#//solemnly but not solemnly nodding my head in agreement

[mechahero]

//glancing at this tweet then at lambda and then back at this tweet again

[earthtooz]

x : NOT JEALOUS ! :*+ﾟ

in which: alhaitham isn't jealous, he doesn't get jealous, so what is this suffocating feeling in his chest that only happens when you're talking to another man that isn't him?

warnings: 5.4k words, jealous!alhaitham x gn!reader who has loads of rizz, university!au, fluff with angst but happy ending, pining!alhaitham who doesn't realise that he loves you, kaveh is there, mention of cyno, ooc at some bits?, swearing, alhaitham is a little bit of an asshole at some parts sawry. he's bad with feelings.

a/n: inspired by @danijaci's jealous jealous boy comic with alhaitham! hi dani if you're reading this pls don't perceive me... hides... but i hope you all like it :,)

Alhaitham isn’t jealous. 

The uncomfortable feeling obstructing itself in his throat is just because he’s beginning to develop a sore throat- that’s all. It is flu season after all, who knows what kind of bacteria are in the air? Ones capable of lathing an uncomfortable oil that burns inside his chest, the smog crowding its way into his heart, sickening him to his core as Alhaitham can’t help but eavesdrop on the conversation happening beside him.

“I’m free friday,” a voice besides you confirms.

“Okay!” you cheer, sounding a little too happy for Alhaitham’s liking. After all, it’s 9 am, who has this much energy in the morning? “lets do Friday then!”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then. Bye Y/n.”

“Bye, see you!” Alhaitham watches from the corner of his eye as you wave to the random stranger you’ve decided to associate yourself with before finally taking the seat beside him with a sigh. 

He doesn’t say anything to you, feeling your eyes glance at him expectantly as he stares stubbornly at the lecture board instead of acknowledging you or the jumble of feelings clogging up his diaphragm. 

“Hello, you,” You lean over slightly, careful to not invade his personal space whilst waving at him, hoping to catch his attention. He glances at you, nodding in greeting before returning to his book, the pages and rows of words only fuelling his unease he suddenly felt. He doesn’t even know where he left off, the book’s events a blur in Alhaitham’s mind.

How bothersome. What’s happening to him?

“Talkative today, aren’t you?” Your tone is playful despite his cold attitude and Alhaitham sneaks another look in your direction, noting the way your lips curve upwards. “So, how are you?” 

“I’m fine,” he murmurs, inserting a bookmark between the pages before slamming it shut, an indicator that you could keep conversing with him.

“Cool.” You tap your nails on the desks of the lecture hall. “Oh, I finished my essay the other day.”

“The one for your elective?”

You hum in agreement, “I hope I never get it back. Submitted it ten minutes before the due date.”

“You know you wouldn’t have been stressed over it if you just started it earlier-”

“I know, I know,” you huff, “spare your productivity lectures for another time, I’ll be needing them later in the semester.” The grey-haired shakes his head as you laugh, but his gaze returns to the front cover of his book as he solemnly thinks about the interaction you had with another man, right in front of him. 

(What right did he have to see you smiling so earnestly like that?)

“Who was that?” Alhaitham coughs out, barely choking down his pride in time to make space for the question.

You murmur some guy’s name that he doesn’t bother to remember. “He’s a friend of mine in the same discussion group for this course and we decided to do the assignment together. He bumped into me on the way in so we were just planning when to meet to do the research.”

“Oh.” Your answer doesn’t calm the churning in Alhaitham’s gut. Not even one bit, in fact, it makes it worse. 

But it’s not jealousy, Alhaitham doesn’t get jealous because he’s above petty feelings of inadequacy. He’s merely concerned for you, worried for your brainpower by the end of the project because your partner seems less-than-incompetent. If you’d picked someone like Alhaitham (or better yet, just picked Alhaitham), you would’ve aced the class without even blinking an eye. 

(The two of you are friends, so why didn’t you pick him? It’s literally been proven that the two of you are compatible working together since you were both executives of Sumeru’s Cultural Society, and amidst all of the activities the club has run, you’ve collaborated many times to make each event run flawlessly. So why not him? Why would you pick another man over him?)

“You know you could have picked me, I wouldn’t mind working on the assignment with you,” he grumbles, words soft but very clear.

Alhaitham misses the way your eyes widen in shock as apologies scramble out of your mouth. “I’m sorry! I automatically assumed that you wanted to work on it by yourself. Next time I’ll ask you.” 

The lecture begins before he could say anything in return and like a robot, he sets his thoughts aside and begins listening, notes document up and cursor blinking at the ready.

A mundane two hours pass by, one powerpoint slide after powerpoint slide before the lecture is finally over, much to your pleasure. Alhaitham notices the way you eagerly jump out of your seat to stretch, grabbing your bag. On the other hand, your grey-haired accomplice takes his time in packing up, forcing you to wait for him.

“Would you like to get some coffee before the meeting?” You ask.

“Sure, we can find a seat there and join it together,” he adds and you beam at him, expression bright and so enchanting that it makes him forget about all the perplexities he felt before the lecture. 

The two of you make your way to one of the many campus cafés where you practically wrestled Alhaitham to stop him from paying for both your orders (losing in the end) before sitting at a booth, your laptop set up with a pair of Alhaitham’s earphones shared between you. The meeting begins to fill up with almost all committee members, even Kaveh, who resides in his room of his and Alhaitham’s shared flat. Upon noticing him, you go to text him, with the grey-haired peeking over your shoulder from time to time to see your conversation- not that he cares that much.

(Perhaps if Kaveh glanced up from his phone, then he’d see how close Alhaitham had gotten with you, breaching the distance that he prefers to keep around others. He’d also notice the headphone sharing despite how he generally tends to keep them out of anyone else’s hands.)

You’re tasked with the role of taking notes for the meeting since Alhaitham, in your opinion, is not at all a reliable scribe. His notes tend to just include vital information and never what everyone else needs to know, yet each time you scold him for it, his unbothered expression never falters, waving your complaints off with a shrug. 

“Hey, Kaveh and I are going to go for lunch tomorrow after our classes. Care to join?” You ask, smiling at him hopefully as your messages with Kaveh sit open on your screen. Alhaitham doesn’t think twice before agreeing. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“It looks like it’s about to rain,” you murmur, pulling out a chair as Alhaitham and Kaveh take their seats opposite you. 

“So it does,” Alhaitham notes, not caring to look too long out the window before returning his gaze to you. “You have an umbrella, right?”

“I, uh, didn’t think I needed one today.”

“Do you not check the weather before you leave?”

“Not everyone’s like you, Alhaitham.” Kaveh teases. “It’s no problem, Y/n, if it rains I can walk you back to your dorm.”

“Only if you are okay with it,” you insist, “I have no problem walking home in the rain. I love the rain.”

Alhaitham intervenes with a raise of his hand. “Nonsense, you’ll catch a cold. We’ll walk you home.”

A soft but genuine ‘thank you’ slips from your lips, neither of you wiser to the way Kaveh eyes his roommate suspiciously, not missing the use of ‘we’ in his sentence and the implications the collective pronoun has. For it meant that Alhaitham is willing to take precious time out of his day to perform an act for someone that he is not indebted to do. Not that Alhaitham is inherently selfish, per se, but he is a man of routine. He wakes up every morning and takes five minutes to scribble on his stupid whiteboard in the kitchen what he has to do for the day and strictly abides by it, not even straying two minutes off schedule.

Willingly volunteering his minutes? Kaveh finds that suspicious. 

“So, how’s your architecture assignment, Kaveh?” You ask, breaking the blond from his daze whilst Alhaitham pours glasses of water for the table, starting with your cup. 

“A nightmare,” he sighs, sinking into his chair. “I still have so much to do, you know my professor didn’t like my blueprint? How ridiculous! I hope that man steps in a puddle and wets his sock.”

The grey-haired pipes up with a remark. “I can’t wait for it to be done, our living room is a mess right now.” 

“Hey, I am the one that cleans that living room, thank you very much. Your bookshelf is still a mess even though I’ve asked you to clean it five times.”

“If it bothers you so much then why don’t you do it yourself?”

“I’m the only one who-”

“-I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you murmur, cutting the conversation before shuffling out of your chair, seemingly eager to do so.

Kaveh turns to the grey-haired again, “and you just scared away Y/n.”

“Sorry no one wants to hear about your architecture project.”

“Y/n literally asked, asshole.”

A rebuttal sits on the tip of Alhaitham’s tongue- as it always does when it comes to bickering with his roommate, but it dies out when an intruder comes to the table. “Excuse me, I hate to interrupt,” he begins, “but the person who just got up, is that your friend?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“Oh, I just wanted to drop this off, mind passing it over for me?” The piece of paper he was holding lands in Kaveh’s hand. “Thanks, bro.” Is all he says before strolling away, out of sight but definitely not out of mind.

The blond does not hesitate to open it up, chuckling in amusement when reading the content. “’Hey you’re cute, here’s my number’ it says. What a bitch! You didn’t like his vibes either, right, Alhaitham?”

“Hold on, what does the note say?”

Grabbing (snatching) it from Kaveh, the grey-haired has half a mind to rip the note apart, a certain sense of distaste washing over him that intensifies the long he stares at the guy’s handwriting. His eye is twitching. Why is his eye twitching?

“Hey!” He hears Kaveh call. “Don’t scrunch it, that’s Y/n’s-“

Alhaitham stuffs the ball of paper into his bag where he’ll recycle it later even though something irrational within him tells him to burn it. “Y/n won’t miss it. You said it yourself, he’s a bitch.”

“Sure, but why are you doing-“

“Hey!” You interrupt, sliding back into your chair with a grin on your face. “So, what did I miss?”

“Nothing,” the grey-haired murmurs, assuming his crossed-arm position. Kaveh side eyes his roommate before agreeing with a hum. “Let’s order something now. We want to beat the rain, right?”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

This meeting for the Sumeru Society might have been one of the most important ones of the year thus far, with almost every committee member expected to attend. After all, the annual ball was a big event that always had the largest turnout, and the amount of planning that goes into it to ensure its success is almost triple that of its other events.

So why weren’t you here?

“Why did you leave the meeting early on Friday?” Alhaitham asks as soon as he sees you.

You pause briefly, eyes widening and eyebrows raising. It must have been the way that Alhaitham’s voice raised a pitch towards the end of the question, demonstrating a nervous break in character that was not at all typical. Cool and collected would be the defining words to describe Alhaitham, as well as someone who does not care for the menial activities of others, so what is he doing asking you? And why does he care so much?

“I, uh, had dinner with someone,” you confess, continuing to grab your books and laptop, missing the way his features contort into something un-cool, and very un-Alhaitham.

“Whom?”

You murmur the name of some other guy, who he vaguely recalls to be your project partner.

“What?” Alhaitham snaps.

“I didn’t think missing out on some of the meeting would be a big deal! I got another committee member to explain what I missed,” you justified. “Besides, there’s no big events going on right now, so I thought-”

“-That you could abandon your tasks and go have fun with someone else?”

Alhaitham’s not really sure why he said that. He’s not angry that you skipped a meeting; there are larger things in the world to worry about, he’s angry because you spent time with another guy that wasn’t him.Why not go to dinner with him instead? He spends it every night with Kaveh, and you are far more favourable than Kaveh.  

“Is it really something to get mad over? I already told you, I got the meeting notes and everything-”

“-You’re an executive of the society, Y/n, more is expected from you.”

“Seriously?” you ask, “how come you didn’t bat an eye when the vice president wasn’t there the other day?”

“Because she was sick.” 

“Okay, fine! what about the subcommittee? they’re not always there either!” 

“They’re subcom. Whether they miss a meeting or not is not crucial.”

“So, it’s just my business that you care about?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed, disbelief clouding over your expression like a mask.

Again, Alhaitham doesn’t know where these punches are coming from and why he’s throwing them against you so viciously, but his heart is tightening defensively with a burning emotion that he’s been feeling more and more recently, and his first instinct is to lash out, to protect himself from it.

Perhaps it’s because foreign things that he can’t understand terrify him and you, all you ever do is make him feel things that he’s never felt before and he can’t understand why. 

“You’re not that special.”

A flash of hurt gleams in your eyes and Alhaitham knows now that he’s royally fucked up. “You’re an ass,” you grumble, about to walk away when he intercepts.

“Listen to me!”

“Fuck off!” 

“Y/n-”

You’re gone before he can get another word out, retreating figure stomping away whilst his chest weaves into knots; something that no amount of deep breathing can calm. It doesn’t help that the minute he returns home, Kaveh is onto him like some sort of parasite, curious over the tense air surrounding his normally-composed roommate. 

“Hey, welcome home- whoa, what’s gotten into you?” The blond asks.

“None of your business,” Alhaitham grumbles through gritted teeth, taking his shoes off and throwing them aside haphazardly. Kaveh doesn’t miss the way Alhaitham’s jaw is clenched, or the strain in his hand when he brings up a hand to run through his hair, or the very subtle and minute twitch in his cheek.

The blond ignores all signs that he wants to be left alone, and instead, follows the grey-haired to his room after he swung the door open. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, let’s talk about this-”

“Talk about what?” Alhaitham growls.

“Who pissed in your black coffee today?” 

“No one. Now get lost.” 

“Aw, come on, you know what they say. Getting things off your chest is always beneficial.”

“There’s nothing on my chest, go away.”

“You sure? no stress, no deadlines, no love interest making you tear your hair out-”

“-No, no, none of those!”

“Then what?”

Alhaitham steadies himself by resting his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he exhales loudly. “I got pissed and took it out on Y/n, who’s mad at me now.”

“Huh? Why so annoyed?”

“Because Y/n went to dinner with another man.”

It’s silent for a while. The sassy quip that he expects from Kaveh does not happen. Instead, the blond merely smiles, a satisfied, knowing grin that slightly irks him. “You know, I’ve been waiting for the day you realise you have feelings for Y/n.” 

“What? Where did you get that conclusion from?” Alhaitham sits up straighter. There are a lot of things he knows, and he knows for sure that he does not like you in any way beyond platonic. He doesn’t have any time to spare for love. There are scholarships he still needs to apply for, internships to be interviewed for, research projects to submit- nowhere amongst the minute hand of the clock is there space for love. 

“Oh come on,” Kaveh sits down on the bed beside his roommate, leaning back on his hands. “You’re not as smooth as you hope to be sometimes.”

“I’m serious, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Y’know the sooner you accept you have feelings for Y/n, the easier life will be.”

“Life is already easy and there is no sooner because I don’t like Y/n like that. Now get lost. I have stuff I need to finish.”

Kaveh shrugs, standing up with a soft ‘suit yourself’, taking seven steps before he’s out of the room. Alhaitham lets out a sigh that has lodged itself in his throat for too long, and the feeling of reprieve he gets is short-lived before he’s flooded with a certain tightness again. Maybe he did have a weight on his chest after all, not that he’d ever admit it to himself or Kaveh.

He gets up from his made bed with a grunt and decides to push aside all distractions. Time is unforgiving, and if doesn’t finish his assignment by this Friday then he’ll be a little less than pleased.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Alhaitham feels like he can’t breathe. 

You’re sitting alone at a library desk, all focused and concentrated on your laptop screen with your headphones on, blocking out any outside voice as you type away. He wonders if he should say hi, maybe try apologising for the way he acted last Monday- who is this guy that’s approaching you and why does he look so familiar? 

And why are you smiling so happily?

You beckon to the seat beside you and the guy readily complies, taking the chair beside you like he belonged there, like there weren’t other candidates that should be there instead (he’s not talking about himself. definitely not).

He hands you one of two coffee cups he’s holding. What kind of right does this guy have to give you a coffee? Does he even know your order?

He feels like a bit of creep keenly watching you interact with someone else from a balcony of the library, but the book and laptop in front of him lies forgotten, and in a rare moment of weakness, Alhaitham can’t find it in himself to return to his tasks, pursuit of knowledge momentarily forgotten. He can’t push aside the bile that threatens to rise, he can’t loosen his grip on the couch’s armrest, and he can’t blink for a second in fear of losing you from his sight.

(You’re laughing. Why are you laughing? How can you look so pretty laughing and why doesn’t he ever get to make you laugh like this?)

Alhaitham is losing his damn mind. So much so that the first thing he does when he sees you again is corner you. 

“You shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.”

You’re backed against the brick walls of the time-worn building that your shared lecture always takes place in, and Alhaitham, spotting you like a hawk, put you in this precarious position as soon as the two hours were over. 

He can’t breathe. It’s been almost three weeks since you last spoke to him and you’re staring up at him like you’ve done nothing wrong, blinking once and twice at his uncharacteristic display of subtle aggression. 

“Who?” you mutter, shaking your head to try and grasp reality once again. you hug your laptop closer to your body. “What’s this about?”

“I said you shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.” 

“What guy?” 

“Your project partner.”

“Really?” you mutter in disbelief.

He nods, teal eyes shining at you firmly. “Really. The project’s over, you don’t need to talk to him anymore.” 

“I don’t recall ever giving you the right to dictate who gets to be in my life or not, just like how you can’t tell me what to do with my time.” 

“I’m looking out for you, so stop trying to make me sound tyrannical.” 

Your mouth hangs open as you furrow your eyebrows, growing more and more frustrated with each second. So much for thinking that he wanted to resolve the awkwardness between the two of you. “I’m not even going to argue with you,” you murmur a quick ‘jerk’ under your breath before brushing past him. 

Alhaitham, however, is not willing to let you go as easily as you wish, quick to chase after you. Not that you go far anyways, turning around to face him again in the spaciousness of the vacant hallway. “Why do you care?” You ask, exasperated. “You’re Alhaitham, you don’t let trivial things like who I hangout with bother you, you’re cool and collected and rational, and I just don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

He doesn’t understand either, not the erratic beating of his heart, the stubbornness of his mind, nor this undisputable urge to keep you all to himself. Is it normal to want to hide someone for selfish reasons?

Trailing off, Alhaitham is slightly humiliated that for the first time in his life, someone has witnessed him coming short of an answer. No logical conclusion, no explanation, not even a satisfying quip, just plain, suffocating silence.

“Right. When you do have an answer, let me know.” You walk away.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Your last rebuttal still weighs heavily on Alhaitham’s mind, even two days later as he and Kaveh are seated for a lecture in a shared course. His thoughts are scrambled like never before, the messiness of it all making him feel uneasy because for once, he doesn’t have an appropriate answer to a question.

Why was he acting like a temperamental teenager? What you did with your life was up to you, and indeed he has no right trying to change that. More importantly, why was it so hard to apologise for the stuff he said-

“So, how’s everything between you and Y/n?” 

Kaveh turns to him with widened eyes whilst Alhaitham’s poker face doesn’t move an inch, deceivingly apathetic.

“Good, we’ve been hanging out a lot more recently,” the other guy says, who Alhaitham quickly recognises to be your project partner and distaste rises in his stomach like bile. 

“Aye, good for you, man! So when are you going to ask Y/n out?”

“No way, bro, not yet. I’m such a wimp, but I hope I grow the balls to ask soon because I really like-”

“-looks like you got some competition!” The blond nudges Alhaitham, and if it were anyone else, they would not have glanced twice at the grey-haired who seemed unmoving and uninterested. However, Kaveh is not anyone else because he noticed the darkened look in Alhaitham’s eyes instantly, anger seeping into his composed gaze as his nose scrunches in disgust. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“So, you and Alhaitham still aren’t talking?” Kaveh asks, leaning on the table of the restaurant with curious ears, hoping that he can grab some answers out of you as to why there was a stalemate between you and his roommate.

“Nope,” you sigh. 

“Why not?”

“I’m just-” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “I’m just waiting on an apology from him.”

“An apology? Why? What did he say?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“You know how he is. Always insufferably secretive, so no, I don’t know anything that happened.” 

“Alhaitham just said some hurtful things to me, and he was being weird when I told him I was going to dinner with a friend of mine. Just kept being in my business.”

“Really?” The architecture student quirks a brow, confusion plastered on his face. “That’s not like Alhaitham at all.”

“I know, right? He kept trying to be like ‘don’t hang out with him’ and ridiculed me for not playing my part as an executive of the Sumeru society,” you complained, “like sorry I have other things I want to do.”

Kaveh nods in understanding as the conversation briefly stops when the waiter comes to drop off utensils at your table. As soon as they were gone, however, you begin again.

“And even though he was all up in my business, trying to tell me what not to do, he then said that I wasn’t special, which is so confusing because like-”

“-hold on. Alhaitham said that you weren’t special?” You nod at his parroted claim. “To him?” 

“Yeah. Stung like shit when he said that, especially since I thought we were friends but guess not,” you murmur sadly, fiddling with the fork.

Later that night, almost immediately after meeting you over dinner, Kaveh barges into his roommate’s room, not even changing out of his outside clothes. The sudden intrusion shocks Alhaitham who was busy typing on a document, textbook splayed open beneath him but momentarily forgotten as the blond takes a seat on the bed.

“What the- not even a hello?” The grey-haired asks, confused by this uncharacteristic silence of Kaveh’s. It’s pretty normal for the blond to barge into his room without notice, but it was not normal for him to be so quiet, practically brooding on the mattress. “Whatever. Where have you been? Have you eaten yet, because I made-”

“When will you just confess to Y/n?”

The mention of your name causes a spike in Alhaitham’s heartbeat and he swivels around instantly, attention fully directed towards his roommate. “Where is this coming from?”

“Y/n told me everything that happened between you two by the way-”

“-what, when?”

“Tonight, we just met for dinner.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“What would you have done if you knew? Showed up and made things worse?” He doesn’t say anything in retaliation, merely shutting his mouth and furrowing his eyebrows. “Why did you say that Y/n wasn’t special to you?” 

“I didn’t,” Alhaitham sighs, very loud and very perplexed. “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did.”

“Don’t you miss Y/n? You two used to hangout so often.”

“I do, of course I do!” He exclaims, burrowing his face in his hands. 

“So why aren’t you apologising?” 

“Because whenever I’m around Y/n, I’m not who I normally am,” he mutters, “especially everything whenever that project partner is around-”

“Jealous, much?”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Oh come on, you’re ridiculous. Stop pushing away your feelings and just be honest with yourself, Alhaitham! Y/n is not just a friend to you and you know it.”

“But, we are just friends-”

“So you mean to tell me that if I hung out with someone else- like if I hung out with Cyno, you would be pissed?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Then why is it different with Y/n?” Once again, Alhaitham doesn’t have an answer to the question, sitting as still as a statue hunched over his desk. “Fine, I’ll spell it out to you. You like Y/n, more than just a friend!”

The silence leftover from Kaveh’s outburst is tense and full as the grey-haired lets the words sink in. 

“I’ll let you think about it,” the blond murmurs, voice softening dramatically as he stalks out of the room. Before he closes the door, however, he leaves a few final words. “Just- be honest with yourself, Alhaitham, and I wouldn’t delay trying to talk to Y/n.”

A sharp click rings through the room.

Alhaitham is no stranger to being alone, for who needs the company of others when you are happiest by yourself? Yet, in the weeks that you have not been speaking to him, a cardinal urge as been growing each and each day, wanting him to do something so atypical of him: to reach out and make the first move. Every passing day doesn’t lessen the thoughts that plague his mind, rather, they make him more and more impatient, because what if you get swept away by your project partner? 

(What if he’ll be too late? What if you won’t know of these powerful emotions that are steering through the storm in his heart? What if you won’t know just how badly he was been wanting you- wanting to see you, wanting to apologise, wanting to see you beam at him like you always would.

What if you won’t know that he adores you, especially now that he’s figured it out?).

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A rain droplet falls and lands on your nose, another lands on your forehead, then another lands on your lip then more and more keep falling from the cloudy sky, falling through the leaves and landing on the bench you were currently sitting on. Goodness, you should have checked the weather before leaving your dorm. Why was it now out of all times that it had to rain, what would Alhaitham think after he finally decided to reach out to talk?

Taking your phone out to message the grey-haired about relocating, an umbrella is suddenly held over you, stopping the gentle drizzle from falling onto you. Looking up, you’re greeted by a familiar face that you have been missing too much recently.

“Hello, you,” you breathe, voice gentle and quiet and Alhaitham feels like he can finally breathe after so long, the scent of rain washing away all perplexion.

He nods at you in greeting before offering you the bouquet of flowers he was holding. A gorgeous arrangement of pink of white stare prettily at you and a man even more gorgeous expects you to accept it.

“For me?” You ask.

“For you.”

“Thank you, they’re so beautiful,” you take his gift with gentle hands, holding it close to your chest. 

“I want to apologise,” he firmly states, getting straight to the point; very Alhaitham of him. “For treating you the way I have been recently.”

You beam at him, so bright and so gorgeous that it renders him speechless, a feat pretty difficult when it comes to someone like Alhaitham who has a whole dictionary of words, in multiple languages too. Somehow, they all flock out of his mind the second you smile at him.  

“I accept your apology, thank you for reaching out, must have been hard for someone like you, huh?” You tease, standing up from the bench.

“Well, I had do for someone as special as you.” The grey-haired’s voice is deceivingly confident and assured, but you know better, especially when he looks away to hide his expression with his neatly styled bangs. 

“No need for the flattery, you know, I’ve already forgiven you.” There’s a moment of silence that occupies the air, caused by Alhaitham’s hesitation as he fishes his brain for the courage to ask you out. You speak before he can get a word out, however. “I got asked out the other day.”

“By your groupmate?”

“He has a name, you know, but, yeah. I rejected him, though,” you laugh awkwardly, almost like you were trying to cope with it by playing it off. “Did you know that he would do that?” 

“Yes. I did.”

“Is that why you were so adamant on me not hanging out with him?”

“I guess you could say that. We can talk more about it another time,” he tells you, voice gentle and caring to mask the subtle hit of jealousy he feels in his chest, scolding himself for letting someone else confess to you before him. However, it’s a minute sensation in comparison to the triumph Alhaitham feels knowing that you rejected the other party. 

“We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

“We do, but I want to ask you something first.” 

You nod, hugging the bouquet closer to your chest, anticipation heavy in the air as you spur him to continue. 

“If I asked you out, would you reject me too?”

A mere second passes by where you don’t respond, yet the second stretches out to what feels like eternity as Alhaitham’s stomach churns. Patience is something he doesn’t lack, but how can he be patient when his heart wants you so bad? 

Then, you take his hand, and the heavens sing at the feeling of your hand in his. “I wouldn’t, but are you asking me out?”

“Are you free right now?”

“I am. Why?”

“Let’s go out then. On a date.”

“I'd love to.” You rise up to place a lingering kiss on his cheek, one that has his heart racing with joy rather than frustration.

The smile you earn is gentle, shy, but says more than Alhaitham's words ever can.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[monicahar]

“my wife.”

how they address you. why does it make your heart skip a beat each time?

characters; neuvillette, wriothesley

—female pronouns obvi, aaaa this is so random😭 fluff, tad bit of crack, has suggestive themes/dirty jokes cause that's my humor in general, just tryna get into writing again heehaa don't mind me ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ

NEUVILETTE always accompanies the term with unmatched affection. it rolls off his tongue perfectly like a match made in heaven, coupled with the serene image of you instantaneously appearing in his mind before he even thinks of the uttering the endearing term. he still finds it surreal that you are both even lawfully married, yet the way he calls you his wife is already on instinct. is it too presumptuous of him?

well, in the end, he can't find any means to worry about it when you seem to equally adore the nickname.

“ooohh, say it again, say it again!”

he can't tell whether he married a child or not, but he still obliges your request and calls you his wife affectionately once more.

meanwhile, furina nearly gags everytime she hears him say it so softly—like using any other tone when referring to you would land him in the hands of the fortress of meropide. sure—she might've been the one who set up both of you—but the drama and thrill akin to watching a romance film has delightfully ended, and she can only meddle so much in marital matters. the iudex just might actually have her head in a platter if she were to do anything mischievous at that point.

but while a happy neuvillette is running around announcing 'my wife' this and 'my wife' that, you are currently stuck on what to call him in return, sadly enough.

“at this point, i think i'm just going to call you daddy.”

it was unfortunate with the way he choked on some of the water he was drinking—well, thank goodness he didn't spill much as before. for this wasn't the first time you said something unprompted while he was in peace with his water—he can only internally sigh.

“and what exactly has influenced you to arrive at such a conclusion, my wife?” he does not miss the tiny shudder of your body that followed the endearment. your face burns a tad bit at that, and he softly chuckles.

“your effect on me is no joke, you know?” you pout at his amused smile, “the way you refer to me so sweetly makes me want to call you my dearest husband everytime.”

“i don't recall voicing any complaints. is something else holding you back from doing so?”

you nod solemnly in agreement at that, which prompts him to raise a brow in mild curiousity.

“thing is, i really like calling you by your first name. same with monsieur neuvilette. there's something mildly erotic within it—you get what i mean, hehehe...” he only stares at you, clearly unimpressed, and a bit concerned at the implication. you clear your throat, apologizing under your breath.

“still—it's such a devastating predicament to be unable to choose between the three.” you sigh defeatedly, moving to slump your entire weight on his lap. you mutter, “my dearest husband monsieur neuvillette...mmm, no, that's too long.”

chuckling at your dramatic antics, he plants a soothing hand on your waist, the other fixing your wrinkled clothing as you practically melt against his hold. “and you thought settling on daddy was the appropriate option?”

“i'm not hearing any objections.” you jest, feeling cheeky.

“please refrain from calling me such a thing in the eyes of the public atleast.”

“...huh? you're actually allowing it??”

WRIOTHESLEY on the other hand, says it as if he's flaunting. it leaves his lips like a taunt each time, indirectly telling the other party 'i have a hot wife and you dont' even though most of the time the people he mentions you to don't even know what you actually look like. it's silly, childish even, but you still love it nonetheless.

sigewinne and the other inmates have collectively told you that ever since you got married, he has never uttered your actual name to anyone else. some find it weird, some find it somehow disrespectful, and some are now convinced he's crazily obsessed with you, and now he's showing it off every chance he gets, much to everyone's dismay.

it's arrived to the point where a small percentage of people have actually forgotten about your name, and now refer to you as the duke's wife, or even duchess, to which you made a face at. that's kind of pushing it by then.

anywho, in the end, it's funny and endearing, maybe even makes you a bit giddy, but there is no way you're telling him that. the situation might escalate even more if possible.

“you know, my wife is very mean to me today.”

as a pair of strong yet gentle arms wrap around your waist, you resist the growing smile on your face, deciding to mess with your husband for a bit.

“is that so?” you continue your chores without a care in the world. he huffs.

“mhm. she won't look me in the eye the whole day, even though she seemed sooo happy last night.” face instantly burning, you hiss as you slap his arm in a fit of embarrassment, pulling a hearty chuckle from the man behind you.

“—and now she's hitting me as well. i can't believe this.” you both know very well he was not fazed in the slightest bit.

“if her husband wasn't such a pervert then maybe—”

his facade cracks as he forces out an awkward laugh, “hey now, baby, you know i'm nothing like that.”

“wriothesley.”

he clears his throat awkwardly, “okay, maybe a little. it's exclusive for you though! my wife doesn't have to be so mean about it, you're making me reallyyy sad here, y'know?”

there it is again, you think. that nickname. that damned word that makes you want to turn around and smash your lips against his and—wait, hold yourself together! don't forget the reason you're being cold to him!

“you deserve to feel remorse. i've been struggling to even move the whole day because of you.”

you go rigid.

you didn't mean for that to come out so bitter...oh no.

“oh. so that's what this is about.” you don't even have to turn around to know that there's a smug look on his stupidly handsome face, his grip on your waist turning into soothing circles as he presses a kiss to your neck.

“if my wife wanted a massage, she could've just said so.” it's husky when it leaves his mouth, leaving you to shiver with the chills he enunciates.

flustered, you completely disregard the way your knees buckle at the endearment laced with that low voice of his, hitting his arm once more, earning a tiny 'ouch' from him.

“pervert. i want rest, not another round!”

“heh, i didn't say anything about another round, my perverted wife.”

“you—” you are abrupt cut off as you yelp in surprise when your feet are raised off the ground, your face now much closer to your husband's as he carries you gently in his arms.

“shhh, just let me take you to bed. if my wife was feeling terrible the whole day, she should've just told me in the first place so she could stay in, don't you think?”

he's right, but you're still angry. “shut up.”

“just letting you know i'm not completely at fault, wife.” you attempt to ignore the furious beating of your heart, face burning at his smug expression. “i'm not the only one who wanted it.”

hsr version...? if i feel like it...🤔🤔

[cheralith]

wish you well — 「 celebrity!gojo x manager!reader (drabble & headcanons 」

synopsis ; after being one of the nation's most well-loved celebrity's manager for nine years, it's time to call it quits. said celebrity, however, doesn't take it too well.

content tags/warnings ; gn!reader, no pronouns for reader used, mild angst, some parts not edited/not beta read

contains ; celebrity!au, a-list actor!gojo satoru, manager!reader, no powers au

notes ; plot inspired by "what's wrong with secretary kim" after my nth rewatch haha

now playing ; i wish you love - nancy wilson

Everyone goes to lean forward in their seats, gripping the edge of it as the music that’s singing from the movie theatre’s speakers suddenly stops, letting the sound effects of rain pebble through instead. The screen displays a running, drenched man in the rain of a lonesome road in the middle of the countryside, his crystal blue eyes hazy with a brim of tears balancing in them as he huffs and puffs, the exhaustion within him visible. The camera cuts to a woman seated safely under a bus stop as the rain pours down with the same view of a descending countryside town still blurred in the distance. She grips the handle of her suitcase as her head goes to gaze solemnly at her shoes. 

A bus goes to a screeching halt, only the tender wheel of it visible as the woman’s gaze is still stuck on the floor before she looks up to see the bus doors opening before her. The running man appears before the screen, desperation clear on his face before the camera slowly turns towards the bus stop the formerly-sitting woman is now standing under. 

“Loretta! Don’t you dare get on that bus!”  the man yells out, earning the woman’s attention.

The woman widens her pale green eyes at the sight of him breaking out into a sprint. She swallows a nervous gulp, too frozen to move from her spot until the man enters under the shelter of the bus stop. His chest engraved with the lining of visible muscles are evident through his pale blue button-down that’s slicked with water and the sight earns a couple of lip bites from women in the theatre. 

The woman stammers, “Y-you know I need to do this…”

“No you don’t,” the man mutters, the camera panning to show his eyes holding desperation and a slight flicker of anger. “Your father wants you to do this, but I know you. I know you don’t want to.”

“But it’s my duty, Vincent—”

“Don’t give me that ‘duty’ shit!” The man shakes his head, letting droplets of water fling all over. “Loretta, please… just stay here with me,” he pleads, holding her face in his hands and forcing the woman to look up at him as his thumbs wipe away her tears that grab onto mascara. “We can stay here… get a house together… build a family… die old together like you said we would. You’re not gonna break your promise, are you?”

“Vincent, that was when we were six!” the woman exclaims sadly, “Don’t tell me you’re still hanging onto that.”

“I’m not hanging onto that promise,” he whispers, pulling her face closer to his. 

The instrumental of a music track begins to play softly in the background, obvious tension rising to the surface in the theatre as the scene continues. A couple of hands shovel into large popcorn buckets and without thinking, shove the popcorn into their salivating mouths. Nails dig into the palms of hands as some chew on them out of anticipation. Eyes wide and unblinking, they give their full attention to the screen.

“Say the line…” whispers one person.

The man tenderly kisses her in a short, but passionate kiss, letting her release from him with a dreamy sigh. 

“I’m holding on to you,” he murmurs ever so softly. 

Compared to the quietness of the man on the screen, the theatre goes absolutely crazy. Shouts and cheers ring through the air as numerous rounds of applause go to harmonize with them. 

The scene in the movie finalizes with Loretta finally swallowing her pride and nodding to Vincent’s agreement, sealing the movie with a kiss that lasts until the screen slowly fades to black. 

“Annnd… that’s a wrap,” the director of the movie jokes as he stands up from his seat. He earns a few laughs from the cast and the crew of the movie. The theatre begins to light up once more and gives a clear view of everyone, including the section that holds the main cast up near the back. “I’d like to give one last thank you to Satoru Gojo and Yuki Tsukumo one last time for giving an amazing performance and dedicating their time for the past year and a half. Thank you both ever so dearly.”

Satoru Gojo, also known as Vincent, goes to stand up with his co-star, also known as Loretta, and they give a synchronized bow to the people in the theatre as the premier for his latest movie finally draws the curtains from behind the audience. “Thank you for directing another outstanding movie. I truly do look forward to working with you again in the future,” he gives another dazzling smile as he and Yuki elegantly walk down the stairs together. They say their final goodbyes as co-stars and depart to opposite sides of the theatre where they’re greeted with their teams. 

You go to hand him his coat you’ve been hanging on to for the past ninety minutes, the scent of cologne finally fading after a suffocating hour and a half. Glancing at the director who heartily laughs with some of the editors of the movie, you let out a light chuckle. 

“Hm? What’s so funny?” Satoru inquires as he shoves on his coat. 

“You’re such a liar,” you say, shrugging as you and him exit the movie’s premiere together, some of the actor’s team following shortly after, conversing with another about how spectacular the movie was. “You’d rather throw yourself off a cliff than work with that guy again.”

Without looking at you, Satoru grins ahead. “You know me so well.”

Ijichi, the chauffeur, is waiting patiently outside the venue despite the winter cold. When he sights the many delighted smiles and laughter, he asks, “I take it the premiere went well?” 

“Very,” you nod, getting into the car to enjoy its warmth.

The car ride is nothing out of the usual, just quiet jazz playing in the background and the city lights glimmer from above. 

“Oh, what’s the agenda for tomorrow by the way?” Satoru asks, his gaze turning from the window to you, who still is focused on the tablet that checks off today’s draining tasks for the celebrity. 

Photoshoot for Ray Ban… done. Look over next month’s plans for Season Two of Jujutsu Kaisen… done. Suit fitting for movie premiere… done. Movie premiere… done!

“(Y/N)~” Satoru calls again but dragging the last syllable of your name and snapping his fingers in front of you to capture your attention. He chuckles when you jolt in your seat. 

“Sorry,” you mutter before swiping to tomorrow’s agenda. “Alright, nothing too big. You just gotta sign that contract that you’ll be the spokesperson for Chaumet, then right after, you have an Elle interview regarding the movie. Then, you’ll have a final dinner with the entire cast and that’s it for the week.”

Satoru nods in approval and obviously ready to take on tomorrow’s attacks. Only three things? He can handle that with ease. If anything, it’s been less of a load to bring on from the recent events that had been happening as of lately. His feet could really use a break from walking over so many red carpets. 

The road begins to lead down a familiar path as you realize you pass the local family diner, your apartment’s entrance shortly coming to view. Ijichi slows to a stop and unlocks the door, letting you out. Before Satoru can say goodbye to his beloved manager, however, you stop the window from rolling up and lean down into the car again. 

“Oh, I forgot to say this earlier, but,” you pause, making sure his attention is all on you for this short, but possibly life-alternating moment. “You’re also meeting your new manager tomorrow, too. She’s really sweet and—”

Time freezes for a moment.

“Wait a minute,” Satoru furrows his brows and faces his body completely towards you, his countenance pulling the curtains to reveal a confused, serious expression that rarely appears on his face. “New manager…? What do you mean?”

The question comes out more as a demand. Breath hitching for a short moment, you release it and smile gently with the corners not letting your eyes curve. You had been anticipating this moment for the longest time now—around half a year of decision making and weighing the pros and cons, then three months deciding when the right time to break the news would be. But at this time, you’ve ran out of time and you’ve ultimately decided to push it towards the day before the deadline, something you almost never do. A little solemnly, you sigh out softly and finally declare the groundbreaking news to the A-list celebrity, your head still high.

“I’ll be quitting as your manager, soon.”

Actor!Gojo, who doesn't get a good night sleep after that abrupt statement, in which you barely gave him time to try and ask why on earth you're giving up the job that many people would kill for, only leaving him with a small wave and a subtle "goodnight." Your voice replayed in his head the entire night, the sentence resembling nails on a chalkboard the more he repeated it to himself—"I'll be quitting as your manager, soon."

Actor!Gojo, who thinks you have the nerve to put on a smile and greet him good morning the following sunrise as if nothing happened, as if you weren't breaking a bond of nearly nine years with him. Your words for today’s plans go in and out of his ears as Satoru wearily examines your appearance and movements in the kitchen that he almost never uses as he rounds up his thoughts that poisoned his head ever since you said that all-too-bold statement last night that shifted his entire world in the matter of seconds.

Actor!Gojo, who cuts you off mid-sentence, asking you sharply why you're quitting as his manager out of the blue, his usually-playful baby blue hues piercing right into you. He notices your smile faltering a bit, but never completely dissipating, though it comes severely close to doing so when you tell him why.

Actor!Gojo, who listens much too intently for his liking when he hears you out, a feat he rarely does. "The past nine years have been wonderful, don't get me wrong," you murmur as you slather on a sugary marmalade on his toast. "But I don't think I'm really getting much out of life just being someone's manager."

Actor!Gojo, who pretends as if those last two words don't sting his chest. Someone's manager... as if he's not one of the most worshipped and celebrated A-list actors in the industry right now. But he supposes that's why he stuck by you, since you understood that he, too, was just a regular human being at the end of the day like the rest of humanity, even with his godlike good looks.

Actor!Gojo, whose mouth runs dry when you continue. "I don't want to be the side character to someone's story. I deserve to live fully too." you finish, pushing Gojo's plate of breakfast towards him before snacking on the leftovers. You stare at him, awaiting his response. You understand that despite you thinking over such a big decision for a few months, that it was better to rip off the bandaid and avoid any further complications by quitting unexpectedly, even though you knew Gojo better than anyone.

Actor!Gojo, who attempts to understand where you're coming from. Yes, he can get that maybe this life wasn't the most exciting, but then again, what other jobs out there are? At least with this one, you're guaranteed good—dare he say, great—pay and stability, along with experiencing second-hand what it's like to see all the glitz and glamour most of the population fiend for. It's thanks to him that you've been draped in designer clothes for premiers, that you've tried Michelin delicacies, that you've travelled the world. So... why ditch all of that for a more simple life? Aren't you content?

Actor!Gojo, whose mind flashes back to the moment where you stared a little too longingly at a lovesick couple in the window of a coffee shop, or when your eyes lingered on the engagement rings in a shop window that one day he had to get a suit tailored. He suddenly remembers the one dress rehearsal where he witnessed an extra asking for your number before you declined politely. He had asked you jokingly that you were blind to reject such a handsome guy (second to him, of course), only for you to reply you smiled gently at him and said you had no time to date.

Actor!Gojo, who suddenly blurts out without any restraint, and with a little more edge than expected, "What? D'you want to get married or something?"

Actor!Gojo, who regrets the sentence as soon as it escapes his lips. He swallows thickly and attempts to organize the right words for a proper apology. You stare blankly at him for a moment, and before Gojo can say anything, you nod. "Yeah. It's been a dream of mine to, actually..."

Actor!Gojo, who thinks his coffee tastes much bitter than usual, silently nods after a moment of awkward silence. You open your mouth first to try and cut it through, but he beats you to it. "I'm sure I could re-arrange some stuff in the schedule so you can get out there and meet someone. There's no need to quit." He ignores the weird pang in his chest the moment he says "someone."

Actor!Gojo, who frowns when you shake your head. You explain it would still be hard, as he'd remain your first priority despite it all. You mention that you've already submitted your resignation letter to his agency three weeks ago and that it's been processed, that it'll be your last two weeks as you being his manager and that you'll be saying goodbye to what had been nearly a decade of companionship with the celebrity.

Actor!Gojo, who flinches as the doorbell rings and watches miserably as you fetch the person at the door. She's a young girl, around the age when you first started as his manager, with choppy bangs and long blue hair, along with a bright and ready smile. You introduce her as his to-be manager, but Gojo can't shake off the thought of being greeted by her face in the morning and seeing her face as the last thing he sees before he goes to sleep instead of yours.

Actor!Gojo, who thinks this week is going much too fast for his liking. Despite essentially begging for the director of his latest TV show to give him some extra scenes to shoot, he was excused early with the rest of the crew after all the required scenes were shot nicely. Somehow, the brand deal commercial and meeting flew by much faster than usual, too. But despite it all, Gojo couldn't help his eyes constantly flickering to your figure whenever you were in his field of vision, even receiving multiple warnings from the director from the commercial to stop getting distracted.

Actor!Gojo, who finds his gaze lingering on a rather old picture of you and him, along with some blurry figures in the background. Nine years younger, both of you, with outdated fashion and makeup. He remembers you were just shy of being his manager for four months, when he was still trying to break out of the shell of being a nepotism baby and attempting to create a name for himself. Gojo prided himself on his independence, but he'd be fooling himself if he didn't give a hefty amount of credit of his success to you. After all, you were the one that was in charge of his many brand deals and were the one that landed him roles that granted him film awards.

Actor!Gojo, who can't find the right words to say during the drives home, hating how the air is always thick whenever you were alone with him. He doesn't think he can get used to not pulling up to your apartment when the night comes to an end before going to his, despite your affirmations that him and Miwa would get along great. He murmurs a good night to you, not facing you despite watching your reflection intently in the window, but before you wish him a good evening, you say something that forces him to face you.

"I have... a dinner reservation with someone at 6:30 p.m., so I'll be leaving early tomorrow."

Gojo blinks. "Is that implying you have a date?"

"I..." you swallow anticipatingly. "I suppose you could say that."

Actor!Gojo, who feels the familiar pang of his chest as the thought of someone else sharing a dinner with you, something you've been doing with him since the very beginning of his career. He can't even imagine a person, only some sort of foggy figure sitting across from you, sharing a shabby meal. He can tell you're waiting a response from him before you head into your apartment, and he wryly says, "That's great... Hope you have a good time or whatever..." before commanding the driver to drive off, not even waiting for another word from you.

Actor!Gojo, who drums his fingers with great boredom against the door's handle, fighting off the nuisance that was the city's insane traffic this evening. When he gazes out the window to find some other distraction other than his phone, however, he instantly finds himself drawn to a familiar figure being seated at the window a few stories up in the restaurant his car was stuck in front of. You're up there, dressed regally for another, giggling with them at something they said (something stupid, Gojo thinks to himself). Teeth grit against themselves when they feed you a small portion of their food with their fork, the indirect kiss making his eyes narrow.

Actor!Gojo, whose spontaneous anger suddenly dispels when he repeats your words from earlier that week.

"What? D'you want to get married or something?"

"Yeah. It's been a dream of mine to, actually..."

Gojo suddenly pauses and goes still for a while, thinking over something incredulous. He blinks repeatedly, before a grin etches on his face as his plan settles into his consciousness. Gojo may not give you anything you desire if you're just his mere manager...

... but if he were your husband, then that meant your dream would be fulfilled and you could stay at his side for what was essentially the rest of his life and give you anything you wanted. He'd never have to fret about you leaving his life ever again.

Satoru Gojo, you absolute Einstein... he compliments himself proudly in his mind. Letting out a confident huff as the car begins to drive on, he tells the driver to head on over to the nearest jewelry store before heading home.

a/n: hi sorry it's been a while! i was finishing up a semester at uni, so forgive my absence with this little weird hybrid ficlet of mine featuring the one and only

i hope you enjoyed and thank you for taking time out of your day to enjoy my writing! likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and are always appreciated (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ !!!

[wysteria-bloom]

▨ "our child is an angel"

JJK characters when called into teacher's office about their child

Characters : gojo, toji, nanami, sukuna

Genre : fluff, crack

Warnings : I use female pronouns

A/n : Toji is not a deadbeat dad in this one because yeah. Wish he was canonical a hot dilf but we can never get what we want where Gege is concerned 😟

⟢ gojo satoru ␥

"When your son was asked to wait to go to the bathroom, he replied 'I will pee on your floor then bitch.'" The teacher spoke solemnly.

Satoru immediately snorted which you gave him a death glare for, pinching his thigh harshly.

You frowned," Well, before I question why the teacher denied bathroom privileges..." you turned to your husband. Your son was pouting next to you both, looking away with narrowed eyes," That doesn't sound like him at all, does it Satoru?"

Satoru immediately agreed with you, shaking his head," N-no. Not at all. Who taught you that language, kiddo?"

His son looked at him with a betrayed expression, pointing at him accusingly "YOU did!" He exclaimed.

Satoru's smile was pained as you slowly turned your head to him, eyebrows furrowing,"... Thank you for your time, Mrs. Fiyumi. I will have a stern talking. With BOTH of them." Then you gave her the brightest smile," I think it's all the candy they've been eating, I think maybe it's time to cut down on it all, yeah?"

The teacher nodded in agreement with a knowing smile," Yes, I agree."

The two males simultaneously slouched back into their chairs with loud groans which they covered up with coughs when you glared at them.

Satoru mustered a charming grin, settling a loving hand on your shoulder," I've been meaning to go on a diet anyways, haha..."

You rolled your eyes and patted his hand with yours in a pitying way," shut up, my love."

"Dad! Grow a backbone, you lanky idiot!" Your son scoffed out disapprovingly.

The white-haired man's charming grin fell instantly and he glared beneath his glasses," shut up you-"

⟢ nanami kento ␥

"Yes, your daughter got into a fight with one of the boys and managed to split his lip." The teacher gestured to the little girl in the chair who was sitting oh so politely.

Nanami hummed lowly, brows furrowed," not good." He said with that disappointed drawl to his tone that could make anybody curl into themselves with shame, his own daughter cringing to herself.

You merely raised a brow at your daughter," That right? So she won?" You asked bluntly.

A warm hand settled on your knee, squeezing lovingly and as a warning," not the point, love." Nanami grunted out disapprovingly.

The girl grinned with her cute gap-tooth, blue eyes glinting with pride as she looked to her mother," I won!!" She chirped," he pulled my hair so I split his lip!"

Her parents stared on in silence before Nanami gave her a small smile filled with warmth," Good girl."

⟢ ryomen sukuna ␥

"Your daughter punched Midori-"

Sukuna held up a hand," Don't need to hear it. Let's go." He began to stand up, tugging his little girl by the hood of her hoodie.

You shook your head in disapproval at your husband and looked to the teacher," I'm sorry, can you give me more context?"

Sukuna scoffed," Babe. Its obviously about that rich kid again. The little shit who bullies her? Yeah. Don't give a fuck. I'm proud of my fuckin' daughter." He glared at the teacher and walked out of the room with his daughter following anxiously behind.

Your eye twitched before you stood up slowly, offering a pained smile to lighten the load," well, you heard the man. Thanks." You left as well, not before tugging on your husband's ear like a mother and giving your girl a kiss on the forehead and a promise of ice cream.

Sukuna crouched down to her level and pinched his daughter's cheek with a bored expression, eyes glinting in amusement at the sight of her nose scrunching up at the actions," Next time? Put her through endless torture and misery. I can teach you a few techniques--"

You had to step in before your husband created a potential serial killer.

⟢ fushiguro toji ␥

"Megumi got into a fight aga-"

Toji let out an obnoxiously loud yawn, wiping away the sleepy dust from his eyes as his wife fretted over their son's messy black hair.

"Ugh, I swear your hair drives me crazy, Megs. You definitely didn't get it from my genes." You muttered as you tried to smooth out the strands.

Megumi merely sighed and pushed your hands away with an uncomfortable frown etched onto his face," Mom. Listen to Mrs. Fiyumi." He scolded lightly.

"I am, I am." You whined to him, turning to face the teacher with a frown on your lips.

"You too, dad."

Toji blinked at his son before scoffing," I was, I was." He let out a fatherly grunt as he sat straight in his chair, large hand resting on your thigh as he did, looking to the teacher in boredom.

The teacher cleared her throat, giving the small child a thankful nod for keeping his parents in check," As I was saying, little Megumi got into a fight with a boy yesterday. This behaviour seems very unlike him, so I was just worried if there's anything going on at home lately that's stressing him out?"

Megumi's brows furrowed but he didn't open his mouth, sitting politely in his chair. You hummed," Well, I suppose he hasn't been getting a good amount of sleep lately. But that's all I can think of." You settled a hand on your husband's that was caressing your thigh gently.

Toji hummed," just apologise, Megs. An' we'll be on our way." He grumbled to his son, waving his free hand dismissively.

Megumi cleared his throat and stood up, bowing to his teacher, which shocked her a little," I'm sorry, Mrs. Fiyumi. I won't hit anyone again." When he stood to his full-height, he looked her straight in the eye," I hope your failed marriage is getting better." He stated in such a polite and genuine manner.

Toji bursted out laughing - cackling like a witch whilst you stared at your son in complete horror, tugging his hair scoldingly.

[sytoran]

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 | n.romanoff

you visit the strip club downtown with your co-workers to let off some steam, but it seems like you've caught the eye of none other than the 'black widow'.

🖤 pairing: sub!stripper!natasha x fem!cop!reader

🖤 word count: 3145

🖤 note: SMUT (18+), this one been marinating in my drafts like im preserving wine

main m.list | AO3

You don’t know why you let your co-workers drag you to a strip club on a Friday night, but you’re sure as hell not complaining.

There are plenty of women, everywhere. Women in bikinis, women in stockings, women in thigh garters. You're in wonderland, honestly.

Hey, cops needed to let off some steam too, okay?

The cheers and hoots surround your table as Carol gets a lap dance by a brunette stripper. The blonde woman is blushing – you didn’t know she could do that – but she’s having the time of her life.

As Carol slides a bill between the stripper's tits with no lack of embarrassment, you laugh and get up to go get another drink.

It wasn't an overly rare occasion for you to be letting loose, but it was infrequent enough that your co-workers quite physically hauled you to this adult entertainment facility after a particularly taxing case.

ULTRAVIOLET was the most popular strip club in Queens, New York City. They served both men and women, with sparkling reviews about customer service and atmospheric aesthetics.

Carol, Valkyrie, and Maria would simply not shut up about the 'Black Widow', who was supposedly the sexiest, most stunning stripper any of them had ever laid their eyes on.

"She fuckin' looked at me in the eye," Valkyrie had moaned on a Monday morning, speaking of this stripper they so revered. "I can't look at anyone the same no more." 

You were about to make a quick-witted retort about Valkyrie’s dramatization of mere eye contact, but Maria had only nodded solemnly in agreement and you had to admit you didn’t take Maria’s judgment lightly.

Aside from the talk about the Black Widow, you were hit with the novelty of the strip club once you stepped foot within.

As the Commanding Officer of the New York City Police Department, 104th Precinct, the boundless freeness of this place was quite a sight to behold. What with the heavy music, and the beer-tinged scent of the air, and nude women – the sensory overload did wonders to take your mind off work.

"You here alone?"

You spin on the barstool at the sound of a sultry voice. You have to physically stop your jaw from dropping to the floor at the sight of a breathtakingly gorgeous woman.

Scantily clad in matching sequined undergarments and fishnet stockings, stands a redheaded woman leaning against the bar counter, looking at you with magnificent green eyes.

"I'm not alone- I mean, not in that way, because I'm just here with friends. Well, co-workers, but they're my friends as well-"

Splendid job, Deputy Inspector Y/N L/N, you say internally. You can look in the eye of murderers and terrorists, but one look at a pretty woman and you're fuckin' gone.

"You're cute," the lady interrupts with a small tilt of her head, saving you from digging your own grave further.

You swallow harshly, feeling her manicured nails trace the curvature of your bicep. 

"Just cute?" you ask, trying not to sound too hopeful. Her fingers move down to the collar of your white shirt, fiddling with the fabric. Call it stupidity, but you feel the urge to reciprocate the contact. You move your hands to her hips.

The lady smirks. "Hm, maybe not just cute. But I think you need to show me." 

The redhead hasn't broken eye-contact all the while. Your eyes feel like they're burning. You slide your left hand down to the hem of her panties, and tug slightly. When her panties snap against her skin, she jolts with the impact.

You smirk with victory, pulling her in by her waist so your mouth is pressed against her skin. "I'll show you," you murmur, kissing the warm with a fervour you didn't know you possessed. 

The woman's breath hitches and she pulls your head closer. You accept the invitation, beginning to leave a hickey on the sensitive spot of her neck.

After a few moments of your concentrated work on her neck, the woman finally lets out a sigh-turned-moan of pleasure, and you nearly pass out from how sexy it is.

She tugs your head away and pulls you in by the collar for a kiss. Your eyelids flutter close.

Your quavering breaths meet in a frantic harmony, and you want to explore her mouth, but she ends it as quickly as it begins.

"What's your name?" the redhead asks, warm breath on your lips. "Y/N," you say hoarsely, trying and failing not to sound like you were left high and dry. 

You slide your hands to the bare skin of her torso, silently delighting in the way it raises goosebumps. You need to get more of her, feel more of her. "Do I get to know your name?" you ask.

The lights in the strip club suddenly dim, and the music takes on a far more sensual tone. 

The woman slides out of your grasp like sand falling through your fingertips, and you're left with the ghost of her burning embrace. Your question remains unanswered.

"Let's give it up for our next dancer," the bar owner says into his mic, and the noise dramatically fades away. "The Black Widow!"

Blue and violet lights dance in your vision as the woman who had kissed you just moments before, approaches the stage, hips swaying in time to the music. 

Your eyes narrow, and you down the bourbon in one shot. You'd need it.

When the beat drops, The Black Widow throws her head back and she begins to move.

God, it's criminally sensual, the way she danced, unlike anything you'd ever seen before. You couldn't put into words the allure she possessed.

The redheaded woman runs a hand over her own skin, dipping into every curve, as the music crescendos, and you know you're not the only patron with their heart thrumming in their chest.

When she begins twirling on the pole, you see men clearing out a month's paycheck for this divine woman, and honestly? You don't blame them.

Money gets flung onto the stage and catcalls get yelled as perhaps the most erotic scene unfolds before your very eyes.

When The Black Widow lifts up a thigh to show off her tight stockings, you're unable to hold back any longer, drawn to the stage like a moth to a flame.

Sitting back down into your original seat, leaving the empty glass of bourbon behind, all else fades away. Your world stumbles on its axis as the woman makes her way over to you, running a hand through her luscious locks of hair.

Your mouth dries up as The Black Widow turns around in front of you and fully bends over, exposing the delicious curve of her ass. You sink back into your seat, bringing two fingers to your lips in silent contemplation. Internally, you're fighting the goddamned World War II with your libido.

She's still swaying in beat to the music, and spins around as the sound of a saxophone starts playing. The last thing you see is a playful wink from the gorgeous woman before an ample asset of tits covers your vision.

Fuck, you're not going to survive.

Your nose quite literally gets buried between her tits as the woman climbs onto you. You would pay to see your co-workers' faces right now. How would you ever face them at work again?

“Get it, Y/N!” you hear Maria call in the distance, and a shrill whistle follows. 

You smirk against the pair of tits in your face, inhaling the scent of her perfume, and her sweat, and simlply her. You let the stripper work her magic.

After a few more minutes of your paradise, she pulls away, skin flushed. 

You regard her with a darkened gaze, pulling out your wallet. You stuff a bill in the side of her thong, making sure to snap the fabric in the same spot as you had previously.

The woman's face flickers in recognition. She shakes her head, then dips her head down to whisper in your ear.

"11pm. Room 8. Private session. Don't be late."

Like it was planned, the music comes to an end. The redhead doesn't wait for your response before she gets off your lap, raising her arm in acknowledgement of the roaring cheers. Her hips sway as she walks away from you, and you don’t even pretend that your eyes are glued to her curves.

Money gets thrown onto the stage once again, all in hopes of earning a fraction of what you had just experienced. 

"Holy shit, Y/N, what was that?" Carol yells at you over the noise, slapping your back. You shrug plainly with a stupid smug smirk as Valkyrie whines in jealousy. 

Oh, you were so fucking ready for 11pm.

.

"A private, fuckin' session for Deputy Inspector Y/N fucking L/N. Who would'a thought," Carol slurs, banging a shot glass onto the round table.

You roll your eyes at Carol's dramatization. It wasn't as if your status as Commanding Officer steered women away from you – in fact, some of them were quite into it.

But for your prevalently horny friends who had women over just about every week, you were considered starved of sweet pussy and were in dire need of quenching that thirst.

So when you broke the news that the most sought-after stripper in the most famous strip club in Queens, had just offered you a private session, lo and behold the chaos that ensued.

"Shit, girl, I would get down on my knees for that lady. You are one lucky bastard," Valkyrie adds in, ruffling your hair as you grumble. 

"You'd get down on your knees for any woman, actually," Maria says, the usually composed woman more laid back in the environment of the strip club. Or maybe it was the alcohol.

Valkyrie lets out an aggrieved noise, sitting up to whack Maria's arm, but in her drunken state she misses and slaps Carol's drink out of her hands. 

"Oi!" The blonde cries out indignantly, looking at the drink that had splattered onto her clothing. 

Carol grabs Maria's martini out of her hands and throws it at Valkyrie in retaliation.

Before you know it, your three idiot friends have gotten temporarily suspended from the strip club for 'causing a ruckus'.

Just like that, and the clock ticks down to eleven o’clock.

.

It’s 11pm, and you're overly aware of your police badge at your belt and your gun in your holster.

Or at least, you were, until Natasha swung one leg across your lap and sat herself down with an unspoken grace, effectively sitting on your lap. In the privacy of the enclosed room, you unashamedly stare down at her cleavage, eyes several hues darker than they were before.

“See something you like?” Natasha asks breathily, running her hands over her full breasts, pushing them up to elicit a reaction from you.

The moving lights in the dark room cast shadows, and when you back look up with a sinful smirk and half-lidded eyes, Natasha swears she feels herself get wet.

All the air in your lungs dissipates when Natasha begins grinding on your thigh in beat to the music, hips moving skilfully in the sexiest fashion imaginable. 

Fuck, this woman was going to be your demise.

Your hands feel like they’re on fire as you watch her put on a show, simply aching to move and touch. Natasha trails her fingertips down your tensed arms, running over the curve of your biceps. She smirks at the goosebumps it raises, her hands dwelling to the edge of your pants.

Your breath catches as her fingers find the outline of your police badge tucked underneath your shirt. The Black Widow looks up at you, expression a no-tell. “You on duty?”

“Nope.”

“Is that why you’ve got a gun in your belt?”

“Nah, that one’s just for pretty girls like you,” you respond slowly, hands tentatively going to rest on her thighs. When the smirk reappears on the stripper's face, you relax and let your shoulders untense.

“If you say so, officer,” she comments huskily, leaning forward to nip at your earlobe. The shiver runs through your bones. 

You’re about to counter with a quick retort of your own before Natasha begins grinding on that bulge in your pants, treating your gun like it was a strap.

“Shit,” you say breathlessly, hands burning at being unable to touch. Behind your back, your nails were digging into your palms so hard you swore you had already drawn blood.

Fuck, it was torture. 

Her pretty moans and breathy whines ring in your ears as she moves her hips roughly, a torment to your demise.

After a while, you come to the realisation that you can feel how wet Natasha is through her undergarments, soaked from having just dry-humped your thigh.

“Fuck me,” she says, and your throat dries up. “What?” you ask, dazedly, still staring at her bouncing tits in front of your face.

“I said, fuck me,” Natasha repeats, head tilting to the side, halting all her movements so you would look at her.

You splutter. “But the sign said–”

“What can I say, officer, you wanna make me break the rules.”

That’s all the confirmation you need before your hands can finally touch her, finally, meeting and warm skin and sweat droplets and everything you’d ever wanted. 

You let out a huff of amusement as Natasha wraps her pretty lips around your fingers and sucks, making lewd noises with her tongue. Your ears burn, now, having been tainted with the beautiful symphony of this woman’s pleasure.

“You’re very naughty,” you comment, your other hand slipping under her top to reach her full breasts. Palming at the mounds in your hand, you face moves to the bare skin of her collarbone and begin kissing it.

“Don’t make marks,” Natasha says breathlessly, when you let your teeth nick the soft skin there, and there’s a pit of desire in your stomach that growls in frustration, but you know you have to respect her wishes and instead move your mouth down to her chest.

Natasha doesn’t remember when you slipped off her bra, but she isn’t complaining about your haste and instead throws her head back when your mouth latches onto her breasts.

“Mhm, that feels good,” she moans, weaving her fingers through your hair and scratching at your scalp. You hum in acknowledgement against her flushed skin, your tongue paying special attention to her hardened buds.

When both your hands move to the underside of her thighs and lift her up, Natasha lets out an embarrassing squeak at the sudden change of position. But as you lay her down on the sofa with your body weight pressing into hers, those whimpers turn into filthy moans.

You stall for a moment, hovering above her with your silver necklace dangling right above her face. She looks so pretty like this, her hair all splayed out, the sheen of sweat on her skin making her look tantalizing.

Natasha catches your swinging necklace between her teeth, winking seductively at you, and you’re snapped out of your moment, a laugh taking over.

“Have I told you that you’re incredibly bad?” you say, in between kisses scattered between her breasts, down her sternum and to her stomach. 

“You- you have,” Natasha replies with some difficulty, as your kisses get lower and lower. “Maybe you should punish me for it, officer;” 

She shuts up when you slowly spread open her thighs, revealing the dripping heat that is Natasha’s cunt. You maintain eye contact with her as you lower your mouth to her pussy, her lust-filled stare making your head spin.

When your tongue meets her cunt, it was game over.

“Fuck,” Natasha moans, already unable to continue looking at you in the eye, hands moving to grip the cushion of the sofa. Her thighs clamp around your head, and you’re suffocating, but in a way that feels so good you could die in bliss.

You lap at her dripping cunt like you were starving, like you would die without it. Natasha’s moans get louder. You move your mouth in rocking motions, pushing your tongue further in with each thrust. 

“More,” she gasps out, and you quicken your pace, fingertips digging bruises into her plush thighs. In retrospect, you don’t remember how long you stay there, ravenously eating her out like your life depended on it. 

When you feel her breathing get faster and more shallow, breathy little whines that get louder and louder, and you know she’s about to cum.

Instead of gently bringing her to a high, you internally say fuck it and decide that if this was the one chance you had, with the most sought-after stripper in Queens, you were going to make it an unforgettable one.

You move your mouth up to wrap your lips around her swollen, throbbing clit, and you suck on it, hard. In tandem with that, you easily slide two fingers in, curling them inside her to hit that sweet spot. Natasha positively screams, and you swear it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

Her orgasm floods the lower half of your face and your fingers, and the little mewls of your name Natasha lets out as she comes down from her high is one you’d always remember.

Finally, you emerge from between Natasha’s thighs. Slowly, you kiss up her stomach and her breasts, up the way you came down from, and you meet Natasha’s blissed out face.

You take a moment to take in her tousled hair, her swollen kissable-pink lips, her smudged makeup, her shallow gasps for air, and the pure lust in her eyes.

Just like that, and another jolt of arousal hits you. Before you can act on it, Natasha pulls you into a messy kiss, hot and sweaty.

“You look so fucking good-” Natasha says in between the frantic meeting of your mouths. “With my cum all over your jaw.” 

You bite back a growl at her words, wanting to let her know just how exactly good you can make her cum. Natasha catches your hand that slides down to her wet cunt, before bringing it up and placing a kiss on your fingertips. “Our time is up,” she whispers, nodding to the clock behind you that now reads 11.31pm. “One private session lasts 30 minutes.”

This woman was going to be the death of you.

You turn back to The Black Widow with dilated pupils, slowly reaching into your pocket for that leather Saint Laurent wallet, and the ghost of a smirk on your lips.

In the wee hours of twilight the next day, you leave the strip club with your wallet emptied, a searing cramp in your hand, and the memory of an unforgettable woman whose real name you hadn’t even known.

Boy, you had one hell of a story to tell your friends. 

i think i'm not gonna taglists anymore, sorry yall. there's just so many usernames and i have to constantly update it :(

main m.list | AO3

[bbydoll18xx]

Spike Me, Baby, One More Time

Paige Bueckers x fem!volleyball player

Based on this request: Can I request like fem! Volleyball player reader x paige? Like Paige and the team getting so excited for the volleyball game and watching her star vball girlfriend play? And even like a post game party or just something cute and domestic!! Smut or not smut, idc!!! Thank you I love your writing!!!

Themes: some suggestiveness, fluff, proud!Paige

Word Count: 1.2k

---------------------------------------------------------------

“Guys, hurry the fuck up. The game is starting soon,” Paige grits out impatiently. She is gesturing wildly toward the doors of the arena, where you were soon playing. Paige Bueckers generally did not care much about being early to things, but she did not want to miss a single second of watching you destroy your opponents. Your mild disposition was shattered on the volleyball court, making you absolutely ruthless. 

And Paige fucking loved it. 

She and several of UCONN’s women’s basketball team were coming to your game, and you were looking forward to seeing their obnoxious signs and hearing their loud hoots of support. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought. You had a family in Paige and her teammates, and just as you loved to support them, the feeling was mutual. 

As you step out onto the court, taking a deep breath to quell the nervous energy bubbling up inside your chest, you hear several people over the roar of the crowd. Craning your head toward the bellows, you see Paige, standing beside KK and Ice. They were jumping, waving their arms in a way that had bystanders rolling their eyes in annoyance. A grin emerges on your face, and all the pre-game anxiety vanishes. 

The game begins, and you’re locked in. Similarly to how you are with Paige, the world fades away into nothingness. Nothing else exists except you, the ball, and the overwhelming desire to win. 

A few times throughout the game, you lock eyes with Paige, feeling her encouragement, and the gratification hits you like a drug, fueling you through the end. The game ends with you spiking the ball ferociously, and the stadium erupts in deafening cheers as the ball slams against the floor. 

You yell out ecstatically, jumping into the arms of your teammates and spinning in the confetti that was falling. Life felt pretty fuckin’ good. 

Once you are changed out of your sweaty uniform, you leap out of the locker room, nearly running straight into Paige. 

“Stalker, much?” You tease, a giant smirk plastered on your face.

“Duh, I’m your biggest fan, baby,” Paige quips, and she was wearing an equally smug look.

“For real, though. Thank you guys for coming. Means a lot,” You beam, looking up between your blonde girlfriend and the two younger girls standing at her side. 

“Be for real. Like we would miss it!” KK declares solemnly, Ice nodding her head in agreement. 

“I think my roommates are throwing a celebratory party in our apartment. You guys down?” You ask, already knowing their answers. No one was going to turn down free alcohol and a chance to be a little crazy. 

~

Paige was fucking plastered. And you were loving it. So was every other person crammed into your apartment for the party. 

“Babyyy, give me a kiss. I love you so much,” Paige whines, smushing her lips up in a dramatic pout. You giggle, your cheeks pink between the alcohol and your girlfriend’s declarations of love. You peck her on the lips to appease her, but she pulls you in by the waist, anchoring your mouth to hers.

The alcohol in your veins, paired with the delicious taste of victory, created an irresistible desire to just let go. Climbing further onto Paige’s lap, you can feel the muscles of her thighs tense under you, and you let out a quiet moan into the slick heat of her mouth. No one hears it except for Paige, and it goes straight between her legs. 

“Whoa, y’all might wanna cool it on the PDA,” you hear over the blasting of the music. You pull away from Paige to see Ice standing over the two of you with a slightly repulsed expression covering her face. You’d think she would be used to the two of you by now, but you know she was only being protective. 

“Just proud of my girl,” Paige retorts, looking at you on her lap with a fond smile. A new wave of butterflies erupts in your belly, and you attempt to scooch closer into her. Ignoring everyone around you once more, including your own friends, you lean back into her and connect your lips again in a passionate embrace. 

You tug at her blonde locks, for once free from the confines of her usual updos and braids, and Paige lets out a groan at the sensation. Your head feels fuzzy from the lustful sounds, suddenly wanting all the people to leave so you could enjoy your girlfriend fully. 

“Wanna go back to yours?” You mumble in her ear, quickly starting to feel desperate. 

Paige pulls back, sighing with a regretful look on her face. “Course I do. But we should stay. I miss my old teammates, and you will, too.”

The honesty was surprising, but it made you realize that you had all the time in the world to kiss Paige.

“Fine,” you whine, somewhat childishly. “But as soon as all these people leave, I’m having my way with you.”

“Good,” Paige mutters. Her desire for you hadn’t waned, and she didn’t think it would. She could survive a few more hours of loud music and polite conversation before following you to your bedroom and fucking you into oblivion. 

And she did. Barely.

The rest of the evening, Paige watched you with such intensity. She was obsessed with every little thing about you. The way your nose scrunched when you laughed. The pink in your cheeks. And the way you licked your lips seductively in her direction after taking a drink from the cup in your hand. 

KK and Ice had left, and as the party began winding down, Paige grew more and more needy. While you were high off of the victory, she was high off of you. And it had been too long since her last hit. Showing an incredible amount of restraint, Paige hides behind her cup, watching you dance around in the center of the room. You make eye contact, from where she is sitting on the couch, and you don’t miss the ways her eyes darken. Her pupils are blown wide with lust, and her widespread legs are beckoning you to come take your rightful place in between them. 

You march over to her, plopping down on her lap once more, loudly stating that the party has ended. The last few stragglers, get the hint, and begin to move towards the door. With some help from your roommates/teammates, the apartment quickly clears out, leaving you with Paige and the soft pumping of whatever Drake song was seductively playing through the speakers. 

You gaze at her, lids heavy with desire, to see those blue eyes staring right back at you with equal intensity.

“Can you fuck me now, baby?” You whisper, your voice husky with want. 

Paige lets out a dark chuckle, and pulls you into her. “Only if you leave that jersey on for me.”

Your heart jumps into your throat. “Deal,” you affirm, pulling her towards your bedroom.

[syluslnd]

Hi! We would like to ask for a post about children with ms and silus. Imagine that MC and Sylus already have 3 sons and their little girl is born. And the sons and Sylus can't move away for a second. And Mc jokingly teases Sylus and her sons. But at the same time, she is very happy to cuddle her little daughter once again. You can also add twins, that with such a father and 3 older brothers, it is unlikely that she will find a husband, to which Silus and his sons say that she does not need any boyfriend and they themselves will be able to protect their baby. 🌸❤️

I apologize for my poor English. 🙂‍↕️

sylus & your sons being clingy

The house was never quiet these days—not with a newborn, three sons who seemed to have an endless supply of energy and a husband who was just as protective of you as the day you met. If anything, Sylus seemed to have doubled up on his overprotective streak since your daughter’s birth.

You finally slipped away to the nursery, hoping for a moment to yourself as you checked on your daughter, her tiny hand curled up against her cheek as she slept.

But as usual, you weren’t alone for long. Sylus appeared in the doorway with a smirk and seconds later your teenager and your preteen all filed in one after another, crowding around you.

“Don’t you guys ever give me a moment’s peace?” you teased, turning around to find them grinning back at you.

“Not a chance, sweetheart” Sylus said smoothly, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Besides, you don’t really want us to leave you alone, do you?”

Now the twins like and kieran exchanged their usual mischievous glances and your preteen and teen just shrugged with a smile. You rolled your eyes, amused and touched all at once by how clingy they all were.

Looking down at your daughter, you joked, “She’s in for it, you know? With all of you around, it’s going to be hell for her to get a boyfriend one day.”

Sylus’s hand around your waist tightened, his expression shifting instantly to mock-seriousness. “Boyfriend? She won’t ever have a boyfriend.” He looked over at your sons, eyebrows raised. “Right, boys?”

They’re always quick to play along they crossed their arms and nodded solemnly. “Right. Boyfriend? Not happening.”

Your teen not missing a beat, chimed in, “If a guy even tries, we’ll be there. First date? Chaperoned and by chaperoned, I mean interrogated.”

your preteen grinned, looking from Sylus to his brothers and back to you. “She’s covered, Mom. There’s no way anyone’s getting past us.”

You laughed, shaking your head at the overprotective chorus of agreement. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Sylus grinned, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Maybe so but we’ll keep her safe.”

Your teen and preteen glanced at each other with a smirk. “Hey, when do you think Dad’s going to put an ad out for applications for a ‘bodyguard squad’ for her first day of school?”

Kieran snorted. “Already ahead of him. I’m working on the interview questions right now. First question: ‘What’s your bench press?’ Second question: ‘How fast can you run away if you think you’re in trouble?’”

You laughed, playfully pushing Kieran back. “You two are going to scare her to death with your antics” you said, shaking your head.

Sylus squeezed you a little closer, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he looked down at you. “Oh, she’ll be fine. Just like her mom, she’ll handle all of us just fine.”

With a contented sigh, you turned back to your sleeping daughter, feeling the warmth of your family around you, their protectiveness just as strong as their love. It wasn’t peace and quiet but you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

[strnsvt]

yoon jeonghan — pineapple's kiss and dad's wisdom.

dad!jeonghan ; mom!reader

jeonghan was greeted by the sound of laughter echoing through the house. a smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he kicked off his shoes, the familiar warmth of home enveloping him.

making his way into the living room, he found you and ara sitting on the couch, your faces lit up with joy.

"what's all this laughter about?" jeonghan asked, kissing you and ara on the cheek before settling onto the carpeted floor, leaning his back against the couch, loosening his tie.

"go on, tell your papa what happened at school today," you prompted.

ara's laughter bubbled over as she leaned forward, eager to share her story with her father. "pineapple kissed me on the cheek!"

jeonghan's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "pineapple kissed you on the cheek?" he repeated.

you nodded, adding "a boy in her class, she calls him pineapple cause he looks like one,"

jeonghan's eyebrows furrowed in bemusement, "first of all, how does one look like a pineapple?" he stammered, trying to wrap his head around the peculiar nickname.

"and secondly," he continued, his tone shifting to a more serious one, "you can't let a boy just kiss you like that, ara. you need to set boundaries,"

you nodded in agreement, placing a comforting hand on ara's shoulder. "your papa's right, ara. it's important to respect yourself and make sure others respect you too."

"i know, ma, papa. but i like him. and i liked when he kissed me. just like how you kiss ma,"

jeonghan sighs. his heart softening at ara's innocent nonetheless. "ara, sweetheart," he began gently, "i'm married to your ma, which is why we can do things like kiss each other. but for you, you're still very young,"

"that's right, honey. when you're older, you'll understand more about relationships and what's appropriate," you say, offering a small smile.

jeonghan paused, his thoughts swirling as he considered how to proceed. he recalled ara's innocent confusion about the concept of boyfriends, and he didn't want to inadvertently introduce more confusion into her young mind so he avoides using that word.

"ara," he began, "see, papa will be very upset if you allow a boy to kiss you," he says, his tone soft yet very firm.

ara glanced at you and then jeonghan as she nodded solemnly with a smile, "ok ma, papa. i'll listen," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

jeonghan's heart swelled with pride as he reached out to gently ruffle ara's hair. "that's my girl," he said softly, a warm smile gracing his lips.

as bedtime approached, jeonghan lifted ara onto his back, ready to give her a piggyback ride to her room. ara giggled with delight, wrapping her arms around her father's neck as they made their way down the hallway.

once ara was tucked into bed and drifting off to sleep, jeonghan returned to your room, he noticed you chuckling to yourself, a mischievous glint in your eye.

"what?" jeonghan asked, his brow raised in confusion as he undos the buttons on his wrist.

"it was just a kiss, jeonghan," you replied playfully, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you watched him.

jeonghan chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "i know, i know," he said, his tone light and affectionate. "but you know how protective i can get when it comes to our little girl. she's five. she doesn't need a boyfriend,"

"boyfriend? do you think she knows even the meaning of it?"

"she doesn't. that's why i avoided using that word infront of her," jeonghan smiles, scoffing, "pineapple," he muttered, the corners of his lips curling up into a fond smile.

you chuckle too, "that was the nickname me and my friends had for you,"

"huh? when?"

"when i was crushing on you, of course,"

jeonghan's eyes widened in surprise at your revelation. "pineapple? really?" he asked, a mixture of amusement and curiosity evident in his tone.

you nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. "yeah, it was just a silly nickname we came up with," you explained, your cheeks flushing slightly at the memory. "but it's funny how things come full circle, isn't it?"

jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head in fond disbelief. "i never would have guessed," he admitted, his gaze lingering on you with newfound warmth. "but i'm glad you stopped calling me that."

you grinned, reaching out to playfully poke his arm. "well, you'll always be my pineapple," you teased, a hint of affection in your voice.

[charles-leclerizz]

🏎️ ๋࣭ ⭑ cat-quette

🏁 Pairings : Max vertsappen X fem! Reader

🏁 Warnings : fluffy as hell, suggestive language and one suggestive scene.

🏁 Word Count : 2.7k words (2742 words)

🏁 Summary : Sometimes, a family of 4 needs just one more addition, so you and your boyfriend venture out to find the perfect new daughter

🏁 translations via radio comm below

🏁 credits : word dividers by @gigittamic

🏁 Music player : Winter blossom by Dept, Ashley blossom, nobody like you pat

“Come on Maxie, please” You draw at the syllable at the end of your plea, dancing in your spot in your shared kitchen, “Imagine it, you, me, jimmy, sassy and a third cat, we could name it, kibble or something.”

Max looked at you with a worried expression, one brow arched in questioning, “Kibble?” He continued to knead the bread dough in front of him, slamming his hands into the mixture that sat fluffy and aerated on your marble counter, “You just demonstrated why we can’t get a third cat, you’re gonna make it depressed in the first 2 days.”

“Now that’s mean.” You cross your arms over and harrumph, going over to the stove to stir the searing vegetables in the pan.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him wash his hands free of the dough that remained on his fingers before going back to the olive oil doused ball and placing it into a wooden bowl, he then laid a fresh white cloth over the dough and transferred it into the fridge for it to rise for about 40 minutes.

You then felt his presence behind you, then you felt his hands snake around your waist and then his head followed suit, nuzzling into your neck before placing a soft kiss on your skin, “I’m sorry schat.” He mumbled, tickling your ear with his soft tufts of blonde hair.

“Y’know,” You paused briefly in between your enraged sauteing, stainless steel spatula in the air, “I don’t think you are.”

“But I reeeaaallly am.” He copied your elongated whine, shifting the two of you by guiding you side to side, oscillating gently as though you were the dough and he was trying to knead the forgiveness out of you, “How about this..” he started, laughing inwardly when your ears perked up and you attempted to discreetly turn off the gas so you could spin in his hold. Looping your arms around his neck you prompted him to continue, “We could go to the pet shop tomorrow.” He murmured, looking up into the air, despite your vice like grip on his head as though the particles would answer him and not your already giddy form in front of him.

“Yeah?” You danced slightly in his hold, wiggling your hips like a hyper child, “You promise?”

“You can drive pista if I forget.” He nodded solemnly.

“Oh shit-“ You lean back, impressed with his dedication, “You really are sorry”

“dat is alles wat nodig is?” He blubbers, eyes wide for dramatic effect, as you would like to call it, “Your standards are low, real low my love.”

You furrow your brows, playfully hitting the underside of his head before leaning up to kiss his grimaced lips, "What else is new? How else do you think this happened?” You gestured between the two of you.

Max hummed, leaning down to kiss your cheek before trailing down to your jaw, he grinned against you when your breath hitched and you pulled him closer, if that was possible, “I wooed you?” He tried; you snorted in response.

“Yeah, you wooed the heck out of me, yee old Maximillian Verstappen, one foul scowl at me and bam four years later here we are.”

You yelped when he bit your neck.

“Hmm, I’m just so so handsome?” He couldn’t hold his laugh back at this claim.

“I first met you when you were a scrawny 18-year-old, but yes, you are very handsome.” you coo at him whilst caressing his face.

Max hummed in agreement, “I know.”

“You’re not going to compliment me?” You asked.

“Hmm…nope.” He shrugged.

You gaped at him for a beat before lunging at his face and taking the soft skin of his cheek between your teeth, holding it there and growling playfully. Max yelped and laughed at your pseudo-attack before pushing you away and taking your lips captive with his as revenge, “You’re much prettier than me geliefde.” He added before his tongue slipped between your lips.

“Max... the food” You helplessly remind him when he finally detaches from you, only to lift you into his arms and move to the left to sit you down onto the counter, slotting himself in between your pliantly open thighs you draw him closer despite your objections.

“Fuck the food...” He murmurs against your ear, kissing behind it and trailing his mouth lower and lower until he reached your baby blue, silk camisole. Max looks up at you briefly, his bottom lip just barely breaching the collar of your flowy top, you stare down at him eyes heavy and threatening to flutter closed with every hot breath of his that fanned over your chest.

You bring one hand away from his neck to drag down his face, your middle finger just barely anchored on his mouth, pulling down his lip until he stopped your journey south and took the soft digit into his mouth, “Yeah, that sounds fair.” You breathed out, already jumping back into his embrace, preparing yourself to slam the bedroom door closed with a breathless laugh.

“You forgot, didn’t you?” You ask him, plugging in your hairdryer and drawing out a large barrelled round brush from the containers that sat on your counter. The bathroom door was wide open as you waited expectantly for Max to emerge from the walk-in closet on the opposite side of the room, the only divider being your bed and a half-length wall.

“What? What did I forget?” Your boyfriend looked down at his phone, waiting for a calendar event to remind him, when that didn’t happen, he looked up at you.

You remained still, just flicking on the contraption in your hands and drowning out his obliviousness with the sound of luke-warm air drying your hair.

“Babe?” he tried once.

“Babe?” He tried again.

“Babe?”

You finally snapped, large brush still wrapped in your hair as your hand pressed your silky strands into the bristles and hair sprayed the volume into it, “Max, you’re shitting me, right? That’s it, keys to the pista.” You ordered, tapping your nail against the counter space next to you.

That’s when the realisation hit the driver in front of you, his face blanched and he rushed up to you, “See, I didn’t forget I conveniently played stupid?” He tried; eyes slightly lit up with hope.

“You’re right-“ You start, snorting at the badly veiled victorious expression on his face, “You are stupid.”

By this point, Max had reached the threshold of the bathroom and had slumped forward, the only thing stopping him from face-planting the expensive tiled floor were his hands braced on the doorframe, “Not the pista, baby, anything else.”

“What about one of your Aston Martins ?,” You faced him, tearing your eyes away from your reflection in the large mirror ahead.

Max’s face fell at the mention of his beloved collection of Aston’s, “Okay, so maybe we take the Pista…”

You pouted at him, swiping on a generous amount of pink lip-gloss, “I knew I should’ve been on top last night.”

The rollers in your hair fell one by one as you undid them, smiling cheekily to yourself when Max choked on his own spit, “What’s that meant to mean?”

“Don’t ask questions, that you don’t want to know the answers to.” You pass by him in the doorway, pinching his cheeks together and pecking him quickly on his duck-lips.

“So it’s the Pista?” He hollered from his place, craning his neck to where you had turned into the closet.

He heard you snort, and the rustling of fabric before you answered him, “It’s the most expensive Aston Martin you own!”

You ended up taking the pista.

But your resignation was soon vindicated when you broke the speed limits the whole drive from your apartment to the best pet store in the city.

“Heer, red mij” Max prayed, hand braced on the ceiling of the sports car as your heeled foot pressed even harder onto the accelerator, the car purred happily whilst you cruised along the mountain road, the view of the crashing waves almost therapeutic, until the serene scene was broken with a-

“BEN JE NET 150 KM/U BREKEN? HOE?” A shaky finger followed promptly afterwards, tapping the speedometer a few times.

You blow a nonchalant breath through your lips, “You’re a formula one driver Maxie, why are you so scared?”

“We don’t normally drive like hooligans, it’s precise and practise-“

You interrupted his rant by miraculously increasing your pace and speeding down the empty highway ahead, Max slammed one hand against the window as an ungodly screech erupted from the 3-time world champion.

Safe to say, you arrived at the pet store in a safe condition.

Never mind that Max had rushed out of the passenger’s seat to press a kiss to the hood of the car, before running to a few nearby bushes and attempting to uproot his breakfast.

Though, with no such luck of evacuating the contents of his stomach, he waddled over to where you stood unimpressed albeit also concerned to knit your hands together, pecking your forehead a few times he allowed you to guide him into the shop.

“Oh my god Maxie, look!” You squealed, rushing up to the large glass display of a dozen or so hamsters, the various coloured furballs rolled around the spacious enclosure as you cooed down at them.

Max bent down as well, but soon caught eye of the “HALF OFF” sign and stood straight, “’M not sure geliefde, maybe not hamsters, jimmy, and sassy like the taste of em.”

You nodded once, wrenching your gaze away from one of the hamsters that you had already grown fond off to hold your boyfriend’s hand once more, “You could be less crude about it.” You mumble inwardly.

“You’re telling me, about being crude.” He scoffed down at you before looping his arms around your neck and tucking you into his side.

The pair of you continued to walk around the retail, swerving into and out of isles whilst browsing each selection of pet that could potentially enter your home.

Max had to continuously drag you away from the more exotic selection that there was on display, that was after you had convinced the store clerk to wrap a domestic snake around his neck.

“You look like you’re about to throw up” You giggle, pointing your phone at Max, who’s face had turned an alarming red as the docile snake snuggled up to his thick neck.

“I’m about to faint, no shit right now, this is not babygirl schat, this is abuse.” He hissed, quoting what you had said to convince him in the first place, he brought one shaky hand up to pet the reptile, a laboured “shhh” noise escaping the dutchman as though he were coercing the docile animal to not strangle the life out of him.

Luckily, the over-amused store clerk unwrapped the snake from his shoulders before Max simultaneously shit himself and cried.

“Maxie, look” You rushed over to another enclosure, this time, it was a large area on the floor walled off with pet gates, plush pillows were propped up against the black grate along with tumultuous cat toys spread across the floor. Luckily, to match the mess, there were at least 15 kittens, all different breeds, some were sleeping on their tummies, fluffy eyes closed as their four limbs spread out oddly whilst others were being entertained by other enraptured patrons.

“Hi guys,” You whispered, tucking your skirt beneath your thighs as your crouched down again, coming eye to eye with the adorable animals, “You’re so cute,” Max had joined you promptly, hitching up his jeans as he lowered himself next to you, large blue eyes following the cats.

A worker noticed the two of you and left their previous customers, a couple, much like yourselves, the two people cuddled a soft brown kitten who nuzzled into their shared embrace.

“Hi! Can I help you?”

You looked up at her, smiling, “My boyfriend and I were looking for a new addition to our family, I would love to bring home one of these guys.” You gestured to the large play pen.

“Well, that’s just lovely! But the cat’s choose you guys, not the other way around.” The middle-aged woman laughed, her olive skin stretching as she unlocked the gate and ushered the two of you in, “That’s how me and my husband got our cat.”

“Oh...” You stood eerily still as multiple odd fluff-balls came and sniffed your heels before trotting away, “What if none of them like me?” You whisper to Max, who already housed at least 3 kittens by his feet, “Nonsense, you just have to be patient darling.” He kissed your cheek and rubbed your arm comfortingly.

After about 10 minutes of you gingerly attempting to welcome a companion into your embrace, a smaller, more fur decadent kitten walked out from behind the small playhouse that sat in the far corner of the enclosure. It cocked its head curiously at you before yawning and shaking its back, and rump, its snow-white fur oscillating with its movements.

“Hi honey,” You whispered, bending down to allow it to clamber sleepily into your lap, you squealed internally, standing up once again with the kitten safely embraced into your arms, its back angled comfortably on your forearms and head rested on your chest whilst it blinked slowly at you, pale green eyes shining happily.

Max grinned serenely at the pair of you, watching as you brought a hand up to rub gently on the pink nose of the animal in your care, “I think you just got chosen.” He laughed quietly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he gazed down at the sleepy cat.

“Her name’s pookie.” You declared giddily as you approached the car, holding out your hand for the keys to the expensive car. Max stared at you, fear evident in his eyes.

“You can name her whatever you want, but you are not driving the car, we have precious cargo now,” He petted pookie behind her ear.

“Fine, come here baby.” You barely pouted, already taking pookie and her small, shell shaped bed into your arms. She rested peacefully in your lap, purring contently as Max hauled the other pink cat care items you had bought, into the back seat.

“So, I just had to buy you a cat?” Max inquired; hand braced on the back of your headrest as he backed out of the parking spot.

You lean over the dash to kiss Max’s stubble covered cheek, “It’s so easy to please me, my love.”

“Well….” He squeaked, looking over at you suggestively.

“You perv,” You smacked his forehead but laughed nonetheless, “There’s children present.”

“So, Max?”

The driver perked up at his name, flipping the microphone in his hand to answer the question, he leaned back against the white sofa where he was joined by a few other of his fellow colleagues all of whom turned to the questioner in the sea of reporters.

“We’ve heard you have a new addition to the family?”

Max laughed into the mic, before adjusting the cap on his head and nodding, “Very true yes, the missus and I just got a new kitten into the house.” He plucked out his phone and held up a photo of you and Pookie, both of whom were turned away from the lens to face the large window showing of the Monaco coastline.

A flurry of ‘awws’ escaped the people present, and Charles who also swooned at the photo spoke into the mic, “Do you guys have a name yet?”

“Kind of, she wanted to name it ‘pookie’ and I just think that when I talk about the kitten, I’ll sound like an idiot, it doesn’t feel right with my accent.”

Charles popped his mouth open, “Wait- you call me pookie?”

Back at home, you had snuggled up to Jimmy and Sassy, both of whom had settled with laying their heads onto each of your legs whilst you held Pookie close to your chest, caressing her cheek, “That’s what you get leclerc.” You snarl at the screen, “Stealing my boyfriend, leaving our children fatherless, you whore.” You joked, filming your commentary to send to Max, who on the television screen was already justifying the similar names between his new daughter, and his work wife.

Pookie blinked up at you, and you swore, that she smiled at your determined face.

📻 Kcccchh.... come in.... come in...translatiion available...over

📻 Kchh...Dutch....to english....over

dat is alles wat nodig is ? - that's all it takes ?

Geliefde - Love [r]

Heer, red mij - Lord, save me

BEN JE NET 150 KM/U BREKEN? HOE? - DID YOU JUST BREAK 150 KPH? HOW?

schat - Darling/Love/Babe [term of endearment]

[loupy-mongoose]

Lil speech guide: Randy's speech Jamie's speech (Pokespeak will be in parentheses.)

It got pretty long, so under the Bar it goes!

PREVIOUS NEXT

~~~~~~

Jamie, the Gardevoir, and the three Lindens stood locked in tense silence. Randy fought to string together an explanation that wouldn't give away too much, while also trying to gauge Akoya's stance.

Jamie was the first to break the silence. Her expression hardened, her eyes displaying a sharp fury. Well? I'm not letting you a step further until I know it's not a threat.

The pointed stick in her hand lowered to point toward the family, and her authoritative tone chilled Randy. She meant business, which didn't help ease the man's racing mind.

Akoya answered before Randy could, her voice a bit too defensive in his opinion. It's none of your business what's in our bag. It's stuff for travel! What's wrong with that?!

Jamie clearly didn't believe her for a second. Her icy eyes bore into the white haired visitor. I won't tolerate a threat at my home. Tell me what's in there, or you WILL leave. Her eyes flashed ominously. Or worse.

Feeling a wave of protectiveness, Randy shuffled to stand in front of Akoya and Lavender. He hoped they couldn't feel the surge of utter dread that coursed through his body.

Listen, Jamie. He tried to keep his voice low, level, and non-threatening. What's in that bag is very precious to us, and we can't show you out here where others might see it. If we can go somewhere private, then maybe we can work something out.

He felt the sharp jab of Akoya's disapproval from behind him. Between her and the protesting red-head in front of them, he felt his resolve being wringed out of him.

Jamie stood still, her glare unwavering. After a moment, her head lifted slightly as she addressed their Pokemon company in an strong bark. (Darren, Sheila, Percy, please hide us with your wings.)

Percy and Darren gave startled, bewildered looks, while Sheila tilted her head and chuffed questioningly. But they did as she asked, reaching out to their widest wingspans, touching tip-to-tip with each other.

The Lindens hesitantly shuffled to adjust their positions as their space shrank.

There. Jamie eyed them all closely You wanted somewhere private; this is it. If you still won't show me, you'll have to leave.

Randy and Akoya glanced nervously at each other.

What could be done?

They came to a silent agreement.

Akoya turned back to Jamie, giving her a glare that verged on desperation. We're showing you because you forced our hand. NOT because we trust you. If you try anything...

To Randy's surprise, he caught a falter in Jamie's resolve, and something changed. A new expression slipped into her demeanor, if only barely.

Curiosity.

The look on Jamie's face turned from shock to determination.

Swiftly she addressed her three winged Pokemon. (Spread the word; we need to find a little pink Mew with blue accents. It is to be brought back to these three safely and secretly.)

The three beasts nodded in sincerity and took off.

Persim poked his head of of the bag, his face etched in horror, while Momo was shrieking. Stay in there for now, Perzi. Randy's voice was shaky, but reassuring. We'll handle it. Could you please try to calm Momo down?

The orange feline nodded uncertainly and ducked back into the bag. Randy saw a green bubble form in it as he zipped it shut. Momo's screams went quiet, but he knew it was just contained by the bubble. Poor Persim...

The red-headed girl looked solemnly at the devastated family, her expression softer than any of them had seen from her yet. I'm truly sorry about that... I promise you all, this is the best place for a Pokemon like them to be lost at. There will be lots of good Pokemon looking for them, and any humans will be curious at worst. It might scare them, but nobody will hurt them.

I would've done things differently if I'd known they were in there...

Akoya gave up looking nearby for her son and took a breath. She turned to Jamie, for once without venom. Listen, Jamie, with all due respect, we'll be able to find him easier than your little... network, or whatever you have here. He's gotta be terrified! He might just keep teleporting away if strangers find him, human or Pokemon...

Jamie folded her arms with a hesitant nod. You're free to search too, if you think so. Maybe you're right, and he'll only show for you guys. But if anyone spots him, I'll hear of it, so I'd best stick with you.

Akoya gave an uncertain look and opened her mouth to speak. But, feeling her about to protest, Randy interrupted her. We can talk later. Let's go find Midas.

~~~~~~

PREVIOUS NEXT

New skill acquired~

And just for the fun of it, I'm uh... gonna share some of the (very) rough sketches I did for this part, because I find them hilarious.

Luna (my cat) randomly decided to leave the comfort of her cat tower to come lay on my arm. The trouble was, it was my drawing arm. So I made due. XD

[thequeenofneverland1]

Kol Mikaelson////Bound by Love

Anonymous request: Can I a request a story Kol Mikaelson falling in love with Davina’s little sister and Davina and Marcel not approving of the relationship when they find out that Y/n and Kol ore dating both Davina and Marcel warns Kol and his family to stay away from Y/n but obviously he doesn’t so something leads that Marcel kicks out Y/n you can choose how to end it and thank you :)

Warnings: Betrayal and manipulation by family members, Banishment and exile from a community, Emotional distress and sadness, Family conflict and confrontation,Jealousy and tension between siblings, Betrayal and consequences of actions, Loss of trust and break of relationships, Emotional manipulation and pleading for help, Family members being escorted out of a community, Consequences of betrayal and actions, Tension and conflict between family members, Abandonment and rejection by loved ones

the Mystical town of New Orleans, Kol Mikaelson found himself falling head over the younger sister of Davina Claire. You were kind-hearted and spirited, causing him to fall in love with your infectious laughter and unwavering loyalty.

But when Davina and Marcel Gerard discovered the budding relationship between Kol and you, they were less than pleased. They believed Kol to be a troublemaker, prone to chaos and destruction, and they did not want you to be caught up in his web.

"You know Kol's history, Davina," Marcel warned, his voice filled with concern. "He may claim to love your sister now, but how long before he shows his true colors?"

Davina nodded solemnly, her face clouded with worry. "I don't want her to get hurt, Marcel. We have to do something before it's too late."

Kol entered the room as he waited for you, only to hear Marcel and Davina talking about him. "We need to put a stop to this. Kol can't be trusted."

"You're right. Y/n deserves better than to get involved with a Mikaelson." She tells him.

With a solemn attitude, Kol emerged from behind the door. "I was unable to resist listening in on your talk. I know you're worried, but I'm not going to avoid Y/n. I'm not going to allow anyone to stop me from loving her."

Marcel exchanged a look of surprise with Davina. “You have no idea what you're getting yourself into.”

"Maybe not, but I'm willing to take that risk for Y/n and for our love." Kol states

"How can we be certain that you're not merely taking advantage of her?” He asked, “ We all know how highly your family values power, and she is a powerful witch."

"I can promise you that my feelings for Y/n are sincere, but I do understand your concern. However Her power doesn't pique my attention. I love her just the way she is." Kol states again.

Not believing him, Davina shakes her head. “Additionally, who's to say you won't turn on her when the time is right? Betrayal is ingrained in the Mikaelson family's heritage."

"I know my family has done some terrible things, but I'm not my family. I'm my own person, and I've changed. I want to be someone that Y/n can rely on." Saying this, Kol hopes that they will believe him.

"Words are cheap." Marcel says and Davina nods in agreement

You entered the room, a confused look on your face, you noticed that they got quiet "What's going on? Why does it feel like I walked in on something?"

Marcel and Davina exchanged a glance, unsure of what to say. “Well?”

Kol approaches you while wearing an unhappy face "They were just telling me to stay away from you, Y/n. They think I'm using you for your power."

Your expression turned to anger as you turned to your sister and Marcel. "How dare you? Kol loves me, and I love him. And you have no right to interfere in our relationship."

“Y/n, we’re just trying to protect you.” She tells you.

"I'm not in need of your defense.” You respond, "I need you guys to trust me to make my own decisions and to respect my choices."

You turned over to Kol, "I'm sorry that they're putting you through this. I believe you, Kol. And I trust that your feelings for me are genuine."

"Thank you, darling," Kol grinned. “For me, that is very important. They won't be able to separate us, but I swear to do everything in my power to earn their trust."

“Y/n, we're only thinking about what's best for you. Is it really that wrong that we were cautious about a Mikaelson?" Without attempting to enrage you, Marcel tells you

"No, I can't blame you. But I can ask you to give Kol a chance. He's not his family, and he deserves to be judged on his own merits." You let him know that you understood that his only concern was for your protection

“Okay, all right. However, he will be held accountable to us if he harms you." Your sister gives you a warm smile.

You gave her a smile in return, "fair enough. However, I feel that's not a concern for us."

Kol grinned at you and took your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze before you both left.

"I still don't trust him, Davina," Marcel tells her as they watch Kol and you leave. “He is a Mikaelson, and they are infamous for their deception."

She folded her arms. "Yes, Marcel, I am aware. However, Y/n seems to sincerely love him, and we are powerless to stop her from loving him.”

"I know that but I just don't want her to get hurt. And if Kol does anything to hurt her, I swear I'll make him regret it." He declares

"I feel the same way, Marcel. But for now, we need to give them some space. My sister is a smart woman, and I'm sure she'll make the right decision." She informs him.

"I hope you're right, Davina.” he adds, trying to hide his worries about you. “Because if Kol crosses us, he'll have hell to pay."

“I believe he is aware of it. If he's intelligent, he'll go above and beyond to convince us of his worth." She chuckles as she shakes her head at how theatrical he is being.

Klaus entered the room with a smirk on his face as Marcel and Davina were wrapping up their talk. "Ah, Davina, Marcel. You two were talking about my brother and your beloved sister, and I couldn't help but listen."

"Klaus, what do you want?" Marcel expresses his obvious displeasure that Klaus entered the home without authorization.

Klaus smirks. “Oh stop, I'm just stopping over to say congrats. It appears that my brother has gained Y/n's affection. And he's really in love with her, I have to admit."

"Klaus, you and your siblings don't have our trust." Your sister gives him a furious stare.

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I'm well aware. But you might be surprised by what Kol is capable of when he puts his mind to it. He may be a Mikaelson, but he's also his own person. But Rather than that, you guys can trust us."

"Klaus, all your family has done is bring suffering and devastation. What makes any of you worthy of our trust?” Marcel declared he didn't give a damn whether he enraged Klaus or not

Klaus narrows his eyes as he walks over to him. "Careful, Marcel. You may be powerful, but don't forget who holds the cards here."

Refusing to back down, He tells Klaus, "I'm not afraid of you, Klaus, You'll have to deal with all of us if your brother harms Y/n”

"Ah, such loyalty.” Klaus began laughing. “But be warned, Marcel. I won't hesitate to protect my family, even from you. And if Kol loves Y/n as much as you claim, I'm sure he won't hesitate either."

“We'll do whatever it takes to protect Y/n, Klaus. Even from you and your brother."

"Very well, then. Let the games begin." He declares.

"We mean it, Klaus. Keep your family away from Y/n. We won't tolerate any interference from the Mikaelsons." Your sister warns him.

"Davina, you really need to get better at picking your battles. You're in no position to make demands of me or my family." He tries to go in front of your sister while telling your sister, but Marcel moves in front of her. “We're not afraid of you, Klaus. And we'll do whatever it takes to protect Y/n."

"Very well, Marcel. But don't forget, I have eyes and ears everywhere. And if I catch wind of any harm coming to my brother or Y/n, there will be consequences."

She shook her head. "We're not the ones you need to worry about, Klaus. It's your family's reputation that precedes you."

"And besides, I doubt Y/n would appreciate you speaking for her, Marcel. She's a strong, independent young woman who can make her own choices. And if she's chosen to be with my brother, it's because she sees something in him that you clearly cannot."

Marcel lashes out, saying, "Klaus, you think you know everything. But take note. you will suffer consequences if your family hurts Y/n."

Klaus chuckles once more. "Oh, Marcel, I've made my share of payments. And if it means defending my loved ones and myself, I'll be happy to repay them. I have to take care of some more pressing affairs, so please excuse me."

“Naturally, by arranging with your brother to take advantage of her and make her go insane.” Your sister yells at him.

"Become insane? Oh, please. Given Y/n's strength as a witch, why would we ever wish to hurt her? She's significant to me and the rest of my siblings because she's important to my brother." He informs both of them.

Marcel chuckles, obviously not buying it. "Klaus, you've hurt a lot of people who were significant to other people in the past. What makes us think you would treat Y/n any differently?”

She gives Marcel a nod of approval "We won't take any chances when it comes to Y/n's safety. She must not be around you and your family, or else there will be consequences .”

His eyebrows shot up. "Davina, is that a threat? If that's the case, I advise you to carefully consider what you say next. You don't want my family and I to become your enemies. Or maybe my brother and my family aren't the source of your issue at all. Maybe you're simply jealous that Kol chose Y/n instead of you. Seeing your younger sister with the man you desire for yourself must be difficult."

"How dare you!" she yells at him, furious. “You have no idea who I am or what I'm into."

He grinned, "I guess I know more than you think. You're not as adept at controlling your emotions as you believe you are. Additionally, if I were you, I would exercise caution when making enemies of people who are able to see right through you."

"Enough, Klaus. You've made your point. Now leave us alone." Marcel leads him to the door

"Davina, there's one more thing. It's fortunate that my brother picked Y/n over you. You're not worthy of him or any member of my family. On the other hand, let's simply say that your sister is everything and you're not." He conveys to her

"Leave!" she fiercely gestures toward the door.

He laughs. "As you wish. But keep in mind that I'll stop at nothing to keep Y/n and my brother safe. My brother loves Y/n. Therefore, don't cross my family or me. The outcomes won't be to your liking."Before leaving, he issues the warning.

“That arrogant, self-righteous, son of a..."she furiously tries to say but she gets stopped by Marce placing a hand on her shoulder. "Davina, calm down. He's not worth it."

"How can I calm down after everything he just said?" she asks, staring at him foolishly.” He essentially threatened me and called me worthless."

"I know, but getting worked up about it won't help. We need to focus on protecting Y/n, not on getting revenge on Klaus."

"But he can't just get away with saying those things!"

"I promise you, Davina. He'll have his desserts. However, let's keep Y/n secure from him and his family for the time being." He smiles and comforts her, "But for now, I'm going to go talk to Rebekah, and hopefully she can help us."

Rebekah nods in agreement with Klaus's statement. “I regret to inform you that my brother is correct in two particular regards. Even though Davina won't acknowledge it, she does feel something for Kol. Marcel, let's be honest. Y/n is more attractive and intelligent than Davina could ever be. It makes sense that Kol choose her over her sister."

Marcel is furious that his beloved agrees with her brother, "Rebekah, that's not fair.Davina has gone through a lot."

She shrugs her shoulders."everyone has. she’s not the only one. But whose fault is that? Davina made her own choices, just like Y/n has. And if she's jealous of her sister, well, that's her problem, not mine."

He sighs. "I don't know what to do, Rebekah. I want to protect Y/n, but I don't want to drive her away."

She rolls her eyes. "Then maybe you should stop listening to Davina and start listening to your heart. Sometimes the best way to protect someone is to give them the space they need to make their own mistakes."

Rebekah knocks on Klaus's door "Hey, big brother. Mind if I come in?"

Klaus smiles "Ah, sister. To what do I owe this honor?"

She sat down on the bed. “Marcel was here and we were talking. And you were right. Davina is jealous of Y/n."

He nods "Of course she is. Davina's always been a bit of a wild card. And Y/n... well, let's just say she's a rare gem, even by Mikaelson standards."

She smiles at the thought of you. "I know. She's smart, beautiful, and completely fearless. It's no wonder Kol fell for her."

"Indeed. And if Marcel and Davina aren't careful, they're going to push her right into our brother’s arms. Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"I know.”

He expresses concern to his sister "Maybe we ought to monitor Y/n more closely. I wouldn't rule out Davina making a stupid attempt."

"You're right," she nods. “It's not like Davina is known for her self control. However, caution will be required. We want Y/n to not feel as though we are suffocating her.”

“I concur. We'll need to keep our distance. However, not even Davina will be allowed to jeopardize my brother's happiness." He informs his sister of the consequences.

She smiles at her brother, "You really have taken a shine to Y/n, haven't you, brother?"

He shrugs his shoulders with a smile."What can I say? She's a remarkable young woman. And she makes Kol happy. That's enough for me."

"What? Davina is envious of Y/n? That's unbelievable.” Kol says, quite unexpectedly.

"Brother, believe it. And we must exercise caution. I refuse to allow Davina or anybody else to jeopardize Y/n's security." He informs him.

Kol declares emphatically, "Brother, neither will I. I'll stop at nothing to keep Y/n safe, even if it means putting my life in danger."

"It's so sweet to see you so smitten, Kol," Rebekah says with a smile. “But maintain your vigilance. Davina is erratic, and we never know what she will do.”

Kol gave a nod. "Sister, I won't. I swear. I'm completely devoted to Y/n, and I won't allow anything or anyone stand in our way."

You were initially skeptical of Kol's claims, but eventually started to see the possibility of your sister's jealousy. “Davina is jealous of me? No way. She's my sister, she wouldn't do something like that."

“I know it's difficult to accept, darling. Klaus and Rebekah are sure And I'm concerned about her potential actions." Kol informs you

"I... I don't know," you scowl. “Although Davina might be erratic, I never imagined that she would feel jealous of me. particularly with a man."

He took your hand. "Listen, darling. No matter what happens, you have to know that I love you. And only you. Your sister doesn't factor into this at all."

You gave a sorrowful smile. "Regards, Kol. You do, I'm sure. I simply never imagined my own sister could be that self-centered, and I love you too."

You decided to confront your sister about her alleged "Davina, is it true? That you are jealous about me and Koi?"

"What? No, of course not! How could you even think that?" Davina asked shocked

You shrugged your shoulders "I don't know what to think, sister. But Klaus and Rebekah seem to think you are."

Your sister angrily tells you. “They're lying to you, Y/n! They're trying to turn you against me because they're afraid of how powerful we are together."

"I don't know, Davina. I just want to know the truth." You said confused

Davina pleaded to you. “The truth is that I love you, sister . And I would never do anything to hurt you. Please, don't believe what Klaus and Rebekah are saying. They're just trying to manipulate you.”

As you recalled Davina's previous attempts to make Kol jealous, you realizes that your sister's behavior aligns with Klaus and Rebekah's claims were true

Davina gazed into your eyes with tears in them. "Y/n, no. You must have faith in me. I'm not envious. You're my sister, please. Nobody knows me as you do."

You shook your head “I don't know, Davina. I want to believe you, but... (you pauses, remembering Davina's previous behavior) …”that's why you asked if I had a guy friend for you to date. You were trying to make Kol jealous, weren't you?"

She was stuttering. "No... no... I….I just wanted to get his attention.It was not intended to be meaningful.”

You cast a somber glance at her. “I adore you, sister, but Klaus and Rebekah are correct. You're envious of Kol and me. And that's unacceptable.”

"Enough, all of you! Can't you see that this is tearing Y/n and her sister apart?" Marcel tells the three of you and he turns to look at you, his face full of anger. "You know what, Y/n? I thought you were better than this. You're not family, and you never will be. Get out."

"Marcel, what are you saying?" you questioned in shock. “I can't just be kicked out!"

He angrily tells you. "I can, and I will. Davina's my family, and I won't have you causing her pain."

Kol intervenes to protect you. "Marcel, stop up! Y/n isn't to blame for this. It was Davina who started this whole thing.”

He ignores Kol and he points to the door. “I don't care, Kol. Y/n's no longer welcome here. Now leave, before I make you."

"Fine, Marcel. I'll go. But you're making a big mistake." You said leaving as Kol comforted you. “Shh darling I’m here.”

Upon arriving at the Mikaelson mansion, Kol and you are warmly welcomed by the Mikaelson family, who make it clear that you are now one of them.

Elijah greets you with a smile. "Welcome, Y/n. We're so glad you're here. Please, make yourself at home."

Klaus smiles at you as well. “Indeed, Y/n. You're family now, and we protect our own."

Rebekah hugs you. "Marcel's a fool for kicking you out. But don't worry, we'll take good care of you here Sweetie."

Kol holding your hand. “I told you, darling. You belong here with us. You're a Mikaelson now, always and forever."

You were overwhelmed. "Thank you all so much. I don't know what I would have done without you."

One year later, Kol and your love for each other has only grown stronger, and the two of you decide to tie the knot. While the absence of your sister and Marcel brings you sadness, your new family is here to support you on your special day.

The wedding ceremony is beautiful, with you looking radiant in your dress and Kol beaming with pride as he watches you walk down the aisle with his two brothers. However, as the ceremony progresses, you can't help but feel a pang of sadness as you notices the empty seats where Davina and Marcel should be

Kol noticed your sadness. “Darling, what's wrong? This is our big day. You should be happy."

You carefully wipe off your tears trying to not ruin your makeup. "I know, Kol. I'm just sad that my sister and Marcel couldn't be here. I miss them."

Klaus stepped in since he overheard you. "Don't worry, Y/n. We're your family now, and we'll always be here for you. Today is about you and Kol, and no one else."

Rebekah pulled you into a warm hug. "Don't let them ruin this day for you, sister. You deserve to be happy, and we're here to make sure you are."

Elijah smiles as he nods. "Indeed, Y/n. Today is a celebration of your love for Kol, and our love for you. Let's make it a day to remember."

You smiled back. "Thank you all so much. I'm so lucky to have you as my family."

Kol takes your hand. “darling like I told you. You're a Mikaelson. And that means you're never alone."

As the ceremony continues, your sadness gradually fades, replaced by the joy and love of your family. Together, they celebrate the union of Kol and you, and the beginning of a new chapter in their lives.

Months later, you and your family are out in the city when you guys witness a surprising turn of events. Davina and Marcel, who had been absent from your life for some time, are being banished from the city. Despite the tension between them, you feel compelled to confront your ister and former friend.

You guys watched as Davina and Marcel are escorted out of the city, their belongings scattered behind them. Davina catches sight of you and tries to approach you, but the Kol and his siblings step in to protect you

Kol defensively tells her. "Stay back, Davina. You've done enough damage."

"Please, Y/n. I just want to talk to you."Davina pleaded

"It's alright, guys. I can handle this." You told them.

Klaus looks at you unsure. "Are you sure, Y/n? We don't want you to get hurt."

You nodded . "I'm sure. Davina's my sister, after all. I need to face her."

Davina reveals the reason behind their banishment, which involves Marcel's wrongdoing. "It's all Marcel's fault, Y/n. He made a deal with the enemy behind our backs, betraying our coven and putting everyone at risk. When the elders found out, they banished us both from the city."

you looked at him, shocked “Marcel, is this true?"

He defensively puts his hands up in the air. "I did what I had to do, Y/n. They were threatening to expose us to the humans. I had no choice."

You angrily yelled at him." So you sold out your own people? How could you do that, Marcel?"

Your sister pleaded to you as she got on her knees “Please, Y/n. You have to help us. We have nowhere else to go."

You let out a sigh. “I don't know, Davina. You both betrayed me. Why should I help you now?"

Davina and Marcel beg you for help, hoping that your connections with powerful people could offer them a lifeline. However, your loyalty now lies with your family, who have stood by your side when Davina and Marcel didn't.

She starts to cry, “please, Y/n. We need you. You know powerful people. You can convince them to help us."

You shook your head. "I'm sorry, sister. But I'm not going to betray them like you betrayed me. They're my family, and I won't turn my back on them."

Marcel angrily tells you. “So that's it? You're just going to leave us out here to fend for ourselves?"

You firmly back at him. "You made your choices, Marcel. And you have to live with the consequences. Good luck to both of you."

As you walk away from your sister and Marcel, Klaus can't resist a final parting shot, emphasizing the consequences of their actions. "I did warn you, didn't I? But you chose to ignore me. Now look where it's gotten you. You should have listened to me, and maybe things would have turned out differently."

Davina scowling. "Shut up, Klaus. This is all your fault."

Klaus laughs. “Oh, please. You're the ones who dug your own graves. Don't blame me for your own stupidity."

Rebekah turned over to Kol. "Come on, get Y/n out of here. She doesn't need to see any more of this."

Kol nods at his sister."You're right.” And he takes your hand. “Let's go, darling.”

As Kol and you walk away from the confrontation with Davina and Marcel, Kol decides to lighten the mood by revealing a surprise for you.

He grinned at you. "Hey, darling . I know that was a tough situation, but I've got something that might cheer you up.”

You asked curiously. "Oh? And what might that be?"

He teases. you. “Well, you'll just have to wait and see. But I promise it'll be worth it."

You smiled. “You're such a tease, Kol Mikaelson. But I'm intrigued. What's this surprise?"

He laughs. "Patience, Y/n Mikaelson. All will be revealed in due time."

As Kol and you continued walking, you can't help but smile at Kol's playfulness, grateful for his ability to lift your pirits even in difficult times.

Kol leads you to your surprise, keeping your yes covered until the two of you arrive at the destination. When he finally reveals the surprise, it's a beautiful house that he has acquired for him and you. Kol explains his reasoning behind the gesture, which elicits a laugh from you.

You laughed at him. “Oh, Kol. You really think the interruptions will stop just because we have our own house?"

He nods with a smile. "A man can dream, can't he? But seriously, I want us to have our own space, where we can be alone together whenever we want."

You smiled. "That sounds wonderful, Kol. Thank you."

Kol and you shared a kiss. "Anything for you, my darling. Now, shall we go inside and explore our new home?"

Together, Kol and you enter the house, excited to begin this new chapter of yours and his lives together

As Kol and you are about to enjoy the new home alone, Klaus, Elijah and Rebekah unexpectedly show up, much to Kol's chagrin. They continue their playful teasing, indicating that the interruptions might not be over just yet.

Klaus walks in with a smirk on his face. "Hey guys, we brought pizza!"

With Rebekah and Elijah following Klaus. "And wine, of course. Can't forget the wine."

Kol groans. "Really, guys? You're gonna do this here, too?"

Rebekah laughs with Klaus and Elijah. "Yup!"

You smiled. "Well, as long as there's pizza and wine, I'm not complaining."

The five of you all settle in to enjoy the meal together, relishing in the family bond and the lighthearted moments that you and your family share

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。SECRET — AL-HAITHAM.

pls come join me in silly haitham agenda and indulge me in the idea that he can be very playful and cute and lovely and charming thank you

al-haitham hates meetings.

and yet, here he is, struggling to find his clothes frustratedly in nothing but his boxers as he readies himself for one. to add to his misery, he can’t seem to find any of his regular clothes—how is it possible for all pairs of pants to be gone from his (neatly organized) closet? perhaps he was doomed from the moment he accepted his position—though it was hesitantly, and only under the agreement that it would be temporary.

he didn’t ask to be acting grand sage—and he certainly didn’t ask for all the responsibility that comes with it. but now, on the morning of a very important meeting which he absolutely cannot miss no matter how often he tries to make himself scarce in akademiya matters that simply don’t concern him, he rummages through clothes with a string of curses under his breath.

“are you planning on wearing pants?” you giggle, making him eye you wearily over his shoulder.

“well, that depends,” he huffs, “would you prefer me to show up like this?”

“of course not, this is a view reserved for myself only. and one that’s hardly appropriate for the grand sage,” you grin, pressing freshly laundered clothes into his hands.

he accepts them graciously—they’re still warm, like they’ve been freshly washed and dried for him to wear. you watch as he slips into his pants, admiring the pulls and flexes of his muscles as he dresses.

“how is it that i feel more exposed now that i’m dressed than before,” he raises a brow, “it must be your eyes practically undressing me.”

“oh but mister grand sage,” you tease, making him grumble a faint correction of acting grand sage as he rolls his eyes, “forgive me for my lack of manners. it’s just that…well, never mind. it’s a secret,” you giggle.

he turns, walking up to you as he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his chest as he leans closer. he’ll run late if he doesn’t leave soon—but not late enough that he can’t spare a moment or two for you.

“a secret, you say?” he hums, nose brushing against the column of your neck. you shiver, fingers grasping at the smooth skin of his bare shoulders. “as acting grand sage, i require intel on this secret.”

“that’s an abuse of power,” you inhale sharply when he presses a kiss to your jaw, as the warmth of his breath hits your skin from the low chuckle he lets out.

“is it?” he grins, “i’m sure if i really wanted to abuse power, i would have by now.”

his head moves up so that his lips just hover over your own—it’s unfair, how tantalizingly slow he is at leaning into you, how his touch ghosts over you. it makes you lean in to close the gap yourself, but he doesn’t make it so simple. he pulls away quickly, chuckling at the pout that tugs at your lips.

“this is corruption,” you gasp.

“then i suggest you tell me this secret of yours.”

“well,” you make a show to look around, as though any eavesdroppers could make themselves present in your empty home—kaveh has already left early, with his keys forgotten, again. “i’ve come to realize that you’re quite handsome, mister grand sage. and…well, i’m afraid i’ve fallen quite deeply for your charms. i don’t know how i’ll break it to my lover.”

“your lover?” he furrows his brows in confusion, making you nod solemnly.

“yes, my lover. you might’ve heard of him? the akademiya’s scribe?” you smile widely once he rolls his eyes at your mischief, wrapping your arms around his neck while his snake tighter around your waist.

“i see. it’s a grave predicament indeed,” he nods, face as serious as ever as he plays along.

“yes,” you sigh dramatically, “i’m afraid i’m in a terribly difficult spot. i can’t decide if i love the scribe or you, mister grand sage. but if word got around that i’ve got my eye on two men…. well, my reputation would be in ruins.”

“well, we wouldn’t want that,” he shakes his head, squeezing your hips with his large hands and pulling you against his chest.

“any advice who i should pick?”

“i think,” he presses his forehead to yours, lips just barely a few millimeters away, “that they’re both equally good options.”

“then would you keep my secret? that i have two lovers at once?”

he laughs, soft and boyish from his chest, with a honeyed sound that fills your heart to the brim so quickly, it skips two beats.

“i believe i can keep it hidden, yes,” he nods.

and just when he leans in to close the gap, you pull away, pressing his shirt to his chest and plastering a devious grin on your face as you snicker.

“wonderful,” you nod in glee, “then you might want to get dressed and make your way to the akademiya. i heard there’s an important meeting today that you simply cannot be late for.”

with that, you saunter out of the bedroom, leaving him to grumble over his unfortunately demanding position that he should not have ever accepted under any circumstance.

i wish to bite him immediately

[estellan0vella]

Robbery Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU Pt2

You sit at the counter of the parlour, sketching random designs in your notebook while chatting with Gojo. Your best friend since high school, Gojo recently joined the shop as a piercer, and his cheerful banter has become a daily highlight.

"Hey, Y/N/N," Gojo says, leaning over to peek at your sketches. "That's some good stuff. Ever thought about doing the tattoos?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "Nah, I'm happy just doodling. Leave the ink to the pros."

Gojo grins, his bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe I'll just have to convince you one day."

Across the room, Sukuna is working on a client's back piece, his concentration intense and unwavering. His presence is commanding, even when he's completely focused on his work. Toji and Geto are busy with their own clients, exchanging jokes and stories as they ink intricate designs.

The door chimes as someone walks in, and you glance up out of habit. A man stands in the doorway, looking out of place and nervous. Your eyes narrow slightly as you take in the sight of the gun he's trying to hide under his jacket.

"Uh, everybody freeze!" he shouts, pulling the gun out and waving it around.

A tense silence falls over the room, but only for a moment. Then, to the man's surprise, laughter erupts from all of you.

"Wow, seriously?" Gojo says, rolling his eyes. "Compensating much?"

Toji smirks, not even pausing in his work. "Yeah, buddy, did you lose a bet or something? That thing's tiny."

"Is that a lighter in your pocket or are you happy to see us?" Sukuna taunts.

The man blinks, clearly not expecting this reaction. His face flushes with embarrassment and frustration, his grip on the gun tightening nervously.

Sukuna leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "I gotta say, if you're here to rob us, you could at least bring something more threatening. That little pea-shooter won't get you far."

Toji chuckles, glancing over at Geto who nods in agreement. "Seriously, man. Did you think we wouldn't notice you sneaking in here with that?"

You, still seated at the counter, can't help but join in. "And here I thought I'd seen everything in this shop. Turns out, we're now a comedy club."

Gojo, with his usual irreverence, adds fuel to the fire. "I mean, look at you. You look like a marshmallow"

"What does that even mean?" You ask with a giggle and Gojo shrugs.

The man’s face contorts with a mix of anger and humiliation. "Shut up!" he yells, waving the gun again. "I'm serious! I'll shoot!"

Toji raises an eyebrow, his tone still teasing. "Oh, are we doing threats now? How about this: put that thing away before someone gets hurt. Namely, your ego."

The man looks flustered, his grip on the gun tightening as he points it at you. "Shut up! I'm serious! Give me all your money!"

You roll your eyes, unable to contain your sarcasm. "Sweetheart, I have epilepsy. My brain doesn't work right on the best of days. A gun doesn't scare me. Just don't mess with my face or my tits, alright? They're my best features."

Sukuna leans back, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Can confirm. I'm extremely fond of them"

Geto nods solemnly. "Seriously, those are top-tier assets. We should put them in a museum."

Gojo nods solemnly as you laugh. "We'd have to hold a memorial service for the girls. It'd be tragic."

Toji finally looks up, his expression one of mock seriousness. "The worst crime you'd commit today would be damaging that rack."

Gojo grins wider. "We'd put ourselves in the line of fire to protect those honkers."

Sukuna gestures lazily towards you. "Hey babe," he says with a grin, "don't worry, I'll protect those masterpieces," nodding towards your chest. "Can't have this guy ruining what I get to enjoy every day."

Gojo nods sagely. "He's right, those are national treasures."

Toji nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'd cry real tears if something happened to those."

The man's face turns bright red, his hand shaking as he tries to regain control of the situation. "Shut up! Just give me the money!"

"Is it an innie?" Toji asks, feigning genuine curiosity. "You know, your... equipment?"

The robber's frustration grows as the room continues to be filled with laughter and teasing. He finally lowers the gun, looking completely defeated. "You guys are crazy," he mutters before turning and bolting out the door.

As soon as he's gone, the room erupts into even louder laughter. Sukuna sets down his tattoo machine and walks over to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Glad our national treasures are safe," he murmurs, planting a kiss on your temple and you snort.

Gojo is still chuckling, shaking his head. "That was priceless. Best robbery attempt ever."

Geto nods in agreement. "Yeah, we really should thank the guy for the entertainment."

Toji stretches, leaning back in his chair. "Who knew our biggest concern today would be protecting Y/N's tits?"

You grin, feeling the warmth of Sukuna's embrace. "Well, they're glad to still be here."

"We're all glad they're still here," Sukuna says with a grin. 

The next day, you come into the parlour with a new sign you’ve created. It's bright and colourful, with bold letters that read, “No Guns Allowed. Seriously, We'll Laugh In Your Face.” Gojo takes a marker from you and neatly writes 'We will protect the honkers with our own bodies' making you laugh as you hand the sign to Sukuna who takes it from you, chuckling as he hangs it in the window for everyone to see.

Sukuna steps back to admire your work, a proud smile on his face. “Looks great, babe.”

Gojo, standing next to him, nods in approval. “Perfect. Now we just need someone dumb enough to test it.”

Toji and Geto walk in, glancing at the sign and chuckling. “I give it a week,” Toji says.

“Three days, tops,” Geto counters.

You all laugh, knowing that no matter what happens, you’ve got each other’s backs—and that’s more than enough to handle anything life throws at you.

The rest of the day goes by without a hitch. As you sketch, chat with Gojo, and watch Sukuna work, you feel a deep sense of contentment. Life may be unpredictable, but with this group of misfits, it’s never boring.

The bell above the door jingles, signalling a new customer. You glance up. “Welcome to the madhouse,” you say with a grin. “How can we help you today?”

[badasgirlfriend]

Opposites Attract | Bada Lee Imagine

pairings: slytherin!bada lee x gryffindor!fem!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, hp universe, idk

~part 2~

Y/N sighed in frustration as Professor McGonagall explained the theory behind transfiguration. She truly loved her professor and the subject, but today just wasn't her day.

Y/N whispered to her best friend Eli, who was sitting next to her. "I can't focus,"

Eli nodded in agreement. "Me neither," she said. "I just want to go to my common room and get some rest."

"I can't wait for next week's match," Y/N exclaimed rather loudly, catching the professor's attention but going unnoticed.

Eli smirked. "We will beat your asses," she said.

"In your dreams," Y/N said, rolling her eyes. "How long has it been- two years maybe? Three? That's how long it's been since slytherins defeated us."

"That's because Heesung was captain. You know how bad he was. Now it's Bada, so- "

"Don't mention her"

"We will 100% win," Eli smirked, poking her shoulder, as if attempting to get a reaction from Y/N. "Did I hit a nerve?" Eli asked.

"I will hex you," Y/N threatened, jokingly grabbing her wand. However, seeing Eli's face change to fear, Y/N slowly turned around.

"I don't remember teaching hexes, Miss Y/N," Professor McGonagall said firmly.

"Of course not, professor," the younger girl smiled sweetly. "I was just joking."

"I heard you got in trouble today." Y/N immediately gulped at the mention of today's incident , knowing full well that she was in trouble.

"Minnie- Professor Sprout wasn't being fair," she stated quickly, attempting to defend herself.

"I argued with a Hufflepuff. I might have thrown in some insults- I can't remember," she finished weakly. "That's all I swear."

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "That's all?" she asked in shock. "Yes," Y/N replied.

"Huh, that's new," Professor McGonagall mumbled. "You two. I don't want to see you talking in class anymore. Focus on the notes." Y/N and Eli looked at each other in defeat.

"She's so scary"

"I know"

After an hour of taking notes and practicing transfiguration, class ended. With their different class schedules, Y/N and Eli had to part ways at this point. Y/N was off to Divination, while Eli was heading to History of Magic.

Y/N arrived at the North Tower and immediately spotted Mars, a Ravenclaw that she had grown very close with this year.

"Can I sit with you?" she asked, earning a nod of approval from Mars.

"Yes, of course," Mars replied enthusiastically.

As soon as Y/N sat down, a crystal ball appeared on their desk, much to their surprise.

"Your Jupiter planet seems to be bothered, that means you'll die next year," Mars said, mimicking Professor Trelawny's voice.

"Oh no," Y/N gasped "What a shame," she said sarcastically. "I can't wait though."

Y/N started waving her hands around the crystal ball with a serious expression on her face.

"Damn it," she said. "Ravenclaw will lose to Gryffindor."

Mars pushed Y/N playfully. "Shove off," he continued playfully.

"You don't need to be an expert in Divination to know what happens next," a high-pitched voice said, causing both of them to freeze.

"We both get Outstandings- nevermind we won't," Mars started to say, only to immediately stop as he saw the furious look on the professor's face.

"What's with these professors sneaking up on me today?" Y/N grumbled, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

Y/N strongly disliked Professor Trelawney. Not just because she was unable to excel in Divination, but also because the professor irritated her in many ways. These ways include Trelawney's annoying trait of speaking nonsense

"Miss Y/N, change seats," The professor glanced around, suddenly noticing two Slytherins enter the classroom. "You can sit with Miss Lee,"

The two girls' faces turned into horror the second their eyes met.

"Never"

"Hell no"

"Either change seats, or you both get detention," the professor threatened solemnly.

"Why do I get detention when it's her fault?" Bada rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed at the situation.

"You're late, Miss Lee. Don't act so innocent," the professor said.

Hearing this made Bada snap back into her seat, realizing that protesting further would not do any good.

"It's not looking good for me," Bada mumbled to Mika, who only snickered in reply.

"It's only one class, don't complain," Mika replied.

In response, Bada let out a scoff "With her? It feels like a week."

On the other side of class, Y/N was quietly grabbing her book and muttering curses.

"It can't be that bad"

In response, Y/N whined, pointing at Bada. "It is," she said. "We're talking about her.

"Forgot about your little rivalry," Mars said with a chuckle.

"Pray for me, no actually, pray for her," Y/N muttered to Mars as she got up from her seat and headed to the new spot the professor had assigned for her.

On her way there, she shot Mika a dark look, only to receive a smug smirk in response from the Slytherin girl.

Stupid Slytherins

Without looking at the tall girl, Y/N sat down on the chair and scooted it away from Bada. Almost instantly, a strong, familiar smell wafted in front of Y/N's nose, filling her nostrils with the musky scent mixed with hints of vanilla.

Bada looked up and noticed that Y/N had scooted the chair away from her. Rolling her eyes, she looked away and went back to her work, clearly not caring about Y/N's discomfort.

Bada noticed that Y/N had scooted the chair away from her. Without saying a word, she rolled her eyes at the other girl's obvious discomfort.

She tried, she really did but Bada was simply incapable of keeping quiet in this situation. She simply couldn't sit there without throwing in a word toward the Gryffindor girl.

Since the first time the two of them had met, they had been constantly arguing. This was something that was deeply ingrained in Bada's memory.

Smirking, Bada scooted closer, eager to poke at Y/N's nerves.

"Afraid of me, Y/N?" she asked with a smirk on her face.

Noticing Bada's smirk, Y/N simply pressed her teeth together in annoyance "You wish"

"Then why are you sitting so far away then?" Bada asked, her voice dripping with sass. She then proceeded to grab the chair that Y/N was sitting on and scoot it closer to her table.

Y/N gasped in surprise, turning to face the Slytherin girl. "Are you crazy?"

Putting a finger on her chin, Bada pretended to mull over the question, her thoughts running wild in her head.

"I wouldn't say 'crazy,' per se," Bada said, her words dripping with sass.

"But I would certainly say that I am a little out of touch with the concept of 'personal space' when it comes to you," she continued, her smirk growing wider at that subtle dig.

"I'll bring you back to reality," Y/N hissed as she fully glared at Bada.

"You're nothing but an arrogant bitch who only cares about yourself-"

Bada's face changed just as Y/N's words reached their end. Her smirk from earlier now fell, turning into a scowl as she listened to what Y/N had to say.

"If you looked around more, you'd see that the world doesn't revolve around you and your little friends," Y/N continued.

Both girls were completely focused on their argument, and seemingly didn't notice that their faces were incredibly close together.

"Girls."

Neither Bada or Y/N made a single move. The rest of the class did not break their gazes, as they had become accustomed to the girls' bickers and just waited for things to calm down.

"Girls" the professor repeated and they both turned to glare at the professor

"What" they both said

"Pay attention" the professor said now sitting on the armchair near the fire "Alright my dear children now..."

She lifted her wand, her eyes glowing with a wild intensity. She pointed it towards the table and a tea cup rose into the air. With a flick of her wrist, it flew across the room towards her. "Beware the trap set before you, my dear," she uttered in a low and serious tone, her eyes locking with Y/N's.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze filling with sudden fear as she processed the professor's words.

"She's insane," she muttered under her breath, her expression turning from confusion to outright dread.

Bada found herself nodding along in agreement, but she quickly shook her head - she couldn't agree with her

"Collect a tea cup from the shelf, come to me and I'll fill it up" the professor continued "then drink it until only the dregs remain, swill the cup three times and give it to your partner to read it"

Bada and Y/N glared at each other after the professor said 'partners'

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, the girls finally got to the part where their tea leaves would be interpreted. As they swirled the contents of their cups and waited for the professor's words, their glares were still firmly locked on each other

"I'll read yours first," Y/N mumbled as she grabbed Bada's cup with a little force

As she looked into the cup of tea, Y/N felt herself slowly regretting her decision to not skip class. As her eyes tried to make out any figures or forms within the cup of tea leaves, she was met with nothing but disappointment.

"Huh, I don't see-" Y/N stops abruptly, her eyes suddenly catching a glimpse of something among the tea leaves.

Leaning in closer, she tries to make out the shape or image of whatever it might be.

"Oh wait, I see an acorn!" Y/N exclaims as she finally recognizes the shape in the tea leaves.

"It says you'll have a good change in life," she adds, her tone of voice full of surprise and curiosity "Im good at this"

Bada snorted "You suck"

"Alright, let's see you do it then." Y/N raises her brows expectantly, handing Bada the tea cup.

The slytherin takes the tea cup and looks into its contents, her expression suddenly changing.

"What the fuck"

Y/N looks at her with a slight concern. "What?"

"Falcon," Bada suddenly says, her tone of voice full of shock and horror.

"It means death," she adds, her words hanging in the air as Y/N's heart dropped.

Y/N didn't necessarily believe in the meaning of tea leaf readings and other forms of divination, but she had to admit that some of the interpretations of the tea leaves held some truth to them.

"Where do you see that?" she asks worriedly leaning over Bada

Bada couldn't help but hide a laugh as she saw Y/N's worried face.

"Look" Y/N bit her lip, still looking for the falcon among the tea leaves.

"Now I see a wolf," Bada continued

"A wolf?" Y/N repeated, her words filled with a mixture of confusion and fear. She grabbed ber book trying to find the wolf symbol. After the sighting of the falcon in her tea leaves, Y/she expects nothing but bad news.

"It means that the hottest and most intelligent girl in Hogwarts is sitting next to you," Bada laughed, her words causing Y/N to drop her book making the desk shake

As Y/N slowly tilted her head to look at Bada, her expression slowly turned to a grimace, which caused Bada to break into further laughter.

"You bitch, give me that" Y/N snapped at Bada, quickly picking up her tea cup from Bada's hands.

"Avada kedavra yourself,"

"Girls, be quiet," the professor said, as she walked up behind both Bada and Y/N. Both girls flinched at her presence, their eyes widening in surprise "Give me your cup"

"Oh my dear, you have the anchor," the seer broke into a grin

Y/N turned to Bada, her eyes narrowing at her.

"What does that mean?"

"How the fuck would I know?" Bada replied with a slight frown, her voice full of annoyance.

"It means you'll find love," the professor finally replied, her tone still somewhat vague as she handed Y/N the cup.

Y/N stared at her cup, her eyes widening in surprise as she suddenly realized that she could see the anchor. And that made her smile

Bada kept a close eye on Y/N, with every passing second she felt herself growing more and more amused by the sight of Y/N

"Are they smiling?" Mika asked, looking back and forth between Bada and Y/N, their expressions both filled with disbelief.

"I wish I had a camera," Mars said quietly to Mika, unable to contain the laughter that was slowly building up inside of them.

"Ouch!" Bada yelped when Y/N suddenly pinched her.

"What was that for?" she asked with a slight frown

"That was for lying and scaring me." Y/N replied but Bada reached out and tightened her tie

"Motherfu-"

"Y/N stop it!"

"Stop kicking my shin"

"Let me-

"Bada sto-"

Their eyes widened slightly as they heard that shattering sound, their gazes slowly shifting down to the ground.

As they realized that the crystal ball had fallen, Y/N gasped while Bada merely huffed in response.

Professor Trelawney moved closer to the two girls, her expression becoming more and more furious as she looked directly at Y/N and Bada.

"I can see potions class, that means we have detention," Y/N said quickly, taking Bada's cup and speaking as if she had just made the most obvious deduction in the world.

Professor Trelawney's expression shifted to one of annoyance as she heard Y/N's words, her anger slowly starting to fester.

"Detention for you two at 5!" she finally said, her words laced with a slight hint of disdain.

"Amazing," Bada groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "This is all your fault," she continued, turning to Y/N with a slightly frustrated tone.

"My fault?" Y/N scoffed, her tone shifting from casual to defensive as she looked up at Y/N.

"You started this"

"QUIET"

Bada rubbed her neck as she entered the Great Hall, her step slowing slightly as she looked around at the various student's filling the space around her.

It wasn't like she had many classes this day, but the divination class had left her feeling drained and tired

Professor Trelawney could often leave Bada feeling this way, and she found herself wanting to avoid that class at all costs.

"Why do I put myself through this?" she asked herself quietly

"You look like you ran a marathon," Dani suddenly popped up alongside Bada as they made their way towards the Slytherin table.

Bada let out a tired sigh "I wish I did that instead."

"She made her sit with Y/n" Mika exclaims, catching Dani by surprise.

"Are you serious?" Dani laughs and replies with disbelief. "She's got something against Bada, for sure."

"I got detention because of her," Bada explains with a frown

"Well, it's not like you were innocent either," Mika retorts "You were the one who pushed the crystal ball"

"Yoo you did what"

"I don't even care," Bada grumbled, pushing her food away.

"You're obsessed with her" Eli's voice spoke in front of her.

"Of course you would say that." Bada replied, facing Eli. "You're her best friend"

"I'm just telling you the truth." Eli shrugged, keeping her arms crossed in front of her.

"Stop that smirk, I know what goes on in your mind." Bada pointed her fork in Eli's direction.

"Yeah, whatever," Eli waved a hand dismissively. "I just came to talk about practice.

At the mention of quidditch Bada's eyes lit up "Tomorrow after classes, I talked to Snape he got us the pitch"

"Oh, so he is useful," Eli rolled her eyes.

Bada nodded, understanding that most Slytherins, including herself, weren't the biggest fans of Professor Snape. As the head of their house, though, he could grant special favors like the Quidditch pitch for practice or never taking points

"I'm kinda stressed about the game next week," Lila confided.

"Pff, why?" Bada smirked and waved a hand dismissively, clearly not understanding Lila's stress. "It's Gryffindor, come on," she replied.

Lila narrowed her eyes at Bada. "It's Gryffindor, You and I both know that they have excellent players. Especially with Y/N being captain. We can't underestimate them and go in with a cocky attitude."

"What's so special about Y/N being a captain?" Bada hissed. Y/N this Y/N that, Bada was tired of jer

"I thought you'd know by now," Eli remarked with a shrug. "You're always watching Y/N play," she added with a smirk.

"That's not true"

Lila spoke up, "It's true"

Bada turned to Dani, frowning. "Dani? I might need a little help here."

Dani didn't hesitate to turn the tables on Bada, giving her a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, I'm with them on this one," she replied.

Bada let out a frustrated sigh as she spoke. "Fine, okay, but it was only because I wanted to see the strategies she uses," she said.

She took a treacle tart from the table, her friends' eyes watching her closely. As she raised her head and saw their eyes staring straight at her, she felt herself freeze. "What?"

"Did yall hear that"

"Pfft strategies"

"It's 5:12"

"Is she really trying to lie to us"

"Five-twelve, Professor Trelawney is going to kill me," she mumbled as she tried her best to devour the entire tart in a single bite. "I- go- bye," she added, waving a hand dismissively and running off to try to get to the dungeons

She wasn't the type of person to worry about getting detention, but now that she was captain and a prefect, she hated the fact that she had to be on her best behavior. Upon seeing the dark door at the end of the hall, Bads took a deep breath and gave herself a moment to prepare before entering.

As the strong scent of potions hit Bada's nose, she had to try her best to keep herself from gagging. She noticed with dread the familiar Gryffindor sitting across from Professor Trelawney, upon hearing the cracking sound of the door, the two heads turned to face her

"You're late, Miss Bada," Professor Trelawney exclaimed, her hands on her hips.

"Sorry, Professor," Bada replied with a sweet smile. "I got held up talking to Prof Snape."

A loud sound was heard and Snape stepped away from the shelves in the corner of the room, holding some potions. His expression remained impassive, as always.

"Oh really?"

The slytherin girl quickly corrected herself, her eyes darting around the office. "What I meant to say was that I was trying to find Professor Snape, which was unsuccessful, as you can see," she continued, speaking quickly before the professor could interrupt. "That's- why I was late."

Y/N's eyes narrowed as she heard Bada's feeble excuse, but she remained silent. A low snort escaped her lips before she turned her attention back to Professor Trelawney

"You have an hour detention," Professor Trelawney stated "I want you to clean this class and also rearrange the potions according to their correct labels."

Bada's eyes widened as the seer continued. "Professor Snape will check with me later to make sure that you didn't use any wands"

"That's not fair!" Y/N spoke up, her tone whiny.

"At least make it 30 minutes," she continued, sounding desperate.

Professor Trelawney gave her a disapproving look before replying, "Wanna make it two hours?"

Bada quickly grabbed a broom, her expression sullen as she tried to hide her frustration. "Let's get it over with," she muttered, and began the tedious-sounding task.

The two girls handed over their wands to Snape, and the two professors left the class.

With Professor Trelawney and Professor Snape out of sight, Y/N turned to Bada "Unbelievable," she grumbled.

"I know," Bada replied.

Y/N heard a crack at the sharp turn of her head, and turned her eyes to face Bada. "Stop agreeing with me,"

With a huff of annoyance, Bada began cleaning the floor. "Fine, I wish she gave us two hours then,"

No one spoke as they cleaned the room. The only sounds that could be heard were the broom sweeping across the floor and the soft sound of cauldrons being handled in the distance.

Y/N was gently cleaning the cauldrons, glancing with curiosity at Bada's appearance.

The Slytherin's hair was tied up in a low ponytail, her bangs in a slightly messy state. She rarely wore the uniform correctly, but today, it felt different to Y/N.

Bada's shirt hung low around her frame, and the green tie laid loose. The Slytherin's appearance caught Y/N's eye for a moment, as if she found Bads attractive. Though she would never have said it out loud,

Y/N was the opposite of her, with her uniform always put together and looking proper.

She wasn't used to being alone with the Slytherin girl, and as a result, she felt somewhat uncomfortable with the silence. In an attempt to lessen her nerves, she cleared her throat and asked, "What's your favorite color?"

"Are you for real?" Bada's face turned up towards Y/N as she spoke.

The Gryffindor gave her an annoyed glance, "Well, it's a simple question," she explained. "Mine is red."

Bads smirked slightly, one eyebrow raising in amusement. "Very Gryffindor of you," she repeated, a slight edge to her voice as she turned back to sweeping the floor.

"So...?" Y/N trailed off as she continued to sweep. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, but she listened carefully as Bads answered the question.

The Slytherin's voice was quiet, but her tone was confident as she replied, "Green."

Y/N smiled, repeating Bada's words "Very Slytherin of you," she teased, making the other girl smile slightly in response.

"Your turn"

Bada's face was full of annoyance as her eyes went to Y/N. She let out a loud sigh as she spoke, her frustration already running high. "What are your strategies for the next game?"

Y/N dropped the cauldron. "Hey, simple questions," she replied, her voice a bit higher than usual.

"Your favorite professor?"

"Minnie"

"Your strategies for the next game?"

"To beat you," Y/N replied, moving over to the various tools that had been left out.

Bada dropped the broom, feeling a bit frustrated with the detention. She was now seated in front of Y/N, watching the Gryffindor in close proximity. "Hey, I tried," she shrugged

"What are you doing?" Y/N looked up at Bada, her expression revealing her disbelief.

Bads narrowed her eyes, looking irritated as she responded, "Staring."

Y/N couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. "Oh, thank you for your clear answer," she said sarcastically. "I never would have known that on my own. Why aren't you cleaning?"

"Oh, come on, Y/N," Bada huffed. "I'm not gonna clean the entire class," she complained as she looked around the classroom. "Look how big it is,"

"I don't care," Y/N responded quickly, putting the tools and rag in front of her. "You won't get in trouble with Snape, but I will, so start."

"Or what" Bada challenged waiting for her reaction

"You might regret it" her mouth turned into a playful grin

Without waiting for an answer, Y/N headed towards the small storeroom in the corner, struggling to carry five different potions. Bada, however, was too busy admiring Y/N to bother helping her.

The Slytherin's eyes roamed Y/N's entire body, taking in the way her skirts hugged her hips and the length of her legs. There was something enticing about the way she carried herself, something that made her want to keep staring. Bads even wondered how her body would feel against hers, what it would be like to touch her skin and run her fingers over her curves

Bada's eyes travelled to Y/N's face, unable to deny that she was one of the most beautiful girls in Hogwarts. Even though they had a bit of a competition going on, Bada couldn't help but notice how captivating Y/N was. The shorter girl's facial features were beyond compare, with sharp eyes that cut through the air and high cheekbones that added a touch of elegance to her appearance. Bada thought to herself: If anyone was the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts, it had to be Y/N.

"Are you even listening to me?" Y/N's voice snapped Bada back into reality.

"Well, yeah," she replied, sounding a bit unsure of whether or not she was actually being truthful.

"Doesn't seem like it," Y/N repeated with a mischievous smile. "Come help me hold the door. Just don't let it close otherwise can't go out"

The Gryffindor rolled her eyes at the charm that Professor Snape had put in place. In case the door locks no one from inside can open it. While it was annoying, it was also smart.

With a heavy sigh, Bada moved towards the small closet, stomping along the way. She walked past Y/N and held the doors open, determined not to talk to the Gryffindor any more than necessary.

Y/N stood now inside the closet, on top of a chair putting various potions away. She had to wonder just how long it would take them to clean up the whole of Potions class. At least now they had each other's help.

"Work faster," Bada grumbled, leaning against the door. Her eyes were fixed on Y/N

"I'm sorry, I'm the one doing everything here," Y/N answered, turning to look at tall girl. She was surprised by the Slytherin's attitude, but wasn't about to back down from a fight.

"Excuse me?"

Y/N narrowed her eyes at Bada, she wasn't paying attention to where she was placing the potion. With a quick motion, the Gryffindor moved the vial towards the shelf, accidentally missing and knocking it over. The fall caused her to lose her balance, and Bada's eyes widened as she saw the incident happen.

"Fuck- DON'T"

"YO"

Bada quickly left her place, seeing Y/N lose her balance. She didn't hesitate to reach out to catch the Gryffindor before she fell, but the moment she did, the door of the closet unexpectedly closed. The darkness felt stiflingly close and Bads felt a twinge of panic

Y/N's heart felt like it was about to burst inside her chest. She couldn't decide which part of the situation was causing her heart to pound: the fact that they were now stuck in the closet, the fall itself, or the feeling of Bada holding her bridal style.

The darkness wasn't overwhelming, but thanks to a crack in the door, there was just enough light for Y/N to see Bada's face clearly.

"Um," Y/N started, and Bada's eyes went to hers in an instant.

In a sheer panic, the Slytherin hadn't realized just how close their faces were until it was too late. Y/N had her arms wrapped around the older girl's neck and Bada was holding her tightly.

Both of them found themselves rooted to the spot, their eyes locked on the other. Neither one could find the strength or energy to pull away from the close proximity they found themselves in, both feeling trapped in the moment.

Y/N's gaze darted to Bada's parted lips for a quick second, and for that split moment, a surge of heat travelled through her body. She quickly looked back up, her eyes focused on Bada's face.

Why did she like the feeling of being this close to her

Bada felt like she was going crazy as well. Her stomach was in knots and her knees were weak. She could feel the warmth of Y/N's breath on her face, a closeness she was starting to find herself enjoying. She was sure she was losing her mind because she knew Y/N hated her, just like Bada hated Y/N

If they hated each other so much, why did she find herself imagining what it would be like to taste the girl she despited so much ? Bada was sure she was going insane, the mere thought of being intimate with Y/N ridiculous and unthinkable. And yet, there she was, imagining what Y/N's lips would be like against her own.

"What the hell!" the taller girl yelled, dropping Y/N to the ground without even warning her.

"Why the fuck did you just drop me?"

"Why'd you pinch me?"

The girls immediately reverted back to their previous hostile and combative state, looking at each other with daggers in their eyes. It didn't take much to get them worked up and pissed off at one another, especially when it came to the tiniest of infractions.

Y/N got up, dusting off her now-dirty skirt while trying to salvage whatever dignity she had left "It's all your fault"

Laughter filled the room as Bada held up her hands in defense. "Me? Who decided to twirl on the chair, hmm?"

Y/N was furious. "Because you wouldn't help," she snapped at Bada.

Bada scoffed and shook her head. "Don't put it on me now, when it's clearly your fault," she said.

Y/N balled her hands into fists. "I'm not doing this with you," she said, frustrated. "Just forget it. Whatever, it doesn't matter."

"It does matter," Bada muttered, leaning back against the wooden wall. Despite the distance between them, her body was still close to Y/N's. "We are stuck here until Snape comes"

Y/N hated small spaces, but she had no choice but to suck it up. There was no way she was going to let Bada know about her claustrophobia. She knew she'd never hear the end of it. Even now, as she squeezed herself into a tiny space, she could almost feel Bada's mocking gaze on her.

"So what's your favorite number"

"Don't even start"

Y/N sighed and looked away. "I'm trying to make this less boring," she said, trying to hide her frustration.

"Well, don't," Bada replied, her tone still cold. "You're making it worse."

"You're such a bitch," Y/N said and Bada only smirked in response.

"Im honored," Bada replied with a small curtsey, her sarcasm apparent.

"You look like an idiot"

"You are one"

"Jump off a cliff"

"You're such a sad case"

"You jerk"

"Snooty bitch"

The two girls' mouths never stopped throwing curses at each other. Y/N was so caught up in her anger that she didn't realize how close she now was to Bada.

Bada was feeling the same anger, even if she wasn't showing it. Her eyes were flashing with defiance as she continued to hurl invective at Y/N. They were both consumed by the moment, completely caught up in their emotions.

Suddenly, Bada stepped closer, pressing up against Y/N.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise as she suddenly realized how close she was to Bada. She had been so caught up in the moment that she hadn't noticed their proximity until now. Despite her shock, she didn't move away.

Bada didn't notice how she had pinned Y/N against the wall. Despite her frustration, she found herself taking in every moment of Y/N's features. The full lips, sharp eyes, and plush hair - everything was so enticing.

They stood inches apart, pressed together by Bada's arms. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she remained transfixed by Y/N's beauty.

She didn't move, she didn't want to move

No words were spoken, but every look spoke a thousand emotions. Just a week ago, Y/N would've laughed at the idea of this position - trapped under the one she hated the most.

But now, she wasn't sure. Could she still call it hate?

"Bada..?" Bada felt her knees threatening to give out as Y/N's gaze settled on her.

Y/N's lips were slightly parted, her breath coming out in short, sharp inhales. Her eyes were wide, like those of a deer caught in the headlights, completely enthralled by her.

"Yeah.."

They were leaning closer, both wanting this so much to their own surprise. Their noses touched, and the air between them was suddenly alive with a tingling energy.

This is it, Y/N thought to herself, this is where she loses her sanity

She closed her eyes, trying to focus on slowing down her pounding heart. But it was useless; her heart continued to race, and every thought she tried to control went out the window as she gave in to her feelings.

Y/N's heart was racing as their lips brushed, but she couldn't contain her excitement for long. She almost whined at the older girl's teasing.

"What in the world are you two doing?"

Y/N and Bada quickly separated from each other when a piercing voice interrupted their moment. Bada's eyes darted to the potions professor who was glaring at them. Y/N stepped back in dismay, her face red with embarrassment.

This was going just great

Y/N gulped as her mind went blank. She had no idea what to say, and she hoped that the girl in front of her took the lead

She looked over at Bada who was avoiding her gaze. "We got stuck..." Bada said, trailing off. She seemed to be searching for words but had none to say.

"I can see that," the professor said slowly, his voice clipped and sharp. He took a few steps backward but continued to glare at them.

"I suggest you two leave," he added with a cold glance.

The professor didn't need to say any more. Y/N and Bada quickly exited the closet, their heads hung low in shame. Y/N grabbed her bag and took off, running away from the awkward situation. She didn't want to face Bada, and she had no idea what to say to her.

Y/N only wished that the next few days would pass without any mention of what had happened. She wanted to forget, to pretend that everything was the same as it was before.

But that might be a pipe dream, as her mind kept going back to that moment. And the thought of seeing Bada again made her heart flutter, reminding her that she couldn't ignore her new feelings so easily.

Bada was still sitting in class when the professor told her to wait. She was shaking, filled with anxiety and nerves. She knew that the professor wasn't dumb, and he must have known what was going on

"Miss Lee"

Bada snapped her attention to the professor who hadn't lost his stern glare. "Yes, Professor," she responded, making sure her voice didn't shake in fear.

The professor remained silent for a moment, his gaze piercing and critical. Finally, he said, "I hope you know that whatever you two were about to do isn't right"

Bada gulped, but she was determined not to back down. "We weren't doing anything, sir," she said, her voice shaky yet defiant. "The closet is small as you can see, so we had to squish in a little closer."

The professor's eyes narrowed, and he took a step towards her. "If you say so, Miss Lee." he said in a cold tone. "I only need to send an owl for your parents to be here."

Bada felt a chill run down her spine as she realized how vulnerable she was in this situation.

"Like I said," she repeated with an equally firm glare. "It was nothing."

"Good, you can leave now"

Bada didn't hesitate. She grabbed her bag and rushed out. Her fingers were shaking. Telling her parents? Hell no, she thought to herself.

She had already gone through hell and back at home, and she didn't need much more of that stress on her plate. Her parents would lose their minds if they found out that she almost kissed a girl. They would kill her

Kissing Y/N... She wasn't about to kiss her right...?

Bada's mind was racing with excuses to convince herself that what had happened between her and Y/N meant nothing. But every excuse fell flat.

She hated Y/N. Y/N hated her. That's how it always was... Even those excuses no longer made sense. She couldn't stop thinking about Y/N; she couldn't stop longing for Y/N's lips on hers again.

But was it hate that she felt all these years towards Y/N?

[goldenempyrean]

Hello, would you mind writing a fic with Sicknat x reader on a mission? with phrases like: “I'm never sick” “it's just a little tired” “it's all Tony's fault. I will kill him” “take care of yourself” ?

Caring For A Widow

〚 Notes - Jeez, this request is old! I’m gonna try and get through some of my old ones over the next week :D I thought I'd start with this as I haven't written my fav redhead in a while! :) 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Natasha let's you take care of her when a mission goes sideways. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1044 〛

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“I swear I’m gonna kill Tony.” Came the annoyed grumble from the redhead leaning against your chest, “This is his fault.” She sniffled, rubbing her nose roughly against the sleeve of her hoodie, rolling her eyes when you chided her for not using a tissue instead. 

To be fair to her though, this wasn’t exactly the best of situations. You were both huddled in a tiny safe house in the middle of nowhere, having just narrowly escaped an ambush during your mission and to make things worse, Nat wasn’t feeling great. 

She’d mentioned it in passing a few days ago that her throat had hurt but it had been such a busy few days you hadn’t thought to check up on her. Of course, she hadn’t told you when it had gotten worse, she was Natasha after all - as stoic as ever. But now she was here, miserably ill in a cold, unfamiliar house just longing to be back home. 

“I’m never sick,” Nat mumbled solemnly, though her congested voice and the deepening circles under her eyes betrayed her. She curled tighter against you, seeking warmth in the drafty safe house. 

“I know, I know,” You replied softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her clammy forehead. “Your timing sucks.”  

She lifted her head just enough to shoot you a look but with the way she was cuddled against you, it held no malice behind it. “Have you told the team we need extraction already?” Nat changed the subject and pushed herself up a little to peer at the laptop which you’d been quietly working on as it sat on your knees. 

You nodded, tilting the screen down so she could see it properly, “They know. Steve wants to be cautious of using air space since they clearly knew we were coming so he’s organising us a car instead.” The redhead stifled a yawn as you explained and you paused to lean down and press a gentle kiss to her forehead, “It’ll be a few hours before it arrives, so we’ve just got to camp out here for a bit.” 

Natasha shivered against you a little, pulling her hoodie a little closer to her. “You can't shake those chills can you baby?” 

“No.” She mumbled thickly, unable to hold back a second shiver. 

She turned away to muffle a rough cough into her arm and you gave a sympathetic pout in return before having an idea, “Alright, stay put," You instructed gently, pressing a comforting kiss to her temple before carefully slipping out from beneath her. 

You knew that she needed something to soothe that throat of hers, so what better than tea. The kitchen of the safe house was sparse, but you smiled to yourself as you managed to find a small kettle and some basic supplies. This’ll do. 

You filled the kettle and set it to boil, whilst it began to heat up, you returned to Nat's side. "Come on sweetheart, let's get you into a hot bath," You said gently, offering her a hand to stand up. 

The redhead hesitated, clearly not wanting to move from her spot. It was strange to see her so lethargic, “A bath?" She echoed, her voice hoarse and congested. 

“Mhm.” Your hum of agreement was followed by small smile, “You like taking baths when you’re not feeling well.” She couldn’t argue with that, instead sniffled quietly before pushing her knuckles up to the underside of her nose before stifling a sharp sneeze. 

“It’ll help clear up some of that congestion too.” You added when she groaned quietly to herself, sniffling at her red nose again. The safe house was small, that couldn’t be argued but at least this one was relatively modern meaning luckily for you two, the hot water was actually hot instead of barely lukewarm as many of the other houses had. 

It didn’t take long to run. Once the bath was ready, you helped her ease into the tub. Natasha murmured a grateful “Thank you” and let out a small sigh as the warm water seemed to relieve the tension in her shoulders and muscles. 

While she soaked, you returned to the tiny kitchen area, preparing the tea. You found some honey and added a generous spoonful, knowing it would soothe her sore throat. As the tea steeped, you went back to check on her. 

"How are you feeling?" you asked, leaning against the old, wooden doorframe. 

Natasha had her eyes closed, the steam from the bath working wonders on her congestion. "Better," she admitted, her voice already sounding a touch clearer. "Thank you." 

“Don’t fall asleep in there, let me know if you need anything, okay?” You smiled and left her to relax for a while longer, returning to pour the tea into a mug. You knew Nat appreciated everything you were doing to take care of her, but you also knew how important it was for her to decompress alone for a little.  

By the time she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel with damp hair clinging to her neck, you were waiting with the warm drink in hand. 

She accepted the mug gratefully, taking a careful sip. "This is nice," she murmured, her voice softening a little as her sleepy eyes blinked to keep herself focused. You knew the residual heat from the bath and the tea were probably making her tired. 

"Good," You smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her back to the makeshift bed. "Now, let's get you wrapped up in some blankets and you can nap until extraction gets here.” 

It seemed she was too tired to argue about napping (she usually would make a fuss about wanting to be on alert just incase) and instead, she allowed you to tend to her a little as you tucked her in. Natasha settled against the pillows; the tea cradled in her hands. You sat beside her, one hand gently stroking her damp hair. 

"I still want to kill Tony," She mumbled sleepily, though there was no real bite in her words, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before she fell asleep against you. 

You chuckled softly, kissing her forehead once more, “We'll save that for when you're feeling better." 

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