties when she wanted to get away from someone (usually when she was being annoyed or bored to death).

Amused by Y/N's desperate desire to get away, he resisted her impatient pull on his arm towards a side street. "What's wrong with this way, Y/N/N? This is the route we take every day, I'm not going about changing it now." Tommy's voice was teasing as he casually lit a cigarette.

"Yes, yes, Tom, I know you're a stickler for routine – but for once in your fucking life can you do as I say?"

"Ah, well I was considering it, but since you've been so rude to me..."

The man was getting closer.

"Please, Tommy, I'll do anything." Y/N hated that she was having to practically beg her brother, but the situation was one that she definitely wanted to avoid. She even slipped her hand down to grasp his tightly for emotional effect, something that she hadn't done for years (but, oh, how she relished that warm and safe feeling that it brought with it).

Surprised at his sister's actions and looking into her wide eyes, he was about to relent and let her drag him down the side streets to the office. But it was too late.

"NURSE SHELBY!" The man's deep voice bellowed down the street, causing a few people to look towards them.

"Fucking hell," Y/N mumbled under her breath, giving Tommy's hand a tight squeeze and then letting go, before addressing the man. "Henry. What a surprise! What brings you to Birmingham?"

"Well, you, of course!"

Y/N cringed internally as she saw Tommy's eyebrows shoot up at this statement. Tommy cleared his throat. "Aren't you going to introduce us, Y/N?"

Sending a quick death glare up to her brother out of the corner of her eye, the woman replied with strained politeness: "My apologies. Henry, this is my brother, Thomas Shelby. Tommy, this is Henry Mathers, one of my former patients."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir." Henry shook Tommy's hand, the latter trying his hardest not to grimace at the thick layer of sweat coating the other man's palm.

"Likewise, Mr Mathers. You met my sister in France, then?"

"Yes, sir. We said that if we both made it out of there alive, we'd go for a drink. Ever since I got back I've been searching for her and here I am! And, oh, it was worth the wait to see that face again."

Tommy could no longer suppress the smirk threatening to escape as he looked between Henry's longing gaze and Y/N's very clearly faked happiness crossed with panic.

"Well, my sister is a woman of her word, Mr Mathers, and I'm sure she'd be delighted to be able to catch up with you after all these years." Tommy decided to pause for dramatic effect. "Perhaps you can go to the Garrison tonight, Y/N? We've had it done up recently, it's just around this corner here" Tommy added, pointing in the direction of the pub.

"Oh, that sounds perfect! I shall meet you there at eight o'clock, Miss Shelby." Before Y/N could get a word in edgeways, Henry was removing his bowler hat and bowing his balding head. "Good day to you, Miss Shelby, Mr Shelby." The man continued to walk down the street, a definite spring now in his step.

As soon as he was far enough away, Y/N sent a firm punch to her brother’s stomach. “What the actual fuck, Tommy?” She started to storm down the street quickly, leaving Tommy hurrying after her. “One minute you’re chasing men away from me, and next you’re setting me up on dates with people you don’t know the first thing about!”

“You’re the one who agreed to go for a drink with him in the first place, don’t go blaming me.”

“He had a lot of drugs in his system when he asked, I didn’t think he’d actually remember it.” Catching her brother’s amused smile at her excuse, she continued. “He was on the verge of death, I wasn’t exactly going to say no, was I?”

“Oh, so he fought to stay alive just for you then, eh? Sounds like a keeper to me, Y/N/N.”

“You’re an arse, Thomas Shelby. A complete and utter arse.”

***

Y/N remained in a foul mood with Tommy for the rest of the day, not that this surprised him.

When the hands of the clock hit ten to eight exactly, however, he still knocked on his sister's door to take her to the Garrison himself.

Tommy couldn't help the chuckle that fell from his lips at the sight of Y/N, clad in a beaded black dress, scowling as she stepped out of the house.

"You do know that you're not going to a funeral tonight?"

"Oh, it's my bloody funeral, alright. Might be his too, if he reverts back to his old ways." Y/N started playing with her hands as they made their way towards the pub, something that she'd done since she was little when she was nervous.

Tommy noticed it immediately, eyebrows furrowing slightly in concern as he recalled Y/N's desperation to avoid Henry. It hadn’t really hit him properly in the moment how desperate she had been. But before he could begin to question what the man's 'old ways' were, his sister spoke again.

"But you were right about one thing earlier, Tommy. I did still agree to go out with Henry, no matter what state he was in when he asked. It would be rude of me not to go through with it and at least act like I'm having a nice time, seeing as he's come all this way for it. So," her voice became sterner, "I'm going to smile my way through the evening, and you'd better not start any fights - do you understand me?"

The older of the two Shelbys sighed, a feeling of dread beginning to build up inside of him. "I can get you out of this if you -"

"No, Tommy." An angry fire was dancing in the young woman's eyes. "You don't get to land me in this situation and then try to snap your fingers and revert it. That's not how this works. This is happening, no thanks to you..." The last part was mumbled under her breath as she pushed the heavy pub doors open.

Tommy hadn't wanted to lose his sister in the same way that he had lost Ada at the beginning – not giving her enough freedom, especially given their argument the other day. So, when a man came along who she had agreed to go for a drink with previously, he had decided (for once) to take the light-hearted and supportive approach, a far cry from the overprotective older brother that he had been since the moment that Y/N had been born.

He was starting to regret even considering changing his ways, and the night had barely begun...

***

From his seat at an ordinary table at the Garrison, Tommy looked at the occupants at the bar once again, probably for about the fifth time in the past two minutes. He had decided not to retreat into the snug, as he usually did, wanting to keep a close eye on Y/N and Henry.

So far, the evening had gone surprisingly well - it was far better than any of Tommy’s imaginings after his discussion with his sister previously. He had heard his sister’s gentle laugh ringing across the room on multiple occasions (and he could tell that it was genuine), and the pair had barely stopped talking.

Maybe this would prove to be a success, Tommy had mused.

One thing that the man’s careful eye had picked up on, however, was how many whiskeys Henry had thrown back. Tommy had concluded that no matter how well things appeared to be going now, he wasn't leaving just yet.

And he was glad he didn't – for just 15 minutes later, as the alcohol began to kick in to Henry's system, things began to go downhill.

It started with the occasional nervous laugh, or a smile that didn’t quite reach his sister's eyes as she avoided Henry's intense gaze. This grew more frequent as Henry continued to drink, and Y/N began playing with her hands once again as well.

The head of the Shelby family was an inch away from leaping out of his seat when he saw Henry leaning over to whisper in Y/N's ear, and her nose crinkled in disgust at the stench of alcohol on his breath. After a few subtle attempts, she finally managed to push him away from her, and Tommy relaxed slightly as he heard her state a firm "No." His sister was always a lot tougher than he thought.

But her efforts were undermined as Henry grabbed her left hand, holding it as if he were about to kiss her knuckles. However his grip was far too firm for that. Ripping her hand out of his, Y/N grabbed her bag hurriedly and started to get off her seat, and Tommy stood up himself.

The final straw for the protective brother was when he witnessed Y/N freeze completely as Henry rested a hand on her knee to stop her from leaving. Fists clenched as he tried to contain his anger, remembering his sister's warning about not starting any fights, Tommy marched over to the bar, his lie for getting her out of there already prepared.

"Y/N, something urgent has come up, we need to call a family meeting – now." Tommy extended a hand to his sister, which she gratefully took as he helped her get down off the barstool and pulled her safely to his side. "Would you get my things from the back room, I've just got something to sort out quickly before we go. I'll see you outside."

Y/N nodded, knowing exactly what Tommy was doing. Shooting her brother a grateful glance, Y/N mumbled a quick "Goodbye" to Henry, and walked off quickly, not wanting to be in the man's company for any longer than necessary.

***

She slipped out of the back door and into the cold night air, relief washing over her. Lighting a cigarette, Y/N waited for her brother, wondering how he had got to her so quickly – she hadn't seen him once after meeting up with Henry.

A few minutes later, Tommy emerged and went straight to Y/N. "You alright?" His thick Brummie accent comforting her as he, too, lit a cigarette.

Y/N sent him a soft smile as she replied, "I'm fine, Tom. I'm assuming there isn't actually an emergency?" Her voice was laced with amusement.

"Nope."

The siblings stayed there for a while, smoking and listening to the sounds of the pub behind them. Y/N vaguely wondered whether Henry would find them, but looking up at her brother's solid presence beside her, she felt any worries lift off her shoulders.

Out of the blue, Tommy threw his cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out, turning to Y/N. "Come on. Do you fancy going for a walk?"

"Yeah, I need to clear my head." Tommy started to move towards the street. "Oi! I'm finishing this first, you know I hate smoking and walking at the same time!"

***

"You gonna tell me what happened tonight then, eh?"

The pair didn't know how long they had been wandering the streets of Small Heath for, but Tommy's curiosity had finally gotten the better of him.

Y/N sighed, her eyes focused on the cobblestones beneath her. "When Henry first came to us, back in France, he'd been caught up in an explosion. After the doctors had seen him, he was still very drugged up and the chances of him surviving were about fifty-fifty. We had to keep administering him the drugs for a few days, because he was in so much pain. He kept calling me over, wanting to talk to me no matter how busy I was – said that he needed a 'pretty girl' like me to keep him company. I humoured him. But then he started saying things like we were 'meant to be together', 'soulmates' even."

Y/N paused, thinking hard. "He lied when he showed up today: he said that he asked me out for a drink, but he didn't. What Henry actually said was, and I quote, 'If we both survive this fucking war, I'm going to find you and marry you.' I had no clue what to say. His chances of making it out of the hospital alive, never mind the war, weren't improving. So I said something like 'Well, I hope you buy me a drink first.' I ran off after that, and another one of the nurses took over his care. I had no clue that he was still alive until today.

"At the pub tonight, I will admit that I did enjoy catching up with him. For someone who I believed to be a lost cause all those years ago, it was nice to hear that he'd actually done something with his life. But then he brought up getting married again, insisting that I was still 'the one' for him and that it was the thought of me that kept him going until the end of the war. He just kept repeating over and over again that he was going to marry me and that we'd be so happy together.

"But just before you came over, he was getting rather forceful about it. I don't think I've ever been so happy to see your stupid face." She laughed a little, noticing her brother's annoyed (yet secretly amused) glare as they sat down next to the Cut.

"It wasn't him that freaked me out, necessarily - it was the thought of marriage. I'm not ready yet, Tom, and to be honest I don't know if I ever will be, no matter how many boys I try and date. I'm terrified of being tied down to someone and losing my independence. I enjoy being by myself too much – and with you lot, I suppose." Y/N nudged her brother's arm.

A comfortable silence settled between the siblings, and Y/N let it sit there, wanting to give Tommy the time to process everything that she had said in her little monologue.

Happiness was one emotion that the elder Shelby didn't expect to feel after hearing his sister's answer to his question. And yet it coursed through his every vein, accompanied by a sort of relief. Tommy wanted his sister to find contentment and peace more than anything; even though he hated the thought of her marrying, of her having someone else to turn to that wasn't him, a few years ago Tommy had come to accept that one day Y/N would want to move on from him and the family. Maybe even start her own family. This acceptance, however, hadn't been able to stop him from deterring nearly any man who came her way. In his mind, anyone that couldn't stand up to Tommy definitely wouldn't be able to deal with his youngest sister, and that they simply weren't good enough for her.

To hear, though, that Y/N had no intention of leaving him yet, was music to his ears. It was also a comfort to know that she was waiting for the right person to get serious with – Tommy felt as though he wouldn't have to spend as much time hunting down every single potential suitor. Instead, he could spend the time with his beloved, if annoying, little sister.

But this was Tommy Shelby, and he would never communicate such vast amounts of emotion verbally. "So I'm stuck with you for a bit longer then?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Y/N couldn't help the grin that spread across her face, understanding the exact meaning behind her brother's words. It widened as she heard Tommy chuckling slightly in response, a sound that she had nearly forgotten. "What did you do with Henry? After I left the pub?"

Tommy cleared his throat, uncomfortably. "He won't be proposing to you again any time soon, don't you worry, sweetheart."

"Tommy, I thought I said - "

"No fighting, I know. And I did as you said, I didn't start any tonight." He looked, almost sheepishly, over at Y/N, who had adopted Polly's stern expression. "I told him that if I saw him again in our city, I'd cut him myself, and the same applies for if he tries to contact you again."

The younger Shelby sighed and rolled her eyes, fondly. "Well, I can't complain about that, can I?" Y/N heard the bells of the church chime, telling her that it was midnight. She turned to Tommy. "Home?"

He nodded. "Home," and he knew exactly where that was tonight. Tommy stood up and brushed the dirt off of his trousers, whilst Y/N got up too. They were about to set off when Tommy held his hand out to his sister, just like he used to when they were younger. Y/N instinctively took it, a feeling of warmth spreading throughout her body. She felt loved, and knew for certain that this love was the only one that she needed at the moment.

Tommy didn't let go until they reached the front door, comforted in the knowledge that Y/N was going to remain his little girl for a while longer yet.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x sister reader #shelby sister #shelby sis #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders sister #peaky blinders x sister!reader #tommy shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fanfic #shelby!reader #shelby!sister

534 notes · View notes

or0ch1maru · 3 years ago

Text

Part Five: The First Day

***

I sit alone in the classroom at the teachers desk. My desk. Waiting for the last 15 minutes to pass until the kids start to arrive. I look over the list of names again. Twelve in total. Not bad, at least they can be divided evenly when we have group training.

The door slides open. I pay it no mind as I scan over our planner.

“Good morning.”

Speaks Orochimaru.

I look up, his mellow tone catching me off guard. He stares at me with a look of confusion.

“What?”

I ask, thinking there’s something in my hair or on my shirt.

“Your eye. You have it covered?”

He comments.

Just like Kakashi, my Sharingan is visible at all times. It’s just that he keeps his covered 24/7, as I do not. They thought I should cover it when around the students, not to scare them. Or have the rare few to challenge me, wanting to see the power first hand.

“Oh, right.”

I comment back, almost forgetting I had a patch on under my headband.

“Well, I’m going to allow you to sit here, since you are doing most of the talking.”

I say as I push myself up from the chair I was occupying. He walks over and sits without another word. I stand behind him but off to the right, about a foot away. There’s no need to be hovering over him. The door slides open again, this time the twelve children pile inside. All rushing to a table. Some making sure their friends sit right beside them, if not, at least near them.

“We don’t have assigned seating so feel free to change up on different days.”

Begins Orochimaru.

“My name is Orochimaru. You may call me Sensei Orochimaru or just Sensei. This, is Y/n. Same thing goes for her, it’s up to you on which you want to use.”

He says, pointing his hand to my location. The twelve pairs of eyes move from him to me.

“We are going to do quick introductions before answering any of your questions.”

He says.

After five minutes of hearing names left and right, the kids have finally started asking questions. So far, all of them directed at my partner.

“Yes?”

Says Orochimaru, pointing to a student who’s hand went up. The student stands up and begins.

“I hope this isn’t too personal but this question is for you Sensei Y/n.”

My attention shifts over to the standing student. I nod my head to let them know to proceed.

“You do not have to answer this if you wish not too but can you not speak?”

The child asks. I blow it off, nothing harmful in this.

“Y/n isn’t much of a conversationalist. She will speak once she warms up to her new occupation. Do not take this personally.”

Orochimaru answers for me. The child bows and sits back down. Another arm going up in the process.

“Go ahead.”

Says Orochimaru.

“This is also for Sensei Y/n.”

Begins the child.

“There’s a Sharingan under that mask, isn’t there?”

The young boy asks.

Instead of replying, I lean over to my partner, spotting the list of names.

“I heard you got it during the war, after defeating Madara. You took it from him.”

The child continues as I read down the list, finding his name.

“Ah h/n.”

I say.

“I served with your brother.”

I continue, now looking up at the boy. I can feel Orochimaru’s gaze penetrating my side as I straighten myself up beside him.

“He’s alive because of you Sensei. He talks about you often. Mostly about how amazed he was that you defeated Madara.”

I smile ever so slightly. H/n’s brother was and still is one of the purest souls I’ve met. I was scared I was going to lose him, along with many others, but I didn’t.

“That’s enough questions for the time being. We are moving this class outside for the physical aspect.”

Orochimaru says quickly.

“Form a line along the wall outside, we’ll follow behind you.”

He says.

The kids file out and the door closes behind them.

“You alright?”

I jump at the sudden closeness of Orochimaru and myself. He’s now standing next to me.

“I saw you fiddling with your hands behind your back. You seemed to be uncomfortable.”

He whispers.

“I’m fine.”

I tell him.

“You don’t need to lie to me. We’re partners.”

He whispered into my ear, sending goosebumps up my back.

“I’ll give you a moment alone. Just meet us in the courtyard.”

He says, disappearing from my side, now in the hall with the kids.

***

“Where is Sensei y/n?”

A child asks as I lead them to the yard.

“She’s just finishing up something back in the classroom. She’ll join us momentarily.”

I answer the curious child.

Deep down I know she still suffers from memories of the war. We lost many. Many of us, including y/n were kidnapped and tortured. I’d be shocked if she was back to normal, what she was like before the war. I saw her briefly as she ended the atrocious killer. She looked very different to what I see now. But yet again, she had endured weeks of pain before ending it all.

I have the children form a half circle around me, about to explain what todays little challenge will consist of. This is something I did when I was their age, and at their high advancement level.

“Where is Ms. y/n?”

I’m asked right as I begin to explain. I turn to my right and see Kakashi. I step aside, giving a bigger distance so the children will not hear.

“Mentions of the war were brought up. I’m giving her a moment to breathe before joining.”

I whisper to Kakashi. He looks at me with sympathetic eyes.

“Hello children. I am Sensei Kakashi. I’m friends of your teachers. I will be watching from the side, pay no mind to me.”

He says as he cocks his head to the side. This is his signature move when he smiles. Unlike y/n, he wears his mask at all times, covering most of his face and his Sharingan.

I continue the briefing of the lesson to the kids as I watch Y/n walk from the building. Finally joining me by my side. My shoulders relax, not realizing I had them so tended in the lack of her presence.

“Since you all are our advanced placements, your work will be a tad more challenging compared to the rest of the students here. As you all remember, you had the bell challenge when you first began attending here.”

I begin to explain.

“Today you will be doing it again, but instead of three against one. It’ll be one-on-one. I will call one of you up at a time. You’ll be going up against Sensei y/n as I watch from the sidelines. If we have enough time before the end of the day, you will go up against me as well. Please don’t feel discouraged if you don’t get it right away.”

I end my speech with. Out of the corner of my eye I watch as y/n steps away, into the clearing of the field.

“Mr. H/l/n.”

I call out. The young boy follows into the now dirt patch where grass used to grow. Remaining dead and gone after the years and years of training in this same spot.

I lean on the tree, next to Kakashi as we watch. Y/n starts off easy, avoiding close contact by jumping off to the side. Despite dodging many of his moves, the boy remains calm. No sort of frustration showing.

My eyebrows raise as the boy is using what used to be a forbidden jutsu.

The Shadow Clone Jutsu.

Three versions of himself are standing around y/n, creating more of an oval border around her. The fourth one lands on her back, creating a piggy back look. One of his other clones runs towards her, wanting to restrain her from the front. The other two charge at her from the sides, an all around attack. Could be inescapable if trained well enough.

A puff of white smoke is all we see as well as groans and thuds. H/l/n colliding into the rest of his clones. All equally confused and bewildered. Y/n now stands fifteen feet away, holding the bell out in front of her.

“Looking for something.”

She says teasingly. All heads turn in her direction.

“Replacement technique. I remember learning this with her.”

Whispers Kakashi from my side.

I’m amazed at her techniques, her moves, everything. Even though I’ve seen all of this multiple times before. Something about her truly intrigues me.

Student after student, attempt after attempt, and so far only one out of the twelve succeeded. A young girl who reminds me of someone I trained with.

“Sensei Orochimaru.”

A child says.

“Yes.”

I say, wanting him to continue.

“Can we see you and Sensei y/n go up against each other? I want to see who would get the bell between you two.”

He asks curiously.

“Not today my dear child. It’s the end of the day. We will be doing this all week. You’ll witness it by Friday.”

Answers Kakashi. I was hoping for today but by Friday is more than enough for me. Y/n stands at the other end of the group, while Kakashi and I are on the other. I can’t help but allow my eyes to fall on the beautiful creature. Watching her talk with the young girl. Y/n allowed the students to run ahead, getting their things to go home, excited to come back tomorrow. One young boy lingers behind, right next to me.

Y/n’s hair is flowing behind her as she walks into the wind, towards the building. The olive green Flak jacket compliments her skin, as well as the all black clothing underneath. The silver of her headbands glistens in the sunlight.

“I know your secret Sensei Orochimaru.”

Says the boy, snapping my head away from y/n.

“Excuse me?”

I say, raising an eyebrow.

He turns to look over at y/n, who’s still keeping pace with us, at the same fifteen feet away.

“And what secret May that be?”

I tease.

“You like Sensei y/n. It’s so obvious.”

The child says, smiling a toothy grin.

“You are wrong. She’s my partner. I look to her in times of need.”

I say, trying to divert attention away from the true statement this child has voiced out loud.

“You look at her the way my father looks at my mother. The in love look.”

The child continues, wanting to push the subject.

“You say a thing, I’ll fail you. Do you understand me.”

I say, menacingly.

The child laughs before running inside, catching up with his friends. He saw through my attempt to be serious and intimidating. My voice caught in my threat. I look over to y/n again, this time already inside, Kakashi and I following behind her.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Speaks the silver haired Sensei.

“See you.”

Says y/n as she turns the corner, proceeding back to our classroom.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Kakashi.”

I say, lifting my hand to give a short wave before he turns on his feet and leaving through the front door again.

Back inside the room, I stand in the entry way as I watch y/n gathers her papers, fixing them before putting them away in the drawers. She straightens herself, pulling away the eye mask from her face. That must feel so relieving after a long day, not being used to keeping it covered. She ticks the fabric mask into a zipper pocket on her jacket. I look away, pretending to examine the art on the walls as she approaches me.

We walk in silence to the front door.

“Are you not leaving?”

She asks, looking up at me when she realized I didn’t follow her outside.

“No. I have to meet with the Hokage.”

I answer her honestly.

Before meeting y/n I used to be so mischievous, and could lie easily and nobody would doubt me. Something about her makes me spill the truth before having a chance to think about it.

“Oh okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She says, giving me a wave. I watch as she walks away, back towards the town, back towards her home, wishing so much that I could be beside her, walking her to her home like I did the night before…

4 notes · View notes

firstdegreefangirl · 4 years ago

Note

If you are open to Ted Lasso requests, then Roy Kent/Keeley Jones + sickfic and snuggles?

Oh, nonnie, this got WAY out of hand. But I had SO MUCH FUN writing it, so thank you! There's a lot going on at the beginning here, but I swear there are sickfic and snuggles under the break. I hope you like it!

Read the whole thing in one click HERE on ao3!

The morning gets off to a late start, right out of the gate. The team bus leaves late when they lose Nate again (this year they knew to check the luggage hold, but no one thought to look in the upstairs bathroom, where he was “looking for a little extra privacy, sorry”) and there’s more traffic than anyone could have predicted.

Altogether, it means that the team hardly makes it to Sheffield with time to drop their bags at the hotel before they’re due at the stadium for the game.

Roy tosses a duffel bag onto one of the double beds in the room he’s sharing with Ted tonight (not by choice; it turns out relegation means there’s not enough money in the team budget for all four coaches to have separate suites. Last away game, he and Nate had been roommates, but Ted has some big idea about everyone spending equal amounts of time together in the name of ‘equitable morale,’ and apparently coaching staff isn’t exempt.)

Really, he should have taken the job with SkySports.

At least then, he wouldn’t be pulling a furry green unicorn out of his bag and sitting it carefully by the pillows.

“Security object, Roy?” Ted points from across the room as Roy reaches for his phone. “Respect. No shame in a man seeking a little comfort from-”

“Fuck off,” he snaps, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Phoebe’s mad her mum wouldn’t let her come on a sleepover with the team this weekend. Asked me to bring Captain McKibbin along instead, the little idiot. I … promised to send pictures. As proof.”

“Hey, I get it. My boy’s done many a Flat Stanley in his day.” Clearly, Ted expects him to know what this means, so Roy nods if only to save himself the explanation. “Anyway, we’ve got to meet the fellas in the lobby, head over to the field – pitch.” A full year in, and Ted still struggles with the vernacular sometimes. It’d drive Roy nuts, if the guy hadn’t done so much to help him and his career. “Is, ah, will Captain McCarlson be joining us for the-”

“McKibbin. Captain McKibbin, and he will not. Phoebe says he can stay here, to ward off any bad dream monsters.”

“Well you be sure to let her know that I intend to sleep snug as a bug in a rug tonight. No, two rugs!” Tim points at Roy with both hands, then spins around and opens the door to the hallway.

He still hasn’t gotten a chance to catch up with Keeley before the match starts. She and Rebecca had driven out separately – something about girl talk and lattes – but he knows she’s around somewhere. The owner’s box is a little different everywhere they go, but never too terribly hard to find, and he catches a glimpse of her bright pink peacoat when he looks around during the opening lineup. She's sitting between Rebecca and Higgins, and as soon as she notices him watching, she waves happily. He lifts a hand in response, then tucks it back against his chest, turning back to the pitch and squaring his shoulders as the first half begins.

Richmond is playing well; Isaac has stepped up and really filled Roy’s shoes as captain, and all the lads are on the same wavelength, without having to say much of anything to one another. He hates to admit it, but Roy wonders if the seamless communication doesn’t have something to do with the scavenger hunt they’d hosted in the locker room last night. Ted had blindfolded half of the players, and made the other half sit on the bench and shout directions. The whole thing had been a mess, but then they’d passed around the bottle of vodka he’d stashed behind the clean boots as a prize, and everyone had left smiling. If that’s it, Roy can’t deny the results, but he’ll damn sure try.

That’s what he’s thinking about a few minutes later when he turns around again, looking for Keeley in the stands. He’s always looking for her, when he doesn’t have to be watching every second of the match. She’s almost always watching him right back, before he’s even looking at her. And half the time, he’ll feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. Even if he can’t check it until halftime, he knows it’s a comment on the quality of the plays, or the other team’s kits, or how much she likes the view of his ass from the box.

But now, when he looks, he can’t find her anywhere. He looks again, trying to pick her out in the sea of Richmond jerseys. Most of the faces are strangers, but he can distinguish between them. All the way at the top, where Keeley had been sitting before, it’s just Rebecca and Higgins now, an empty seat folded up between them.

Roy stares for a moment, waiting for her to reappear with a soft pretzel or something. But she doesn’t. Eventually, Rebecca catches his eyeline, and shakes her head. Her lips move, but there’s no way Roy can make out the words. All he knows is that Keeley has disappeared, and judging from Rebecca’s gesture, she’s been gone for more than a few minutes.

Something isn’t right; he can feel it in his stomach. And in his knee, but that’s more from the impending winter. The feeling about Keeley, that sits deep in his gut, twisting and knotting around his organs as he turns back to the pitch.

The lads are lining up the next play, but Ted, Nate and Beard are spread out along the sideline. Roy sidesteps around Beard, almost trips over Nate when he moves back just as Roy passes behind him, and finally comes to a stop next to Ted.

"Coach?”

“What’s up, Roy?” Ted doesn’t turn toward him, but he leans in Roy’s direction, and he knows he’s got the man’s full attention.

He hears the announcer take notice of his new position, the commentary echoing around them.

On Richmond’s side of the field, former team member turned coach Roy Kent is vying for the attention of head coach Ted Lasso. The players are lined up; what could he be saying?

But Roy doesn’t say anything. He just points, arms still folded across his chest, until Ted looks up to the stands behind them.

Both coaches now, looking up at the audience. Surely they’re not surprised at the show of support for the Richmond Greyhounds? They’ve sold out almost every game since their relegation …

The rest of the announcement fades to the background when understanding spreads across Ted’s face. Roy knows he’s seen the empty seat, knows he’ll understand the concern Roy can’t put into words. He raises an eyebrow when Tim looks back to his face, and the other coach nods.

“Just be in the locker room for halftime, yeah? The guys are countin’ on you for a speech to hype them up for the rest of the game.”

Roy jerks his chin up and down, then heads for the tunnel that’ll take him out of view of the crowds. The announcer’s voice comes behind him again.

Coach Kent, now heading off of the pitch. Makes you wonder what’s going on for the Greyhounds. Have they sent a coach away in the middle of a match, or did he ask to be excused? And why? But gameplay continues without him …

It’s only a few steps before he’s in the locker room, trying to shake off the memory of the last time he’d left the pitch before a match was up. It’s empty, no signs of another occupant, but the solitude gives him an opportunity to fish his phone out of his pocket.

No texts, no missed calls. Right away, he dials Keeley’s number.

If you’re looking for the PR Manager for the Richmond Greyhounds, leave a message for Keeley Jones after the beep. If you’re trying to reach your best friend Keeley for a round of drinks, hang up and text me. Oh, and Rebecca? If it’s too long to text, I’ll check my emails soon. Kisses!

“Oi, it’s me,” Roy all but grunts into the speaker when Keeley’s voicemail recording is done. “You’re not in your seat. Not that you have to be, but Rebecca hadn’t seen you, and I didn’t …” he trails off, suddenly afraid of sounding clingy and controlling. “Anyway, call me when you get this.”

He stares at his home screen after he hangs up, a selfie Keeley had nabbed his phone to take. He’s got an arm wrapped around her shoulders and his lips pressed against her temple, and her face is scrunched up in laughter. It’s ridiculous, the first time anyone but a blood relative has ever been his background, but he can’t help smiling at it, even as the worry knots itself tighter in his stomach.

When he can’t stand it any longer, he texts Rebecca.

You seen her?

Her reply is almost instant.

Not since she left. I have her coat, phone is in the pocket. Heard it ring.

Well, shit. She doesn’t have her phone, and as far as Roy knows, nobody has any idea where his girlfriend is.

But then there’s a sniffle from inside one of the toilet stalls. He’d know that sound anywhere; it’s the same noise Keeley makes every time they watch a Disney film together, right before he teases her for crying and she pokes fun right back at how he’s not.

He’d peered under the doors when he walked in, checking for feet, but he knocks on the stall anyway.

“Keeley?” He calls, pushing the door open slowly. Sure enough, she’s inside, sitting with her feet tucked up onto the seat, head wedged between her knees and hands clamped tightly around the back of her skull. “Babe, what’s going on?”

“It’s so … it’s so loud out there,” she whispers, but doesn’t look up. “All the yelling and shouting and cheering. It’s a good thing, I know, that the fans are engaged, but it was just pounding on my brain, making my eyes go all spotty. I tried to stick it out, Roy, really; I know how much these games mean to you, to the whole team. But then I felt like I was going to vomit and-” Keeley chokes on a sob. “I couldn’t find anywhere else quiet to go.”

“Right, well come on,” Roy reaches out slowly and squeezes one of her shoulders. “There’s got to be somewhere better to sit than a men’s toilet stall. You’ve met the lads, they’re disgusting.”

Keeley chuckles, thick and teary, but drops her knees and lets Roy pull her to her feet. As soon as she’s standing, she wraps her arms around his waist and buries her face in his chest. It can’t be too comfortable; he hasn’t taken off the Richmond windbreaker he wears for every game, but Keeley relaxes when Roy doesn’t push her away. Instead, he locks his arms around her shoulders and walks them both slowly back until he can drop onto one of the benches. Keeley stays leaned against him, but brings one hand up to cover her eyes where the harsh lighting seeps in.

“Alright, now, what is it?” Roy asks, when Keeley hasn’t said anything for a while. “You seemed alright when we left this morning.”

“I was. Or, I thought I was anyway. Just a little tired, maybe, but that was all. It was fine until the car ride, but then I got really queasy, and my head started throbbing.” Roy reaches up to scratch his fingers gently through her hair and she sighs. “It got a little better when we got out of the car, but then it was just so-”

“Loud, I know,” he finishes for her, then they both fall silent.

Exhaustion. Nausea. Headache. His sister had those symptoms once, just shy of eight years ago.

Shit.

“Keel. You don’t think you’re … You – we – couldn’t be … you aren’t …"

“What?”

“Um, pregnant? I know we’re careful, but …" Keeley cuts him off with a laugh that turns into a whimper, and he tightens his hold on her.

“No. Definitely not. Not this week, for sure. Just a migraine, I think. Used to get them sometimes, but it’s been a bit.”

“Good,” Roy sighs. “I mean, someday, maybe, but not …”

“Not yet,” Keeley agrees, and something goes warm in his chest, knowing that they’re on the same page. Right now, they don’t need to worry about anything except getting Keeley back in fighting shape.

“Have you taken anything?” She nods against his chest.

“This morning, um, in the car. It didn’t help much. Just need it dark. And quiet.”

“OK, that’s alright,” Roy whispers, dropping his voice even quieter. “It should be almost half, what say we find somewhere else for you to hole up before everyone comes barging in like heathens?”

He’s not sure exactly where they can go, but he knows he’s got to get Keeley out of the locker room before they clear the players off the pitch. She shrugs half-heartedly, and lets Roy pull her back to her feet. He doesn’t have a plan yet, but he starts walking them slowly toward the door as he looks around. There are no offices in here, no treatment rooms or storage closets.

He hasn’t checked the time since he found Keeley, but he’s played enough years of football that his body’s internal clock can feel the seconds ticking away. There’s maybe two or three minutes left, and Ted wants him to give the halftime pep talk. If he asked, if he explained everything, he could probably get out of it, maybe trade Beard for next week or something. Keeley needs him.

But the team needs him too.

All at once, it hits him.

Rebecca.

Rebecca doesn’t have a role in the halftime routine. There’s nothing happening on the field and she almost never comes to the locker room before the match ends. And she’s got a car here; that’s somewhere quiet Keeley can sit, at least until the second half gets underway.

He wiggles his phone out of his pocket again and reopens the text thread.

Found her in locker room. Migraine. Can you meet us and take her outside for halftime? Ted wants me to give speech.

Rebecca doesn’t reply, but a minute or so later, Roy hears the steady click-clack of her heels coming down the hall. Keeley whimpers, and he presses a kiss to her hair as the door swings open.

“Hey,” he says, shifting around to look at Rebecca.

“Hello,” she whispers back.

“Hey, Keeley, Rebecca’s here now,” Roy tips his face back down to whisper against the shell of her ear. “Think you can make it outside with her?”

“We can head back to the hotel, Keeley, if you think that’d help? It’s only a few minutes’ drive.”

“Yeah, ‘s quieter there,” she says, but doesn’t move.

“And I’ll meet you there just as soon as the match is done, hmm?” He runs his fingers up and down her arm, shifting away slightly. “Here, want to take my sunglasses, block out some of the light?”

At that, Keeley squeezes her eyes shut and turns her face up toward Roy. He chuckles and slides his glasses over her eyes, then brushes a kiss to the tip of her nose.

“Alright then, off you go,” He lets Rebecca take her by the arm and lead her back out of the locker room, trying to ignore the way his heart clenches at the sight of her trudging away, hunched over against her own discomfort.

He’ll be back with her soon enough. But the door has no more than swung shut behind them when it bounces open again. Jamie and Sam are leading the pack, the whole team piling in around him.

As usual, their energy is infectious, and Roy finds himself slapping hands and patting backs as he makes his way across the room to where Ted is bringing up the rear.

“Hey, Roy, you get everything all squared away?”

“For now. Rebecca’s taking Keeley back to the hotel; she’s not feeling well.” He should have known better than to hope that Ted Lasso would ever let anything drop with a simple explanation.

“Well that’d explain the text message I got from Boss Lady asking if she’d be alright rooming with me tonight.” Roy’s eyebrows go up at that. “And I’m guessin’ from the look on your face that she didn’t mention anything about that to you? Aw, geez, I hope I didn’t spoil a surprise or anything. But the cat’s out of the metaphorical bag now, isn’t it? So I might as well tell you that I told her that I was a-OK with switching up the room arrangements if that’s what’s best for everyone tonight. Thataways you can keep an eye on Keeley, and down the hall we can have Biscuits with the Boss: Evening Edition. How’s that sit with you?”

“Honestly, Ted, I have no opinion on what time of day you eat biscuits,” Roy sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But thanks. I think. For making sure I can be there for Keeley.”

“We’re all on the same team here, right? What’s good for the goose and all that, we’re at our best when everyone is at their own, individual best. Hey, speaking of, there are some guys in here, waiting for someone to put a little extra pep in their step for the back end of this game. If you’re not up for it, I can see what Coach Beard has up his sleeve, or-”

“No, it’s fine,” Roy cuts him off before the rambling can reach full speed again. “I’ve got this one.”

He turns back to the group, and yells for everyone to listen up. When he’s got their attention, he takes a deep breath.

“What you’re doing on the pitch today, it’s fucking amazing,” he starts. “Not the score, though that’s pretty alright too. But that doesn’t matter half as much as how you’re playing. Hell, you assholes keep communicating this well, you’re going to put us coaches out of a job. I know Ted’s all about the rhymes and anecdotes and shit, but that’s not … I’m not a walking greeting card store,” everyone chuckles, Ted included. “But get back out there, keep working together, and dammit, make the four of us redundant!”

There’s a round of half-sarcastic applause, then Ted steps forward.

“Alright, y’all heard the man. Don’t get tired, get us fire—well, actually, don’t get us fired. That’s not … take the sentiment of what Roy said, but do me a favor and don’t take him literally. I like working with y’all. Anyway, Coach Beard’s gonna take it from here, walk y’all through a couple plays for the second half.”

The players cluster around Beard and his whiteboard diagram, and Ted finds his way back over to Roy at the back of the group.

“You know, if you need to head out a little early today, we can pull through without you. Sometimes a team is strongest when it’s split up to work on all the different things it needs to get done. Like taking care of each other.”

Any other day, he likes to think he’d insist on staying for the rest of the match. But if he’s honest with himself, he knows that he’ll put Keeley first anytime she needs him to.

“That’d be great, Ted. Thanks.”

“Hey, no problem, Roy. I’ll come check up on y’all when we get back?” Roy nods and shakes Ted’s hand quickly, then slips out of the locker room while Beard is saying something about the Sheffield players having “lots of power, like a high-watt light bulb.”

He doesn’t have a car, doesn’t feel like waiting on an Uber, so it’s a half-hour's walk back to the hotel. When he gets there, Rebecca is already waiting for him in the lobby.

“Ted gave me your room number,” she starts, as soon as they’ve said their hellos. “Keeley’s up there lying down. I, uh, I assumed yours was the bed with the unicorn on it?”

“It’s Phoebe’s,” he groans. “But yes.”

“I’m sure.” But she’s smirking like she might not be. “Anyway, Ted’s things are already taken care of, and I think I got everything of Keeley’s into your room, but she unpacked her entire suitcase first thing, so I might’ve missed some shoes or something.”

“No problem. She’ll get them back, I’m sure. Thanks for taking care of her.”

“Anytime, Roy. Really. I’m just down the hall, if either of you need anything.”

Roy nods his thanks and steps into the elevator.

He swipes his key card to unlock the door, then turns the handle and pushes it open slowly. The lights are turned off, and the curtains drawn, so he makes his way carefully, trying to remember if these rooms have any wayward furniture for him to stumble over.

Thankfully, the walkway is clear. He sits gently on the edge of his bed, smiling when the Keeley-shaped lump of covers shifts closer to him.

“Hey, babe,” she mutters.

“Hi,” Roy presses his lips together and pats what he thinks is probably her knee through the blankets. “Feeling better?”

“A little. Rebecca gave me water. And it’s quiet here.”

“Yeah, it is.” He’s not sure what else to say, but Keeley saves him from having to carry on the conversation.

“There’s a unicorn on your bed. ‘S soft.”

“His name is Captain McKibbin,” Roy replies, rolling his eyes even though he knows she can’t see from here. “I’ll tell Phoebe you like him.”

“Please do.”

“Anything else you need?”

“Just you,” she says, and it’s so quietly honest that if Roy weren’t already pretty sure he’s in love with her, it would have sealed the deal. He toes his shoes off and shimmies out of his windbreaker and trousers.

“Alright, well shove over then,” he teases, nudging her shoulder until there’s room for him to lie down beside her. When he pulls the covers back, he recognizes the hoodie she’s wearing as the one he’d crammed into the top of his bag when he packed last night. It’s three sizes too big, and she’s got one of her own just like it, but she looks far better in Roy’s than he ever will.

As soon as he’s lying down, Keeley is turning over and fitting herself against his side, tucking her face back into his bare chest. It’s still early in the evening, and Roy knows that if he falls asleep now, he’ll spend all week regretting it. But Keeley needs the rest, and there’s not much he can do without turning on the TV or lighting up his phone screen.

Besides, one afternoon nap never killed anyone, right?

So he closes his eyes and listens to her steady breathing. When Keeley wakes up, hopefully the worst of the migraine will have passed, and she’ll feel more like herself again. Roy knows they’ve got a pass on team bonding tonight, if they need it, and he doesn’t want to push Keeley into anything she’s not up for. But rumor has it that Beard found a pub with a bowling alley in it, and that’s bound to be entertaining, no matter the scores at the end of the night.

For right now, though, the only thing that matters is Keeley, curled up against him and warmer than all the blankets stacked on top of them. She’s asleep, and he’s following close behind, and nothing matters beyond the comfort they share.

Not migraines, or bowling, or trick plays, or shoes that might have been left down the hall, or anything but Roy and Keeley and this moment together, in the dark and the quiet.

Just them.

#thanks for the ask!#katie writes #anon love #ted lasso #roy x keeley #roy kent #keeley jones #phoebe #rebecca welton #kw21 #prompt fill #requested #just them

28 notes · View notes