#and I wouldn’t have to sit at a desk pretending to be busy

[warlocksoup]

into the spider-verse: nishinoya yuu

volume one, chapter two: calls

word count: 2.5k

masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

On the rooftop of the Flatiron Building, she leans back, and stares at the sky above her. She’s learned that looking down gives her vertigo, and if she’s lying down, she can pretend she’s not twenty-two stories off the ground.

Noya laughs at her, because he always does, but he still holds her hand, because he knows it makes her feel better. “I can’t believe you’re still afraid of heights.”

“I feel like this is a super reasonable fear to have.” She inches a little but further away from the edge as she speaks. She doesn’t even wanna be close to it. “Plummeting to my death isn’t like, a big priority for me right now.”

He squeezes her hand. “You know I’ll catch you if you fall.”

He would. She doesn’t even doubt that for a second. If right now she stood up and decided to take a swan dive off the side of the building, there would be nothing getting in between him and her, and Noya would have her safely in his arms before she hit the fifteenth floor.

But still. It fucking terrifies her.

“Okay, sorry my primal instinct does not recognize that you got bit by some weird science experiment spider and now you defy all laws of nature,” she rolls her eyes, still tightly holding onto his hand as he sits upright beside her. “I’ll work on that.”

Nishinoya leans over a lightly pinches the soft skin of her stomach under her t-shirt. She squeals. “Keep it up with the attitude and I’ll throw you off the side of this building myself.”

“Hmm, not very hero-like of you, Spider-Man.”

“You bring out the worst in me.”

She grins. “I’m going to have to write an article about this. ‘Spider-Man throws innocent journalist with fear of heights off Flatiron Building.’ Jameson will love it.”

Nishinoya scoffs. “Yeah, I’m sure he would. Too bad you’ll be busy being a sidewalk pancake.”

Her eyes find their intertwined hands. It’s always been natural, their friendship, everything that happens between them feels like it’s supposed to. The handholding and the couch-sharing and the arm over her shoulder. It’s always right, with Nishinoya. She doesn’t even have to think about it.

She watches his thumb as it brushes against her skin. “How’s it been out there lately?” she asks.

“Quiet,” Nishinoya replies. “Saving kittens from trees and helping old ladies across the street. Besides Sytsevich, everything’s been quiet since Osborn died. It’s kinda weird, y’know? Like eerie.”

“Yeah, I imagine waiting for the next disaster to strike can feel like that,” she comments, leaning back to stare up at the empty sky. You can’t ever see stars out here. “Hey, Noya?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you’re gonna stay here forever?” she asks. “Just stick around and be Spider-Man for the rest of your life.”

He hums a bit. “I dunno. I think I’ll probably just go wherever you end up.”

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

She’s sitting on the train, a hot cup of coffee in one hand, and her phone in the other. She’s looking down at an email from her favorite Yahoo user: If you don’t want the whole world to find out, do as I say.

It’s pretty explicit. It’s hard to misinterpret that kind of message, as much as she’s deliberately trying to. Her fingers tap against the paper cup, trying not to let panic work its way up her throat in the middle of this train cab, surrounded by bored commuters that wouldn’t flinch twice at any sort of breakdown she could have.

A heavy breath leaves her lung, and she pockets her phone, trying, with a tight feeling of desperation around her throat, not to think of it. If it’s not in her face, it’ll be marginally easier to pretend.

Yachi’s waiting for her at her desk when she gets into work. She slides into her chair, and Yachi skips the greeting. “Jameson’s pissed,” Yachi says, tapping a pencil against her desk.

“Yeah? What’d Spider-Man do now?” she questions, typing her password in. She mistypes it, and curses slightly under her breath.

“The PI he hired to find out his identity quit,” Yachi laughs. “Apparently there wasn’t enough for him to go off, and the guy got tired of Jameson raising his blood pressure at him for forty minutes a day.”

She snorts. Noya’s told her about private investigators before. Everyone touts that they’re going to be the one to unmask Spider-Man, but it’s kinda tricky trailing a man with superhuman sixth sense and the ability to basically fly through the city. “I give it another three months before he tries this one again.”

“I give it one,” Yachi counters.

Her desktop loads up, and she is immediately hit with a barrage of emails, looking like they’re coming in all at once, all in caps lock. “Fuck, looks like he’s taking it out on me again.”

Email after email, the subject lines varying from things like, “This piece is crap!” to “How are you still employed here?”

Yachi leans forward to get a better at her screen. “Oh, that’s bad. I’ll leave you to that.”

And it’s just that Yachi gives her a sharp grin and two-finger salute that another email pops up. No subject line, just a simple: Wait for my instruction.

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

Harry Osborn looks smarmy on the television screen, a thin layer of sweat shining on his forehead and slick smile that looks a little bit too pleased for his father’s funeral. She knocks her knee into Noya’s leg underneath the blanket they share. “That guy’s such a piece of shit,” she comments, jerking her chin forward towards the younger Osborn.

Noya knocks his leg back into hers. “My guy looks like he just won the lottery,” he remarks, eyes not leaving the screen. There’s a bit of history between Spider-Man and the Osborn family, mainly consisting of Norman committing acts of domestic terrorism from the vantage point of a hoverboard, dressed like a fucking goblin.

“Yeah, well he basically did,” she snarks. “Imagine inheriting Oscorp before you’re twenty-five. Basically guarantees you a fucking thirty under thirty spot.”

He snorts. “I’d rather not have anything to do with Oscorp. I’d rather be broke.”

"Oh, you mean the company that basically sponsored the lizard-ification of Dr. Connors? I can't imagine why." She lops her head to the side to look at him. “And anyway, I’m broke. You’re a freeloader.”

Nishinoya waves her off. “Same difference.”

She snorts, turning to face the television again to see they’re playing old footage of Norman Osborn in a lab (coat and everything), explaining the mission statement of Oscorp. To build a better future.

There were rumors about Norman, post-mortem. Details floating around about how he was driven mad in his final year. That the Osborn curse had infected him beyond hope, and his mind had began to decay, along with his body. Some people think he’s been dead for much longer. Some people think a group of investors had been secretly running Oscorp for years while Norman received private care upstate. Some people even suspect him of being the Goblin.

She wonders if that was the better future he had envisioned.

Noya shifts uncomfortably in his seat. She reaches over and grabs his hand, squeezing it tightly in hers. She’s sure he’s wishing the son will be better than his father. She’s hoping too.

His thumb traces circles over her knuckle. He doesn’t look in her direction. She tries to focus on the news and enjoy the way his hand feels in hers before there’s some police broadcast or distant siren or whatever to call him back to duty.

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

Meet me @ 300 W 57th St tomorrow at 8am. Or I tell everyone about him.

She sits at her desk, biting down on the end of a pencil, and weighing her options.

One: she could tell Noya.

There’s not even a chance he would let her go. Not even if he were there. No matter the argument she would present. Nishinoya would sooner web her to the couch than let her go meet up with some mystery blackmailer. She also knows that this threat would do little to sway him. If she tells Noya, the most likely outcome is him, masked up and aggravated, showing up to fight.

Which would result in ijs99ETJfdhsg@yahoo.com telling everyone.

Two: she could do nothing.

There’s really been no hard proof presented to her that shows that Yahoo user ijs99ETJfdhsg knows what he claims he knows. This could all very well be a big misunderstanding on her end. And so what? Even if he does know what he claims to, it’s not like the world would so easily believe that Nishinoya Yuu, random unemployed man, is Spider-Man. Random liars claim to be Spider-Man every day. Noya could easily blend in with random liars.

The consequence of doing nothing though is, of course, him telling everyone. And still, the possibility that the masses believe him or that Yahoo user ijs99ETJfdhsg does have some hard evidence on his side gnaw away at her. She can’t shoulder that.

Three: she could show up.

She could put some pepper spray in her bag and give Noya the address just in case something happens, and she could go and meet with this mystery blackmailer to see exactly what the fuck it is he wants.

And then, he wouldn’t tell anyone.

The thought of it puts knots in her stomach, and those knots are worsened by the acknowledgement that it’s probably her best course of action.

She sighs, using her cursor to highlight the address he provided and plopping it back into search bar. She’s envisioning some deserted alley, an abandoned storefront or someplace that would leave no witnesses if she were to be kidnapped and/or murdered.

What she wasn’t expecting was fucking Oscorp.

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

Harry Osborn’s office is neat. Almost empty, save for a few hard-drives and a stack of unopened newspapers at his desk. The wall to ceiling windows provide a view of the city she’s never seen before, and standing in the middle of it, she feels so starkly out of place. She looks behind her, just to see the assistant that led her up here closing the door behind him.

She feels trapped, at once.

Harry himself is leaning against a window, and as if operating on a que, he turns on his heel, a sickly grin plastered on his face, and, if she squints, she can almost see a greenish sort of hue in the undertones of his skin. “There’s my favorite journalist,” he greets, arms extended out as if he was going to hug her.

She steps back. “Erm, yeah,” she responds, head turning slightly to eye the closed door behind her. There’s something off in the air of room, something off-putting in the way Harry is looking at her. “Is there a reason you summoned me here through cryptic emails, or did you just wanna like, hang out?”

He stops, and lets his arms drop back down to his side, stuffing his hands in his pant pockets. “Straight to the point. I like that. I like that quality.”

It’s strange to be in the same room as him, New York City’s prodigal son. She’s seen his face on the cover of magazines and on news segments and she’s written articles about him. Harry Osborn has almost always been some kind of mythic figure in her head. An untouchable prince. Nothing she could get away with printing in the Bugle would ever have any impact on him.

But here before her, he does not look mythic, or untouchable, he looks like a very sick man. His hair falls flatly on his forehead, and he uses the back of sleeve to wipe off droplets of sweat. The longer she looks at him, the greener he seems, like his whole body is lightly stained.

Harry takes another step towards her. She steps back again.

“Y’know,” he drawls, and moves to stand behind the large desk that takes up most of the room; she watches him carefully, eyes trained on his every movement, “one of the most underrated parts of a power acquisition in a company like Oscorp, is that you suddenly have a lot more information at your disposal. A lot of information that money can’t buy.”

There’s something about the way he talks that is starkly unnatural. The PR training bleeds out of every word, and though he looks young, but the way he carries himself is eerily like his father. It makes goosebumps rise on the back of her neck. She looks over her shoulder, back at the door behind her. “O-okay.”

Harry takes a seat, like he’s unbothered by her presence. His hand lingers over one of the hard drives. “Did you know that, back in the early two-thousands, this company poured millions into researched on genetically enhanced spiders. They were supposed to be this miracle cure. A magic spider that could cure any illness. Until, of course, the head scientist died in some accident, and they had to kill off the whole project, including all the spiders they bred. Y’know, today, I think we only have one thing to show for that project.”

Her face is hot, and her ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton. This all suddenly feels like a mistake, like she’s in over her head and she never should’ve come here without Noya. Her tongue is dry when she tries to speak. “Is this, is this on the record, or…?”

Harry leans forward in her chair, and sneers. It chills her blood, that expression, cold and gnarled. “I’m not interested in going on the record with some second-rate journalist at a trash paper. I’m interested in this.”

Harry Osborn grabs the newspaper on his desk and slams it forward. She takes a step forward to get a better look and knows immediately what it is. It’s the Daily Bugle, with Spider-Man on the front page and her name printed on the bottom.

The First-Ever On-The-Record Interview with the One and Only Spider-Man!

Her hands are shaking. She looks up to see Harry grinning at her. “It’s funny, actually, how someone right out of school, with no credentials and no reputation to go off, could get this kind of interview.”

She can hear her heartbeat, and all she can think of is how unbelievably, colossally fucked she is.

Harry Osborn stands and makes his way to stand directly in front of her. The closer he is, the more of him she can see. The green tint of his skin, the almost scaly quality, the point of his teeth. “I want you to find Spider-Man, and I want you to get him to give me his blood.”

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

On the busy street beneath the Oscorp building, her fingers tremble as she dials Noya’s number. He answers after the first ring. “Hey, what’s up? I’m just dropping this bodega thief off at the station-“

“Noya,” she cuts him off, trying to hold back the sob in her voice. “I fucked up.”

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[magpie-to-the-morning]

The Covid lockdown proved that nearly all office work can be done remotely, so now being made to be physically present is like “… really? We’re back to pretending this is necessary?” And it’s a lot harder to stomach.

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Domestic Life

Summary: Glimpses of your relationship with your wives.

Warning: pregnancy and pregnancy symptoms, mission injuries, small amount of angst, fluff

Word count: 7.6k

Note: All italicized parts are flash backs

You were up when the door opened and the sound of little feet entered your room, but you pretended to be asleep. “Be quiet,” Evan whispered. We don’t want to wake mommy.” You wouldn’t classify it as a whisper, but it was quieter than your daughter, Olivia.

“Then help me up,” you heard them struggle to climb onto the bed and felt the blankets move as Olivia used it for leverage; you grabbed it so she wouldn’t fall. Opening your eyes slightly, you watched your daughter, who was the spitting image of your wife, crawl over to you. You moved quickly when she was close enough and trapped her underneath the blanket. Her squeals and laughter echoed in your quiet room. It made the loneliness disappear. “Livie, help me. Help!” It was easier for your son to climb onto the bed and hang off your back. You let go of Olivia, and she was able to free herself.

“Alright, uncle, uncle,” you laughed and lay down on your back, your kids on both sides.

“Are they coming home today?” Olivia asked. You nodded and ran your hand through her long brunette hair. It was rare for your wives to go on missions. They were only used to provide advice, but sometimes, they were needed. It never got easier, and it still filled you with anxiety. You knew it wasn’t easy for them to be away from you and the twins.

*

It was a slow day. Well, every day was slow, but today was unbearable. It had to be the heat. Even if people had car problems, why would you leave the air conditioner? You were surviving on lukewarm water and a hand-held fan. The guys in the back weren’t doing much better, surrounded by cars and tools.

The bell ring startled you since you weren’t expecting anyone to come through the front door. A girl around the same age as you walked over to the desk. Her dark hair was pulled into a bun, and her blue eyes were striking. You noticed a few things. Right away, you knew she was not from here. You knew everyone from your small town and the surrounding area. Second, she was wealthy; her wristwatch was more than you made in a year. “Well, hello, stranger,” you said with a smile. “I don’t think I know you.” She looked down at the outfit she was wearing.

“Do I look that out of place?” You shook your head.

“I just know everyone in this small town,” your final observation was that she was attractive. “What can I do for you?” The stranger leaned against the desk.

“I’m having some car trouble, and you guys are the only mechanic,” which was true. It was good for business.

“Pull your car up to the garage, and I’ll have the guys take a look at it,” she thanked you and ran out the front door, almost tripping on the welcome mat. You chuckled and walked to the back. To your surprise, the guys were already pulling in a black BMW, and a blonde stood beside it. She offered you a small smile and turned her attention to the brunette when she approached her. It was unfair how attractive they both were. The dark-haired stranger was wearing a white linen top with faded blue jeans. Her pair of high-top Converse shoes were well-worn. Now, the Blonde wore a yellow plaid skirt and a long-sleeved shirt tucked in. You were shocked that she was wearing a long sleeve in this heat.

While the guys were looking at the car, you offered them water and a place to sit in the area with an AC. You were practicing good customer service not because you found them attractive, not at all.

Their names were Kate and Yelena, and they were passing through on a business trip. The guys said that their transmission needed to be replaced. They blamed the heat, but fixing it would take a few days. Maybe it was a little selfish that you were happy the car would take a few days to fix. You enjoyed your time with the duo every time they came in to check on the vehicle.

You liked Yelena’s dry humor, accent, and the small smile she would give Kate. Kate was cute when she stumbled over her words and was easy to fluster and blush. You knew they would be on their way once their car was fixed. Their time here was limited.

Months passed, and you still thought about the Blonde and brunette. What were they doing? Was Kate annoying Yelena with her music choice? Did they make it safely to their destination? They consumed your thoughts even in such a short time they were in your life.

On a busy day at the shop, two familiar faces walked up to the desk with your go-to coffee order and smiles that still made your heart flutter. Five months after they left, they returned to ask you on a date. It was the fastest, yes, you said.

*

“Mommy, I’m hungry!” Olivia wined. She had Yelena’s appetite; she was always hungry.

“Well, we can’t have that,” you smiled. I’ll start breakfast if you two take the pups out,” the twins agreed and were quick to climb out of bed. You were slower getting up, stretching when your feet touched the ground, and brushing your teeth. By the time you walked into the kitchen, Fanny and Lucky were chasing the twins outside, and their dog bowls were filled with food.

Now, it was your turn to uphold your end of the bargain. You decided on scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast with jam. A simple breakfast that you’ve prepared so many times.

*

Long distance took a lot of work. It consisted of video chat dates, constant text messages, phone calls, and longing to be with your partners. It was a unique balancing act, especially since you were dating two superheroes.

It lasted two months. One day after work, you stumbled into your apartment expecting to find it empty. However, Yelena was there raiding your kitchen. “You have no food,” you jumped at the sudden voice. “Do you not eat”? You stared at the Blonde, your heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. “I expected you to be happier to see me,” she smirked.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, quickly dropping your bag and closing the distance. You hugged her tight, finally feeling at peace after a long day.

“I missed you,” she said simply and kissed your forehead. “And I want to talk to you about something,” a rush of anxiety passed through you. “All good, I promise. Go clean up while I figure out what to make for dinner.” As you headed to your room, you heard her mumble, “She is as bad as Kate.” That made you smile.

Yelena was able to make a pasta dish. It was better than the TV dinner you were going to heat up in the microwave. Over dinner and a bottle of wine, Yelena asked you to move to New York City. There was nothing holding you here. Your mother passed away, and your father left you when you were five years old. So you agreed. You put your two weeks in and packed up your apartment to move to the big city.

You met their dogs, which you’ve received so many videos and pictures of, started your new job while going back to school, and fell into a routine consisting of you waking up first, making breakfast and coffee, and starting on any schoolwork that needed to be done. Yelena and Kate would do their superhero duties while you went to work. You tried to routine who cooked dinner, but Yelena was the better of you three.

It was a big adjustment for you, but you enjoyed it.

*

While you were loading the dishwasher, the doorbell rang. You racked your brain on who it could be and dried your hands to turn on the tablet connected to the security system. Your wives were a Black Widow and the former CEO of Bishop Security, your home had the best security system. Smiling, you saw who was at your front door. “Olivia, can you get the door for me?” You called and continued to load the dishwasher. Your daughter huffed but stood up from her spot on the couch. You counted down until she figured out who was at the door.

“Auntie Nat! Auntie Ria!” she yelled, and you heard the grunt of your sister-in-law as Olivia threw herself at her.

“What is your mom feeding you?” Natasha questioned. “I feel like you are getting stronger every day.” The door closed behind them.

“Mama is teaching me how to fight!” Olivia told her aunts. You dried your hands and joined the group in the entryway.

“Against my wishes,” you smiled. Evan was already dragging his cousin, Nicholas, outside, and you had enough time to ruffle his hair as he passed. “Not that I’m thrilled to see you guys. I wasn’t expecting company,” you said, giving the couple a quick hug while Olivia dragged their youngest, Lauren, outside to join the others.

“We thought we’d surprise you,” Maria said.

“Are you hungry? I just made breakfast.” Natasha shook her head.

“We ate before we came over,” the three of you walked out to the back porch to watch the kids and dogs run around. The sight made you smile. “They are coming home today, right?” You nodded.

“I’m not sure when,” you looked at the redhead. “I got a text from Kate right before you guys came over. Things are taking longer than expected,” you rested your hands on your stomach and played with the wedding ring.

“It’s going to be okay,” Maria tried to reassure you. “They will always come home to you and the kids.” You knew that. They promised before every mission that they would come home. Natasha placed her hand on your shoulder and squeezed it.

You were jealous of Natasha and Maria. They were fully retired from active missions and spent their free time training newer agents. They would be fine and come home.

*

One of the hardest things about living with Kate and Yelena was seeing the effects of their job firsthand. It was easier to hide it from you when you lived miles away. No matter how late they got home, you checked over them and helped clean every cut and bruise. In the beginning, they found you on it, but they learned it was for your benefit. You needed to make sure they were okay.

You pushed Fanny and Lucky as you walked into the apartment. The dogs could smell the treats in your bag. “Guys,” you laughed. “Back up,” you managed to set your bag on the chair. They sat without a command, their tails wagging so fast they could generate wind to power a city. You pulled the treats out and handed them to them. They took off to their beds to enjoy it. Not even your phone ringing disturbed them. It was Natasha.

You remembered how terrified you were when you were introduced to the Black Widow. She was intimating and was looking after Kate and Yelena’s heart. If she needed you, Natasha would text you. She never called. Your heart leaped into your throat. Kate and Yelena were on a mission, not Avenger duties. Kate was helping the Black Widow free Widows who were still under the Red Room’s control. “Hello,” you answered.

“Don’t panic,” it sent you deeper into a panic as you sat on the couch.

“Natasha, that did not help,” the redhead laughed. “Are they okay?” She sighed.

“Bruce is looking them over now. Kate got them to the compound before she passed out,” Natasha explained. “They both haven’t woken up yet.”

“Nat, I-”

“I know,” she cut you off. “Maria is already on her way to get you and the dogs. Pack a bag, and I’ll see you soon, okay?” She nodded.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon,” you hung up and stayed frozen on the couch. You knew you needed to get stuff together—clothes for you, your schoolwork, and food for the dogs. But you couldn’t move. You reran the last conversation you had with them in your head. It was quick, maybe five minutes, because you had to walk the dogs before going to work. You didn’t tell them you loved them, and maybe it was too late.

*

Luckily, Natasha wasn’t in the mood to converse as she led you down to Med Bay. Your mind was spiraling, and you were barely holding it together. “They look a lot worse than they are,” she warned you before opening the door. Honestly, you felt nothing. It was like a calmness washed over you. They lay motionless in the beds next to each other with wires connected to machines. You locked all your emotions into a small box and tucked it away. Because if you felt anything, you would break. Maybe Natasha was talking. Perhaps she explained the list of injuries that Bruce and Helen had to fix. It was all white noise to you. “Come find me if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay,” the door closed behind you. This world wasn’t normal to you. That the girls you loved with all your being put their lives on the line for strangers. It made no sense to you. You slumped in the chair between their beds and grabbed their hands. You hated how cold their hands felt; they usually would be so warm against yours. “Hi, my loves,” you whispered. “I’m here. I’m right here and not going anywhere.”

Natasha made sure you spent only some of your time by their side. You had to take breaks, and you were not in the position to say no to the Black Widow. So you took care of yourself because you knew Kate and Yelena would give you an earful if they found out otherwise. It was rare you were at the compound, so it was nice to get closer with the other members of the team. They helped keep your sanity as each day passed, and their condition was the same.

You were outside with Wanda, sitting on a picnic blanket and reading a book. Sometimes Lucky or Fanny would bring a ball over, and the witch would use her powers to throw it. “I’m jealous,” you told her. “My hand would be covered with drool.” Wanda laughed.

“How are you?” She asked. “Has Helen figured out why they haven’t woken up yet?” You shoved your bookmark into the spine of your book and closed it.

“I’m okay?” you questioned. There was this numbness that surrounded you. It felt unreal that they were hurt. With all the stories they told you, they seemed untouchable. “I just miss their hugs.” You missed a lot of things—their touch, the sound of their voice. Wanda smiled.

“They’ll come back to you,” she said. “It’s gross how much they talk about you.” You felt your body heat up but rolled your eyes. They always promised they would come home.

For the past few days, you slept in their bed. Now, it seemed lonely and cold. You walked down to the med bay and sat down in the chair. “I hope you know I will wait forever,” you whispered. “And I love your teammates, but it’s kind of lonely with you two. The world seems a little too quiet.” You felt a few tears finally fall down your cheeks. “Just come back to me whenever you are ready.”

Delete Created with Sketch.

“Do you think we should wake her?” The voice was muffled.

“That can not be comfortable,” that was Kate. So, the first voice must have been Yelena’s. “We know she can be moody when she sleeps in a weird position.”

“Not moody,” you grumbled, but Kate was right. Your neck was already starting to hurt. You heard laughter.

“Are you sure about that, Princess?” Slowly, your eyes opened, and you blinked a few times to see your girlfriends awake. They were awake—alive and awake. Kate chuckled. “She has that same dazed look on her face like when we asked if she wanted to be our girlfriend,” you thought they were messing you up at first.

“You’re up,” you said. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah-” you didn’t give Yelena time to finish before flinging yourself at the Blonde. She grunted at the impact. The dam broke. The feeling of her heart beating against yours caused a sob to escape. “Sh, dorogoy, sh,” Yelena cooed and kissed your temple. “I know, I know.”

“Thought I’d lost you both,” you heard Kate climb out of bed and sit beside Yelena. Her hand rubbed circles on your back to help calm you down.

“We’ll always come back to you, sweetheart,” Kate said. “You are stuck with us. Forever.”

Forever. That sounded nice.

*

It was Maria’s and your job to make lunch while Natasha distracted the little ones outside. You decided on something simple: a ham and cheese sandwich, slices of watermelon, and chips. It was also a meal that could make you nauseous. “Yelena told Natasha you were getting another dog,” Maria said while cutting into the watermelon. You groaned and threw your head back.

“I told her she could get another dog when she fully retires. I am not taking care of three dogs and three to two kids,” you wondered if Maria caught your mistake. She laughed.

“Have they said when they’ll be done?” You shook your head. They loved the lifestyle. You wondered if they loved it more than the family they had back here. You caused a lot of fights. But you couldn’t dwell on it or answer Maria’s question; you heard the distinct sound of Olivia’s squeals and hurried footsteps.

“Mommy! Mommy!” She ran into the back of your legs. “Auntie Nat said she would eat me,” you laughed.

“Oh yeah,” you said, continuing to make sandwiches. “Why is she going to eat you?”

“Because she’s hungry!” She answered like it was the most obvious thing. “And she said you were taking too long to make lunch,” that bitch! Maria laughed at her wife’s antics.

“Go tell Auntie Nat that if she eats you, she won’t get any lunch.”

“Okay! I love you!” She cheered and ran back outside. You shook your head, smiling fondly. You loved your little family and couldn’t wait to add to it.

*

You always wanted to be a mother and experience the feeling of bringing life into the world. Maybe it was your good relationship with your mother before she passed. However, you were scared to bring it up to your girlfriends. Their relationship with their own mother was complicated; one was in jail because she was working with the tracksuit Mafia, while the other was responsible for controlling her and other Black Widows. So, it was a little complicated.

You wanted to bring it up to them, and if they hated the idea, you would make peace with that. Yelena put the finishing touches on dinner while you poured some wine and set the table. You were going to ask them tonight. Someone brought in a baby at work today, and your mind began to create fantasies of Yelena and Kate with their children. You knew they would get mothers with how they interacted with the Barton kids, and Morgan made your ovaries explode.

“Princess,” you felt Kate’s arms around your waist. “Where did you go just now? I’ve been calling your name.”

“Sorry,” you smiled. “Long day at work.” She kissed your neck.

“You know you could always quit,” you rolled your eyes and pulled away from her embrace. You grabbed two glasses. “You’d make a sexy housewife,” you chuckled.

“You’d have to make me your wife first, Bishop,” you sent a wink over your shoulder and walked over to the table. If they knew you were distracted, they didn’t bring it up. They talked about their day and filled in the empty silence. You felt Yelena’s hand on your thigh, feeling the cool metal of her rings on your skin.

“Alright,” the Blonde said. “What’s going on?” You sighed and swirled the wine around in your glass.

“Do you guys want kids?” Yelena’s hands tightened her hold on your thigh. “If you don’t, that’s fine. I will completely respect that, but I’ve been wondering and thinking and-”

“Princess,” Kate cut you off. “Breathe,” you nodded, and you felt Yelena’s thumb dig into your skin to help you calm down. “Do you want kids?” She asked when you calmed down slightly.

“I want whatever you want,” Yelena said, shaking her head.

“That’s not what she asked, detka,” you sighed and leaned back. You placed your hand on top of Yelena’s.

“I love the life we have right now,” you admitted. “But I’ve always seen myself as a mom,” you glanced at the dogs who were eating their own dinner. “To children who walk on two legs instead of four,” your joke got a laugh out of two girlfriends. The two heroes looked at each other; they could always talk to each other without using words.

“We’ve been wondering when you’d bring it up,” Kate smiled.

“You are not very subtle when you watch us with the Barton kids,” your face flushed at Yelena’s teasing tone.

“Answer mine,” you whispered. “Do you guys want kids?” Kate took your free hand and played with the ring on your finger.

“I think we are ready to expand our family,” you looked at the archer and then at the Blonde, who nodded.

“I need to hear you say it, dorogoy.” Your Russian wasn’t good, but you loved the smile on Yelena’s face when you tried to speak it.

“I would love to start a family with you two.”

You decided to carry since it was impossible for Yelena, and Kate was actively training and going on missions. For the first try, you agreed to use Kate’s eggs and a sperm donor who matched Yelena’s features. The hardest part was keeping it from your friends and family. You went to a private doctor in the city. Each day during the process, you became more and more grateful for Yelena and Kate.

In the first round, you had your hopes up, and it broke your heart when you got your period. The second round hurt, but it didn’t sting as much as the first one. Yelena and Kate were tempted to call it off by the third attempt. They sat the emotional toll it was taking on you. You blamed yourself. You were the problem on why you couldn’t get pregnant. You asked for one more try.

It was Wednesday. Yelena met with Sonya, and Kate had lunch with Fanny and Greer. You were walking home after your manager told you to take a half day. All day, you felt off, like a nagging voice was in the back of your head. It made you second-guess everything. Luckily, your boss knew what you were going and allowed you to go home. Before you entered the apartment, you stopped at the corner store and bought two pregnancy tests.

The dogs greeted you when you came home and sniffed the brown bag to see if you had anything for them. You apologized and promised to get them something next time you went out. Walking into the bathroom, your stomach twisted with anxiety and fear. Should you have waited for Yelena and Kate? What if it was positive? Or worse, negative. Your heart couldn’t take it. Still, that uneasy feeling crawled in your stomach. So you opened both boxes and read the instructions. It was easy: pee on a stick, place on a flat surface, and wait 5 minutes. Easy. When you were done, you placed them on the counter and washed your hands.

It was a mistake to take them. You were being silly and dramatic. As you were about to throw away the tests, you heard the front door open, followed by the dogs greeting your partners. “Princess?” Kate called out. “Are you home?” You thought about staying quiet, but you left your bag downstairs.

“Bathroom,” you said. “Upstairs.” You closed the door and leaned on the wooden door, keeping the results locked away. You heard the footsteps of both Yelena and Kate as they walked up the stairs and into the bedroom. “Hi,” you forced a smile, but they looked at you with concern.

“What’s wrong, data?” Yelena asked. You sighed.

“I got sent home because I wasn’t feeling right, and I stopped at the corner store to get two pregnancy tests,” their eyes widened.

“What did the test say?” Kate asked. You shrugged.

“I panicked and left them on the counter,” Yelena chuckled. “Don’t laugh at me,” you frowned. The Blonde took your hand and led you to the bed.

“I’m not laughing at you,” Yelena reassured you with a kiss. “Tell us why you panicked.” Kate knelt in front of you.

“If it’s negative, I don’t think my heart can take it,” you sighed. “I want this to work so bad, but what if it’s me? Maybe I’m the problem,” the archer shook her head.

“This is not your fault,” she said. “We knew this was going to be difficult.” Yes, you knew it would be challenging, but it felt impossible.

“I just want to give you both a family,” you felt tears form in your eyes. Yelena pushed your head down on her shoulder and kissed your head.

“We are a family, baby. You, me, and Kate.”

“And Fanny and Lucky. We can’t forget our favorite troublemakers,” Kate teased. You smiled and whipped away your tears. “Do you want me to go check the tests?” You hesitated but nodded. You were too anxious to move, but also you felt very comfortable against Yelena. Kate stood up and kissed you softly. “No matter what it says. We love you,”

“Love you too,” you whispered and watched Kate enter the bathroom. Yelena played with the hair at the base of your neck and hummed a simple tone. It was soothing, and you slumped into her. For the first time all day, you felt that nagging presence disappear. It was impossible for you to notice it with Yelena so close to you.

“Do you think she got lost?” Yelena mumbled in your ear. You giggled and slapped her softly on her leg. Finally, Kate came out with the tests in her hand.

“Positive,” she said. You stood up quickly, looking at the tests in her hand. She was right. Both read positive.

“I’m pregnant,” you said in disbelief. Suddenly, you were engulfed in the arms of your girlfriends. You felt their tears on your skin. You were going to be a mom. Finally.

*

“Thank you for stopping by,” you said and hugged Natasha. “I appreciate the distraction.” You separated from the redhead and watched Maria strap in their very sleepy kids in the car. Carefully, she closed the car door and joined you and her wife on the front steps.

“So, when are you going to tell them?” You titled your head at Maria’s question.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” you said. Natasha rolled her eyes.

“You do realize you are trying to lie to two former Avengers,” you rolled your eyes. You managed to keep your first pregnancy a secret from them. You wondered if they were still a little bitter about that.

“When they get home,” you gave in. “I took the test two nights ago,” Maria was the first to pull you into a hug, carefully, and whispered congratulations into your ear. Once Maria was one, Natasha took her wife’s spot.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For loving her and giving her a family.” You felt overcome with emotions, so all you could do was nod. You watched the couple get into their car and leave. Walking back into your house, Evan and Olivia were asleep on the couch. You loved it when they came over because they made nap time easier. Carefully, you picked up Olivia and Evan and carried them into their room.

What Natasha said to you wasn’t the first time she’s said it. The first time was when you told her about your pregnancy. The second was when she met her niece and nephew. Then at the wedding and now again. Still, it made you emotional.

You felt honored to love Yelena and be loved by her. It was your greatest accomplishment.

*

Yelena and Kate were more nervous than you as you lay on the medical bed waiting for the doctor. “I love you both,” you started. But you need to calm down, or you will go wait in the waiting room.”

“Sorry, Princess,” Kate kissed your forehead. Yelena’s leg was still shaking as the doctor came in to perform the ultrasound. It was a big day, so you understood where the anxiety was coming from. It would be your first time seeing your son and/or daughter.

“Alright, are you ready?” The doctor asked. With your consent, she lifted your shirt and put the cold gel on your skin. You shivered, which caused Kate to laugh at you. You glared at the archer. “Looks like we have a healthy baby,” she showed you and your girlfriends that was developing.

“It looks like a little alien,” Kate commented. Yelena scuffed, hitting the archer on the arm.

“Do not call your son or daughter an alien,” you smiled at the Black Widow.

“That leads me to the next question: do you want to know the genders, or will it be a surprise?” You planned on having a gender reveal party planned by Laura once you told her. Wait. Pause. Genders?

“Genders?” You questioned. The doctor smiled.

“Congratulations,” she smiled. “You are pregnant with twins.” Twins. Twins?! You weren’t having one baby but two. The doctor explained that twins were common throughout the IVF process and that you looked at your partners to see their reactions. The news shocked them, but you could see the excitement and relief on their faces. You were healthy. The babies were healthy. That was what mattered to them.

*

Keeping a secret was hard, especially one as big as this. Since Clint was fully retired, you saw the man less than Natasha and Maria. However, the Bartons liked to take trips to the city, which resulted in big family dinners. This time, Natasha and Maria were hosting. You walked up the front steps with a salad in your arms. “Are you excited?” Kate asked.

“Nervous,” you said. You were going to tell all of them today. It wasn’t going to be a big deal. Yelena was going to tell her sister and Maria, Kate had Clint, and you would tell Laura.

“We have to do it as soon as possible,” Yelena rang the doorbell. “Natasha already suspects something.” She was a Black Widow; that was not surprising. Nathaniel opened the door and hugged Kate and Yelena tight. You were in charge of the salad, which was tactical. The youngest Barton liked to show his affection with tight hugs, and your girlfriends were highly protective of you. You ruffled the boy’s hair and walked into the house.

Laura was in the kitchen while Clint, Natasha, and Maria prepared drinks at the bar. “Good luck,” Kate mumbled and kissed your temple. Your girlfriends said hello to Laura before joining the others. You placed the salad in the fridge.

“How can I help?” You asked.

“Can you measure out some flour and grab the baking soda?” Laura smiled. You nodded and got the ingredients she requested. You worked in silence, but your eyes kept glancing at your girlfriends. Kate gave you a thumbs-up.

“So, I was wondering if you have any leftover baby stuff?” You asked as you mixed up the dry ingredients. Laura thought for a moment, held tilted to the side.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “We may have donated a bunch. Is your job doing a donation?” You smiled and shook your head.

“No, I was asking for us,” you shrugged. Laura froze while mixing the wet ingredients with the dry as if her brain was trying to piece together what you said. Before she could say anything, you heard footsteps rushing over to you.

“You’re pregnant?” Natasha questioned. You nodded. It surprised you when the redhead pulled you into her arms and hugged you. “I can’t believe you kept it from me, you bitch.” You laughed at her comment.

“Careful, sestra,” Yelena warned. You rolled your eyes at her protective nature. “She’s got two in there.”

“Twins?!” Laura exclaimed.

“Twins,” you repeated. The day was filled with congratulations, celebrations, and so much love.

*

Sighing, you stood in the kitchen with the refrigerator door open. You were hungry, but you had no idea what you wanted. The twins wanted the strangest combination of foods. Kate and Yelena were saints through it all - the morning sickness, the odd late-night cravings that required them to leave bed and go to the store. “Oh,” you touched your stomach as you felt a kick. “Well, hello there,” you smiled. “I was wondering when I would start feeling you.” It was the part you were the most excited about feeling your little ones. It made it feel so real. However, seeing some of the videos of hand prints on people’s stomachs did scare you.

“Princess, who are you talking to?” Kate asked, walking downstairs.

“Come here,” you held your hand and closed the fridge. You took Kate’s hand and placed it on your stomach. “Just wait,” you smiled. It took a second, but soon, you felt a kick. Kate’s face lit up in surprise.

“Is that-” You nodded. “That is so weird,” you chuckled, and another kick. “I think they like the sound of your voice.”

“Maybe they like yours,” her eyes went to yours, then to your stomach.

“Hi, little ones,” Kate whispered. I’m your mum.” You smiled and blamed the pregnancy hormones when tears ran down your cheeks. I’m so excited to meet you and teach you how to hold a bow and arrow. Don’t cause your mom too much pain, okay?” You put your arms around her neck and pulled her into a hug.

“You are going to be a great mom,” you said. She hugged you back.

“So are you.”

Delete Created with Sketch.

“Lena,” you called for the Blonde. You wanted to go for a walk, but you needed help putting on your shoes. “Yelena,” you said again. Kate was meeting with America at the Sanctum with Stephen. So it was you, Yelena, and the pups. The Blonde was upstairs preparing the room for the twins. The plan was to stay in the apartment until the twined turned one. Looking for a new home while pregnant and preparing for newborns was tiring. Sighing, you stood up and walked up the stairs—one hand on your belly and the other on the railing. You found Yelena on the floor of the twin’s room. She was midway through building a rocking chair. However, she was flipping through one of the parenting books she bought when the doctor confirmed you were pregnant.

She was lost in her own world, unaware that you were standing in the doorway. You let her sit there, but she stared at the same page for a few minutes. You made your presence known. “Baby,” she finally looked up.

“Dorogoy,” Yelena stood up and rushed over to you, her hands resting on your stomach. “Are you okay? Is it the babies?” You shook your head. You looked at your girlfriend, taking her face gently in your hands. There were dark bags underneath her eyes. How long has she been struggling, and you missed it?

“I’m fine,” you said. “What’s wrong, baby?” Yelena hesitated.

“Nothing,” she lied. You frowned and brought her into your arms for a hug. Her body was tense against yours, but soon she slumped into you.

“Tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours,” you softly spoke. Yelena stayed quiet but it was okay. You would hold her as long as she needed, even if your back started to hurt. Finally, she mumbled something you missed. “What?” You questioned. She repeated herself, but still, it was hard for you to hear. “Baby, I can’t help if I can’t hear you,” you pulled away from you.

“What if I’m not good enough to be a mom?” She asked. Your heart broke. “I have done many bad things,” you knew some of those ‘bad’ things. You never saw them as bad. She was forced to be a pawn, and she was trying so hard to remove all the red. “What if I hurt them? I can not -” she shook her head. You felt the twin’s kick. They could sense Yelena’s emotions. You took her hand and placed it on your stomach.

“They are causing quite a commotion in there,” you smiled. “I think they can sense their mama is upset.” Yelena laughed, tears freely running down her cheeks. She kept her hands on your stomach.

“I love them so much already,” she admitted.

“I know you do,” Almost every night, Yelena would rest her head on your stomach and speak Russian to them. It was your favorite part of each day. She made sure to make meals that were safe for you. Whenever you needed a message, Yelena was the first to volunteer. “You take such great care of me and the babies, Lena. You are going to be a great mom,” she opened her mouth to argue, but you shook her head. “You deserve this life. You deserve to have a family and to be happy,” you wiped away her tears. “I know you will protect and love these troublemakers with your entire heart.”

“What if I mess up?”

“Then you mess up, but we will mess up together,” you kissed her softly. “Now, my back hurts. Do you think I can get a message?” Yelena chuckled, a smile finally on her face.

“Your wish is my command, my love.”

*

Delays were par for the course. At the beginning of the relationship, dates were missed or had to be rescheduled. You spent nights worrying sick because the mission took longer. When you received a text from Yelena that they were going to be home late, you understood, but it broke Olivia and Evan’s hearts. It was why you caved when they asked to stay up late after dinner to watch a movie. They lasted halfway through Frozen 2, and you were quick to follow them to sleep.

You woke up to your kids being moved, and you immediately grabbed them. “Easy, Princess,” it took a moment for your sleep-induced brain to see Yelena holding Olivia. “It’s just us.”

“You’re home,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. Kate smiled, and you couldn’t help but fall more in love with her.

“Go to bed, baby,” Yelena said. “We’ll put the little ones to bed.” You nodded and kissed your kids before heading to your room. You sat at the foot of your bed and waited for them, stretching your neck. Sleeping on the couch always put a strain on your neck. Yelena was the first in the bedroom. Her hair was wet, and she wore one of Kate’s tracksuits. They must have stopped at the compound before heading over here. “I missed you,” she admitted and kissed you softly. Kissing Yelena was your favorite. It was hard for the Black Widow to vocalize her feelings, but the way she kissed you said enough.

“I missed you too,” you smiled. “Are there any injuries?” She shook her head. “Promise?” she twirled around in a circle. You saw nothing, but she looked tired. “Do you want me to braid your hair, or do you want to go to bed?”

“Can you braid it? Kate is not good at it,” you smiled and nodded. She went into the bathroom to grab the supplies you needed. Kate came in while she was there. Before you could ask if she was okay, she kissed you. Kate was always an aggressive kisser when she came home. It took your breath away.

“Hi, baby girl,” she said. You smiled.

“Hi, Katie,” the archer rolled her eyes. The Black Widow came out of the bathroom with a hair brush and a ponytail. You moved to the center of the bed so she could sit before you. Kate kissed Yelena before going into the bathroom herself. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” You asked, sitting up on your knees and beginning to brush her hair. She hummed.

“Tired,” she whispered. “And I missed you and the twins,.” You wanted to say you missed her too ,and the twins were heartbroken when they were delayed. But that wasn’t going to help.

“Your sister and Maria came over,” you told her. “Someone told them we are getting another dog,” you chuckled as Yelena tensed up.

“I do not know who told them that,” she said. “Maybe it was Livie,” but it probably was Olivia. You knew she would join your wife’s agenda no matter what it was. You kissed her cheek and finished the braid.

“Princess,” you looked at Kate, and your eyes looked at the pregnancy test in her hands. “Is this real?” You wanted to say you would never joke about a positive pregnancy test after the hell you went through the first time, but you nodded.

“I took the test two days ago,” you said. Kate’s blue eyes filled with tears. Yelena stood up and took the test from Kate’s hand.

“It worked?” Yelena’s voice cracked. You nodded.

“Much easier than the first time,” your vision began to blur with your own tears. The Blonde moved to hug you, and you felt her tears against your skin.

“We are getting a new four-leg child and one with two,” she said. You pulled away from her.

“Yelena Belova,” you sternly said. “I told you we are not getting a third dog until you fully retire. I am not taking care of three dogs and three kids by myself.”

“Could be twins,” Kate said, laying behind you in bed. She placed her on your stomach underneath your shirt. Goosebumps form on your skin. You loved the feeling of Kate’s hands, warm and calloused.

“If you knocked me up with twins again, I might divorce both of you,” you teased and rested your body on Kate, melting against hers. Yelena crossed her legs and took your hand. She looked lost in thought. You squeezed her hand, and she looked at you.

“This was our last mission,” she told you. “We are missing too much here, and I do not want to fight anymore.” You were proud of how well you kept your excitement masked. Part of you believed that the only thing that was going to stop Yelena and Kate from going on mission was an injury or maybe even their death. But she was right. She deserved it. They both did.

“I guess I can make room for both of you,” your body shook from Kate’s laughter. The Blonde rolled her eyes and laid her head on your stomach. She kissed it and mumbled something in Russian. You glanced at Kate over your shoulder, and she smiled fondly at the Blonde.

“I love you both,” she said.

“Love you too,” you weren’t expecting a response from Yelena as she was fast asleep, a protective hold on your stomach.

Sometime in the future

Soft kisses on your shoulder drew you out of sleep. You tried to ignore it, but your lips traveled up your neck. “I know you are up, Princess,” you felt Kate’s breath against your neck. “We have a busy Saturday morning. Lena is starting breakfast.” You groaned and burrowed your face deeper into the pillow.

“I wouldn’t be so tired if someone wasn’t so needy last night.”

“If I remember correctly, you weren’t complaining,” you heard the smirk in her voice. You rolled your eyes and climbed out of bed, stretching your hands above your head. You felt her eyes gaze over your naked body.

“Can you keep your hands to yourself if we shower together?” It was the fastest you’ve seen her get out of bed.

*

“I thought I was going to have to call the Coast Guard,” Yelena teased as you entered the kitchen. You kissed her cheek.

“Don’t be jealous,” you pinched her back, and she yelped. “So,” you poured yourself a cup of coffee. “What’s the plan of attack?” You asked. Saturdays were always busy in your house. With five kids, four dogs, and a cat, it seemed everyone needed to be somewhere. Soccer bags needed to be packed, paint brushes to be washed, and pointe shoes needed new ribbons.

It was hectic, and sometimes you felt like you were pulled in a hundred and one directions, but you had your wives by your side to help. “Are you listening?” Yelena smiled.

“Yes,” you lied. She gave you a pointed look, which you ignored, and wrapped your arms around her waist.

“Incoming!” You heard Kate yell, followed by your three oldest running down the stairs. This was normal. Your home was loud, crazy, and chaotic but full of love. You burrowed your face in the crook of Yelena’s neck and kissed the skin you could reach.

“Thank you,” you whispered against her. “Thank you for loving me and giving me a family.”

[gh0stsp1d3r]

maaay I request a fic where reader is in the mood while peepaw is just trying to work? Maybe they sit on his lap and it escalates from there, and he has to pretend nothing's happening while people come in and out of his office 👀 love your work, keep feeding us

I LOVEEEEE, I’m glad!!!

ℱ𝓊𝓃

Warnings: Smut, 18+ MDNI. Oral (m receiving), getting caught making out, grinding

“Yeah. Yeah, the jobs still open.” William said, moving around in his chair, which was something he liked to do a lot.

“Great. I’ll..” his voice faltered when you opened the door, walking in innocently and shutting it again.

“I’ll call you back with all the details.” He said, the man on the line said a goodbye and hung up.

“What are you doing here? Not while I’m working, because-“ he started when you walked towards him. You rolled your eyes, and settled yourself in his lap. He shut his eyes, trying to ignore his building arousal.

“Hello to you too.” You said, giving him a kiss, and turning yourself to face him, now straddling him as you guys made out like a bunch of teenagers.

Some one entered the room, an intern. He held a few papers and stood there like a deer in headlights when you both stopped and turned to look at him.

“Sorry- sir! I was just.. I’ll go.” He said, quickly, opening the door and leaving as fast as he could.

You looked back at William, you laughed at it.

“Stupid interns.” He mumbled, grabbing your jaw and kissing you again.

It all escalated when you started to grind down on him, he let groans escape him.

Then there was a knock at the door, and so he pushed you onto the floor, fixing his tie as you huffed in annoyance.

“Come in.” He said, looking down at you with a warning gaze and back up to his door.

You didn’t listen to his warning, ignoring it as a brilliant plan started in your head.

“Sit, sit.” He motioned to the man, as he sat down across from him.

“So, the pizzeria job didn’t work out..?” He asked, slightly frustrated with the fact that his plan obviously did not work.

“No. I was wondering… if there was anything else..? I’ve been really struggling and-“

William nodded, and you slowly unzipped his pants. He sucked in a breath, and looked down at you. You looked back at him with a smirk.

He tried to kick you away lightly, but it didn’t work. When he looked back up at Mike, he sighed and looked through a file, trying his best to remain professional as you slowly took

“Mmm..” he let slip, playing it off as if he was thinking as he fumbled through the files.

He was up to the desk as close at possible, hoping to god that Mike wouldn’t realize. You licked the tip, giving it a kiss as he slightly shifted around.

“I- you- might have to give me some time.” He managed to get out, right after he finished his sentence you put him completely in your mouth, hollowing it.

“I’m- very busy right now and-“ he took in a deep breath, trying to contain all his noises. “And- yeah… it’s doable, just- some time.” His words were quick.

“Okay…” Mike said, a little suspicious but got up nonetheless.

“See you later.” William said awkwardly, letting a sigh of relief out when he shut the door. He looked back down at you.

“What the fuck was that?” He asked, letting out a moan at the same time, letting his hands fall to the armrests on the chair.

You released him from your mouth, a line of drool following you. He took a picture in his mind.

“Just wanted to have some fun. I was bored.” You said, resting your head on his leg, tracing circles on his thigh.

“Well don’t stop now.”

[tsumuus]

lil something about bakugou with a sick!reader since i got a cold rn

The soft murmur of rain outside your dorm window blurred into the background as you sat cocooned in your blanket, throat sore and head pounding. You'd been stuck here for days now, a cold rendering you useless. As much as you wanted to get back to normal life, every movement felt like wading through mud.

The door to your dorm creaked open, and you didn’t have to look up to know who it was. You could feel the shift in the air, that familiar presence filling the room. Katsuki Bakugou stood in the doorway, his expression gruff, but his eyes gave away the concern he’d been holding in.

“How’s the patient?” he grumbled, stepping inside and shutting the door with his foot, holding a bag of takeout in one hand. His usual confident stride slowed a little as he took in the sight of you huddled on your bed.

You managed a weak smile, your voice scratchy. “Still dying, but at least you showed up.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, but you caught the flicker of worry that crossed his features. He set the takeout down on your desk, his hand brushing your forehead to check for a fever. “You’re still warm, but not as bad as yesterday.”

He pulled out a small container of soup from the bag, something you knew he wouldn’t have picked on his own. It wasn’t even your usual kind either—it was the one he always pretended was too “bland” whenever you ordered it. But here it was, like he’d spent time making sure he’d gotten exactly what you would want.

“I didn’t know you could be so thoughtful,” you teased, your voice hoarse.

“Shut up,” he muttered, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush as he opened the container and placed it in front of you. He helped adjust the pillows behind your back, his movements a little rough, but careful in his own way. “I just don’t want you whining later that I didn’t take care of you.”

You managed a small laugh that turned into a cough. Bakugou’s brow furrowed as he passed you a glass of water, watching you drink with that familiar intensity he always had.

“Stop laughing if you’re gonna choke,” he huffed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. But the usual bite in his tone was missing, replaced by something softer. His hand brushed against yours as he took the empty glass from you, his touch lingering for a moment longer than usual.

There was a silence that settled between you both, one that was comfortable despite your current state. Bakugou leaned back against the wall next to the bed, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the rain outside. You could see the gears turning in his head, like he was trying to figure out what else he could do to make you feel better, even though he didn’t say it out loud.

“Thanks for coming over,” you whispered, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. You glanced at him, your gaze softening. “I know you’re busy with training and everything.”

Bakugou scoffed, but his eyes softened as he looked at you. “Like I’d let you sit here alone feeling like crap,” he muttered. “Who else is gonna make sure you actually rest?”

You smiled at that, a warmth blooming in your chest that had nothing to do with your fever. Bakugou had always been like this—rough around the edges, but in moments like these, you could see how much he truly cared. He didn’t need to say it. The fact that he was here, sitting in your cramped dorm room while the rest of the world carried on without him, said everything.

“Eat the damn soup,” he ordered, but there was no harshness in his voice. He reached over, brushing a strand of hair out of your face with an almost uncharacteristic gentleness. “And stop worrying about me. I’ve got it covered.”

You smiled softly, feeling a little more at ease despite the fog of illness still weighing you down. You leaned into his hand for a second before picking up the spoon and beginning to eat. It wasn’t the best, but it was exactly what you needed in that moment—simple and comforting.

Bakugou stayed with you the rest of the evening, even as you dozed off now and then. He didn’t leave, not once, occasionally checking your temperature and adjusting the blanket around your shoulders. When you woke up to the sound of rain still tapping against the window, he was there, sitting with his arms crossed and his eyes closed, keeping watch over you like he always did, in his own way.

For all his sharp edges and explosive temper, Bakugou knew how to care. He wouldn’t admit it, but you didn’t need him to. You already knew.

masterlist

[eff4freddie]

Physical Therapy

Joel Miller x AFAB Reader No Outbreak AU - 4.4k words

For @punkshort's AU August challenge, in celebration of her one year Tumblr anniversary!

A.N: My prompt was 'lifeguard Joel' and I'm nursing a bit of a sore wrist at the moment, hence whatever this is was born. Thanks for the fun prompt! I would very much like Joel to save me from drowning now, please and thank you.

Warnings: None.

It had just started out as a kind of tickling feeling around behind your ear on your left side, and down along the back to the shoulder blade. When you’d first noticed it you’d thought you had a hair stuck under your shirt, and all day you kept reaching up under your bra strap to try and free it. Later, you would rub the skin red trying to lift the phantom follicle from your skin.

Later, it developed into a coldness, punctuated sometimes with ants marching up and down your shoulder blade. Your clavicle ached in cold weather, and you rolled your shoulders of a morning to try and shake the weird sensations from the joint. You were too busy to worry about it, you had too many deadlines, you could just type with your left arm resting on a pad of paper to elevate it. You knew you’d been working too hard on your paper for your next research symposium. As soon as it was over you’d deal with it.

When it started thrumming of a nighttime you’d just take ibuprofen to dull it, numb it off with a heat pack and an occasional glass of whiskey. But when it got too hard to type, when the daggers started shooting down your arm to the point that you could barely get your sleeve over it, when your shoulder was so frozen you couldn’t lift it over your head to brush your hair, you conceded defeat.

Your physiotherapist was lovely, and young, and fit, and you wished you could hate her. She ran marathons on weekends, on purpose and apparently without having first been threatened, and she gave you a bunch of exercises you promised you would do, made you pay $24.95 for a bit of stretchy rubber you could tie to your doorknob and stretch with, a couple of strength building exercises printed out and folded neatly, which you immediately threw on your coffee table and used as a coaster.

You went twice a week after work. She massaged you until you had tears in your eyes, biting back the pain by clamping down on your back teeth. You lied to her that you’d done your stretches, and she let you, because she was a nice person. Your recovery stalled, and you both pretended not to know why.

In the end, you just got fed up with yourself. You’d had to push back your presentation at the symposium, had found it too painful to sit at your desk for the long stretches it would take to be prepared. Your supervisor had insisted you take time off, that your PhD could be extended, and you had balked at the idea and then, eventually, conceded that too. Your stupid frozen shoulder was icing out everything in your life you cared about. You suggested to your physio you might like to swim.

--

It had been a while since you’d been in a bathing suit. Glad you’d at least thought to shave, you went into the change room dreading coming out again. You’d deliberately gone at 2 PM on a Tuesday afternoon, figuring the only people there would be either 100 years old or ladened with babies, and their bodies wouldn’t be so threatening to yours. You remembered a time when your body had felt strong, when your legs had carried you around European cities, up and down mountains. You wondered where that girl went.

You were a careful person, and you liked rules, so you shuffled as speedily as you could towards the pool, careful not to run. Your brother had slipped once, aged 9 and a half, and knocked out two of his teeth when he went down. Your mother had to wait three months to get them fixed, having to save up the fee, and your brother had whistled slightly on windy mornings. You’d teased him about it, and you felt bad about it now, holding your arm tight to your body so as not to jostle your shoulder.

The water was cool, and you took the stairs one at a time to get yourself into it. You gasped when it reached your belly, reaching down to splash yourself to try and acclimatise. It wasn’t an especially warm day, but the sun was out and it was warm enough on your skin. You sunk down, feeling the water lap at your shoulder. The relief was immediate, the cool spreading over your strangled nerves, and you let out a sigh. You didn’t think you were about to swim any laps, but it was enough to bob around in the shallow end and feel the water carry your weight. Your mind was quiet for the first time in a while. You watched two birds glide on the breeze, ducking down to skim over the surface. You hoped they didn’t shit in it as they passed.

Then, a giggle. A tittering, high-pitched thing that shattered your reverie and made you turn towards it, a scowl on your face as you looked up into the sun. A woman in a high-cut bikini straight out of the 80s was standing at the base of the lifeguard’s chair, looking up at the man sitting atop it. She was practically drooling, flipping her hair and nearly slipping out of her top. You couldn’t make him out, the glare casting him in darkness and too proud to shield your eyes with your hand to get a good look. She had all her weight on one foot so she could thrust her hip out and her chest up. You heard his voice rumble out of his chest, deep and heavy and surprisingly kind. You couldn’t make out the words. You reminded yourself you didn’t care.

--

Your physio was proud of you, and you wanted to hate her for that, too. You reported your attendance at the pool, lied about doing your exercises, and paid another $24.95 for another rubber band thing after you pretended you’d misplaced the first one. You knew exactly where it was, on the doorknob where you’d tied it the first night and then ignored it. But it was a good, if expensive, excuse.

The next time you went to the pool you chose a time slightly earlier in the day, hoping that the midday sun might tan you a little as you rehabilitated. You bobbed around again in the shallow end, experimentally rolling your shoulders and moving your arms in small semi-circles in front of you. The water carried the weight so you could just focus on moving the joint, and when the ache set in you could just float there, let the water carry you completely as you floated on the surface. With your face to the sky and the sun beating down the whole world turned bright and colourless. It sanded down the sharp edges, turned the detail to pulsing fuzz on your retinas.

80’s Bikini Lady didn’t resurface, but you got out when an entire class of 4th graders arrived for their swimming lessons. As you went for your towel you heard that rumbling voice again, booming out over the top of 20 excited kids, instructing them to quiet down so he could teach them to tread water. You wondered if that was what you were doing now, your research and your thesis gathering metaphoric dust on your laptop. Treading water.

--

It took you until your fifth visit to try an actual lap. Your shoulder had been feeling lighter, the joint freeing itself under the water just enough that you could bear the weight of the it as you moved. You had been experimenting with little half breaststrokes, just two or three with your head high over the water and only deep enough that you could plant your feet at the first twinge of pain. But you wanted to try something different, today. You wanted to make it down to the other end, even if you had to grip the lane rope and pull yourself there.

You felt eyes on you as you walked to the edge, and you turned quickly to see the lifeguard was at his station. It was early enough in the afternoon that you could see him properly, his aquiline nose, his curls unruly and chocolate brown. He nodded at you, an acknowledgement that he was keeping watch, and you nodded back to him. It was just you and a man in his 60s in the pool today.

You hissed a little as you descended the stairs, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin. Today it was cloudy, and the water was cooler than you had been expecting, and you worried for a moment it would be bad for your shoulder somehow, that your muscles would be less malleable, less cooperative, in the cold. You swallowed, wondering if you really wanted to do this today. Then you remembered your thesis, and the way you had thrown yourself on dancefloors, in spin classes, ridden boys in your dorm room like your hips would never ache. You wanted that girl back. She was at the other end of the pool.

You pushed off, holding your arms straight out in front of you and using your feet against the wall of the pool to propel yourself forward, letting the momentum drift you the first few feet. With a brave breath in you spread your arms wide in a breaststroke, kicking with your legs to keep up some sort of speed. Three strokes, then four, then five and you were nearly a quarter of the way down the pool already. You just had to keep breathing, stick with it, pace yourself out. You cupped the water with your hands, pushing it away from your chest as you moved. There might have been a little twinge, but you banished any worry. You were doing it, if slowly, if gingerly.

You swam over the point where the bottom of the pool fell away, past the point where you could stand. The water felt cooler, the depth of it stealing some of the warmth, and you felt a little warning tingle up your elbow. Your neck pulled a little to the right to try and dodge the pain, and you faltered a little, lost some of your rhythm. In your surprise you’d opened your mouth and taken in a little bit of water, and you spluttered.

Suddenly your arms were out of sequence, and you were struggling to bring them back together in front of you while kicking with your legs. They felt uncooperative, like they were on different strings, and you were finding it hard to keep your neck bent up high enough to keep your face out of the water completely. You jerked to try and regain your momentum, and sent an electric shock through your shoulder, pain spreading out all the way down to your wrist. You gasped, the pain making you pull your arm into your body, trying to cradle it against your chest, and you started floundering, your nose and mouth dropping beneath the surface as you struggled to stay upright. You swatted at the surface of the water with your good arm, panic in your chest, as you tried to figure out if it was better to turn and head back to the shallows or carry on to the other end.

You heard a splash behind you, a huff of air as a body broke the surface and then an arm around your waist.

‘I’ve got you,’ he said, and you leant back into the warm body behind you, trying to suck in air.

‘My shoulder, my arm,’ you cried, keeping it tucked against you as the lifeguard pulled you to where you could stand. You gasped, choking a little on water but mostly just from shock, your face burning red with humiliation and the pain of your throbbing collarbone. ‘I’m sorry,’ you said, suddenly feeling like you wanted to cry, as you caught your breath, the man still holding you gently around the waist and leaning down to study your face.

‘You’re OK, you’re OK,’ he said, his voice like warm honey as it oozed over the panic in your brain. ‘Take a breath, I’ve got you.’

Oh fuck, you were definitely going to cry if he kept being so nice to you. You felt heat in the back of your eyes, bit down on your bottom lip so he couldn’t see it wobbling.

‘I just wanted to swim a lap,’ you said, and you could hear the desperation in it, feeling as small as a child.

‘You injured?’ he asked, and you nodded. He tugged you further towards the shallow end, led you by the good arm over to the steps.

‘My physio said exercise would help it,’ you explained, throwing her soundly under the bus. ‘I just…I thought I was ready.’ You felt the frustration bubbling over. You had a terrible habit of getting teary when you were mad. ‘It’s just been so shit, and I wanted to…I just don’t even know this body anymore, you know?’ you complained, wincing when you realised you’d just trauma dumped on him.

‘Can’t rush these things,’ he said, unfazed. ‘Gotta take it at your own pace.’ Standing up in this part of the pool the water only came to his waist, and he gestured to his belly where a jagged scar punctured his left side.

‘Jesus,’ you said, at the sight of it and also realising for the first time he was shirtless, water running in rivulets down his golden skin. He was so broad it was no wonder he’d managed to get to you in the centre of the pool in all of three strokes. You felt yourself start to tremble, and you weren’t sure it was from shock.

You’d known, of course, that he was handsome. You had eyes, after all. But up close, standing over you, hair slicked back as his brown eyes roamed your face for any sign of distress…up close, he was devastating.

‘Joel,’ he said, holding out his hand, and you took it, awkward and shy. He told you he liked your name when you mumbled it to him, and you realised he was very good at his job. You wondered where you could find an 80s bikini.

‘Thank you, Joel,’ you said, when your heart had finally settled back into its normal rhythm. ‘I’m sorry you had to…’

‘Trust me, pulling beautiful women out of the deep end is not the hard part of my job,’ he said, and then you watched as his eyes widened, like he was only just realising what he’d said, and you felt heat crawl up your cheeks.

You wanted to ask him what the hard part was. You restrained yourself, because you’d been humiliated enough for one day.

--

You skipped your next session at the pool, instead using the rubber stretchy thing to try and elongate the joint. It didn’t feel as good, and you nearly snapped it into your face more than once, and you definitely didn’t think about Joel’s golden skin glistening in the sunlight the entire time you did it. You didn’t think about his arm banding around you as he pulled you to safety, not even a little bit. The rubber thing was fine. It was going to solve all your problems.

--

You hated the fucking rubber stretchy thing. For one, it smelled like condoms but in a weirdly stale kind of way, and for two you were fairly sure it was going to rip your door off its hinges in your crappy little apartment, and you really didn’t want to have to call your landlord when that happened. It might mean you’d have to tidy up.

Also, it was late Spring and pretty soon school would be out, and the pool would be heaving, and so you had to get your shoulder back to normal as soon as possible before the place got flooded with kids. The bikini you fished out from behind a bunch of old clothes in the back of your closet was so that you could move your shoulder more freely. You were being pragmatic. You were planning ahead.

It was hotter again, the warmth of summer encroaching, and you were genuinely relieved to see the sparkling, clear water when you arrived on the pool deck. You walked, head held high and chest out just a little, past the lifeguard chair, studiously not looking but also really trying to look. You spent an extra few seconds fishing around in your back for your sunscreen, trying to steady your pulse. When you swivelled around, preparing to smear it over yourself, you glanced over at the chair.

Unless Joel had aged 20 years in the week since you’d been, and gained forty pounds and lost all of his hair, he was not on shift today. You felt yourself deflate, your shoulders slumping, your left collarbone sending out a thrum of pain in warning.

It was probably for the best, of course. You were here to do rehab. This was serious medical stuff.

You didn’t want to hazard another lap, not with Beergut McBaldALot on patrol, so you floated a bit in the shallow end and practiced making circles with your arms. You were stiff, having taken a week off to whip yourself up into a pointless frenzy over the lifeguard. The water eased some of the tension in the muscle, and you once again felt your mind start to still.

You wondered if, on his down time, Joel preferred board shorts or speedos. You couldn’t imagine him in a full banana hammock – you could, but you didn’t want to – but you wondered if he was a Daniel-Crag-In-His-First-Bond-Movie-When-He-Emerges-From-The-Ocean-Booty-Shorts kind of guy. That didn’t feel right either, though. His work uniform was boardies, and you decided that Joel was the type of guy who just wore them on his own time anyway, because they fit and they were on hand. As for what was going on underneath them. Well, that was something else entirely.

As you bobbed in the water you imagined his strong arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest and letting you rest your head on his broad, tanned shoulder. You wondered if you’d be able to feel his heartbeat on your cheek, if that close you could hear his tight little exhales as he glided you through the water, held you up so that you could finally, finally let go. You sighed a little to yourself, drifting in the middle of the pool and hoping no one had any plans to swim any laps. You let your hair trail out behind you as you drifted, imagined the slight pull of the water was his fingers threading through.

--

You weren’t hungry but you had nothing at home, so you stopped off at the grocery store on the way home, your shoulder feeling better for having had a little bit of movement. Sleepy from the warmth of the sun and your weightlessness, you barely noticed the man standing at the end of the cereal aisle until you were tripping over him, his arm shooting out to catch you before you could really, properly fall.

‘Ooof,’ he exclaimed, and you knew that voice, felt the furious rush of blood to your cheeks as you righted yourself and were met with the same warm, brown eyes.

‘We really must stop meeting like this,’ he said, smiling down at you, and he was just as beautiful on dry land as he was submerged. You felt your hands start to tremble and you worried you’d drop your basket.

‘Joel,’ you said, trying to hide the comingling shame and excitement on your face. ‘You look different when you’re wet.’

Murder you. End it now. It would simply be kinder.

Joel, to his credit, just laughed a little.

‘Hair’s a lot fluffier,’ he said, reaching up to tug at it and making you want to chew on your own fist.

‘There’s that,’ you said, your voice oddly strangled.

‘You breakfast shoppin’ at 4 in the afternoon?’ he asked, gesturing to the cereal box in your hands.

‘Dinner, actually,’ you said, strangely proud at your sheer level of disfunction. ‘Ever since my shoulder, cooking hasn’t really been…’

You trailed off. Your mom had sent over a couple of frozen lasagnes, and you’d worked your way through those in a week. For a while you got dinners delivered but it got expensive, and then worst, it got boring. Before all of this started there were some nights you’d been so engrossed in your thesis you’d forgotten to get dinner at all. You missed those nights, too. To be so distracted.

‘How’s the arm?’ he asked, and you realised you were cradling it again, holding it fast against your side.

‘It’s slow, and I’m trying to be patient,’ you said, honestly, and his brows saddled. He hummed in thought, pouting his lips out a little. You fought every atom in your body not to lean forward and pull them between your teeth.

‘Your physio given you exercises?’ he asked, and you nodded, avoiding his gaze. ‘You doin’ em?’ he asked, and you were suddenly really interested in the nutritional content of your Cheerios. He snickered out a laugh. ‘No one ever does ‘em.’

‘You speaking from experience?’ you asked, and he smiled.

‘I used to…well, not a physio but I did a little personal training, and uh…basically unless I was there barkin’ at ‘em no-one did what they were told.’

Bark at me, you thought. I’ll do anything you say.

You coughed, trying to collect yourself. Fuck, he was beautiful, but you realised what you liked most was just the warmth in his face, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. You trusted him, you realised. You didn’t know him, and you trusted him.

‘I’m pretty sure my physio knows I’m lying to her,’ you confessed, and he smiled.

‘She definitely does,’ he agreed.

‘I’m otherwise a very honest person,’ you added.

‘I have no doubt,’ he said, with a little twinkle in his eye that made you want to gouge the things out so you didn’t have to deal with them torturing you anymore.

Instead, you looked into his basket and saw kale, a bunch of carrots and a carton of eggs. You grimaced.

‘Please tell me you’re not on a cleanse or some shit,’ you said, and he smiled.

‘Nah, you got me just before I headed over to the candy aisle.’

‘You like candy?’ you asked, and he grinned.

‘Got a sweet tooth,’ he confessed.

‘Name your poison.’

‘Reece’s. The umm…the cups.’

‘The cups. A peanut butter man?’

‘Yes ma’am,’ he said, that southern drawl appearing again. You felt it hit you like a bullseye in your core. You wondered what else you could get him to agree to.

‘A man of taste,’ you said. You were flirting over grocery items and you didn’t fucking care. You would banter about the phone book if he kept grinning with his whorish little dimples out.  ‘Thank you for helping me out the other day,’ you said, and he shrugged.

‘S’my job,’ he said, and you shook your head at him, swishing your hands in front of you as if you could push his humbleness aside.

‘Yeah, but you chose that job, and I’m glad that you did,’ you said, simply. ‘It’s a generous thing, putting yourself on the line for someone else.’

‘Always been a kind of protector,’ he said, almost to himself.

‘I can see that,’ you replied, honestly, and he turned his gaze to you, considering you for a moment. ‘Although I guess a lot of the time it’s just watching people splash around.’

‘Ain’t hard to watch some people,’ he said, gazing down at you, his jaw muscle twinging a little.  You felt your stomach do a silly little flip.

‘No?’ you asked, your throat dry.

‘Mmm-mmm,’ he said, shaking his head but not breaking eye contact. You wanted to grab his broad, golden shoulders and hitch your thighs over them. You wanted to reach up and take his curls in your fingers, pull him onto his knees and his mouth to your nipple, let him nibble where they pebbled. You wanted to drown the gorgeous fucker, just for being so pretty he was setting your brain on fire.

For a second the two of you stared at each other, trying to pretend the sparks weren’t flying.

‘That can’t be dinner,’ he said, after a while, and you realised he was talking again about your cereal.

‘I could get some grown up muesli if that would make you happy,’ you offered.

‘Wouldn’t want you to get malnourished, come by the pool and drown from lack of…vitamins,’ he finished.

‘Lack of vitamins?’ you teased, and he blushed.

‘Can’t have you wastin’ away on me.’

‘So, you’re saying I have to eat the muesli for your benefit?’ you asked, and he shook his head.

‘No breakfast for dinner,’ he said. ‘Maybe I can fix you somethin’.’

Your heart stopped, right there in the grocery store, in your flip flops with your hair still wet from the pool.

‘…’ you said, and he finally broke your gaze, finally allowed you to breathe for a second. He looked thoughtful, maybe even a little sorry.

‘Not professional of me to ask out the patrons,’ he said, after a while.

‘Do you work at the grocery store?’,’ you asked, bolder than you were feeling. He moved closer towards you, just a half-step, so that you could feel his breath ghosting over your face.

‘If I gave you some exercises, would you do ‘em?’ he asked, his voice so low it came straight from the Devil himself. You felt the jolt of want spear between your legs.

‘My physio might get jealous,’ you said, and he grinned.

‘As your lifeguard I feel like it’s my duty to overrule, baby,’ he said. He lifted a hand to your bad shoulder, holding it gently, supporting the joint. You sighed a little, the extra support releasing some of the pressure from the tendon.

‘If you think it’s that serious,’ you whispered, as you leant in towards him, his mouth hovering just out of reach of yours. ‘Life and death.’

‘I’m afraid I might,’ he replied.

His lips tasted like coffee and sunshine. You lifted your arms to rest them on his shoulders. There was not a single twinge.

[katsutora]

— HEED

ft. isagi yoichi ; itoshi rin ; nagi seishiro ; bachira meguru ; chigiri hyōma ; itoshi sae

summary: how they are when you’re busy but they’re not

note: did you call, egoist? your fluff writer could only be me. NO JK ashsjdjahahah i love you guys sm though! thanks for the support! <3

⚘ ISAGI YOICHI

ㅤㅤthe sanest one a very decent one. idles somewhere near you because he doesn’t want to bother you, but obviously keeps tabs on you and will bring you snacks and drinks once in a while. a walking convenient store. will also drape a blanket over your shoulders when he notices it’s getting cold. sooo attentive 1000/10. he loves helping you so he’ll definitely feel honored if you ask for his contribution — though it’ll catch him off-guard too. “yoichi.” “!!” he can be funny like that. will carry you to bed regardless of whether not you fall asleep at the end. chef’s kiss. in conclusion: get you an isagi yoichi.

⚘ ITOSHI RIN

ㅤㅤgets... surprisingly clingy? yep, he’s battling his pride. whenever he’s mustered up enough courage to call your name, it’s instantly defeated by his overthinking and so the words died out in his throat. looks like a lost puppy just sitting there in the corner of the room. the embodiment of a CCTV, watchtower incarnate. very quiet too it’s kind of unsettling. when you finally turn to look at him, he’s going to pretend as if he didn’t spend the past thirty minutes trying to figure out how to get your attention. “rin, haven’t you watched this match five times already?” “and? you took five whole hours finishing up one lukewarm task.” gasp. man needs a subtitle like [you didn’t give me any attention for five hours straight and now i'm sad]. is down bad for cuddles and horror movie night but only if you ask him lmfao.

⚘ NAGI SEISHIRO

ㅤㅤdoesn’t care. flops on top of you. needs to be constantly reminded that he is, in fact, 190cm. NAPS in that position if you still don’t give him attention (a menace fr). spends the entire day attached to your hip like that. no but in all seriousness, he only pesters you like this if he thinks you’re overworking yourself. will just drag a seat beside you and go about his day (re: ranking up in games and watching matches chigiri recommended to him + annoying barou in the group chat) if you’re just finishing a task. fidgets with your fingers the moment he finds your hand idling; leans his head on your shoulder when his game character dies. good for you.

⚘ BACHIRA MEGURU

ㅤㅤcurious on what’s gotten you so caught up that he didn’t see you around the house for hours. once he realizes you’re doing some work, he immediately channels his inner motivational speaker. your #1 supporter fr. “you go!” “you can do it!” “you’re doing great!” but he kinda derailed halfway through so … “eat 3 square meals per day!” “get 8 hours of sleep!” “drink 8 glasses of water!” ?? sure, that’s probably just his way of telling you not to forget to take care of yourself. oh and he’s also made himself comfortable in a blanket fort that’s definitely not sloppily constructed to persuade you to take a break. BSJDBKSNDKS !! d-did something just collapse? “meguru?” *MUFFLED SCREAMING*

⚘ CHIGIRI HYŌMA

ㅤㅤyour cup: *exists* ; chigiri: *slowly pushing it to the edge* lmao. likes to think he’s very patient (not at all he's kinda bored). tried calling your name four times to no avail. the first one was only met with a short reply, then you merely hummed in response to the second and third one. got hella confused when you finally didn’t react at all. at some point, he found himself laying his head on your lap, somehow managing to squeeze in between you and the desk. how? kept staring at you trying to catch your attention but you wouldn’t budge, so he resorted to booping your nose. occasionally reaches a hand across your face to test your patience focus. congratulations, you have a house cat.

⚘ ITOSHI SAE

ㅤㅤit’s only fair that he finds himself right beside you just like you’ve always been there beside him — every step of the way. he’s doing random stuffs to pass the time: scrolling through his phone, ignoring rin’s texts, watching a game, reading a magazine, etc. mmm what’s that second one again? will tuck your hair away for you if it’s falling onto your face. places a hand over the sharp corner of the table to protect your head when you’re trying to grab something from the floor. will stay up with you if you’re determined to finish up the work despite having an early morning practice tomorrow. “aren’t you tired, sae?” “aren’t you?” “not at all because you’re here with me.” yk who’s tired? his manager having to reschedule all his appointments because he ended up oversleeping. help.

© 2023 katsutora ; do not repost and/or translate and/or claim my works

[strwbrrymlkjh]

alhaitham x gn!reader

entering a romantic relationship with alhaitham the scribe was one thing but expecting, hoping, to maintain that kind of relationship with alhaitham the acting grand sage was another. or alhaitham asks for another chance.

!!!: texts in italics are flashbacks. POV changes. angst, neglected reader, lack of communication, mention of alcohol consumption, inaccurate lore, i have no idea what alhaitham does as the acting grand sage, maybe ooc, open-ended, not proofread

wc: 2.2k

AO3

An unmistakable mop of silver hair greets you as you make your way through the hallway of your tenement. Sensing your presence, the figure turned his head to your direction and locked eyes with you. The intensity behind those familiar green eyes instantly rooted you to your spot. One look at his face was enough to bring back the painful memories you tried so hard to bury for the past month.

°

Entering a romantic relationship with Alhaitham the Scribe was one thing but expecting, hoping, to maintain that kind of relationship with Alhaitham the Acting Grand Sage was another.

Ever since his reluctant acceptance of the position of Acting Grand Sage, you rarely saw your boyfriend at home. In fact, you barely see him at all. You understand that he was preoccupied with rebuilding Sumeru and the Akademiya, yet you cannot help but miss his presence; the slow mornings where he would enjoy the cup of coffee you prepared for him, the peaceful afternoons that you would spend together reading in your living room, the dinners filled with pleasant conversations as you recounted your day. You miss him.

The sound of your front door closing jolted you awake from your nap. Sitting up from your spot on the couch, you greeted your boyfriend who just arrived home.

“Alhaitham. Welcome home.”

“Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

“I was reading, actually. I just closed my eyes for a second, and then dozed off, I guess.” You responded, chuckling weakly.

“I recall telling you not to wait for me.”

“I know, but -” I miss you. You cannot bring yourself to tell him. He was already burdened enough as is, and the last thing you would want to do is to add to his worries.

He sighed and offered his hand for you to take. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

°

“Haitham, are you free tomorrow? It’s been a while since we visited the Grand Bazaar."

“I apologize Y/N, but I cannot come with you. I still have to review these research projects in need of funding.” He gestured to the thick bundle of papers that littered his desk.

You offered him a smile. “Alright. We can always do it next weekend.”

°

“I think I can make it in time for dinner tonight.” Is what he said.

You have no idea how long you sat in your dining room waiting for him. The food you prepared was now sitting cold at the table. Glancing at the clock, you felt a sad smile tug at your lips. Another missed dinner. You let out a heavy sigh as you started clearing away the plates you carefully arranged hours ago.

Alhaitham is a very busy man, and with everything that’s going on in the Akademiya, you knew better than to ask him to do things you used to do together.

At this point, the growing list of broken promises were too many to count.

Soon enough, all the pleasant dinners turned into late night meals eaten alone and the once warm bed became your only witness of the cold nights and the silent mornings you endured on your own.

°

After what felt like an eternity of staring at each other, he took a cautious step towards you.

“Y/N.”

Pretending you didn’t hear him, you bit the inside of your cheek and fished for your apartment keys inside your bag.

Once again, you hear Alhaitham call out your name.

You are certain that if you bite any harder, you would draw blood, but it was the only way to keep your barely composed façade from cracking.

A warm hand held your wrist as you were about to unlock the door. Startled, you pulled away as if burned. You rubbed the area, a nervous habit.

Even at a distance, you wouldn’t miss how the light left Alhaitham's eyes after seeing your reaction to his touch. The apology was at the tip of your tongue - you did not mean to pull away, you were just surprised, you wanted to tell him.

Your gaze traveled from his crestfallen face to his disheveled hair, sunken cheeks and the out-of-place cape. Looking at him now, you are certain that nobody would be able to tell that the man before you is the intimidating Acting Grand Sage of the Akademiya.

Despite yourself, you wanted to reach out and touch his face, card your fingers through his hair, wipe the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. You clenched your fist at your side to stop yourself.

A month ago, you left your shared apartment with a promise not to get pulled by his gravity again. You feel your resolve falter now that you’re in his orbit.

Green eyes met yours once more and you felt your cheeks heat up. You averted your gaze and headed for your apartment door.

“Wait, Y/N. Please. Can I talk to you? Ten minutes. No. Five. Five minutes is enough. Please, I just need to tell you something.”

You stopped in your tracks. The desperation that laced his voice reminded you of the moments when you had to fight for even a minute of his time.

°

“It was one date Y/N.” Alhaitham reasons out. “Do not make it a huge deal.”

You turned to him, a look of indignation on your face. “One date? It’s our anniversary Alhaitham. Is it really too much to ask for one dinner with you?” You exclaimed. “I looked like a fool. No, I felt like a fool waiting for you to show up. You did not even think about telling me that you couldn’t make it.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose before turning to you. “I apologize, but you are well aware that I have more pressing matters to attend to at the Akademiya.”

You did not think that your heart could break any further. You have known it for a while now; his duty always comes first.

°

Alhaitham knew that he did not have the right to be here and his presence was likely to hurt you. It was nothing new, he thought grimly. It seems that that was all he has ever done these past few months - cause you pain.

He unintentionally drove you away and now he was here, consumed by regrets yet filled with determination to do better. That is, if you give him a chance to do so.

It seems the odds are against him as he watches you rub the wrist he touched. It was one of your nervous habits. It could also be that you were trying to erase the lingering feeling of his skin making contact with yours, a voice whispered in his head.

You stood unmoving after he practically pleaded you to hear him out and it was enough to give him a sliver of hope.

He cleared his throat. “Have you been well?”

“You came here to ask me that?” You responded, the disbelief evident in your tone.

“No. I mean -” He closed his eyes tightly, willing his headache to go away. The lack of sleep was getting to him. This was not how he wanted this to go.

Gathering the will to speak again, he continued, “You weren’t answering my letters and I simply wish to know how you have been faring.”

No, these were half-truth, excuses. If he really wanted to earn another chance, he should start with being honest with you, with himself. So, he said, “I am sorry. I wanted to see you. I missed you, Y/N.”

The silence that followed his statement was deafening. He watched you study his face before he heard you ask, “Are you drunk?”

“I did have a couple of glasses at the tavern, yes. But I assure you, I am completely aware of what I am doing at this moment.” He answered honestly. “I am the worst, aren't I? I do not even have the courage to face you sober.” He bowed his head, a weak smile tugged at his lips. “Sorry, I’m just - I really am sorry.”

“Is that the reason why you’re here? To share your newfound drinking habits?” You responded coldly.

“No, I do have my reason.” He raised his head to look at you behind his blurry eyes and the sight took his breath away. “But … were you … were you always this beautiful?” He blurted out before he could stop himself. Though, it was not the alcohol speaking. It was the truth. The sun was setting behind you and it bathed you in its glow, casting a halo around your head.

He felt himself struggle for a silent breath as he took his time taking you in. “You are so beautiful, my love." The term of endearment hangs between the both of you.

You shook your head. “You’re drunk, Alhaitham.”

“I’m not.” He insisted. “I’m not. It’s just … I can’t believe I hurt someone this beautiful so deeply.” And in a quieter voice, as if talking to himself, he whispered, “I’m such a fool.”

He knows he cannot win you back like this; not with flowery words and praises of your beauty. Still, he wanted to tell you that and many other things he was not able to.

Panic welled up inside him as you shook your head and unlocked your door. Chasing after you, he had half the mind to hug you from behind to stop you from leaving. But he knew he shouldn't push his luck right now, if your reaction earlier is anything to go by.

"Y/N, please."

You turned to him. "Then, enough with the nonsense Alhaitham. Just say what you have to say and leave." Your tone was calm but he heard the slight tremble in your voice. Even now, he was hurting you without meaning to.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he said, "What I wanted to say is that I am sorry. I know I have countless things to apologize for and I … I cannot express how sorry I am. The word 'sorry' is not good enough." He looked down, ashamed of himself, a Haravatat scholar not having the right words to convey his intentions.

He wanted so badly to tell you how much he regrets taking you for granted and to let you know that since you left, all he could think about is you. Even when he somehow manages to stop doing so, everything he looks at seems to hold a piece of you and you invade his thoughts once more, as if you never left in the first place.

Your favorite mug sitting untouched in the kitchen cupboard reminds him of the coffees you used to make for him. The books gathering dust at his study bring back memories from when you would sit beside him, warm body pressed against his as you read your own books. The bed which was too big for one person makes him think about how lonely you must have been, spending those cold nights and silent mornings alone.

He lays awake at night in that same bed, haunted by the defeated look in your eyes the day you decided to end your relationship, or what's left of it. You were tired of fighting for a place in his life, you said.

The logical part of him argued that you were both better off this way. As long as he was the Acting Grand Sage, he knows that he cannot be the man you need, the man you deserve.

But here he was, hoping that you would still have him, because there's no one else for him but you.

"I - I am so sorry." He has no idea how many times he has uttered that word now. "For taking you for granted, for not fighting for you, for letting you go so easily. Y/N, I love you so much. I don't think it's possible for me to love anybody else." He confessed.

His hands itched to wipe the tears that streamed down your face. Gauging your reaction, he took a tentative step forward. "I know that I have no right to ask this from you, but Y/N … can you let me stay by your side again?"

°

Your heart was racing, everything around you was spinning. Contradicting thoughts were swimming inside your head - you wanted to say yes because you still love him, but at the same time, you wanted to push him away because you're afraid of getting hurt again.

You did not notice the tears freely cascading down your face until a hand wiped them away. Looking up at him, you said, “I don’t know Alhaitham. With the way things are between us …” You trailed off.

He reached for your trembling hand and brought it to his lips. “I never stopped loving you, even if my actions made you think otherwise. Let me prove it to you.”

Seconds pass without any response from you, Alhaitham speaks again, "You do not have to give me an answer now. Take all the time you need. I can wait." His grip on your hand tightened before letting go. “You should go inside now. It’s getting late.”

You nodded absentmindedly. He took a step back and you instantly missed the warmth that his body has to offer. You stepped inside your apartment, but for some reason, you cannot close the door while he is still there.

“Thank you for hearing me out. I meant every word I said, Y/N. I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes.”

thank you so much for reading! comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated ♡♡♡

[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask - CS55

Chapter One - Protected

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

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"Check," said Y/N as her Queen took his Knight. He had no moves himself, none that would win the game for him. In one more move Y/N could take his King, winning the game.

Lando stared at his sister, annoyance and amusement written on his face. "How did you get so good at chess?" He asked and leaned back in his chair. There was no point making his next move, not when she was going to win anyway.

With a smirk on her face, Y/N made that final, winning move. "I played a lot with my mum while you were off with dad."

Off doing unspeakable things.

While Y/N and Lando had the same father, they didn't share a mother. Landos mother had died when he was young. Nasty business really. He and his dad were alone until Y/Ns mother came along.

Landos dad and Y/Ns mother weren't meant to fall in love. It just sort of... happened. She gave the Norris boys so much love while being ruthless with their men. She fell into place in their world and, before she knew it, she was the heavily pregnant Mrs Norris.

A lot of people didn't realise Y/N and Lando were only half siblings. Some didn't realise they were related at all.

After having a baby girl, Mr Norris wanted to keep her away from their world. He already had Lando set up to take over from him, as head of the Norris family, working for the Hamiltons. But Y/N wasn't supposed to be involved.

"How is dad?" Asked Y/N as she packed away the chess set. Y/N hadn't seen her father in near two weeks. His health was deteriorating and he spent all of his time and energy working. Lando would be taking over as head of the Norris family but it was only once his body was in the ground. That was going to be any day now.

Lando cleared his throat and turned towards the window. "Don't be surprised if he calls you into his room any day now," he answered.

Oh. That wasn't good news. Y/N placed the wooden chess set back on the desk that used to belong to her mother and turned back towards her brother. "You have your first meeting with Mr Hamilton, don't you?" She asked, nervously chewing at her nails.

Lando narrowed his eyes towards her. "You've been listening in, haven't you?"

"Only sometimes," Y/N answered, sitting in her mothers chair. Sometimes she'd be there for hours, sitting behind the desk, pretending she was as involved in the Norris Family as her mother once was. They were big shoes to fill. “I could go with you, you know?”

“No!” Lando shouted, slamming his fist down onto the table in front of him.

Y/N jumped back. This was what her brother had been bred and raised for. Already he was ruthless and calculating, every bit the man their father had been trying to turn him into. “Dad wouldn’t allow it and neither will I,” he spat and stood from his chair.

Lando was already dressed in one of his best suits. He had attended several meetings with Mr Hamilton before, but none without his father. This was his first. He wasn’t yet head of the family, but he was going to act like it. At these meetings he was used to being seen and not heard, but this was his first time speaking. It was on behalf of his father, yes, but the words were still coming from Lando.

He marched out of the study, leaving Y/N there. He didn’t apologise for being harsh; it was the only way to keep her safe.

Y/N watched her brother go. As soon as he was gone, Y/N began trying to pull open the desk drawers. They were locked, had been ever since her mother had died. But she was desperate for some way to be close to her mother; it was lonely in a crime family when you couldn’t be involved with the crime.

When she couldn’t get into the desk, she stood and walked out of the room.

The halls were full of portraits. Members of the Norris family that had since passed on. there were family portraits, too. One of little Lando with his mother and his father and one of Lando, Y/N and their parents. Further down the hall there was a portrait of Lando’s mother and another of Y/N’s mother. Mr Norris loved both of his wives equally, that was clear to anyone.

Two men stood on either side of Y/N’s door. They were silent, unspeaking. The guns Y/N knew they had on them were saying enough. She walked past them, giving just a curt nod and pushed the door shut behind her.

Just because she wasn’t a part of the crime family didn’t mean her father didn’t want her protected. There were men outside of her door and men under her window. There were at least two at every entrance; nothing came in or out of the house without them knowing.

She sat on her bed and looked towards her window. Normal girls could go out and spend time with their friends. They could go out and get dinner, sit at a bar with a cocktail in hand. They could go out to the club and dance the night away. But not Y/N. She had to sit in her room and dream of a life she could never have.

***

Lando was in the big leagues now. When he was a boy he used to sit on the side lines, taking notes for his father. But now he was up at the table with the other heads of house. Charles Leclerc of Monaco, Carlos Sainz Sr, one of the heads of family from Spain. There was Sergio Perez from Mexico, Jos Verstappen from the Netherlands and more.

At the head of the table was Lewis Hamilton. He ran everything, kept all of the families together. Before him there had been Schumacher and then Vettel. Hamilton was a wonder boy. He’d risen up in the ranks in the button family before breaking away and starting his own. It had started a war, a war that Hamilton had been quick to put an end to.

He was in charge of the crime family now.

Lando listened as Lewis ran the meeting. He spoke to each family member, a man from his organisation taking notes. “We have a newcomer at the table today,” Lewis bellowed, leaning forward with his hands clasped in front of him. “As we all know, Norris isn’t in the best of shape. So, in his steed, he has sent his son, Lando.”

Lando has a tight smile as he waved to the rest of the room. He’d met them all before, Sainz and his father were once friends. He’d spent a lot of time with his son when he was younger.

Finishing the meeting, Hamilton dismissed everybody. “Ah, Lando, can I speak to you for a moment?” He asked as he lit a cigar.

Lando walked over to him and accepted the cigar he offered to him. “What can I do for you, sir?” Lando asked, sitting in the seat beside his own.

Hamilton took his cigar from between his lips. “As you know, your father and Sainz haven’t always been the best of friends. There has been something brewing between your families for a while now and it is my job to squash it. Your father, Sainz and I have been having talks for years now, and we came to one conclusion.”

Lando cleared his throat. He hadn’t smoked very much before, but it was a habit he had been picking up since his father’s health started declining. “What might that be, sir?”

“Your sister.”

Lando’s face paled. His eyes went wide, and his mouth felt metallic. “What sister?” His protective instincts kicked in, but he couldn’t do anything in front of Hamilton. Lando felt sick.

“Before your mother died, she came up with a plan to unite your families. Your sister is to marry Sainz Jr and you’re to make sure it happens, okay?”

Hamilton gave Lando no time to reply. He put out his cigar and walked away, leaving Lando still sitting at the table.

He couldn’t stand up. His chest hurt and he needed to empty his stomach. Lando stood from his seat and rushed out of the room. He made his way through the halls and out to his car. He couldn’t throw up in Lewis Hamilton’s bushes, could he? No, Lando had to get home.

Driving around the fountain, Lando sped back home. He could hide his sister away, couldn’t he? Send her somewhere that didn’t have any of the families in power. Their house in Monaco was a no go, not while Charles was in power. Maybe their house in Belgium, but too many families in power surrounded the country.

Driving home was a blur for Lando. He couldn’t allow his little sister to marry into another crime family. And it was a plan his stepmother came up with. She was the one hellbent of protecting Y/N in the first place; how could she let this happen?

As soon as Lando was out of his car, he threw up onto the gravel driveway. He threw up until he had nothing left in his stomach. Lando couldn’t face going inside, not yet. He couldn’t tell her, not yet. How was his father allowing this?

Lando wanted them answers. He wanted them real bad.

Leaving his car where it was, Lando marched towards the house. He threw his eyes to somebody at the front door and stormed past them. Up several flights of stairs and towards the furthest bedroom. When he walked past Y/N’s bedroom, his steps faltered. She was in there, and she had no idea what was waiting for her.

Lando burst into his father’s bedroom. It was a horrible sight to see, him laying in bed hooked up to oh so many machines. He stared at Lando as he walked over to the desk, grabbed the chair and dragged it back over to the bed. “Dad,” he said, staring at him.

Mr Norris didn’t respond. He stared at his son, waiting for him to continue.

“I had my first meeting with the heads of the families today,” Lando said, his leg bouncing. “Hamilton pulled me to the side to talk about a deal Helena made with Sainz. Do you already have an invite to Y/N’s wedding? Or am I the last to find out? Well, aside from Y/N, of course.”

Mr Norris coughed. “Has she met with him yet?”

“What?”

“Has Y/N met with Carlos Sainz Jr yet?”

Lando shook his head. “No, she hasn’t.”

“Arrange it for the end of the week. I want the ball rolling on this as soon as possible,” said Mr Norris. He waved his hand, dismissing his son, but Lando ignored it.

“No,” he said and stood up. He pushed his hair back, knocking it over. “No, not until you tell me why! Why are you throwing Y/N to the lions when we’ve spent the last twenty years trying  to protect her?!” He shouted, fury written on his face.

Mr Norris shook his head. "You know what will happen if we do not make peace with Sainz. Set up a meeting between Y/N and Sainz Jr."

With no other choice, Lando left the room. He stopped just outside of his father's door and punched the wall. The men guarding Y/N's door watched, but they didn't let their gazes linger.

Lando let out a shout as his fist connected with the wall, but he didn't register the pain. There were more pressings things at hand.

He marched down the hallway and pushed his way into Y/Ns room. "Lan!" She cried when he pushed the door shut behind him. "How was your meeting with the heads of family?"

This wasn't something he wanted to talk about. Especially not with Y/N. But, what other choice did he have? He was supposed to arrange a meeting between her and Carlos.

Lando stood by the window, looking out into the gardens. "We've got something we need to talk about," he said, refusing to look at her.

"What's the matter, Lan?"

With a sigh he turned around and sat on the bed beside her. "Before your mother passed, she set up a business deal using the help of our dad, Hamilton and Sainz. This business deal actually involves you."

"Me?" Y/N gasped as she stared at her brother. "What could I possibly have to do with anything?"

Lando sucked in a breath. "You know the problems we've been having with the Sainz family? Well, your mother, our father, Hamilton and Sainz had been working together to try and rectify this. Before she died, your mum came up with a solution."

"Lan, just tell me," she muttered, picking at the skin around her nails.

This was the hardest thing he would ever have to do. "Y/N, you're getting married," he said quickly. "It was your mothers ideal, so there can't be any other solution."

Y/N was quiet for a moment. Married. She was going to be getting married.

"I didn't want this for you, but we have no other choice," he continued. "Please, Y/N, try to understand."

"No, Lan, I understand. I get it," she mumbled, placing her hands in her lap. "I know its something I have to do. Just, tell me, who am I going to be marrying?" But Y/N was pretty sure she already knew.

"Do you remember my old friend, Carlos?"

[screeblees]

Yandere Manipulating Boyfriend x Kidnapped Reader Headcannons

Yandere Manipulating Boyfriend is Male and Kidnapped Reader is Gender Neutral

Been a bit since I've posted! I was in a bit of a slump and got hit with creative juices - definitely wrote way more than usual!

I hope this isn't too long, I kinda love this idea if you can't tell :3

Find my Masterlist here !

Please enjoy!!<33

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who pretends to be in a normal relationship.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who stalked you for months after his attention was captured, taking photos and videos all for blackmail (among other things…)

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who broke in and drugged you with some sleeping pills, he knew you hadn’t been sleeping well after all! 

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who took most of your belongings with him once he kidnapped you, mixing everything with his home’s own décor to make it look like you’d lived there for months, ensuring details such as two toothbrushes, your hygiene products being in a similar place to where they were in your own home, two sets of dishes in the sink, any work documents or notes being scattered about the desk, any little detail he could think of to make it look like you had went about your day just the night prior.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who knew you wouldn’t believe it, but at the very least you would doubt your own mind, which was exactly what he wanted.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who assured he removed all sharp (or potential escape) objects from your shared bedroom, the windows are locked and tinted and you are laid in your bed while he cuddles you, waiting on you waking up.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who acted confused and worried from the moment you woke up, he really had no idea why you didn’t remember your loving boyfriend, you had been living with him for months! 

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who would restrain you if you fight him, explaining it away by him being scared of you in your “amnesic” state and not wanting you to hurt yourself or go outside and get lost since you seemingly don’t remember anything about the largest part of your life.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who has written an entire book’s worth of stories to fully flesh out your relationship; how you met, how you kept bumping into one another, your first, second, third and-so-on dates, moving in together, the list goes on!

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who tells quite detailed (made up) stories of your time together, all taken from his previous writings which proving immensely helpful in avoiding contradicting himself and explaining why he knows everything about you!

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who crushes any pesky stray thoughts that may lead you to doubt him swiftly and completely. (“The lack of pictures? Oh, well, I’m pretty self conscious so I prefer taking pictures of you! My favourites are the candid ones, you just look so peaceful!”) You end the conversation glad that you asked, not realising that he had technically completely avoided the question and he later returns with a few pictures of important anniversaries which he commissioned from a very talented photoshopper.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who confiscates your phone, citing that you shouldn’t be on social media while recovering, all that negativity may impact your health! He may message your friends, family and workplace, just to let them know you’ll be unreachable for the time being, that’s all! (and then if you have a few people less in your contacts and a few more in your blocked list then who’s to say what happened?)

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who spoon-feeds you, refusing to let you do more than sit in bed, rest, and talk to him. For the time being he’s keeping you to soft foods; soup, porridge, mashed potatoes, pasta, scrambled eggs, applesauce, yoghurt and pudding for a treat! (It’s nobody’s business if he’s adding some medicine to make you hazy and docile to make you feel better and make you weaker since you seem to be getting sick).

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who slowly allows you to get better you to do more for yourself, although he still encourages you to stay in bed and enjoys feeding you himself, he’s allowed to be a little selfish - after all, he’s still worried for you!

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who begins the heavy guilt-tripping (as if he hadn’t already) once you start insisting on getting out of bed and doing things on your own; “I just want the best for you, why won’t you let me help you?” “Are you trying to hurt yourself? Straining yourself will only put you back, I know you don’t know me but can’t you see that I only want what’s best for you?” “I know you don’t remember me but I love you, can’t you at least appreciate my love for you if you can’t love me back?” 

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who is always cheerful and sweet (sickeningly so) and suffocatingly affectionate, no matter how you resist his efforts the most upset he’ll get is a pitying or disappointed look. Anything he really doesn’t like is simply ignored, you didn’t mean to say that - obviously - so he just won’t hear it in the first place!

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who’s reactions grow twitchier the more you insist and fight against him, he’s extremely good at keeping his charming smile from slipping but he must admit it grows more and more difficult every day as you barrage him with your range of pleads and reasoning to demands and yelling - the former only causing him to say “Oh, honey…” in a pitiful manner and take you in his arms, rocking and shushing you like a parent would for a crying child - and the latter only receives a disappointed yet strict “I’ll leave you to calm down.” and a firmly shut door.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who’s patience has grown thin and his tolerance is reached as they are exhausted by the same song and dance every day, the same ungrateful tone, never thanking, only asking for more. 

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who finally snaps.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who screams at you “WHY CAN’T YOU JUST BE HAPPY?! WHY CAN’T YOU JUST APPRECIATE ME?!” 

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who’s eyes are wide and bloodshot, his usually put-together appearance has been thrown to the wind, dishevelled clothes and messy hair taking its place. One hand grips the side of the bed frame above your bed as he leans over you. The silence is searing in the seconds after, you both stay frozen still, neither of you expected the outburst and neither know how to react or proceed.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who clears his throat and takes several steps back, unable to make eye contact as mutters an apology for his outburst and leaves with the excuse of making dinner, no matter your reaction. He’ll feel guilt in his throat for days to come but will never address what happened - and will shut you down with a loud and obvious change in subject if you ever try to - instead bringing you gifts such as stuffed toys, blankets, soothing drinks and a little more sugary food than he had previously given you (it doesn’t matter if you don’t like them, although he’ll adapt to your tastes, the nature of the gifts will remain the same).

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who restrains again you if you start being physical with him, clearly your amnesia has seriously affected you to make you act like this. 

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who allows you to work from home if your (previous) job accommodates it, of course you don’t need to work (really, he’d be able to support you without you lifting a finger) but he thinks it’ll give you something to do and keep your mind from wandering into dangerous territory (with limits, naturally).

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who still dotes like the day you woke up, still spoon-feeding and even carrying you from room to room (especially when you are not yet trusted, instead you are placed in your chair to have dinner together and are expected not to get up until you are carried back to your room afterwards) and even just having you sit on his lap as he plays with your hair. 

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who sometimes uses a baby-voice when talking to you, especially when you’re trying to have a serious conversation. (“Aww is someone’s feelings acting up? I think someone needs a cuddle and a nap, huh?”)

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who takes a very, very long time to really trust you (or rather, trust his manipulation and gaslighting have taken effect, maybe with a touch of stockholm syndrome) and when he does, expect to not have a moment without supervision. Once he lets you out of your room into the rest of your apartment, naturally there’s cameras covering every corner, sensors on all the doors and windows and a ring doorbell so you don’t interact with anyone when he’s not there. And maybe, if you’re really moved by his tactics, taking up the role of a loving partner, then you may be rewarded with rare dates - outside of your shared home - to places like the aquarium or zoo, an activity to keep your mind occupied.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who claims to only want what's best for you, to help you in your recovery and to settle into your new normal.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who spoils you, although dates outside the apartment are few and far between - even once you earn his trust - he tries to have a romantic evening at least once a week. Of course, he cooks almost every night - your boyfriend should be able to tend every need - but he puts in special effort on these date nights, maybe a more expensive meat (if that’s your preference, he’ll adapt for whatever your dietary habits are) the dish will be made with spices and oils to enhance the rich flavours of the dish to a mouth-watering extent - and naturally candles will surround where you eat and several vases of a mix of flowers all relating to the love he has for you, most of which in shades of red such as roses, chrysanthemums, carnations with the rare white alyssum or bergenia mixed into the array of bouquets around your home.

❥ Yandere Boyfriend who loves you unlike anyone else ever could…

[havensins]

Ok, ok, I had another idea. Ftm!bratty!Loki, dumbification, hair pulling, him using his magic to tease us, need I say more?

Have a nice night/day<3

i can just see it now; loki using his magic to tease because you’re ‘too busy’ to tend to him at the moment.

with you working from home and all, you still had to do actual work and loki wouldn’t be too fond of it. he’d sit beside you and pretend he was interested but in reality.. he was thinking of ways he could tile you up.

it would start with small feather-like touches along your cock at first, and then gradually it would start to feel like you were being palmed.

your first thought is to turn to loki, who’s staring at you mischievously with a faux innocent smile on his face.

(you’d genuinely just have to break the brat from there; you’d have to reduce him to a nonsensical babbling mess. and even then, he’d be obedient and good for you for a couple days max.)

you’d pull the little brat onto your thigh and use your non-dominant hand to grab a handful of his hair. he’d inhale sharply and you’d be able to feel his his pathetic cunt drip onto your thigh. his magic halts dramatically as his breathing gets heavier.

“loki, my love, this isn’t the way to get my attention.” you tell him, and his smile returns to his face. “i’d say it got your attention quite well… no?” he grins, subtly grinding himself along your thigh.

you knew what game he was trying to play at; it wasn’t gonna end well for your dumb baby.

you hum, letting go of his hair and he frowns. you manage to be able to work around him, placing your hands on the keys of your laptop. “wha- no, what are you doing?” he questions, clearly in some sort of distress.

“i’m working love.. just like how i was when you decided to tease.” you explain, letting your eyes flicker from the papers scattered along your desk and back to your document. “you wanna get off? do it yourself.” you murmur and promptly proceed to ignore the man perched on your right thigh.

he starts to grind and moves slow along your thigh. he sniffles, tears gathering behind his eyes. actually focussing on your work becomes harder.. how could you focus when you had a lap full of a whimpering and whining loki with a cunt that needed to be filled?

“help me, please? need- haah, need your attention,” he whimpers, his cunt steadily leaking against your thigh. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he cries out, clutching at your waist as his hips stutter and tremble.

he’s getting frustrated. riding your thigh is providing him with friction but it isn’t quite enough. “oh, sweetheart. you cant do it yourself can you? my dumb little baby can’t get off without my help..” you tease, finally touching him and slipping a hand underneath his underwear to rub at his clit. “just be good and let me help you,” you whisper, applying pressure and enjoying the way he wails.

[dilf-lover99]

Playing Pretend | J.P.

Pairing: James Potter x Female Gryffindor!Reader

Summary: When Reader's best friend James requests her assistance capturing the attention of Lily Evans, the two decide to make some changes to their relationship. Sort of.

Warnings: fluff, best friends to lovers / fake dating (two superior tropes), not much of a slow burn (sorry guys), a healthy amount of pining, maybe a teeny bit of angst if you squint, a kiss, i think that's it this is like the softest thing i've ever written

Word Count: 5.1k

a/n: i'm sorryyyyyy !!! i'm sorry i ghosted you, i promise it was an accident ! i've been working a TON lately, but i finally found a bit of time to write and i missed it so much. i hope this was worth the wait ! let me know what you think. p.s. love u lots<3

There were three things in life of which you were certain.

The first is that, no matter how skeptical one may be, the sorting hat irrefutably knows best. Being sorted into Gryffindor on your first day at Hogwarts was the greatest thing that ever happened to you, it introduced you to the friends who became your family.

The second is that you will never, swear on Merlin’s beard, read a book you’ve borrowed from Remus in the bath; Some lessons are best learned after making mistakes.

The third, and most important, is as follows : James Fleamont Potter is, and always will be, your very best friend.

You’re confident that there’s nearly nothing in the world the two of you wouldn’t do for each other if asked.

James has always been there for you in times of need, with a comforting embrace or a ludicrously ill-advised joke. He always talks out your problems with you, agreeing with your side of the situation even when you think you’re in the wrong.

There’s not a single problem the two of you haven’t been able to overcome together.

You’ve also spent countless waking hours of your life pretending to hold a flicker of interest in the precise mixture of colours in Lily Evans’ eyes, the scent of her hair, or wether or not she laughed at James’ joke that day.

The price of friendship, you suppose.

“This is the year, (y/n), I can feel it!” Your bespectacled best friend announces from his position sprawled across your bed on his stomach.

You withhold the good-natured urge to roll your eyes, exhaling an small breath through your nose with a smile, “You say that every year, James.” Ceasing the previous circles you were spinning in your desk chair, you make eye contact with James and continue, “Though I admire your persistence, perhaps it’s time to give it a rest? Maybe take up another hobby? Clearly quidditch isn’t keeping you busy enough to leave Evans be.”

“Ha Ha.” James grumbles sarcastically. The two of you have conversations like this regularly, though your attempts to divert his interests have consistently proven futile. “It’s different this year. I’m different this year. I’m trying something new,” He slowly pulls himself up from his relaxed position, now sitting at the edge of the bed to face you directly, “If you agree to my plan, that is.”

“Well, that depends,” You hesitate, eyeing your best friend suspiciously. Over the course of your friendship you’ve always had a difficult time saying no to James, which has gotten you into more than your fair share of trouble.

“Is there any part of this plan that could result in our expulsion? Or worse- Will my hands be stained again? It took me weeks to get the dye off my fingers after your last so called plan.” 

Without recounting each and every detail, James’ last plan involved the two of you, a pint of florescent pink hair dye, and the head of an unsuspecting Severus Snape, and resulted in semi-permanent dye-stained hands and a rather stern talking-to from Dumbledore.

James laughs mirthfully at the memory, “Come on, people loved that! We loved that!”

“Yes, we did.” You agree with a grin despite yourself.

James throws a wink your way, shaking his head amusedly before speaking again, “No, this’ll be nothing like that. Entirely free of repercussions, I swear it.” His tone resembles that of when he’s asking you for a favour, and judging by the way he’s dancing around the words, you have a feeling you’re not going to welcome his idea with open arms.

“Alright, Potter. Out with it, will you?” You voice lightly, “It can’t be worse than any other plan you’ve had.”

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend.” He rushes out, the shadow of a blush forming evenly across his pale cheeks at his own words.

“O-kay,” You draw out, eyes wide, “Perhaps I was wrong.”

“I know it sounds mad, but hear me out.” He starts quickly, “I was talking to Pads about it and he was all ‘Maybe if you weren’t so available all the time, she’d actually want you around’” He lowers his voice an octave, a dramatized attempt at impersonating your shared friend, “And I know what you’re going to say, ‘Why would you take relationship advice from Sirius of all people’” His voice raises higher now as he butchers an impression of your own, “But he had a point! And I thought, well, I wouldn’t be available if I had a girlfriend, would I?” 

You’re unsure if you should interrupt him or not, equal parts amusement and disapproval swirl around in your brain as he speaks.

“But I couldn’t do that to a real girl, y’know?” If he notices the icy glare you shoot his way at this, he does a bang-up job pretending he doesn’t, “Just string her about whilst I’m in love with Evans- But I could pretend! And who better to pretend with than my own best girl?” He finishes with a smile so sweet you almost forget the preposterous nonsense he’s just spouted.

Almost.

“There are about ten things wrong with what you’ve just said- Eleven if you count that horrible impression of me! Merlin, James, do I really sound like that to you?” James chuckles at you, running his lithe fingers through the charming mess of his curls.

“Don’t answer that.” You speak before he has a chance to reply, abandoning your chair in favour of standing in front of him.

“You really have gone mad, haven’t you? What exactly do you think is going to happen? She’ll see us together and be overcome with jealousy? Leaving her no choice but to confess her undying love for you?” You highlight the absurdity of his proposition, poking fun with dramatic sighs and emphatic hand gestures.

“Well it sounds a bit nutty when you say it that way, with your sarcasm and the like, but yes. That’s what I’d like to happen.”

“It’s not going to happen, James.” You deadpan.

“Why not?”

“Because that’s not how it works!” You state, humour and disbelief mingling together, “If she doesn’t want you now, why’d she want you after you get a girlfriend? And if she did, would that really be the type of girl you’d fancy anyhow? A boyfriend-wanter?” 

James chuckles amusedly, completely missing the nuance of your words, “Boyfriend-wanter?” He echoes teasingly.

You sigh emphatically, taking a seat on the bed beside your best friend, “You’ve lost the plot, mate.”

James’ previous contentment is no longer at the forefront of his emotions, instead there’s a vulnerable sincerity that tugs at your heart strings with all its might. “Look, I know it’s a long shot, but if there’s even a chance of it working, I just- I have to try, (y/n),” His warm hazel eyes are boring directly into your own with a distinct sense of desperation as he mutters a final, “Please?”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, James.” Your voice wavers with nerves at the thought of walking hand-in-hand with James into the Great Hall where all your friends sit, blissfully unaware of the delusional plan James has concocted to win the affections of Lily Evans.

“Come on, (y/n), it won’t be so bad. You used to love holding my hand.” James jests with an irritatingly loveable grin, not-so-subtly referencing the ancient crush you harboured toward him in the beginning of your first year.

“Yes, very well, James. I had a crush on you when I was eleven. I also slept with a Beatles nightlight and cut the crusts off my toasts.” You’re starting to wonder how on earth you could’ve agreed to this when James grabs your hand, intertwining his slender fingers with your own and giving a gentle, reaffirming squeeze.

“Thank you for doing this. I know it’s barmy, truly, but it means everything that you’re willing to try.” His voice is softer than you’ve heard in a long time, and in the back of your mind you can’t help but think this is the boy you’d fancied all those years ago.

You squeeze his hand back assuringly, “I’d try anything for you.” You smile sincerely.

“Oh really? Should you have happened to change your mind about a certain prank involving-”

“Almost anything.” You interrupt with an amused roll of your eyes.

The two of you share another smile before turning toward the looming entryway to the Great Hall.

“Shall we, darling?” James emphasizes the final word teasingly.

“We’d best, before I change my mind, love.” You retort.

You’re familiar with the expression ‘so silent, you could hear a pin drop’ but you’ve never experienced anything of the sort. Until now, that is.

The moment you and James walk through the doors, all eyes are on the two of you. More specifically, all eyes are continuously moving from you, to James, to your intertwined hands, then back again.

In the two days since you agreed to James’ scheme, you’ve remained confident that it wouldn’t work, surely nobody would believe you went from best friends to being in a relationship overnight.

Your confidence was misplaced.

As the two of you walk closer to your usual spot at the Gryffindor table, your hand squeezes James’ tighter than you’d like to admit, painstakingly aware of just how many eyes are on you. You can hear the poorly concealed whisperings of each gossiping classmate you pass by, “Finally!” “See, I told you they were shagging.” “What does he see in her?” The latter may have stung just a bit.

“Alright?” James whispers close to your ear, fuelling another buzz of observations from your peers.

You nod your head perceptibly, a tad caught off guard from all the attention you’re receiving, “Yes, swell. You?”

“To be determined.” James tugs your hand gently, signalling you to stop walking as you’ve reached your destination at the Gryffindor table.

“Good morning.” You greet your friends with a smile in an effort to maintain normalcy. Taking your usual seat, Sirius is on your left and James sits to your right beside Remus. You promised James to keep the plan a secret from everyone, including your shared best friends, but with the way they’re looking at you now, you’re ready to spill your guts.

“Good morning? S’that it then?” Sirius starts incredulously, “The two of you leg it in here holding hands and we’re supposed to go about our day as normal?” 

“I think what he means to say,” Remus interjects, his tone soft, a welcome juxtaposition from Sirius’ brash one, “Is that this-” he gestures between you and James with a mild wave of his hand, “Is new. We hadn’t realized the two of you were… Romantically involved.” His statement ends as more of a question, a gentle probe to explain what’s going on.

You look to James, raising your brows questioningly as if to say you've created this plan, now you have to do the ground work.

He gets the message.

“It is a bit out of nowhere, isn’t it?” James smiles, not so subtly making eye contact with Lily, who’s sitting directly across the table, “We spent all these years as friends and never thought twice about it, um- But then…” He trails off, realizing he’s not half as good a liar as he’d hoped he was.

You close your eyes with a deep sigh, knowing it’s now your responsibility to make this believable.

James Potter and his bloody plans.

“It’s alright, James, love,” You speak up after he’s gone silent, “We can tell them.” He’s going to owe you for this, and you intend to cash in the favour for once, “I’ve fancied you as long as I’ve known you.”

Your friends are paying more attention to you now than they have to anything, ever, clinging onto your every word, “Bit embarrassing if I’m honest, cos’ you never really saw me that way.” 

You remember hearing once that the most believable lies stem from the truth, and though it was back in year one, and hardly went as deep as you’re leading on, this is a version of how you’d felt about James at one point in time.

You work hard to fight back a chuckle at the look of pity on Dorcas’s face as she takes in your words, “But, I guess after I finally stopped trying to get you to see me that way, that’s when you actually started to.” Now you’re just discussing the plan in plain sight, though your friends are drinking it up quicker than their pumpkin juice.

James squeezes your hand with a firm grip, as if to warn you not to say anything more and spoil his plan right in front of Lily.

But he’s also looking at you with a discernible note of gratitude in his eyes, never quite tiring of your knack for rescuing him in these situations.

“Yes, quite right, love, I’ve seen the light. Thank you all for tuning in, this concludes the interview portion of our breakfast. Now, over to Padfoot for the weather!” James voices deftly, eyes scanning Lily for any semblance of a negative reaction, and failing to hide his displeasure when all she offers in return is a bright smile and a soft “Congratulations, you two!”

That could’ve gone better.

“Figures the first time I’ve a date to one of these things, he’s only going for another girl.” You voice to James in the other room as you struggle to reach the zip on the back of your dress. 

You’re joking, though it’s not lost on you that this is the only time someone’s asked you to be their date to a dance. But you aren’t inclined to waste the opportunity. You’ve picked out a lovely dress and your hair is behaving particularly graciously tonight.

“Come on, love, I’m sure you’ll get plenty of offers once our plan takes off. And tonight’s the night! I’ve a good feeling about it.” Ever the optimist, your best friend.

“Oh, bugger off!” You shout frustratedly after multiple unsuccessful attempts at zipping up.

“I wasn’t trying to upset you! I only meant-” James’ panicked tone brings an instant smile to your face, all previous traces of dissatisfaction long gone.

“Not you, James, my dress. I can’t get the bloody zip to go up!”

“Oh,” He chuckles minutely, “Well c’mere then, let me help.” 

It’s a proper cliche, you think to yourself. Like something you’d see in a cheesy romance film, when the girl walks down the staircase in a fancy dress, everything’s suddenly in slow motion, and the lad’s just standing there thinking how am I just now realizing how beautiful she is?

It’s a proper bloody cliche, yet it’s exactly how you feel as you walk into the room and see James standing there in his dance attire.

His crisp white dress shirt is clinging faultlessly to his chest and arms, the muscles he’s defined playing quidditch showcasing themselves quite proudly, the black fabric of his dress pants pulled taught against his thighs. His mop of dark curls sits charmingly atop his head, a perpetual vision of captivating chaos. His rounded glasses are resting perfectly on the bridge of his nose, shimmering hazel eyes blinking delicately from behind them.

How are you just now realizing how beautiful he is?

“(y/n)?” James’ voice pulls you out of your reverie, and you’re thankful beyond words that he can’t hear your thoughts.

“Yes?” You clear your throat, simultaneously attempting to clear your mind.

“Turn around, love, I’ll fix your zip.”

Right.

His nimble fingers make quick work, sliding the zip from the small of your back to the top of the dress, a subtle trail of gooseflesh makes itself at home along the skin that’s been gently grazed by his own.

“There we are. Go on then, give us a twirl.” James’ playful voice sounds, you oblige good-naturedly and give a quick spin.

“That’s a lovely dress. Is it new?” His eyes scan your frame appreciatively, not quite as lengthy as the tour your own eyes had taken upon him moments ago, but you feel your chest grow tighter at the thought that, just maybe, he could be having one of those cliche moments too.

“As a matter of fact it is,” Your smile grows as you think back to the day before, when Dorcas dragged you and a reluctant Marlene to Diagon Alley to buy your outfits for the dance, “It’s her first dance with a date! Not just a date, a boyfriend. We have to pick the perfect dress.” She was far more excited than you were, especially considering it isn’t a real date, but her enthusiasm had made it a day to remember. “If Dorcas were here, you’d have just made her entire week.”

“Do you know what Lily’s wearing?” 

Not an unexpected question in the slightest.

What is unexpected, however, is the pang in your chest at it.

That’s new.

“No, I don’t. Sorry. ” You say, not particularly sorry at all.

“Are you alright?” James’ voice is laced with confusion at your sudden shift in mood.

Curse your best friend for knowing you so well.

“Mhm. Shall we go?” You place a smile back on your lips, taking care not to let it fall this time.

“After you, your majesty.” James answers in his most posh voice, gesturing toward the door and lowering his head in a mock bow.

It’s not real.

When you first agreed to James’ plan, this thought brought you comfort, peace, even. It’s not real, thank heavens, and it will be over before you know it.

Why does the thought feel so violent now?

Why is it tearing at the seams of your mind with each of his gentle touches and crooked smiles?

Why are you so reluctant to let go of James’ arm when you arrive at the dance?

And why have you spent the last twenty minutes sitting here, watching James watch Lily, as an unwelcome sense of envy blooms in your chest?

Because you wish it was real.

“Oh, come on! That was proper funny!” Sirius’s voice sounds from beside you, pulling you away from your internal revelations.

When did he get here?

“Was it?” You question. Your words come across sarcastic, but that’s a farce, you’ve no idea what he said.

“Yes, it was actually. You were just too busy making eyes at Prongs to notice.” 

And when did he get so observant?

“I was not.” You lie.

“Right,” Sirius starts, not believing you for a moment, “This is my life now, is it? My best mates’ll be too busy snogging to laugh at my jokes? What a cruel fate. Worse than death, really. Just put me out of my misery now.” He throws himself back into his chair melodramatically, posture now resembling a sickly figure in an old victorian painting.

What a drama queen.

Still, you feel the need to reassure him. Cutting off his theatrics, you place your hand on his bicep, giving a tender squeeze of affirmation, “Leave it out! I could never be too busy for you,” He straightens at that, lips lifting into a grin as you continue, “You just have to tell funnier jokes.” His grin disappears faster than it formed.

“Cheeky!”

You continue bantering back and forth, resulting in a fit of laughter that finally breaks James’ gaze from Lily. 

He focuses his attention on the two of you, unwilling to acknowledge the feeling blossoming in his chest when he sees your hand on Sirius, a brilliant smile having overtaken your face.

“Care to dance, love?” James questions, faster than you have time to process.

You remove your hand from Sirius’ arm, sparing a glance toward Lily. He’s trying to make her jealous, that’s why you’re here after all. But she’s not looking at you and James. In fact, she’s looking in another direction entirely.

“I’m alright mate, thanks. Take (y/n), though.” Sirius quips, ushering you onto your feet.

James guides you to the dance floor with a gentle hand on the small of your back, spinning you in a half circle to hold you properly once you’ve reached your destination.

Your heart is beating at an accelerated pace but you’re doing your damndest to hide it. “Is she looking?” You question softly, hiding any dejection from your voice.

“What’s that?” James asks.

You wonder how he didn’t hear you, his eyes having been glued to you since you started dancing. You were beginning to wonder if you had something on your face.

“Lily,” You start again, “Is she watching us?” You don’t know why you ask again, you’re not sure you want to know the answer.

“Oh. Yes-” James clears his throat, “Yeah, she’s looking.” 

Right.

His eyes never actually waver from your own. He doesn’t do much to pretend that he’s spotted her in the crowd or discerned wether she was looking or not. To be honest, he’d forgotten about the plan for a moment.

The song ends but before you can move from James’ hold he pulls you closer, “We should keep dancing.” He mumbles, then continues, almost as an afterthought, “Y’know, make it look more realistic.” 

But he couldn’t care less about that right now, he’s simply not ready for you to leave his arms.

It’s been six weeks since the plan started, an entire month and a half of pretending.

And you don’t think you can pretend any more.

Pretending to be James’ girlfriend isn’t the hard part. In fact, it’s the best part. Countless days of holding his hand in the Great Hall and resting your head upon his shoulder in the Gryffindor common room. Those moments are purely blissful.

Pretending that your feelings for James aren’t real? That’s the hard part.

In the beginning, James had started calling you love or darling for show, a way for you to appear more like a real couple. He must have grown accustomed to it, because they’re all he seems to use anymore, even when nobody else is around.

And your heart still skips a beat each and every time you hear it.

Somehow, it’s become routine for you to do your homework while watching his quidditch practices, despite the fact that Lily has only ever seen you there once. You tried explaining this but all James had said was “That’s alright, having you here helps me play better.”

Now you attend every practice.

You don’t know how to respond when your friends tell you how happy they are that you and James have gotten together, that they can tell how deeply you care for him. They’re right, partially anyway, you do care for James deeply.

But you’re not together. Not for real, anyway.

And it’s driving you mad.

Which is why you’ve decided that it has to end.

You’ve been thinking about this for weeks, ever since the night of the dance, when you realized you wanted more. But you weren’t sure what to tell James.

If you tell him the truth, that you’ve fallen for him, it could end your friendship, which is a chance you’re not willing to take. But you’ve also never been good at lying to him, he knows you far too well.

You’ve finally decided on a good old-fashioned half-truth.

You’re going to tell him that the plan hasn’t been working, that if he wants to get Lily’s attention he’ll have to go about it another way. Spending another year watching him pine over Lily won’t be easy, but it can’t be any harder than this; Seeing what a wonderful boyfriend James would be, being so close to the boy you want but never truly being able to have him.

The soft click of your door notifies you of James’ arrival. Taking a final deep breath, you find your eyes meeting his own, willing yourself not to get lost in them and lose your resolve.

“Hello, love. How was your day?” James questions earnestly, taking a seat in your desk chair, his eyes hold an undetectable glimmer of adoration as they take in your figure.

“I think we should break up!” You rush out at once, afraid if you wait another second you’ll chicken out again.

James’ eyebrows pull together in a wistful display of despondence, “What? Why?” His voice is rather melancholy and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was being broken up with for real. 

You sigh dispiritedly, taking a seat at the edge of your bed as you face James.

“Think about it. The plan isn’t exactly working, is it? I mean, when was the last time you even talked to Lily?” 

James is quick to defend, “We’ve just spoken yesterday! In the common room, remember? When you and Moony were talking about that smarty-pants book, she was all ‘your girlfriend’s too good for you, potter’, and I told her she was right. Surely you remember that?”

You fight back a smile at the memory, of course you remember that, you think of his words about as often as you breathe.

“James that was last week.”

He stops for a moment, counting the days on his fingers before deciding you're correct, “Okay… Alright, well, that doesn’t mean we should break up! We’ll just- We just have to try harder.”

You shake your head in opposition, but he speaks again before you have the chance.

“We can make it work, I know it.” James’ voice holds a perceptible air of desperation.

He knows you’re not really dating, right?

“Come on, James, it’s for the best. Surely you’re tired of me by now.” You joke, trying to appear unaffected by the nuance of your words.

“No.” James voices immediately, sounding as though he’s offended at the very idea of it, “I’m not tired of you. I could never be tired of you.”

“Have you any idea how much harder you’re making this?” You mumble under your breath, though it wasn’t quiet enough to go unheard by James.

He’s looking at you softly, almost tenderly and he lowers his voice a bit, no longer on edge, “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Try again.” James tilts his head, pushing his glasses up when they attempt to slide from the bridge of his nose.

“I just don’t think we should do it anymore, that’s all.”

“That’s all?” He knows very well that’s not all. He can tell by the way you’re avoiding eye contact that there’s more to it.

“Yep! So what do you say, friends?” You finally chance eye contact, holding your hand out to shake his own in an effort to regain control of the situation.

His hand grabs your own and holds it delicately.

“What aren’t you saying?”

“Nothing! I’m saying plenty of things. Loads of things. Things, things, things!”

“(y/n).” He states plainly, though he’s unable to hide the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, “If there’s something going on, you can tell me. We can tell each other anything.” He’s pleading with you now.

And you aren’t sure if it’s his words, or the way he speaks them, or the fact that his hand is still grasping your own, but you’re unable to keep the words from tumbling out of your mouth.

“I can’t keep pretending, alright? You’re driving me mad.” Both of your eyes widen at your confession, and James takes his hand back smoothly.

“Oh,” He clears his throat, a teasing undertone returning to his voice, though you can discern a hint of sadness in his eyes, “It’s you who’s tired of me then, innit?”

“What? No! That’s not-” You sigh frustratedly, standing from the bed and beginning to pace a small path back and forth on the floor, “James, if it were possible for me to be tired of you, it would’ve happened a long time ago.”

He breathes out a chuckle at this, visibly relaxing once he realizes he must’ve misunderstood.

You stop pacing, looking at James as he stands up in front of you.

“Can we start this whole thing over? It’s gotten a bit confusing if I’m honest.” You question.

“No, it’s okay. You were right, it’s best we call it off now.” James starts, adding quietly, “Before anyone gets hurt.”

Your gaze snaps up to his own, confusion etched upon your features, “Why- Why would anyone get hurt?” You swallow thickly, ignoring the sudden uptick of your pulse.

James sighs, bringing a hand up and running it through his curls, “Because it’s true. What you said before, about the plan not working. It’s not. And If I’m being honest, I couldn’t care less. I haven’t given a thought to the plan, or Lily, in weeks.” 

You know he can’t mean it the way it sounds, he can’t mean it the way you want him to mean it. But your heartbeat is racing rampant at the possibility that he does.

“And it’s why I don’t want to end things,” He continues, “Because, the way I see it, if something makes you sad when it’s ending, it must’ve been pretty wonderful while it was happening.” He’s rambling, but the contents of his words, and the fact that they’re directed at you, makes you want him to go on forever.

“You’re my best friend, and you always will be, I swear it! But, I just… I can’t help but want more.”

You’ve heard enough.

Well actually, you could never hear enough, but you’ve heard enough to propel yourself forward, urgently pressing your lips to James’ own.

He wasn’t expecting it, but he doesn’t waste a moment once he realizes what’s happening. 

James places his calloused hands on either of your cheeks, gently pulling you closer to himself. He smiles slightly into the kiss when you bring one of your own hands up to the nape of his neck and run your fingers softy through the curls there.

The kiss feels as though it’s lasted forever, and yet you never want it to end. But your lips part a fair distance as you rest your foreheads together in contentment, taking a moment to catch your breath.

“So that’s what you meant when you said I was driving you mad.” James teases, donning a grin so beautiful your heart could burst just from looking at it.

“Yes, I suppose it is.” You try to sound annoyed but you’re sure you’re missing the mark, wearing a blinding smile of your own.

“Well that settles it then,” James loops his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to his body, “No more pretending.” His delicate lips meet your own once more in another intoxicating embrace.

Note to self : James Fleamont Potter’s plans don’t always end in disaster.

[trsrina]

not-so secret admirer h. yujin

your friends think you have a secret admirer but little did they know, all those anonymously given gifts left on your desk every morning are from none other than your secret boyfriend.

written in second person pov, gn reader, fluff, established relationship, high school au, requested !! mentions of food

“ha! it’s here again! i told you it wouldn’t be a one-time thing,” a paper bag labelled with the logo of the bakery near your school sits there on your desk with a mini heart-shaped letter clipped to it.

it was still quite early in the morning as the clock ticks half-past seven, most desks empty with the exception of a few school bags messily littered on the floor.

you smile unknowingly upon being embraced with the warm gift.

“open it! open it! this is so sweet! this whole secret admirer thing is straight out of a kdrama,” your friend jumps up and down excitedly by your side as she waits for you to unveil the gift.

“okay, okay, calm down. why are you even more giddy about this than me?” you chuckle as you delicately take the letter and hold it close to your chest as you read it secretively.

“hey! let me see it too,” she tries to peek at the handwritten letter as you hold it closely to your heart, scanning through every messily written word on the thin piece of paper.

it wrote, ‘good morning. i got this for you on my way to school. please eat it while it’s hot. i hope you like it xoxo,’ signed off with the single letter ‘h’.

the letter was snatched away from your hands before you could properly process it and soon, your ears were attacked with a dolphin-like squeal.

“oh my god, you lucky bastard! you bagged a green flag,” your friend pretended to be jealous of you as she pout and softly hit your shoulder, returning the heartfelt letter to you as you unwrapped the paper bag to be met with the sweet aroma of the strawberry flavoured dessert, warmth still radiating from the pastry, fresh out of the oven.

“he’s just a secret admirer. i haven’t technically ‘bagged’ him or anything. i mean i probably don’t even know him,” you playfully bumped your shoulder against hers.

however, while your friend was too busy in her little world fantasising about all the possibilities of your love life, you knowingly grin to yourself and internally gushed over the boy who just so seems to be the culprit.

“han yujin, what has gotten into you?” you murmured to yourself and shook your head as the morning bell rings.

after an eternity of sitting through your morning classes, lunch started and so, you and your mini friend group gathered at the halls to get lunch together at the cafeteria.

it consisted of a few friends you’ve made last year in your old class, now all having been separated in the new school year.

said friend group also included han yujin, the very boy who you fell for last summer and has since been secretly dating throughout the summer.

upon making eye contact with him as you all walk up to each other, your other friend from another class enthusiastically skipping up to you to sling an arm around your shoulders, the both of you bashfully offer a small smile to each other and hide the pink hue decorating your cheeks, looking down and avoiding eye contact.

with the rest of you friends walking up ahead and chattering away, passionately rambling on about how boring classes were, yujin sneakily took the place by your side and walked right next to you.

“hey, did you like the little gift i left for you this morning?”

you softly beamed at him, trying your best to hold back the grin peeking on your face, “thank you, yujin. i really liked it but you really don’t have to do this every day.”

“hmm, i’ll think about it,” his eyes finally looked into yours, lovestruck and just so in love, you were surprised your friends didn’t notice you two making heart eyes at each other yet.

mesmerised by the way his gaze lingered on you, you drifted away from the conversations of your friends.

you both sneaked glances at each other, looking into each others’ eyes for a millisecond before looking away. your hands did the same too, swinging by your sides and gently bumping into each other, the back of your hands touching for a millisecond and then pulling away only to do the same once again.

your newly blossomed relationship didn’t start long ago so you were both still quite shy.

setting down your plates on your table, yujin speed-walked over to your side and raced your friend to sit on your left, they only side-eyed him and snickered as they sat on your right instead, letting him have his way with a snarky smile on his face.

as soon as everyone was seated and started digging in, you felt warmth enveloping your left hand that was placed in your lap, a larger hand interlocking their fingers with yours, the intertwined hands resting on your thigh.

you almost spit out your rice upon feeling yujin boldly taking your hand in his and immediately turn your head to look him in the eye.

your wide eyed gaze meets his smiling ones, innocently grinning at you and holding in his giggles.

calming yourself down, you turn back to your previously neglected plate and continue digging in.

however, your heart still beats at 100 km/h and the pumping in your chest distracts you from the conversation of your friends.

“why is your face so red? are you alright?”

the look on your face resembles that of a deer caught in headlights, eyes shot wide open as you face the concerned gazes of your friends.

“i’m fine! it’s just a little hot in here, you know. um, let me just go get a cold drink from the vending machine real quick, bye,”

you untangle your hand from yujin’s in a rush and your chair screeches as you push it back to stand up, and you speed walk out of the cafeteria.

“it’s 2°C?” your friend questioned as you left.

reaching the vending machines area, you let out a sigh and lean on the wall near the vending machine, hand resting on your heart to feel your pacing heartbeat.

“what is wrong with you,” you speak to yourself in the empty area as your head hangs low with the lights of the vending machine reflecting off of you.

hearing footsteps nearing the area, you immediately regained your composure and tensed up.

“hey. are you okay?” it was yujin.

“yujin? why are you here? go back before they get suspicious.” your words were cut off when yujin walked closer to you, the proximity taking your breath away.

“relax. don’t worry about them for now. it kills me that i can’t be close to you when i haven’t seen you for so long.”

“it has only been a few hours, yujin,” you chuckled as he pouted at you. his hands grabbing yours.

your head tilted up to face him and his tipped down to get closer to you, lips simply hovering over each others’. “but i still miss you,” he mumbled.

you felt the air from his mouth when he spoke hit your lips, reminding you of the close proximity between the both of you. and so, yujin made a move and leaned in, eyes closed, your eyes closing too in response.

you could feel the warmth from his face transport to yours, his hand creeping up your arm to hold your chin, thumb gently grazing your flushed cheeks, you both leaned in closer and- clack!

your heads swiftly turned to the source of the sound, snapped out of your trance, only to be met with the surprised look of your friends, eyes wide open and jaws dropped, speechless at the sight of two of their friends having such an intimate moment.

the sound came from your friend dropping her belongings on the floor due to the shock and honestly, you could not blame her nor the rest of your friends for the dramatic reaction.

you and yujin exchanged awkward glances after taking a look at your frozen friends, yujin nodded his head at you as if giving you approval.

“um, well, surprise?”

i am so so sorry this took so long to write i hope you like it and this is my first work after my very long hiatus so hopefully my writing didn’t get too bad 😨

[horrorhot-line]

eunoia

(n.) beautiful thinking; a well mind.

➵ pairing: saiki kusuo/reader

➵ word count: 4.8k

➵ genre: slight angst? fluff

➵ warnings: none

➵ summary: teruhashi and mikoto swap looks and all it does is annoy saiki, he asks you for help once again. alternatively, teruhashi and mikoto compete to figure out saiki’s type, you try not to get involved but get dragged into things anyway.

➵ masterlist  (requests are open)

➵previous post -  rame

I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING POSTED BY ANYONE ELSE ON ANY PLATFORM

before you read:

‘saiki telepathically communicating with reader’ ‘reader thinking or interacting with saiki through thoughts.’ “saiki talking without moving his mouth.” “saiki talking using his mouth.”

notes: this was a request, found here, finally i’ve managed to update the series and i hope you all like the newest rendition. this one’s based off of season 2 episode 17. enjoy!!!

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Sitting across from Kokomi, you took down notes from her book. You had asked her beforehand for help since you didn't understand the class material. Of course, like the 'angel' she was, she didn't refuse. After grabbing a chair from another desk, you had parked yourself in front of her. Though, it proved hard to focus when everyone around you gushed about her perfect she was.

You leaned back in place, picking up Kokomi's notebook to take a closer look at it, squinting your eyes at it. Almost as if the action itself would help it magically make sense. The words written on the pages were elegant- even her handwriting was perfect. You sighed, yet again realising that if anyone ended up with Saiki- it would be her.

'Stop thinking useless things.' You nearly jumped in surprise. Would you ever get used to him randomly talking to you telepathically? Probably not. You furrowed your eyebrows and closed your eyes in slight frustration. 'I swear I told you to stop that.' You thought back at Saiki, recognising his voice in your head.

You shoved down the thought of how nice he sounded, regardless of whether he talked to you with his mouth or not. 'Stop what?' He retorted. You were grateful Teruhashi was too busy feeling proud of the attention she was getting from the guys in the class to pay attention to your expressions. 'Checking into my thoughts like I'm some radio station.' You huffed mentally.

'I can't help hearing you.' You exhaled through your nose, slumping in your seat. You knew he was right, but still! He didn't have to reply to you- he could ignore it. 'It's not like I'm wrong, she's perfec-' He cut off your thought before you could continue. 'Don't care.' Typical Saiki, always having to be in the right. 'Why not?'

'Because I don't... besides, she's not my type.' That made you raise an eyebrow to yourself. You looked over your shoulder to Saiki, still sitting at his desk, before you turned around to face in front of you. 'Why not?' You hoped you didn't sound too curious, aiming for indifference. It didn't work. 'She's not my type,' He reiterated.

That made you wonder, who was then? You shook your head, going back to pretending you were paying attention to Teruhashi's notebook- or trying to, at least. It was none of your business, to begin with, so it's not like you'd pry. Part of you didn't want to know so you wouldn't go around unconsciously changing your appearance.

What good would it do finding out anyway? It's not like you would fit his expectations. Knowing him meant being aware of the fact that he didn't have a single bone for romance in his body. That didn't stop the pang of pain you felt in your gut. You chose to halt your thought process before you got upset. There was no point souring your mood over something like that.

You would've started focusing on the school work you had left had it not been for Mikoto calling out Saiki's name. "Kusuo!" Turned out, you weren't the only one paying attention- Teruhashi had whipped her head to look in their direction. If you hadn't moved back in time, her perfect hair would have slapped you in the face.

"Let's go get cake later!" Mikoto announced, and you ignored the bitter taste in your mouth. Was this feeling... jealousy? No way. It was, but it's not like you would admit it to yourself. You watched Teruhashi's expression darken, and you moved back. She had a piece of her hair in her mouth, and she ground her teeth in anger. She looked creepy, and you had no intention of setting her off, even by accident. She was giving off Sadako (girl from the ring) vibes. You shivered involuntarily.

You didn’t need the power of mind reading to know what she was thinking. ‘Acting so friendly with Saiki, darn that b!tch!’

You said nothing when Teruhashi got up abruptly and excused herself to you, knowing full well she was going after Mikoto and the psychic. Saiki was popular- he had two of the prettiest girls in the school chasing after him. You exhaled deeply, shaking your head to yourself.

So much for not putting yourself in a sour mood. You quietly returned to your desk, deciding to sleep the rest of the day away instead. Education be damned.

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Your jaw dropped to the floor when you came to school the next day, only to find Teruhashi had copied Mikoto's style. The rest of the guys in the classroom shared your sentiment. "Oh, my!" and "No way!!" was all they could muster. One of them asked what had happened to her directly. "A makeover," She answered, a faint blush lining her cheeks. You cringed.

The boys in the class ogled at her telling her how great she looked. Personally, you thought the change didn't suit her, but to each their own. Did miss perfect think the fortune teller in question was Saiki's type? Oh, dear lord.

You were sat across Saiki this time when she showed up to school. 'What is she doing?' Saiki thought at you, and you replied, still staring at Teruhashi- dumbfounded. 'I think you already know.' He deadpanned, sighing at her behaviour. 'She thinks I'm going to gasp.' 

‘Who knows, maybe you will.’ You teased, only for him to turn to you with his face void of emotion. ‘Stop it.’ You wanted to snort because Saiki would do that when pigs fly. Disclaimer: never gonna happen. Not on your watch. 'Fat chance.' Knowing him, he'd just sigh at her behaviour. She had the wrong idea about the pink-haired boy, that was for sure.

You hadn't noticed Mikoto standing behind you until Saiki raised his head to look at her, and she spoke. "Wah! Terukoko, that look fits you!" She complimented, before presenting herself to Saiki. 'And this one, what has she done?' You raised your head back to look at her before you rushed to turn around in your chair when you caught a glimpse of her. 'Oh, no...' You thought back at Saiki. 'Oh, no indeed, good grief.' What a disaster.

She had straightened her hair and dyed it brown- though her iconic clip remained. Her jewellery and acrylic nails were nowhere to be seen. "What do you think? I'm mainstream, now," Mikoto questioned. Had the two- had they switched their looks for the day? Of course, they had. But why? Ah, it was because they were trying to be Saiki's type, each one confusing something fundamental. The boy didn't have one- a type. 

He did, but what you weren’t aware of that.

Not waiting for an answer from Saiki, she turned to Teruhashi, going back to gushing over her with a smile. "Terukoko, you looked really cute, so I tried a more conventional look like yours." At least she was honest, you had to commend her for that. 'Terukoko?' Saiki commented, questioning the nickname. You were too shell shocked to reply.

"It's a wig, though," Mikoto clarified, and you sighed in relief. She hadn't done any permanent damage. 'What are they trading looks for?' Of course, he didn't know- the boy was dense as a rock. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Exactly what I said. It means you can't even tell when they change their styles to impress you.' You shot back. You felt Teruhashi staring at the two of you, but refused to look her way- in fear of incurring the anger of a jealous high school girl in love. 'Great, now Teruhashi thinks I like girls for their boobs.'

You turned to look back at him, your back hurting from twisting to observe Mikoto. 'Why would she think that?' You questioned Saiki. He sighed, lowering his head. 'That's the difference between the two.' You brought your hand up to cover your mouth. He wasn't wrong, Teruhashi's chest was small compared to the fortune teller. A cup vs Double Ds.

It was clear the psychic had had enough of the whole fiasco. Mikoto left after Saiki told her off, apologising as she did. You exhaled. Something about the two of them switching styles to catch Saiki's attention didn't sit well with you. You ignored the feeling, refusing to dwell on it further. Instead, you focused on Saiki. A mistake, if you were being honest.

The moment you got lost in admiring his features, the world faded away. A horrible sign, because it meant this boy had a hold on you and he wouldn't do a damn thing about it. You wanted to reach out and touch his hair, it looked soft to the touch and you wanted to feel it. To feel him. You restrained yourself, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

Saiki would let you touch his hair if you asked, but you didn't- so it's not like he'd offer himself. You didn't need to know that, though.

His lips looked soft too, they were light pink, a few shades dimmer compared to his hair. When the thought of kissing him crossed your mind, you clenched your jaw. No. You would never go there, you wouldn't allow yourself to even imagine it.

He was your friend for god's sake! You had to keep yourself in line. Lest you destroy the relationship you had with him. When his eyes met yours, stoic and devoid of emotion, you felt your heart stop. The butterflies erupted in your stomach and you cursed at yourself for letting something that simple get to you.

You didn't even realise he was calling, your mind hadn't even registered his lips moving, calling out your name. Only when he softly touched your hand, the one on his desk did you snap out of it. You flushed red- the colour, you were sure had enveloped your entire being.

"Y/n. Pay attention. You'll fail the upcoming mock test otherwise." No witty response came from you, too dazed to fire back. "Ye-yeah." You said meekly, failing to notice the look of slight worry Saiki shot at you. The feeling of his fingers on the back of your hand, made the tips of your ears burn. You tried not to think about how nice his touch felt. 

His hands were warm. He was warm.

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You decided by the end of the school day that you weren't going to get involved with the non-existent love triangle Mikoto and Teruhashi were convinced existed. You made quick work of packing your bags, noting how Saiki had come to the same conclusion as you, excluding himself from the situation.

Saiki had gone to the toilet right before the last period concluded, his typical escape route when he wanted to avoid people. Truth be told, you were surprised that neither female had followed him.

Before you had the chance to put your pencil case away, the girls in question had walked up to your desk. You reluctantly looked up, your hand in your bag as you shot them a tense smile. You had spoken too soon. Looked like not getting involved wouldn't be an option.

Mikoto brushed her wig behind her shoulder before folding her arms in front of her chest. You tried not to pay attention to the way her boobs looked bigger because of the action, looking at the desk next to you as if it was interesting.

'Y/n, don't say a word. Walk away.' Saiki's voice reverberated inside your skull.

You tried to control your expression of surprise, had you not done so, your eyebrows would've disappeared past your hairline. Trying not to think about how much you missed his honey-like voice, you zipped up your bag quietly.

Traitor. If he was going to escape, knowing what was to come, he should've taken you with him. A fair warning, at least, would've been nice. You didn't have the braincells for this. The remaining three just screamed 'Hungry, angry, hangry!'

"Need something?" You asked absent-mindedly as you checked the time on your phone. "What's Saiki's type?" You sighed inwardly. Of course, Mikoto would be direct. Your eyes met Teruhashi's, who immediately looked away as if she was embarrassed. No surprise there, she would never ask, lest she gives away the name of her 'secret' crush.

'Don't say anything, Y/n. I'm warning you.' Saiki affirmed, and you groaned internally. 'I got it, I got it. Wasn't planning on it anyways, I don't know your type to begin wit- wait, are you still in the bathroom?'

Silence passed for a few seconds before he said something again. '...Yes.' The corners of your mouth twitched. You stopped yourself from laughing, the idea of Saiki squatting on a closed toilet bowl trying to talk to you flashed through your head. 'I'm not squatting. Good grief. Just get rid of them.'

You rolled your eyes mentally, before looking at Mikoto, who was still waiting for your response. "You're asking the wrong person- I don't know." You hoped that would get them to leave you alone. You didn't even get the chance to grab your school bag before she spoke up again. "How could you not? You're close with him!" You sighed, audibly this time.

"So, what? Doesn't mean I have an answer to your question." Forget being polite, you did not have the mental capacity for a conversation like that today. You turned to leave the classroom only to find Mikoto was still following you, Teruhashi on her heels. "Wai- Wait up! Stop trying to keep him to yourself, Y/n! I got a right to know." Her voice still as cheery as always.

That pissed you off. Keep him- to yourself? What a joke. You had no intention of making a move on Saiki. You turned around abruptly, stopping her in her tracks. "I am not. He's my friend, and I have no interest in the guy. Do you get that? F-R-I-E-N-D-S. I don't know his type, he's never told me or shown a liking for the female gender for that matter." You clenched your jaw.

Did they have any idea how much it hurt watching them try so hard for him? Knowing you could never act as freely as they did? Watching them chase after him any chance they got? You didn't mind their feelings for him- after all, it wasn't your place to decide who could go after him and who couldn't. That didn't mean you wouldn't feel jealous of it, though. ‘F^ck this.’

"Why don't you ask him, yourself?" You huffed before you turned on your heel. You half-heartedly accepted the sorry Mikoto shot your way, waving your hand before you walked down the hallway to the stairs that would get you out of the stupid school building. 

When Saiki teleported from the bathroom to the shoe lockers near the exit, joining you in walking home, you stayed silent.

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The next day wasn't any better. Mikoto showed up with the same wig from the day before, and glasses this time. You assumed she hadn't taken your advice and asked him. When Teruhashi entered the classroom, you sighed for the 1000th time that week.

Teruhashi had dyed her hair blonde and had a bow resting in it. Not to mention the fact that it was curled just like Mikoto's. 'It gets worse,' you thought to yourself, shaking your head. Like clockwork, the boys in the class crowded around her, telling her how cute she looked. Some wondered why she had changed. What was she? Some kind of zoo animal?

"Te-Teruhashi, what did you do?" One of them asked. 'She really did it,' Saiki thought at you, and you glanced to your left to observe him. His glasses hid his eyes, but you knew he wasn't pleased. Teruhashi put her hand up next to her eyes like Mikoto would and answered the boy, "I just felt like it." Like hell she did. "So edgy!" The boy who had queried, exclaimed. 'A personality makeover, too?'

Teruhashi passed in front of your desk, heading to Saiki's. You would have bet money that she was trying to get him to gasp. "Good morning, Saiki." When Saiki nodded at her, acknowledging her existence, she turned her head 180°, like some owl. She was clearly shocked he hadn't reacted.

'What's wrong with her brain?' Saiki questioned, and you answered, of course. 'It's because she went to so much effort for you.' The two of you watched as the girl in question ran out of the classroom.

'She's still fixated on boobs?' You snickered quietly to yourself at Saiki's comment. 'Good grief, I don't want her to fall deeper into this,' He stated before he turned to you, 'If she asks for love advice from you, tell her to go back to her normal self.'

'Before I agree, I have to tell you something.' You thought back at him, before completely clearing your mind. A skill you developed, knowing how to stop the psychic from seeing it coming. 'What is it?' There was a pause, you continued to look in front of you. 'You should never fart in an apple store.' You heard him audibly sigh, '...Why?' You tried not to laugh. 'Because they don't have windows.'

'I will kill you.'

'No, you won't.'

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Truth be told, you weren't sure why the school turned to you for advice on relationships when they had Mikoto to just point them in the direction of their soulmate. It was a good revenue to make money though, nothing in this world came for free, after all. That's how you found yourself sitting across from Mikoto, a 100 yen coin in her hand. She had decided to turn to you the right way this time. With money.

"I need advice." She claimed, and you nodded looking around the empty classroom. Mostly empty, since Saiki was still there, just existing. You were next to the seats near the lockers since everyone else had left to go on their break and the chairs were free. "I know." You rubbed your temple, ignoring the headache that emerged.

Trying not to pay attention to the dull pain behind your right eye socket, you gestured with your hand for her to continue before folding your arms in front of your chest. "I changed my style to fit Teruhashi's looks and it's not working, I don't understand what I have to do to get his attention."

When you stayed silent, she continued, and you pretended her talking about Saiki didn't affect you. Nope. Not one bit... Okay, maybe it did a little. Your job as the designated love guru came first, though. You needed the 100 yen to buy coffee jelly for Saiki. "I'm gonna be honest with you. You're my rival." That caught you off guard, and you furrowed your eyebrows at her.

"Heh, why?" You questioned, not understanding what she meant. Why would you be her love rival when you had no intention of acting on the stupid crush you had? She sighed, looking out the window of the classroom. "I looked into your fortune like I did with Saiki. I just want you to know I'm not going to stop competing with you." Mikoto turned back to look at you, and you were left even more confused.

Your head reeled. What the hell was she on about? You liked Mikoto, she was nice, and headstrong, not taking shit from anyone, but she was cryptic. Something you didn't enjoy much, since she spoke in riddles at times. Like now. "Why would you compete-" You didn't get a chance to finish as Mikoto cut you off. "You're his absolute future, his absolute soulma-"

Teruhashi walked in before she could finish, and you coughed into your hand and moved back in your seat, pretending you hadn't been at the edge of it. She still had Mikoto's style, and you had to say, it was growing on you. You wouldn't lie, she was still pretty. She took a chair and placed it beside Mikoto.

"I need your advice." Of course, she did as well. You dragged your hands down your face, already done with the day. You weren't a fan of talking about love with them when you knew that they were trying to pine for Saiki. Regardless, you'd give it, because the boy in question had asked you to.

"Payment first, both of you." When they gave it to you, you put the 200 yen on your side of the desk before you looked at them expectantly. "The guy I like doesn't care no matter how much I change myself for him." Teruhashi piped up first, and Mikoto agreed with her, saying she had the same issue.

You leaned back in your chair and it creaked slightly due to the shift in weight. "The issue isn't whether he cares or not. Ask yourselves this, why are you changing into someone that isn't true to yourself? Why do that for a guy? There isn't any point in it, because if he doesn't like you for you, then what use is he to you?"

Both of them looked at each other before turning to you. "So, what are you saying? Give up on him?" Mikoto spoke first this time, and Teruhashi agreed. You sighed, they still didn't get it. "No- I'm saying go back to your original styles, then try again. Copying each other won't help you." When they stayed silent, thinking on your words, you knew your work was done. With that, you took the 200 yen and returned to your desk next to Saiki.

The day after, the both of them had returned to normal and you sighed with relief.

'You owe me.'

'I know.'

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

bonus: 

"I need your help, again." Of course, Saiki did. It was a regular occurrence. Whenever he didn't want to be bothered, he'd use you as some sort of human shield against 'nuisances', i.e, his friends. Now it was your turn to deadpan at the pink-haired boy.

You raised your eyebrows to mock him, your eyelids lowered as you nodded your head with a knowing look. "What is it this time?" As your eyes trailed from his to stare at the hand on your arm, a feeling of deja vu washed over you. This situation was eerily similar to when Saiki had asked you to third wheel when he didn't want to hang out with Teruhashi alone. "Mikoto wants to get cake with me after school."

The only difference this time was that it was break time and he had caught you on the roof of the school. You tried not to think how pretty he looked with the sunlight bathing him in its glow. You ran a hand through your hair, "I can't refuse, Can I?" You turned from looking at the school field to Saiki. When your eyes met the place he was holding you, he didn't let go.

"It wasn't a question." He stated bluntly. You let out a huff of amusement, of course, it wasn't. The same predicament as the last time this had happened came up, to help or to not help. You could try ducking under him to escape, but you knew it wouldn't work. As much as you didn't want to roll over and let Saiki have his way, you knew you'd let it happen.

Then, making him work for it, wouldn't hurt right? "I don't think so. I'm not helping." Despite Saiki's expression not changing, the twitch of his eyebrow told you he was peeved. "You're coming with me." You huffed in annoyance. Always so damn stubborn. "Why don't you just go with her? You love sweet stuff." You tried not to pay attention to how his touch was doing things to your heart. You felt the breeze of the afternoon on your skin, thankful for it since it helped cool you down.

Saiki had yet to break eye contact with you, and you didn't like the feeling of your insides being squeezed, not one bit. You broke the stare first. "Because it's bothersome." You looked at him incredulously, why was it your job to help him, just because he thought of it as a chore?

"You already owe me, Kusuo." You stated.

"I know." He replied almost immediately.

"I will come to collect a favour." You confirmed.

"I know." He shot back.

You sighed, "Fine! I'll come with- see you after class." You agreed as much as you didn't want to. Seeing Mikoto try to get Saiki to like her didn't sound appealing in the slightest. You expected him to leave, he had gotten what he came for.

To your surprise, he stayed put. "...What?" You asked, unsure what he wanted. "I'm waiting for you. Class is about to start and we're going to be late." You gave him a soft smile at that. The small act of consideration was enough to remind you that this boy owned your heart. Out of all the people in the world, Saiki Kusuo just had to be the one you fell for. When you didn't move, too lost in your thoughts, he spoke.

"For your first favour, I'll let you touch my hair. Once." You nearly choked on the spit in your mouth, did you hear him right??? When you stayed silent, too shocked to say a word, Saiki elaborated, "You were thinking about it two days ago." You flushed with embarrassment. He had heard you?!

Of course, he had- he had telepathy after all. Curse you for letting your thoughts run wild in a 200-metre radius of him. You wanted to combust, praying to any higher power to just let the ground beneath you swallow you up. Anything would be better than having to be in this situation.

"Stop reading my mind, will you?" You said meekly, hoping that was all he heard. "I can't help it when you're that loud. Now hurry up before I change my mind." You forced your mind to not go at a hundred miles per hour. No such luck. Act cool, Y/n, please. You begged internally.

You moved closer to him, trying not to pay attention to his eyes following your every move. Why did this man have to make you so nervous? You could feel your face burning, and when he finally let go of your arm, you reached forward. You tentatively placed your fingers over his pink locks, exhaling nervously.

The moment your hand came into contact with his hair, your mind went blank. Why did it all feel so natural to you? You were surprised at how soft his hair was, it was like a fluffy carpet, the ones you'd draw designs into just because of how nice it felt on your hands. You let your fingers move to feel more, experimentally.

Saiki's expression had yet to change, the only thing that did was the fact that he was no longer looking at you, staring off to the side. You licked your lips, letting yourself enjoy the moment, knowing you'd never get a chance like this again. You would.

'Why does it feel so soft? What conditioner does he use?'

You sighed in contentment, absentmindedly running your hands through his pink hair as you thought back to when Mikoto and Teruhashi had cornered you to try and find out Saiki's type. What was his type? Did he even have one? If you had to guess, you'd reckon it was someone who loved themselves.

You had a feeling that Saiki didn't like those who tried too hard or who changed just for him. That much was obvious from how he reacted to the two girl's switching styles. So, someone who remained true to themselves, no matter what? That had to be it. 

“Oh, Wow.”

You froze, what f^ck was that? You looked to Saiki, questioning if you had misheard him. It was his voice, but there was no way the robot of a human was capable of saying those two words. The only thing that changed was that his hand now covered his mouth. You watched him, and when he refused to meet your gaze, you became suspicious.

"Kusuo...?" Your words trailed off when you noticed his ears, moving your hand to the side to take a better look. Were they... were they pink? Compared to his normal ivory skin, they looked flushed. Again, what the f^ck?

When you realised the same colour was creeping up to his neck from the collar of his school shirt, you wondered if you were hallucinating. Then, like it had been a trick of the light, it disappeared. He turned to you, finally looking you in the eyes. "What?" He tried to act nonchalant, but you saw through it. If you weren't so shocked you would have teased him.

You knew it! You had heard right! You had managed to do what even Teruhashi couldn't after months of effort. You had gotten the boy to say, "Oh, wow!" You were never going to forget this, mentally patting yourself on the back. You didn't care this time when your ears burnt as if they were on fire.

With one final rub to his hair, you retracted your hand. You wanted to say it. Right then and there. 'I like you. I've liked you since the moment we met, I don't know how it happened but I like you, you idiot.'

You stayed silent, swallowing your words, and biting your tongue. "Your hair is soft." Was all that you could muster. Saiki sighed, "Good grief. Now that you're done, we need to go. We're going to be late if we don't leave, Now." When he turned and started to speed walk, you shouted, "Wait up, Kusuo." Before following him.

The smile on your face didn't leave, not once.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵       ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

next part - kilig

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[ramblingoak]

To Borrow A Rat

Mushy May in Lucifer's Hollow: Day 5 - Animals

Terzo x Omega

This fic is set in an alternate universe in a town called Lucifer's Hollow. For Mushy May I'll be using the prompts to post little snippets of life for the humans and ghouls that live there 💙 Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together!

~ Terzo is the mayor of Lucifer's Hollow and Omega recently moved there to open a vet clinic, Paws and Claws ~

Warnings: cuteness (i hope) and fluff, sfw, 1,700 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!)

“I need to borrow one of your rats.”

Terzo ignored the bewildered look Copia gave him and went right for the cage against the office wall.  Three pairs of eyes peered at him curiously, unsure of what to make of the person now attempting to open their cage.  

“Get your hands off of that, idiota!” 

“Ai!  Just for a little while!”  When Copia swatted at the back of his head Terzo spun around with a hiss,  “I will bring it right back.”

“You’re not borrowing a rat.”  Copia managed to get between his brother and the cage.  Two sets of mismatched eyes glared at each other until eventually Terzo flounced away, going over to the couch along the opposite wall and flinging himself onto it.  “Terzo, why do you want to borrow a rat?”

“Well, you see,”  Terzo sat there opening and closing his mouth while he seemed to debate on what to say to his brother.  “Ok.  The thing is…”

“Just spit it out, I am busy!”

“I met someone.”

“Oh Lucifer’s balls here we go.”

“Hey!  You asked and I am telling!”

“I should’ve guessed.”  Copia walked back over to his desk and sat down, grabbing the book he had been reading before Terzo barged in.  “You cannot borrow one of my rats.  Especially for whatever the fuck you were planning.”

“Aren’t you curious?”

“No, no I am the opposite of curious.  Please stop talking.”

“His name is Omega.”

“The veterinarian?”  Terzo nodded enthusiastically but when he started to speak again Copia waved him off.  “No.  That’s a horrible plan.”

“You haven’t even let me tell you the plan!”

“You want to borrow one of my perfectly healthy rats, pretend it’s sick and then take it to the vet to waste Omega’s time all under the pretense of trying to get a date with him.”

“What the fuck.”

“Please leave poor Omega alone, you’re gonna run him out of town before he’s even settled in.”

“Fratellino.”  Terzo got up from the couch, wandering over to Copia with his hands clasped together.  “Copia, per favore.  I uh, I like him.”

“Then talk to him like a normal person.”

“Where?  How?  I never run into him even in this tiny fucking town.”

“Then how do you know that you like him?”

“I have a feel—“  When Copia groaned, Terzo reached forward and grabbed the book out of his hands, smacking him over the head with it.  “Fucking listen you stronzino!  I have a feeling, ok?  I met him at the ribbon cutting for his clinic and there was something there.  I swear to you.”

“Ok!  Ok, I get it.”  Copia lowered his head into his hands, rubbing at his face violently before looking back up at Terzo.  “Why can’t you just go there and talk to him?” 

“I can’t do that.”

“Terzo, you are the mayor.  This is your town, sì?  You could do anything.”

“SÌ, like borrowing a rat because my plan is better.”

“No.”

“You have three rats you can loan me one for a few fucking hours!”

“Get out before I have Aether drag you out.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“Alright, fine.  But I’ll call Secondo and he will.”  

Another stare off began but as soon as Copia reached for his cell phone Terzo growled and stalked towards the door.  A vicious string of Italian trailed behind his brother until Copia heard the front door slam shut.    

Omega checked his clipboard quickly before quickly heading into the exam room.

“Alright I hear we have a rat not feeling the be–oh.  Hello.”

“Ciao.”  The mayor of Lucifer’s Hollow fidgeted in place before gesturing towards the white rat sitting on the table.  “This is my rat and he is ah.  Sick.”

“I didn’t know you had rats too.”

“Oh sì, me and Copia.”  Terzo reached out as if to pet the animal but then quickly pulled his hand away.  “We are rat…fans.”

“They’re a good choice, they make amazing pets.”  

Omega smiled at the man while he moved closer.  He had not expected to see him again, not since the somewhat disastrous ribbon cutting for the opening of his clinic, Paws and Claws.  Disastrous since Omega could not stop himself from staring at Terzo openly.  There had even been a horrific moment when he couldn’t help himself and had leaned in close to smell him.  Honestly the whole event was embarrassing and he had done nothing but kick himself since.

“He is an amazing little uh, thing.”

“What’s his name?”  

Omega glanced up from the information sheet after noticing Terzo had left that part blank.  The man stared at him blankly for a handful of seconds, seemingly at a loss for words.  Terzo looked down at the rat which was busy cleaning itself, its little hands rubbing across its head. 

“Il suo nome?”  Omega nodded when Terzo looked back to him, mismatched eyes meeting his purple ones.  “Bello.”

“Bello?  I like that, is it Italian?”  Terzo pressed his lips together, nodding his head quickly.  “Well it’s nice.  He looks just like Copia’s rat, Brizio.  Are they from the same litter?”

He only got a few nods in return and man, this was awkward as hell.  Omega suppressed a sigh as he moved closer to the exam table, his hands reaching out towards the small animal.  It was pretty clear Terzo had zero interest in him, the man could barely look him in the eyes.  All the silly fantasies Omega had created since meeting him dissipated and he was left with the almost overwhelming feeling that had made him leave his previous home and move here in the first place.

The overwhelming feeling of being alone.

Omega cleared his throat as he let Bello sniff at his hands.  He felt a little nibble on one of his claws and he couldn’t help but laugh, this one was definitely related to Brizio.  Copia’s rat had done the same thing.  

“You are very good with animals.”

Terzo’s voice startled him, the accented voice sounding much warmer than it had a moment ago.  He looked up to see Terzo staring at him, something unreadable on his face.

“It helps being a quintessence ghoul, probably cheating even.  Since I can help keep them calm.”  Omega picked up Bello when the rat climbed onto his hand, bringing him a bit closer to look him over.  “You said he was sneezing?”

“Who?”  Terzo blinked a few times before shaking his head,  “Oh Bello, sì.  Lots of sneezing.”

A phone ringing cut through the air and Terzo cursed under his breath before shoving his hand in his jacket pocket.  He took a quick glance at the screen before declining the call and putting it away.

“Is it possible he got something in his nose?  His breathing sounds fine.”  

The phone rang again and while he held his stethoscope to Bello’s side Terzo turned away to answer the call.  Omega tried not to eavesdrop but it was clear whoever was on the other end was angry although he couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“I am busy!”  Terzo ended the call while he turned around, wincing when he saw Omega staring at him.  “Mi dispiace.”

“It’s ok, I can’t even imagine how busy you probably are.”

“Not busy enough to come see you.”  Omega nearly dropped the rat at Terzo’s words.  He felt his cheeks pink up, a look that Terzo started to mirror before he held his hands up.  “With my rat!  See you with my rat.  Since you are the rat…doctor.”

Damn.

“Yeah that’s me.  The rat doctor.”  He knew he was doing a terrible job hiding his disappointment but he couldn’t help it.  With a sigh he set Bello down and took a few steps back from the table to lean against the door.  “He’s perfectly healthy so no need to worry.”

“Oh well, bene!  Good.”  Terzo reached out for the rat, hesitating briefly before awkwardly picking it up.  “I suppose that’s it then.”

“Yep.  But if you hear anything else feel free to ca–shit!”

The door opened up behind him causing Omega to stumble back into the hallway.  He ended up falling against whoever had opened it and the two barely stayed upright.  Omega could feel the irritation coming off of whoever it was in waves and when he finally straightened up he found himself staring into a different set of odd colored eyes.

“Terzo!  Sei uno stupido stronzo, where is he?!”

Omega watched as the two men both let loose a string of Italian at each other, vicious sounding words that had him flinching.  He felt like an intruder, although this was his damn clinic, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave.  It wasn’t until a gentle hand on his shoulder startled him that he managed to look away.

“Sorry about this.”  Aether wandered by and went into the room to collect the rat before coming back out to stand with Omega.  “Copia insisted on coming to get Brizio.”

“Brizio?”  Omega looked down at the rat in confusion before looking into the room at the arguing brothers.  “I thought this was Bello.”

His friend let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head as he looked back into the room as well.

“Copia does tell him he’s handsome a lot but no.  This is Brizio.”

Unholy hell this was confusing.  Omega kept glancing between the rat and Terzo, trying to put everything together.  The brothers were still only using Italian but when Omega finally caught Terzo’s eyes the man’s face flushed before he looked back at Copia.  Wait…

“Bello means handsome?”  

Aether nodded, a knowing smirk on his face.  Omega found himself unable to bite back a smile, even after digging his fangs into his bottom lip.  He checked the time on his watch before scribbling his number on a corner of the exam form and tearing it off to hand to Aether.

“What’s this?”

Omega ignored Aether for a moment, looking back at Terzo with a grin.  He winked at the man, pleased beyond belief when Terzo’s mouth fell open in surprise.  After a few seconds of eye contact Omega turned back to Aether, slapping his friend on the shoulder before going to another exam room and his next appointment.

“Tell Terzo I do house calls.”

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More fics in the Tales From Lucifer's Hollow masterpost

[grxmreaperx]

Mark Hoffman cockwarming kink while he's working 👀 ft. Reader squirming on his lap then him slowly giving in

I've gotten quite a few requests for a cockwarming kink with our favorite detective, so I am here to provide!! Might write another fic with this kink at some point, kind of unsure about how this one turned out and I wanna do it justice!

Pairing: Mark Hoffman x reader

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: 18+!! Porn with no plot. Teasing, cockwarming, p in v penetration.

Summary: You and Mark have secretly been seeing each other for a while now. One day, when you try and tease him, he makes you work for what you really want.

“What the fuck was that?”

You looked up from your papers, smirking as Mark stormed into the workshop. “What was what?”

“You know what you were doing.”

You pretended to think for a minute. “Oh! What, me putting my hand on your leg?”

He shook his head, scoffing at you. “Don’t act like that’s all you did.”

You and Mark had been seeing each other for a little while now. You were both appointed by John to help him with his plans and, when the tension had become too much, you had both given in. However, you had agreed to keep your relationship a secret from John, and by extension, Amanda. You knew he would be upset, probably believing that it would interfere with his work. You wouldn’t put it past John to put the two of you together in a trap if he found out, maybe not with the intention to kill, but with the intention to scare the living hell out of you.

Even with this threat in mind, you couldn’t help but tease Mark whenever he couldn’t do anything about it: around John and Amanda. You had been sitting together at a table, Amanda placing herself on top of a desk, as you all listened to John talk about his next game. You had zoned out after John had given you your instructions, turning his attention to Amanda. With his attention diverted, you decided to play your favorite game: seeing how far you could push Mark. You placed a hand on his leg, slowly inching higher as he watched you from the corner of his eye. He grabbed your wrist in warning before letting you go. After a few moments, you rested your hand back on his thigh, before moving upwards to palm him through his pants. He sucked in a breath before grabbing your wrist again, turning to you and mouthing “be good.” You rested your chin in your hand, trying to cover your smirk.

You had scurried back to your work room in the warehouse after John was done, setting yourself down at a table and trying to make yourself look busy, waiting for Mark to find you.

“Get up,” he said roughly, sitting down at his own work desk.

“Why?”

“Because I told you to. Get up and get your ass over here.”

You slowly got up from your seat, making your way over to him.

“Lucky for you,” he started, hands working on his belt. “John and Amanda left to go to the other warehouse, needed to work on a trap over there.” He unzipped his pants, pulling himself from his clothing. “Unfortunately for you, you’re not going to get what you want right away.”

Your thighs squeezed together at his words.

“Strip,” he said in a low voice.

You quickly got to work pulling off your clothing before moving to straddle his lap. Already soaked from the thought of what he would do to you, you sunk down onto him, mouth falling open. You began to bounce when he grabbed your hips, stopping you. “What did I say, baby?” he asked. “You don’t get what you want right away.” Your brows furrowed, slightly confused. He laughed. “You want to be a bad girl and tease me? You can sit here and keep my cock warm until I’m ready to fuck you.”

You began to protest, wanting nothing more than to feel him thrusting into you, before a hand around your throat cut you off. “You’re going to be good and sit still here while I work, or I won’t fuck you. Understand?”

You nodded, restraining yourself from rolling your hips.

“Good girl.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder as he got to work on the design in front of him. You held yourself tightly against him, trying not to think about the ache between your legs.

You tried to slowly roll your hips, trying to get any sort of friction. You let out a yelp when his hand came down on your ass.

“What did I tell you?” he asked.

“To sit still,” you whimpered.

“Exactly. So be a good girl and sit still.” You could hear the slight strain in his voice, how he was forcing himself to stay still as well.

He got back to work as you clung to him. The feeling of being full of him, but not feeling him thrusting into you, was almost unbearable. You let out small whines, tears pooling in your eyes, legs shaking slightly with restraint.

A small moan escaped you when he shifted slightly in his chair, your core so sensitive you thought you were going to implode.

“Fuck, baby,” he said softly as he felt your nails dig into his back. You felt his hips move slightly, a small groan leaving his lips. He tightly gripped one of the armrests, trying to keep himself in check. The feeling of you wrapped around him, the small noises you made, the way your legs shook slightly, almost did him in.

He was done for when he heard you whisper a small “please” in his ear. He roughly thrusted up into you, unable to hold himself back any longer. You moaned loudly, quickly beginning to bounce on his lap. He gripped your hips, letting out a groan.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, lifting you both from the chair and setting you on the table in front of him before quickly thrusting into you. Your back met the table, legs snaking around his waist.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so fuckin’ good,” he praised. “Did so good for me.”

You cried out, desperately rolling your hips, meeting his thrusts. He grabbed your thighs, pressing them back against your chest, allowing him to go even deeper. Your head fell back against the desk, loud whimpers leaving your throat.

“Got off easy this time, baby,” he groaned. “Just sounded so fuckin’ pretty trying to restrain yourself.”

Your hands gripped the edge of the desk as you felt your orgasm quickly approaching. His hand found it’s way down to your clit, rubbing rough circles as he gave you permission. Your back arched off the table, pleasure washing over you as you fell over the edge. He gripped your thighs tighter, thrusts growing sloppier, as he emptied himself inside you.

You both stayed there, trying to catch your breaths. He let go of your legs, placing his hands on either side of your head.

“The next time you try that shit,” he said, still slightly breathless, eyes boring into yours. “I’ll make you warm my cock until I finish the whole design.”

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