#I shouldn’t have to go to work I should jut be allowed to play my silly little game <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[cerulean-crow]

I would just like to apologize in advance for the person I am going to become now that totk is in my life. This game will fundamentally change who I am as a person <3

[theitgirlnetwork]

Earn It

Ch. 7: Heaven's Happiness

Note: As always, the love this story receives amazes me. Thank you so much for reading. Thank you for the notes, the reblogs, the comments and messages. Interacting makes this so much fun! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. There will be a lot more time skips from here on out! So you'll all get to know the gang as adults. I will ask that if anyone wants to use my story as inspo for one of your own, or anything else, you let me know, it's more fun that way. I also don't post this or any of my other stuff anywhere else. Once again, hi to my best friend who now reads this story, love you miss girl <3 Anywayyy, I hope you all enjoy! Thanks for reading <3

Taglist:@spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

Warnings: Some strong language

“She’s very gifted, Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock. The best I’ve seen at this age in my career. You could have a professional dancer on your hands.”

The three adults watch from the observing window as Heaven demonstrates Grand Adage for a group of her peers. Her little back straight and stomach tight as she accomplishes the move with a stern discipline that many adults struggle to achieve. 

“We know. So why is she playing Clara?” 

“Beatrice-”

“I’m just wondering, Luca, I mean I just believe it’s our right as her parents to ask Madame Sidorov why our 9 year old daughter is teaching the snowflakes that are twice her age the dance she doesn’t get to be a part of.” 

Madame Sidorov swallows hard as she brings her clipboard to her chest. She’s been running her youth dance company for over 20 years. Many of her dancers have gone on to be successful, working artists. But she’d never seen talent like Heaven Whitlock. The girl came into her studio at the age of 6, excited to show her that she already knew how to go en pointe even though children really shouldn’t and normally couldn’t do it until they were 11. Madame Sidorov had been overcome with excitement. She had a star on her hands. 

The older woman also learned that Beatrice Whitlock also knew what she had. The teacher has dealt with gunner parents before, but none like the stern young woman who trailed in behind her prodigy daughter with her nose in the sky and demands on her tongue. 

“Mrs. Whitlock, Clara is the lead role in the Nutcracker-”

“Bullshit, Sidorov, we both know that the prima dancer role is the Sugar Plum Fairy and the arguably most complicated dance is the Waltz of the Snowflakes, the dance you had my daughter demonstrating yesterday. So,” Beatrice’s heels click as she shifts her weight from one leg to another, hip jutting out. “Why is your best dancer playing the dumb little girl who spends most of the ballet watching everyone else dance?”

“I think my wife is frustrated because we all know our daughter is talented. So we’re having a hard time understanding why those talents aren’t being showcased.” Luca cuts, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist in an attempt to calm her. 

“Heaven is only 9. We need to allow the older dancers to play the more advanced roles-” 

“Then they should be better.” Beatrice interrupts, swinging her purse over her shoulder, pushing her shades up onto her head. “How about this, until your priorities are straight, we can take Heaven somewhere where things are fair and you can dust off your pointe shoes and start teaching again instead of using my child.”

“But, all of my friends go there.” Heaven whines as they speed their way down the highway for the hour drive back to their home. “I don’t want to find another studio.”

“I know, Stellina, but we want you to have every opportunity. Wouldn’t you want more chances to dance?”

Heaven is stubbornly silent in the backseat, her step father softly pats her foot, reaching back from the driver seat. Her mother turns to face her, a noncommittal look on her face. “Baby, when you came to Mommy a couple years ago, what did you say you wanted to be when you grew up?”

The younger girl bites her lip, tugging irritably at her seatbelt. “A ballerina.”

“Just a ballerina?”

Heaven huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, looking away from her mother. “The best ballerina ever.”

“The best ballerina. Ever. And Mommy and Papino have worked very hard to make that possible for you, yes? Practice everyday, paying for lessons, buying you everything you need. But you’re a big girl now. You’re going to have to learn how to work very hard too if you want to be the best, baby. We can only take you part of the way. You need to think super hard about whether this is what you want. You need to think about if you’re going to earn it.”

Beatrice’s voice is soft and kind, but her words are harsh. She turns around, not waiting for a response from her daughter, satisfied that her whines and complaints had quieted to obedient, stifled little sniffles. 

Heaven stares down at her hands through wet lashes, her bottom lip wobbling as she smothers her sadness. She does want it. She wants to be the best ballerina ever. She is going to be the best ballerina ever. And she’s grateful. Papino and Mommy had given a lot. And she won’t disappoint them. So she’d go to a new dance studio. She would make new friends. And if not, that wasn’t what she was there for. 

Luca Whitlock frowns as he drums his finger on the steering wheel, looking forward at the traffic ahead of them. “How about some ice cream, Stellina? Might cheer you up?” 

Identical sets of brown eyes meet in the rearview mirror. The little girl in the backseat simply sinks against the leather, forcing indifference into her voice. “No thank you, Papino, I’m…not hungry.”

“And you have your, um,” Heaven scratches her head, mentally scrolling through the list of items Tashi would need at home. She was going to spend the first few weeks post-knee surgery with her parents. Heaven had stayed with her girlfriend for the days following the injury, lying to her school and telling them she had a death in the family that required her to take some time away. She just wanted to get Tashi settled before she headed back to UCLA. 

The dancer had assumed that their boyfriend would emerge out of the shadows, and use his charm to weasel out of an apology, ultimately taking over Tashi’s care since he had the most free time.

Unfortunately, he continued to disappoint her. So, instead, she lingered. Slept in Tashi’s bed with her, unwrapped and rewrapped her knee. Cleaned her dorm, brought her any work she missed. The girls in the athletic dorm thought she’d moved in. But now, Tashi’s parents were here to take her home for a little while. 

“I have everything, Hev, you made sure of that.” 

Her heart aches. Tashi sounds so tired. So down. Heaven is so frustrated. She’s ready to move past this part. She wants Tashi to just be better. She tells herself over and over that the surgery would fix it. That once she got the treatment she needs and a little physical therapy, she’d be back to where she was, ready to take over the world with her. 

“I’ll see you when we open, right? You’re still gonna come?” Heaven rocks on her feet, careful not to bump Tashi’s crutch. “You don’t have to, you’ve seen me do most of the dances and I know it might be hard to travel-”

“Babe, I’ll be there. Okay? I need to go.” Tashi lifts Heaven’s chin, giving her a halfhearted peck before turning to climb into her dad’s truck, gesturing for Heaven to stop when she goes to try helping her into the high seated vehicle. “I’ll call you. Why don’t you have Art help you get your stuff from my room? He probably wants to say goodbye.”

“T, are we gonna talk more about that-”

“I told you,” Tashi shrugs, hand on the car door handle, her pajama pants poorly covering the large brace on her knee. “M’not mad. It’s fine.”

It’s not fine. Heaven isn’t stupid. Ever since Tashi and Patrick found out that she’d done…stuff with Art, Patrick has been radio silent, and all Tashi does is encourage Heaven to spend more time with Art who she was decidedly avoiding. She’d gotten…caught up in the infirmary. The combination of the heightened emotions and Art’s soft attention and care caused another moment of weakness. She’d accidentally said something that she’d been denying to herself ever since, and thanking the good lord above that Art had apparently missed. She was determined not to tempt fate for a…fourth time?

Which is why she’d gone back to Tashi’s room and started packing her stuff and straightening up without alerting the blond tennis player who’d been haunting her dreams as of late. And it’s also why she almost pissed herself when he’d somehow materialized in the dorm room doorway, rapping his knuckles against the light wood, in a failed attempt not to startle her.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, but, um, Tashi texted me and said you might need some help getting this stuff to your car.” 

He looks good. She can’t ignore that, but she can refuse to get caught up in staring at him as he leans in the doorway, muscled arms on full display as he leans in the frame, a poorly hidden pout on his face. 

“I’m good.” Heaven shrugs, slinging her bookbag over her shoulder, trying to lift her purse and her other two bags at the same time, only to have all of her belongings fall out of her purse. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, let me help you.” Art bends and starts grabbing the miscellaneous items from her bag.

“I can do it-”

“It’ll be quicker-”

“Art.” She huffs, tucking her hair behind her ears and sitting criss-crossed on the floor. “I meant it, when I said that I was done…Tashi might be trying to teach me a lesson in some kind of twisted way, and I’m sorry you’re getting mixed up in it, but I’m…I can’t be around you and be with her at the same time. Clearly, I can’t handle boundaries.”

“So…so what does that mean? Not talking at all? Is that what you want?” He asks, shoulders dropping, eyes filled with hurt as he inches closer. “Heaven-”

“Sure. If that’s what it takes for it to get you to get I can’t do” she gestures between them. “This, then fine, let’s say that’s what I want.” 

Art clenches his jaw, blinking quickly as he tries to think something he could say. Anything to change her mind. “Heaven, please, I’ll…we’d be friends. We can just, I can’t…please don’t.” he finishes, giving up on trying to articulate his thoughts through his panicked haze. Through all of this back and forth, chasing and running, he’d forgotten the chance that once Patrick was out of the picture, that he might get written out too. 

His eyes scan her face as she shakes her head, shoving the last of her stuff back into her purse and standing. “Art, it’s not like I don’t wanna be around you. But stuff is getting too complicated. This shit is just too much. I haven’t been back to my school in days, Tashi’s leg is fucked and I don’t want to make things any harder for her, Patrick is just fucking gone and I really can’t handle anything more. So when you say we can be friends, I need you to mean it. I need you to tell me we can do that.”

Art finds himself in between a rock and a hard place. He wants to be honest. He wants to acknowledge that he can’t see himself getting over her within the foreseeable future. He wants to tell her that he’s glad she’s probably not with Patrick anymore, and as bad as he feels about Tashi’s leg, he quite frankly does not understand why it has to change anything between them. 

But he’s desperate. Art is humiliated to admit it to himself but, he would do anything to keep the line of communication between him and Heaven open so if he had to appease her by saying that they would be platonic despite the fact that he quite literally gets dizzy standing next to her, fine. Like he’d told himself before, he was playing the long game, collecting the points that matter. So, offering her a tight smile, Art sticks his large hand out to her, encasing her smaller one and jumping to stand at his full height. “Friends. But, friends don’t ignore each other for days, Hev.” 

Heaven bites her lower lip, choosing to ignore the blue-brown eyes that drop to her mouth before looking back up at her and shaking his hand. “Okay. Yeah.” The pair slowly pull their hands apart, Heaven shivers as she feels the calluses on his palm slide across her hand. “As my friend, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Is,” the girl rolls her eyes to the ceiling, releasing a heavy sigh. “Is she done? You saw it, and you obviously know more than me…is that something she can keep playing with her knee like that?”

He can’t bring himself to dash the hope she was clearly harboring on the behalf of Tashi but the girl’s recovery is…unlikely. Art tucks his hands in his pockets, tilting his head as he chooses his words carefully. “Tashi’s strong, and really fucking good, if anyone is going to recover from that kind of injury, it’s her.”

“So…no.” Heaven sits down on Tashi’s bed, staring forward at the wall that’s littered with pictures of some of the best tennis players in the world. A shaky breath leaves her as she stares at the professional posters, accompanied by the posters Adidas had made with Tashi on them. 

“You’re a really good girlfriend.” Art whispers.

“I cheated on her with you. I’m pretty much the worst girlfriend ever.”

“No, I mean, you’re really invested in her. In the thing she loves, like you care about tennis the same way we do, f-for her.” 

Heaven smiles softly to herself, grabbing Tashi’s pillow and hugging it to her body. “I fell in love with Tashi watching her play tennis. Just like everyone else does.” she jokes, poking Art’s leg with her toe. “When I’m watching her, it’s like I’m getting to witness something. It’s…corny but tennis is her calling. She goes to some other little world when she’s playing, and, even though I’m not a tennis player, she takes me with her. It’s this feeling of closeness that I can’t get anywhere else, you know?” Or at least, nowhere else I’m willing to talk about.

He does know. Art does know exactly what she’s talking about. He felt it. Once, when he and Patrick sat and watched Tashi play for the first time. It’s an all encompassing feeling. He was so caught up in watching her every move that he hadn’t looked anywhere but at Tashi. If he’d just looked three rows in front of him he’d have seen the girl in front of him now. 

The second time, the feeling was more intense, more of a sensation than a mere feeling. It was when he was sitting in an empty theater, watching Heaven dance, just for him. Art had never felt the things he’d felt before. He’d never had the thoughts he thought. He’d held his breath for the entire minute and 26 seconds that she gave him. He sat on the edge of the red, fabric auditorium seat, scared to blink and get left behind. He wanted to capture the feeling and keep it forever. And he has. He’s kept it. And everytime she gives him another taste, a smile, a kiss, a laugh, a touch, he goes back to being alone in the theater, experiencing euphoria for the very first time. 

If that’s the feeling Tashi gives Heaven, then he’s very jealous. And he wants it.

And that’s another new feeling the girls introduced him to. He’d never wanted something like her…or…uh them. 

Jealousy. Longing. Needing. 

Art knew exactly what Patrick was talking about when he said he liked seeing him fired up about something. Because, as much as he loves tennis, it didn’t make his blood boil. It didn’t make his stomach muscles clench with intensity. He didn’t feel that satisfying nervous burn. Not until…

Art needs to test a theory.

He scratches the back of his head, looking down at his sneakers before clearing his throat. “Uh, so, Hev, I’ve got a match this afternoon. And, I know things are weird right now, so you might think I’m a dick for even asking-”

“Arthur.”

“Come watch me play.” He blurts. Heaven’s eyes widen and he finds himself taking a tentative step forward as if he was trying to soothe a spooked horse. “I don’t know, I just figured…I mean, you might miss watching someone play, with Tashi taking a break and Patrick being…himself.” When Heaven continues to look unsure, Art puts himself out there again, trying to entice her the way he knows how. He moves to stand in front of where she’s seated on the bed, crouching to be just below her level. “When I win it will be for you. I’d like you to be there.” Art carefully tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear, before grabbing her chin between his thumb and index finger, moving her face around playfully. “As a friend.”

As a friend. That’s exactly what Heaven repeats to herself, over and over when she carries her bags over to the tennis courts, placing one foot onto the metal bleacher and opting to sit in the seats down on the front to rows. Just so she can see better. And it’ll be easier to slip out before the match is over. Besides, she couldn’t bring herself to sit with the women’s tennis players towards the top. All she could think of when she saw them was that it should have been one of their legs cracking instead of Tashi’s and it didn’t exactly make her feel like a great person. 

She slips into the seat and crosses her legs, struggling as she pushes her overnight bag under the low seat.

“Hey, let me help you.” A blonde girl crouches beside her, pushing along with Heaven and getting the back underneath. 

“Oh,” Heaven offers her a bright smile. “Thanks, I have to head back to my school after this so I have all my shit with me, didn’t think I was gonna come.”

“No problem,” the girl chirps, plopping down into the seat next to Heaven. “Sara. Myles’ girlfriend, he’s playing after this first match. Whose girlfriend are you?”

Tashi’s name is on the tip of her tongue. She swears it is. But the girl is clearly talking about the players that were starting to filter in, with their red shirts that Heaven could see fitting Art perfectly from her seat. His blond curls flopping as his head moves side to side, she knows he’s looking for her. Heaven gives a soft wave to catch his attention and can’t help but match his smile when he spots her, waving back. “I’m not dating a player.”

“Well these are girlfriend seats, so don’t let anyone else hear you say that.” Sara says lightly, pulling her shades down over her eyes. 

Heaven turns to look at her, tearing her eyes away from Art stretching. “What the hell are girlfriend seats?”

“They’re seats…where girlfriends sit?” The girl sits up to get a pixelated picture of her boyfriend on her razor. “You know, the players’ girls sit, so they can see them. No wonder I don’t recognize you, you’re a plant.”

“I’m Heaven, I don’t go here, I’m just watching my friend before I go back to UCLA.” 

“Oh, shit,” Sara’s eyes widen in realization. “You’re Donaldson’s girl right? Myles’ cousin Kyle, trust me I know the names kill me too, but he was saying how Donaldson brought his hot girlfriend out with them the other night and was dick trying to show off for her.” 

“Again, we’re friends, m’not his girl.”

“Hey, Hev!” Sara ducks her head, watching out of her peripheral as Art jogs over, racket in hand, pushing up onto the fence so he could be eye level with Heaven. “Match is about to start, kiss for good luck?” He grins, holding his racket handle out to her. He playfully pouts until she gives in, leaning forward and pressing her glossed lips to the handle, looking at Art through her lashes. The blond wets his bottom lip and pulls the racket back. “Eyes on me, okay?” 

“Whatever, just remember you promised me a win.” Heaven giggles, crossing her arms as she settles back into her seat. Art beams even wider, hopping down off of the fence and jogging backwards back to where the players sit. “And spit out your gum!”

Faintly, she could hear Art’s teammates reprimanding him for ‘making the rest of them look bad’ and she smiles to herself, bringing a hand up to play with her name chain.

“Girl.” Sara snorts.

“Just friends.”

“Yeah sure.” the blonde girl shrugs, pushing her shades back down. “Don’t tell me, tell Donaldson.”

Art delivers a win, as promised. It wasn’t hard, really. One thing Patrick had gotten right was that college kids weren’t really much competition. And maybe he had some very good motivation sitting out in the crowd with her eyes locked on him. So he showed off a little, served a little harder, made the other guy run a little bit more than necessary. He could always explain that away as wanting to impress his coach and any possible reps looking to endorse him. And sure, he might’ve looked over at her for each point he wrenched out of the poor guy from Temple’s hands but…well he didn’t have an excuse for that other than it gave him a rush knowing that she is sitting pretty, legs crossed, perched with the other girlfriends, watching him, rooting for him, breathing heavy for him. 

When matchpoint is declared his, Art smiles cockily, strolling up to the net and shaking hands with his opponent before making his way over to Heaven again, this time climbing completely over the fence, leaving behind his tennis bag on the opposite side of the court. This time she stands, catching him a little as he lands in the small space in front of her and the fence. “Well?” he pants, lifting his hat to adjust his hair before placing it back on his head. 

“Well, what? You want me to say congratulations?” Heaven grins, sweeping some sweat that dripped from his forehead off of his cheek. “Congratulations, Arthur.” she hums.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah,” Sarah calls from her seat, smiling smugly up at the pair. “Good job, Donaldson. Why don’t you try to pass some of that mojo to Myles, huh? Getting kinda tired of coming out to these things just to watch you play.”

“I’ve got a lucky charm, that’s all.” Art nudges Heaven, wrapping an arm around her waist so she doesn’t stumble too far away from him.

“Yeah, so, lucky, or the other guy sucks and Art is good-”

“No, I think you’re my lucky charm, don’t try to ruin it-” Art laughs, taking his hat off again, his messy blond hair falling all over as he places it on Heaven’s head, holding her to him as she squirms.

“Ew, Arthur, it's sweaty!”

“It’s the fruit of my labor, Hev, that win was for you!”

Sarah scoffs, shaking her head as she watches the pair, leaning away to avoid getting hit when Art lifts Heaven, swinging her to the opposite side of him to help her get to the steps before grabbing her bags. As she sees him guide her by her waist down the bleachers, both of them cheesing as they chat as if no one else was there and she realizes that Art is leaving the courts before his fellow teammates play, Sarah commends her own instincts.

And then she makes a note to herself to start saving the returning girlfriend seat next to hers for Heaven. The other girls were sort’ve bitches, anyway.

“So, I should head back.” Heaven leans back against the driver door of her car, clasping her hands together behind her. “But, this got my mind off of things for a little, so thank you.”

“It’s what friends are for.” Art laughs, stepping in front of her, hand behind his neck.

“Pft, you’re such a dick. Aren’t you supposed to be the nice one?”

“I am nice.” he smiles, rocking on his feet, feeling his chest tighten as Heaven bites her rose petal bottom lip again. His eyes soften as he stares down at her delicate features and thinks about how right things feel when they’re together. How he hasn’t felt this good in…ever. “So nice, I’m not gonna say what I want to say. I’m just gonna say,” he takes her hand gently, toying with her fingers, pushing her thumb with his own, “goodnight.”

Heaven’s lips part, and looking up into his eyes, how kindly he looks down at her. What she can see in them almost does it. She almost got lost, just like that. But a buzz in her jacket pocket has her grabbing her phone and the message has her taking a small step backward and placing her hand on her door handle. “Goodbye, Art.”

“One two three, one two three, and Peter please keep up with Heaven, Heaven a little less hatred on your face, thank you, two three and up, I want her in the air-” Madame Fontaine claps her hands to the pace of the movements she wants from her two leads, following them as they move across the floor. Heaven holds her breath as she’s lifted into the air for two counts before she’s slid down Peter’s body, draping herself across him romantically as he kneels to accommodate her. “Yes, that is exactly it. Now kiss.”

Heaven feels herself wince, squeezing her eyes shut as she feels Peter’s lips press against hers.

“Still doesn’t look good, Madame.” Fallon calls from her seat. 

“No, no it doesn’t, does it? You two, what’s the issue, tu veux m'humilier et me faire me suicider ou quoi?”

“No, Madame,” Heaven huffs, swatting Peter’s hand away from her waist. “We don’t want to humiliate you or make you kill yourself, I don’t understand why we have to do the version with the kiss, there are plenty of variations without it-”

“You understood her?” Peter squints at the girl next to him before huffing, “Fine, whatever, MacMillan intended for there to be passion between Romeo and Juliet, and you curl your lip up everytime I kiss you.”

“I don’t like doing it.” Heaven shrugs. “I’m a professional dancer, not a porn star, and I’m playing a 15 year old girl, I don’t know why any sane, adult audience would want to watch me lay on top and kiss a grown man and then kill myself to be with him-”

“We open tonight. We are doing the ballet as we rehearsed, you two will kiss and you will tolerate it. Practice if you must, pretend he’s someone else, take a shot before you do it, I don’t care.”

“Madame, we’re 19.”

“Oh please.” The older woman storms off, her assistant behind her and the two dancers are left side by side. 

“So…should we practice?”

“Absolutely fucking not, thank you very much.” Heaven pushes past Peter, snatching her dance bag from the floor. “You’re gonna practice until your knees bleed for the next hour and then you’re gonna soak in the athletic building so you’re actually ready for tonight and I’m gonna go…I don’t know, pray.” 

As Heaven storms away, dramatically slamming the theater door behind her, she can recognize she was in a bitchy mood. She felt like she had a lot of shit to be annoyed about and was frankly pissed to feel her world collapsing around her on the first night of her first college role in which she’s the fucking prima. 

First, she once again demonstrated to herself that she has absolutely no fucking self control when it comes to Art Donaldson, a truth that she’s learned about herself that really agitates her. She discovered this as she struggled into the routine of only responding to the blond every couple of days and found herself sitting up in the privacy of her own dorm, reading and rereading every message she sent, the bright light of her phone shining brightly on her shame.

Second, she still hadn’t heard from her boyfriend (ex?), Patrick. She’d watched a couple of his matches while she was on the treadmill at the gym and as he does, he wins the first two rounds only to lose in the third. He found time to get lazy in his tennis playing but failed to pick up his goddamn phone and call either of his girlfriends.

Which leads to the third thing haunting her. Tashi is fucking irritable as shit. Apparently, surgery does not agree with her, because Tashi had been crabby for the last few days. It started with the day of Art’s match when she’d sent her perfectly timed message. 'Did he win?' It was like she was taunting her. Like Tashi knew Heaven couldn't stay away. It pisses Heaven off even more that she was right. Then Tashi had moved on to venting about how Patrick was absolutely wasting his talent, how the fact that he’s not winning pisses her off even more now that she can’t play. How she’s going pro as soon as she gets the chance because if this injury told her anything, it was that there was no time to wait. How now that she’s got time on her hands, she’s been thinking more about her plan for her life and Heaven’s.

And lastly, the real kicker, what had Heaven gritting her teeth as she did bar warmups this morning, was that fucking phone call. The one from her mother that she received at 5:00am when she was stretching. The one where her mother said she wouldn’t be able to make it to her first night of her first ballet in college in which she’s the fucking prima. And when she expressed her disappointment, Beatrice responded ‘It’s just a school ballet, I’ll come to your first professional one.’ 

So, yep, she was in a shitty fucking mood. 

But she wouldn’t let all of that stop her debut as an adult dancer. She was going to be a pro, she was going to do it her way, even if the 5 seats she had reserved in the front row were empty. 

So, she sits at the vanity backstage, putting her hair into Juliet’s first hairstyle. She listens to music that reminds her of when she was 15 to get into the right headspace as she puts blush on her cheeks. She offers Peter a soft smile when she sees him in his costume and forces herself to try to look at him the right way. Because the things that are pissing her off don’t matter right now. Right now, all there is is Juliet.

It doesn’t matter if Heaven’s smile is fake as the lights shine down on her when she first prances her way onto the stage. Juliet’s smile is real. It’s meaningless if Heaven’s tears are real when she squints and sees that her mother’s seat is indeed empty, her stepfather attempting to send her a thumbs up to distract from the woman’s absence. And so what, if Heaven can’t go to her happy place as she solos because she sees both Patrick and Tashi’s seats are empty as well. As long as she can still breezily get through her motions, as long as it looks beautiful for the crowd, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t fucking matter.

And it definitely doesn’t matter, that as she came out of her fake balcony in her sleep gown to blow everyone’s minds with the most loving, fucking passionate pas de deux they’d ever seen, she accidentally caught eyes with Art in the audience, staring up at her intensely. 

So she doesn’t have to feel guilty that when she kissed Peter, she envisioned him with curly blond hair and heterochromatic eyes. Or the fact that Madame Fontaine told her when she stepped off stage to change into her next costume that it was the most romantic, realistic kiss she’d ever seen.

Does Art know he's stupid? Absolutely. He's never dared call himself intelligent. He didn't need the little voice that sounds like Patrick calling him pussywhipped. He knows. But, he still found himself on the highway, traveling at a breakneck speed, eyeing the bouquet of flowers that he has placed in the seat.

He'd known Heaven was serious about this whole friend thing. She's so good, and kind. And she cares so much about Tashi and Patrick. But Art knows he can treat her better. He's sure of it. Despite what he knows to be true, Art refuses to pressure her...anymore. He'd just rely on the fact that if they were supposed to be together like he believed they should be, they would be. Eventually. Soon. Hopefully.

So he came fully ready to play the dutiful friend. He was gonna stand politely by as Heaven leapt into Patrick's arms after the show. Art was gonna smile politely as she and Tashi shared kisses and exchanged giggles as they talked about inside jokes that they only understood. But then he got there. He'd been directed to the front where the two premier dancers families were arranged to sit and found three empty seats separating him from a man with peppered hair and smart looking glasses who had his own bouquet of flowers across his lap and a Chanel gift bag next to his feet. As he inches into his seat the man looks at him with a smile.

"You must be Patrick. I'm Heaven's stepfather, Luca Whitlock, I'm sorry I missed you at her birthday." The older man holds his hand out to Art with a kind smile. "Nice to meet you."

Art offers him his own awkward grin, accepting the tight squeeze of the man's hand. "Uh, no, I'm Heaven's friend, Art. It's really nice to meet you Mr. Whitlock."

"You as well." The man lifts his wrist to check his watch. "Show is meant to start in a few minutes, hopefully he will be here shortly. Stellina won't like for her boyfriend to be late.

Art shifts uncomfortably again, checking his phone. Patrick had reached out to him a couple days after Tashi's injuries. Mostly to make insults thinly veiled as jokes, clearly still pissed that he yelled at him. Art responded with short, one worded messages.

It's the least they'd ever spoken since they'd met.

The guilt he feels for his part in this fight they were having is very real. But it was currently heavily outweighed by his annoyance at the fact that his friend was seemingly punishing Heaven by not showing up for her big night. He knew Patrick didn't deserve her, and he was only proving his point.

"Is Tashi with Mrs. Whitlock or..."

"Oh, my, my wife couldn't make it. And Tashi is still...healing. Her mother called right before I was supposed to pick her up."

Oh. "Oh."

As much as he's glad he could be here for Heaven, he knows that Tashi and her mother being there would mean more. His heart aches for her as he settles back into his seat and the lights dim. The pain he feels for her only intensifies when he sees her step out onto the stage. She's beautiful. The perfect Juliet. If anyone would make a man fall in love within a few glances, ready to die at the thought of not being with her, Heaven would be it.

Her eyes are sad as she eyes the empty seats, using them as a tragic point of focus as she completes her expert turns. Behind him he could hear people whispering about how gorgeous the girl playing Juliet was, how talented she is. All Art can think is that they have no idea. They don't know how she's managing to be so elegant, so beautiful, so perfect, even as she's in the type of pain she's in.

Art would do anything to bring the light back into her eyes so they would shine the way the rest of her was.

He loves her.

He knows it. He feels it as her eyes finally make their way to his seat and her smile is a little more real. A little bit of light slips back into her eyes. She dances even more beautifully, more genuinely than before. And his mind is filled with the same thought.

Yes baby, that's right. Eyes on me. I'll make it better. I'll make you happy.

And he means it. Friends or not. Lovers or not.

It's on Heaven's first night of her first ballet in college where she's the fucking prima ballerina that Art makes a vow to himself.

He was gonna dedicate himself to Heaven Whitlock's happiness. No matter what that meant.

3 Years Later (California)(Age: 22):

Tashi shakes her head to herself as she watches Art pace in the kitchen. She brings her coffee to her lips, blowing at the smoke slowly as she observes him from the couch, taking a small sip before setting the mug loudly on the glass coffee table. She rolls her eyes when he doesn’t stop his steadily paced steps across the floor.  “You good?”

The blond finally pauses to look at her, jaw clenching and unclenching before he opens his mouth to speak. “This is just different, you know?”

“How? It’s still tennis.” 

“It’s pros, Tashi, I’m just nervous.” Art says, running his hand through his blond curls. “These guys are good.”

“You’re fucking good.” She asserts, crossing her arms. “Look, I can’t make you believe in yourself. If you can’t do this, please, let me know now, because I need to know if you’re not going to make this happen. We have a deal.” 

Art sighs, planting his hands down on the counter, staring down at the scattered marble with a frown as he tries to get out of his head. Suddenly, he feels a hand slide across his back and an envelope lands on the counter between his hands, into his line of sight.

“Something for you to consider while you decide if you’re gonna fuckin’ play like I know you can.”

With that, Tashi storms out, heels clicking on the hotel room floor and the door beeping as it slams shut behind her. Art stares down at the envelope, reading and rereading the name of the sender.His heart both clenches and races as he thinks about what the 4 little words on the small, insignificant piece of paper could mean for him. How those 4 words and whatever they’re hiding behind them will ruin his life. 

The Paris Opera Ballet

[officerjennie]

Title: As the Clouds Whisp Overhead

Summary: Jaskier gets off on Geralt's soft thighs and tummy. Literally. Geralt relaxes back and lets him, enjoying the show. Weight gain spoken of positively. Pairing: Geraskier. WC: 3.5K+

CW: smut, brief mention of weight loss due to difficult times (past)

It had been a rather easy spring, all things considered.

Geralt lazed in the field, not really watching the clouds that drifted overhead, his eyes closed and breaths deepening into an almost meditative state. The smell of wine and cheese was almost drowned out by the wildflowers about them but it was still there, as was the scent of apples, salt, the road, and the lingering oils that Jaskier had insisted on wearing ever since he’d discovered Geralt’s nose was sensitive to the others that he used to reek of.

Said bard was currently shuffling their lunch about, putting most of it away for later, humming one of his newest tunes as he folded back up the blanket he’d apparently bought for just this occasion. Though they’d eaten plenty of meals without it or the basket he’d purchased at the market as well, Jaskier had insisted that a picnic was a special affair and deserved the right accessories to make it just right.

Geralt had just let him do as he wished, not worried about his friend’s coin purse - and not worried about his own, for once. Usually the end of winter spelled a time of heavy work for him but he’d lucked out on a couple of easy and well paying jobs right off the bat - so he thought a bit of down time wouldn’t be the end of the world for them.

The song on Jaskier’s lips was one he hadn’t quite finished yet. Geralt had already heard several different renditions of the first verse alone, lyrics tweaked here and there, the exact lilt of his voice changing back and forth as he tried to settle on what he believed would sound the best. And despite his occasional grumbling over the repetition it was a rather relaxing tune, one he didn’t mind listening to.

Beyond that, there was a sort of...intimacy that came with being trusted with Jaskier’s unfinished works. The knowledge that Jaskier wasn’t always his best around him, was able to fuck around with a song and riddle the air with curses of “bollocks” and “cock” while he tried and failed and tried again to make it just right. That Geralt could see him like this and not the perfected performance that he was to the rest of the world, the mask that was firmly in place right up until the moment he didn’t want it to be.

And that moment just so happened to frequently involve witchers, whether directly or indirectly. How many times had he gone feral on someone for just saying the wrong thing about one of Geralt’s colleagues? Just early that spring he’d jumped someone for spitting on the ground over Lambert’s name, and Jaskier hadn’t even met him yet.

Something like pride welled up in his chest at the thought, though it was a quiet thing. Jaskier should be more careful, he shouldn’t be fighting their fights - but it meant the world to him all the same that he wanted to. Especially for his brothers.

“You know, I’ve never been one for cheese and crackers as anything more than a snack, but that was simply delightful.” Jaskier’s voice came closer as he talked, and the flowers and grass were disturbed next to him as the bard flopped over at his side, quickly snuggling in when Geralt moved his arm to make room for him. “We’ll have to go back and ask again what the name of that cheese was. Never have I ever given so much thought to pairing and wines and all that stuff - my youngest sister was always more interested in that sort of thing, and really if I heard her say one more time that my palette wasn’t refined enough I might have had to hide frogs in her bed again.”

Jaskier settled in nicely at his side, slotting in like they were made for each other, fit perfectly together. He chattered away and Geralt mostly tuned him out, something Jaskier loved to fake hurt over though they both knew it was just that: fake. Over the years Geralt had perfected hearing what he needed to hear and simply listened to the tune of Jaskier’s voice, the song of his highs and lows, his sighs and breaths and every heartbeat becoming the song that was his bard.

Meditation came easier around Jaskier than it did anyone else. Even around his own family it was a struggle. Lambert was a little shit at the best of times and Eskel simply existed larger than he wanted to, and Geralt was always tuned into his brothers, paying attention to them because he knew just how limited theri time was together. But with Jaskier, he could rest, relax, simply let himself be like he’d never experienced with anyone else.

His arm rested at Jaskier’s back, hand loose on his side, barely hanging on and feeling his bard breath in and out as he spoke. Jaskier’s fingers tapped a rhythm where they were rested on his chest, though eventually they moved, sliding down to rest against his stomach and making Geralt hmm at the pleasant warmth they brought.

They’d stripped earlier to bathe in the nearby river and had mostly dressed, though Jaskier had forwent his doublet as Geralt had his armor. It was nice, being out in the wild, away from the faux sense of safety that inn rooms allowed them and yet still able to be this content without his armor on. Just their loose clothing, not enough to be considered decent in any sort of societal setting, simply existing and being and just…

Geralt was content, and he didn’t consider that a bad thing. Not in the slightest.

A breeze rustled the field about them, loose silver hair tickling his face though Geralt didn’t have the bother in him to brush it out of the way or tuck it behind his ear. The air smelled nice for once, no clogging dust on the wind, no rotting anything nearby nor farms to make his nose want to clog itself. Since the summer was still a ways off the sun wasn’t too harsh on his skin, his chemise enough to keep any possible chill away though it was warm enough in this part of the country, everything pleasant and not too much.

There was also a lovely set of fingers that had wormed their way under his chemise. Jaskier hadn’t bothered to push it up, had just scooted his hand underneath, and with very gentle circles had begun to rub patterns into the soft flesh there. It was enough to make Geralt melt beneath him, a soft hmm on his lips accompanied by a sigh as he felt his every muscle relax at the touch. The winter had been extra good to him, Eskel having returned with more coin than expected from his path which had meant more meat for their stews, and the lot of them had eaten extra well.

Jaskier had never shied away from letting him know exactly how much he appreciated it when he ate well. There had been a few times on their own path that food had been scarce, and despite witchers having an accelerated metabolism Geralt had always done his best to see after his bard first and foremost - so when times were tough his body showed it, and Jaskier had played his fingers raw when he saw the worst of it just to make sure the both of them could eat their fill.

But there had been no such worries or struggles yet this year, what with the good winter and the well paying contracts that had followed. Geralt’s stomach was full and soft, protecting the muscles and other important organs underneath, and the rest of him was showing the spoiling as well. His thighs had grown softer, somewhat straining against the material of his pants but it wasn’t quite uncomfortable yet - he knew well enough to keep his clothes somewhat baggy, to make room for the waxing and waning that came with the path. His chest, too, had grown softer, encouraging Jaskier to nuzzle into it at any given opportunity.

Those calloused fingers found some of the scars that ran across his belly, caressing them gently. Some stretch marks veined their way across his skin as well, hidden at the moment by his chemise but Jaskier felt his way across them all the same, giving off a gentle sigh as he snuggled in closer and traced his love wherever he could reach.

Geralt could not have thought of a more peaceful way to spend the afternoon. The clouds blurred as his eyes slid closed at the tender affection, his breaths deepening. Deep breaths in through his nose, smelling the wildflowers. A rabbit was nearby, chomping as quietly as it could on some grass, its hops barely whispers as it braved further away from its burrow. Geralt could hear the gentle chuffing of its babies hidden away, the call of a hawk overhead that sent the rabbit scurrying. The scent of budding trees, of a little mouse that had found some seeds to munch. The scent of his bard, his oils and shampoo and the hint of river on the both of them, and the growing scent of-

A snort brought them both a bit out of the peace, and Geralt cracked his eyes just enough to smirk down at the startled confusion growing on his bard’s face.

“Really?”

Those pretty pink lips pouted up at him as if Jaskier wasn’t fully aware of what was growing in his pants. Geralt made a show of raising one of his eyebrows, raking his gaze down, down his bard, straight to stare at his crotch just long enough to get his point across before flicking his eyes right back up.

It took a few seconds for his bard to catch up, Geralt watching the thoughts clear as day on Jaskier’s face, until red spread pretty across his cheeks and darkened the speckle of freckles there. Jaskier sputtered a bit and Geralt had to bite back a wider grin, starts to words that had no finish dropping between them before Jaskier cut himself off with a whine, ducking in to nuzzle into his chest and push the rest of his body closer.

“That’s not fair, Geralt - what, can you, I don’t know, smell it or something?”

Geralt didn’t respond to that, just reached up to tug a stray curl back behind Jaskier’s ear. His bard peeked up at him with another adorable pout jutting out his lower lip, his nose scrunched up as he waited for his ‘ridiculous suggestion’ to be shot down.

But it wasn’t shot down. And Jaskier frowned, and then he squeaked, climbing on top of Geralt to straddle him and poke a very firm finger straight into the chest he’d just been nuzzling.

“You and your- your entirely unfair witcher ways! Are you telling me you could tell all this time? Every time?” Geralt didn’t stop his grin this time and the indignation just grew, hand gestures growing wider. “That is- Geralt, how am I suppose to walk through life knowing you can smell my erection? How am I ever supposed to get up of a morning knowing my every waking naughty thought will be given away? Which yes is entirely too often but you’re entirely not fair, have you looked in a mirror in the past decade? Cruelty, unfair, entirely too sexy for your own good, for anyone’s own good-”

Jaskier went on like that, ranting like only he could, while Geralt eventually tuned his words out just to listen to the lilt of his voice. And the bard made a rather pretty picture himself, straddling him like that. His chemise was loose, showing off curls of dark hair that Geralt could run his fingers through for an eternity and never be bored of it. Broad tanned shoulders, a soft stomach barely hidden underneath his clothes, his pants a wonderful shade of green that fit in with the waking world around them.

A very pretty picture, but a noisy one at the moment. Geralt sighed but Jaskier went on, wildly flourishing his hands as if it was the end of the world that Geralt could smell his arousal. An arousal that had notably not died down, still pressing against the fabric of his pants, catching Geralt’s eyes and making him tilt his head in that way that Jaskier insisted was ‘adorable’ - though Geralt didn’t think he was capable of such a thing.

His thigh twitched with a rather mischievous thought, and as Geralt’s gaze traveled back up to Jaskier’s face, cheeks still stained pink from his rather unnecessary embarrassment, he thought there perhaps that voice would do better singing for him than ranting about his dramatics.

He’d been called an asshole before, and Geralt had never disagreed with the label. But he was lucky enough that Jaskier for the most part never minded - and he greatly doubted Jaskier would mind his next movement.

As Jaskier waved one of his delicate looking wrists in the air, dandelion seeds drifting on the wind about them, Geralt shifted beneath him until he had room to lift up one of his thighs. Before Jaskier could catch his movement it pressed up into him, cutting his bard off with a gasp, his eyes fluttering as Geralt’s smile showed teeth.

“That’s-” Jaskier pressed right down onto his thigh, his hands coming down to support him, and he didn’t waste any time in making it more enjoyable for himself. Shifting down, one hand placed on Geralt’s chest to support him, Jaskier straddled his thigh and slowly ground down onto it. A pretty moan escaped his lips and his tongue darted out as if to catch it.

It was a lovely show, watching as Jaskier pressed down onto him, sought out his own pleasure by rubbing against his thick thigh. Geralt pillowed his head on his arms and just watched, not moving his leg, letting Jaskier set his own pace and feeling pride bubble up in his chest at how pretty he sung for him. On a particularly rough grind Jaskier whimpered and rutted against him faster, making Geralt’s own cock twitch - but he wasn’t really in the mood for pleasure, so he ignored it in favor of the show.

Though he made for a beautiful picture, back lit by the sun and clouds, a pretty blue above that couldn’t quite beat the beautiful blue of his eyes, Jaskier wasn’t purposely looking good for a show. He didn’t touch his own skin like he did when he rode Geralt, didn’t skim his hands down his chest and stomach to show it off. Didn’t bite his lip or run and tangle his fingers into his curls. The emotions that crossed his face were not stressed or controlled, his noises slipped out without thought, his body moving without any purpose beyond pleasuring himself - and it made it a moment Geralt wanted to sear into his memory forever. That Jaskier could let go like this for him. That he trusted that Geralt didn’t mind, trusted that Geralt did not judge him for his desires. How human Jaskier allowed himself to be, imperfect and all the more beautiful for it.

“Fuck,” Jaskier cursed on an exhale, his movements already shaking, his cock dripping enough precum that it soaked into the front of his pants. Geralt could almost feel it wetting his own. “Geralt I- fuck you’re gorgeous, so gorgeous, I want to-” his hips stuttered, breath catching on a moan, brown curls caught on the wind and dancing. “Can- can I get off on your stomach? Gods it’d be so soft, feel so good, I- fuck.”

That was something he’d never requested before. Geralt quirked an eyebrow, belying another twitch of his own cock, but he grunted out “If you must.” And he had to bite back a chuckle at how quickly Jaskier’s fingers went for the ties of his pants.

Jaskier’s cock was leaking profusely though that wasn’t anything he didn’t already know. It looked like it was aching from it, hard and red and angry when he fished it out of his pants and smalls, and Jaskier whined as he couldn’t help but stroke himself a few times. His hips bucked with it, a greedy and wanting noise slipping from between his wet lips - but then he was slipping down Geralt’s leg to straddle his hips, and his cock was pushed against the soft skin of his stomach.

It didn’t slide against him very easily. The precum leaking from the tip helped, but Jaskier didn’t seem to care, holding onto his cock and gently rubbing it against him, jaw wide and loose like it was the single most pleasurable act Jaskier had ever experienced. Geralt cocked his head and tore his gaze away from Jaskier to watch his cock rub circles on him, precum dribbling faster and catching in the hair that curled white all over his abdomen.

Honestly, Geralt didn’t quite understand it. Wasn’t entirely sure what had Jaskier’s breath coming so fast, his heart beating so quick at rubbing against his soft stomach. But he didn’t really care. Jaskier’s hips jerked and he fought to keep himself reigned in, to keep his movements steady and slow, and Geralt just watched him and let him. Let him take this pleasure, smelling the arousal coming off of him in waves, listening to the rhythm of his breaths and body and heart. And Geralt memorized every little detail, from the flutter of his long eyelashes to the way his fingers dug into Geralt’s side, nails just at the edge of biting him.

Jaskier whimpered, long and shaking, when he came. It was desperate, his face scrunching up, eyes shut tight as if he was grasping onto the pleasure with all of his might. Geralt reached out to take hold of one of his hands, letting Jaskier clench his fingers as hard as he needed, bringing them up to brush his lips against the knuckles as Jaskier spilled all over his stomach.

His bard almost collapsed onto him, but Geralt moved him before that could happen, bringing him down with a shush at his further whimpers and letting him rest once more in the crook of his arm. And Jaskier came down slow, heartbeat eventually matching the rhythm of his deepening breaths, eyes still scrunched up tight as if he didn’t want to let go of what he’d been feeling.

When Geralt ran his fingers through his curls, they were damp with sweat. He hummed, not minding, just holding him close as he melted against him.

Eventually, Jaskier stretched, letting his arm flop against Geralt’s chest and legs tangle with his once more. He almost made an effort to open his eyes. Almost. Instead he frowned lightly, nuzzling into Geralt and as he moved impossibly closer.

“Want me to return the favor, love?” His words were light things that could have been carried off by the wind if Geralt’s hearing had been even slightly worse.

In truth, Geralt was turned on. How could he not be when Jaskier had ridden his thigh and stomach so beautifully? But he thought it over for a minute, the cool breeze tickling his face with a few stray white hairs, the scent of wildflowers coming back to him as the one of arousal dissipated.

“No,” he said finally, pulling Jaskier closer to kiss the top of his head. Despite the interest his body had shown he found he wasn’t in the mood himself, content enough to let Jaskier have his pleasure and leave it at that.

Jaskier just hummed, not questioning him further, and a small smile tugged at Geralt’s lips knowing there would be no hurt feelings over it. His bard’s fingers eventually went back to lazily tracing patterns into his skin, though he made a bit of a yucky face when they found the sticky mess he’d left of Geralt’s stomach hairs. Still they were both far too content to clean up just yet, not even wasting the energy to tuck Jaskier’s softening cock back away in his pants as they laid there, relaxed, enjoying the non-harsh sun and the clouds that lazed across the sky overhead.

“Coin for your thoughts?” Jaskier whispered into his chest after a time, and Geralt grunted, not even opening his eyes to look down as he responded.

“A bigger food budget.”

A moment later, and Jaskier’s laugh filled the field around them, sharp and uncontained, a laugh that was so far away from the performance he played that it drew a chuckle out of Geralt as well. That they could be themselves around each other, that they could be so carefree and human, was the most joyous thing Geralt had ever found in his long, long life - and that they’d discovered a new way to have fun was exciting, and Geralt was certainly going to take advantage of this new discovery. How could he not, when his reward was a well-pleased bard melting in his arms.

[spideymarvelws]

The Movie Night

Peter Parker x Fem!Stark!Reader

Main Masterlist

Part Two

Summary : You and peter have a fun time in the compound 

Warnings : SMUT! (sir kink, dom!peter, sub!reader, oral (fem and male rec), dirty talk, pussy slapping, face slapping, degrading)

A/n : Just a little something I found in my drafts thought i would finish it, maybe get back some confidence in writing (this is also a result of me on my period so peter is a lot more aggressive that it should be but it iz what it iz)

Word Count : 1.7k

...

“Peter, fuck,”

“Quiet babygirl, don’t want anyone hearing you now do ya?” Peter grunted in your ear, quickening the pace of his digits deep in your cunt.

Using his other hand, peter wrapped his fingers around your throat, bringing your face next to his, his cheek pressed against yours. Your hips jut out a little at the action, grinding down on the bulge evident in his jeans, “or is that what you want princess?”

You closed your eyes and shook your head, your legs shaking slightly at the upcoming orgasm coming your way.

“Peter i-” you moaned, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came all over your boyfriends fingers. Your mouth was wide open to let out a strangled moan but it was quickly interrupted by peter’s lips on yours. Your body sagged on to his, your mouth moving lazily as he slowed down his fingers and pulled them out of your now dripping pussy, soaking your white cotton panties.

“Fuck babygirl,” he moaned, lifting you up by your waist and lying you down on the couch, his knees on either side of your thighs, his hands still wrapped around your hips.

“Peter we shouldn’t-” you started, but quickly lost the rest of your words as he took off his shirt, throwing it to the side.

“Shouldn’t what?” He replied cockily, bending back down over your body, latching his mouth to your collar bone, “Shouldn’t fuck on your father’s couch?”

“Yes that-” you gulped as he unhooked your bra, “That’s exactly what i mean,”

“Well last time i checked,” peter smirked at the whine you let out as he played with your breasts, “He’s not here right now,” He continued down your body, “Neither is anyone else,” he tugged at the waistband of your panties, “Which means we have this place all to ourselves,”

You lifted your waist, biting your lips as he slowly dragged it down your legs, leaving you open and bare for him.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, as he littered your calf with kisses, moving up to your inner thighs. But as his face hovered over your heated core, he looked up at you, staring intently into your eyes, “Just say the word and ill stop okay babygirl?”

You nodded, too scared that if your opened your mouth you wouldn’t be able to close it after that. You were hesitant at first, the innocent movie night you and peter had planned at the compound  was not meant to go in such a sexual direction. But it had been two weeks since you’ve seen each other and with the combination of collage and work with the avengers, it a was a stressful two weeks for the both of your to say the least.

You were desperate, and as much  as you didn’t wast to admit it, the thought of Peter fucking you in such a open area excited you, and he could tell as well by how wet your pussy had gotten over the past few minutes.

A harsh slap to your pussy awoke you from your thought, “Words pretty girl,” Peter said, starting to wrap his arms around your thigh.

“Yes Peter,” you whimpered, wanting him to make contact with your aching heat.

“Peter?” He tilted his head to the side mockingly, “Don’t think that’s my name right now babygirl,”

“yes- yes sir,” you squeaked, throwing your head back as he made a bold lick up your clit.

“Good girl,” he groaned, his eyes growing darker as he dived into your pussy, eating it out like a starved man.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You groaned, running your hands threw is hair, tugging at his roots harshly. He chuckled at your movements, sending vibrations up your body making you shiver.

“Greedy,” he mumbled, pulling you closer but your thighs, “my greedy girl,”

You giggled at his words, bitting your lip as you watched his head move from side to side, up and down, ravishing every inch of your pussy. You chest raised with deep breaths as your high approached.

“Peter,” you moaned, but his head raised up slapping your cunt once more.

“We went through this y/n,” he growled, using his thumb to rub your clit, “I’m starting to think you like that a little to much you fucking slut,”

“Fuck- I’m sorry sir, I’m sorry,” you whimpered, your hands grabbing at the cushion beneath you, “I’m gonna cum, fuck, i’m gonna cum,”

“Cum for me then,” he muttered, moving his thumb faster, “You’ll get your punishment later,”

The combination of peter’s dirty words and his tongue working wonders against your lips your organism was intense, leaving your body shaking with pleasure.

He trailed his lips up your body, his hands on either side of your head before locking your lips together. You both lazily made out, peter nipped at your bottom lip, pulling it lightly before diving in against.

“Are you alright?” He cooed, resting his hand on your cheek swiping his thumb against the skin.

“Yeah,” you rasped, trailing your hands down his pecs, tracing his abs before gently palming his hard on threw his boxer, smiling as he his head fell on your shoulder, “Are you alright, sir?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he murmured against your skin, letting out a moan when your thumb moved against the tip, “fucking tease,”

“Mhh, you love it,” you hummed, retracting your hand and wrapping your arms around his shoulders, “Tell me what to do sir, tell me how to make you feel good,”

“Oh baby girl,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours, “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you wont be able to walk tomorrow,”

“I’m counting on it,” you whispered back, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

As you both locked lips once more, the only thing flashing through peters mind was his cock in your mouth. You, on your knees, like an obedient little slut, tears streaming from your eyes with spit dripping from your mouth. Your pretty lips wrapped around his shaft, milking it for its worth, deep down your throat.

But before he could make his vision a reality, he heard foot steps making its way toward the living room. As he opened his mouth to alert you, your fathers voice sounded through the room, following by the opening of the doors.

“Honey?” He called out, making his way over to the couch.

“Shit,” you both whispered, scrambling to find your clothes that you had thrown haphazardly across the giant couch.

Peter knew you both wouldn’t have time to but them on before your father caught both of you. Making sure you grabbed all your clothes, he grabbed your waist pulling you to his chest on top of him. He covered your naked body with a thick blanket, concealing everything but both of your heads.

Your legs ended up straddling his waist, grinding your bare heat against his clothed cock as you moved to get more comfortable. Your head landed against his his shoulder as he pulled your closer by the hips, gripping the skin tightly so that you couldn't move.

“Quit squirming would ya?” He whispered into your ear, letting out a deep breath.

“Well sorry if this position is uncomfortable,” you whispered harshly back, wrapping your arms around his shoulder, settling into his body.

As Peter opened his mouth to respond, Tony popped up behind the couch, leaning against the back cushions. You held your breath as you watched his eyes brows raise, his gaze falling on both of you, to the movie on the screen in front of you then back on to the both of you again.

“Why does it look like the both of your just saw a ghost?” He said, clasping his hands together.

“Scary movie,” Peter responded quickly, clenching his jaw as you moved your hips slightly against his, breathing heavily against his neck.

“Frozen is a scary movie?” He quirked his eyebrow.

“When Anna sacrificed herself,” he said quickly, “Truly heart wrenching scene,”

“It’s the middle of the movie-,”

“This is our second viewing,”

“Why not just move on to the second movie instead of rewatching the first?”

“Why don’t I enter through the front door instead in swinging through the fake window I have installed in my room to enter the compound?”

“Fake window-,”

“Hey dad,” you finally butted in, knowing that if you let peter rambled any further you would both get caught, in more things that one, “It’s been a while since we’ve had a night together, I’ll talk to you in the morning okay?”

Tony sighed, leaning back off the couch, not before shooting peter a confused look, “Okay honey,” he said slowly, walking to the over side of the living room, waiting for the automatic doors to open, “Just, use the condoms i put in your room alright?”

You breath hitched at your fathers words, you squeezed your eye lips together tightly as you heard the elevator doors close, leaving you and peter alone once again.

“Did you really have to mention your window hologram,” you groaned, sitting up and stretching your back.

“Well I’m sorry if you were grinding against my dick the entire time,” he growled, taking you up by the hips and turning you over. He ran his fingers threw your hair, pulling you up against his chest, his other hand wrapping tightly around your throat.

“You know, I was going to go easy on you for your punishment, but now I’m not feeling so fucking generous,” he nipped at your ear, “But now, baby girl, the only person allowed to cum tonight is me,” he chuckled as you whimpered at his words, “I’m gonna fill you up, your mouth, your pussy, maybe even your ass too until all you could think of is my name and my cum dripping out of you,”

“Sir, i-,”

He moved his hand from your throat to slap your face, curling his fingers back around your neck after the harsh hit, “No more talking for you slut, only taking, taking everything like a good little cumwhore,”

You nodded your head quickly, your pussy dripping without even being touched.

“Now, i want you in our room, down on your knees, ready for me by the time i get there okay?” He said lowly, taking his hands off of you and handing you your clothes, “Or else I’m getting out the gag, are we clear,”

You nodded again, hustling to put on your clothed and running to your room, tripping on your way up the stairs.

You were in for a long night.

...

Permanent TagList : @jadegill​ @joyleenl​ @sarcastic-sunset-7​

Peter Parker TagList : @ietss​

[supremeinlilac]

Three’s not a crowd, especially when it’s us (2)

Pairing: Cordelia Goode x Reader x Wilhelmina Venable

Word count: 4415

Warnings: Brief sexual imagery

A/n: total writers block but managed to finish it, longer than I thought it was going to be lmao. anyway don't know if the whole 'surprise' thing is written as well as I would have liked but fuck it :))

Part 1: HERE

You weren’t sure what the effect of your magic would be on Wilhemina; on all of the prior occasions the use of your gift had been an accident, your magic sparking out through your skin at the very briefest of contacts with another person, whether you’d wanted it to or not. Since then, you’d been taught to harness and wield and control your powers, you’d been able to touch people without the spark.

This time however, it had been a choice, a conscious decision to hold her hands within your own and let your magic flow into her. You’d seen the way her eyes had widened, and the way she’d jumped and tried to break contact. You’d persisted, not quite knowing the reason why you finally wanted to share your gift with another person, Ms Venable of all people.

When she’d finally been able to pry her hands away from your grasp, she’d stood and straightened, softness gone from her features as she’d smoothed down her skirt and stalk away, cane echoing harshly as she hit it against the ground. That night you lay awake and unable to sleep; sensitive to the sounds of the house- the creak of a floorboard and the hoot of an owl. You were listening for signs of movement from the master bedroom across the hall.

After your show earlier, Wilhelmina had kept herself to the confines of her shared room with Cordelia; you wondered if she’d told her what had happened or if she, like always, was keeping her worries stoic and to herself. Upon being greeted with silence, you finally allowed yourself to roll over towards the wall and drift into a restless sleep.

At breakfast the following day, the empty glasses had shattered when one of the girls had spilled milk across the table. Cordelia had risen from her seat and looked around at everyone, searching for a guilty face among the widen eyes emerging from under arms which they’d flinched under to escape the flying glass. No one had owned up.

You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from quipping about not crying over spilt milk, but you decided now wasn’t the right time. Especially seen as you seemed to be the only person who saw the deep flush and anxious eyes of Ms Venable across the table, before she managed to harden her face again and tap her cane insistently which sent some of the younger girls scurrying to clear the glass.

When the younger girls had all finished up and left with Zoe to get themselves ready for lessons, and only some of the older girls stayed, milling around with hushed whispers and laughter, you let your gaze fall to the two women, deep in conversation at the foot of the table. Cordelia looked anxious and deep in thought while Wilhemina spoke, her own posture back to one of defensiveness after her brief slip up. You slipped away from the table, glancing back at the pair momentarily feeling a surge of emotion at them simply enjoying each other’s company, faces now relaxed again as they spoke.

***

Having forgotten your spell book for your first lesson of the day, Zoe had sent you to quickly fetch it with a nonchalant wave of her hand. You were just about to go up the staircase to your room when someone tightly grasped at your wrist and pulled you through the nearest door, eliciting a startled yelp from you in surprise.

“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?” Wilhemina seethed through gritted teeth, “what have you done to me?” Her face was hard and angry, but her eyes were wide and scared and darting back and forth between your own, as if searching them for answers that you weren’t even sure you had yourself. You tried to free yourself from her bruising grip but she held fast, shaking it for good measure when you neglected to answer her.

“I- I don’t- I don’t know” you stammered, words leaving your mouth jumbled and scattered as a reaction to her anger and close proximity. She’d never directed her frustrations at you before, she’d never had the need to as you always kept yourself to yourself and were respectful.

“Do you think this is some kind of joke? Turn me back right now.” She ordered, cane hitting against the wood impatiently. You stared dumbly at her, unsure of what exactly she was expecting you to do. At your blank expression she shook your arm again, making you wince and turn away, tears pricking in your eyes and blurring your vision.

“Are you an imbecile, I said turn me back now.”

Collecting yourself slightly, blinking away the tears and pulling your arm free, you forced yourself to stand tall and appear confident in front of the older woman. You turned back to face her, speaking clearly with as much conviction as you could muster: “I can’t, Ms Venable. I’ve never properly used my powers on anyone before, I don’t know how long they’ll last or if-” your words drifted off, a thought bubbling up which made you stop in fear, “or if they won’t fade at all.”

Your words caused her face to twitch, in anger or fear you weren’t sure, but it made you step back slightly. She looked shocked, as if it was an option she hadn’t considered, stepping towards you dangerously as you retreated.

Wilhemina Venable was a woman used to routine. She was used to being in control of everything in her life; she prided yourself on being the most punctual, organised and structured. When things happened that she hadn’t already worked into a plan; that she was not expecting or not wholly prepared for, she would bite back defensively. This was one of those times.

You thought she was going to strike you, instinctively flinching and curling inwards before the sound of the door opening made you both retract. Looking up, you saw Ms Venables knuckles drawn white against the wood of her cane and her steely glare on you unwavering, even as her girlfriends’ head poked round the door behind her.

“What’s going on in here?” Cordelia’s curious voice rang through the room, closing the door behind her as she entered. You had started to edge backwards into your own space where you didn’t feel so claustrophobic. Cordelia glanced quickly back and forth between the both of you before coming to stand by Wilhelmina’s side as she always did in tense situations, acting as a way to ground her girlfriend and offering a comforting hand on her back as a reminder to breathe.

Ms Venable’s eyes had not once left yours since you’d admitted she might be stuck in this new and powerful state that you’d given her. It was as if she was daring you to admit you were joking. Begging you silently with her eyes. They were hard and cold and unwavering next to your wide, intimidated ones, but you could see the flicker of fear that sparked within them.

Slowly Wilhemina turned her attention to Cordelia, expression and eyes immediately softening as she melted into her hold, closing her eyes and leaning her forehead against the Supremes. This was the most vulnerable and exposed you’d ever seen her, and the most anyone had been allowed to see of their relationship. A simple embrace.

Cordelia moved to balance her face in her hands delicately, gently guiding Wilhemina to look at her. She just allowed the supreme to move her head, tired eyes meeting worried ones and an attempt of a smile flickered against her lips like the ghost of a candles fleeting flame in the breeze.

You felt as if you were intruding on a moment that you shouldn’t be witnessing, awkwardly shuffling on the spot and wringing your hands together. You couldn’t bring yourself to tear your eyes away as much as you knew you should from them, keeping them fixated on how soft the pair of them were in each others arms.

Gentle touches and soothing hums.

As quickly as you saw the walls of Wilhemina’s impenetrable façade crumble into dust before you, she was clearing her throat and pawing roughly at dampened eyes with the back of her gloved fist. She pulled away from Cordelia and gave her hand a quick squeeze before letting that go too.

As Cordelia continued to look between the two of you again, eyes narrowed at you in suspicion after her girlfriend’s uncharacteristic outburst of raw emotion, you felt like it was now an appropriate time to talk, stammering out a broken explanation about what had been happening. You almost revealed the truth but Wilhemina was suddenly cracking her cane against wood and interrupting you loudly.

“Y/n, stop your stuttering and blubbering.” She snapped, widening her eyes and lifting her brows, head shaking as if she was silently asking you what the fuck you are doing, and to pull yourself together.

“Y/n had agreed to help me with paperwork when she has free lesson space a couple of days ago, this morning she left me a note saying ‘soz I don’t wanna do it anymore’, and yes she spelt it s. o. z.” Wilhemina explained, acting annoyed at the way you’d written your imaginary note to try to resign from the imaginary job you’d taken on.

“I was just reminding her that she can’t just drop the responsibilities she’s taken on when she feels like it. And trying to get it into her head that that isn’t how we write messages.” It was your turn to raise your eyebrows in question. Clenching your jaw you tried to remain unbothered by the way Mina flashed you a smirk of victory while Cordelia still looked just as confused as before.

“But you don’t like the students helping you, you specifically said they do more harm than good and that they mess up your system,” the supreme stated matter of factly, hand coming to rest on her hip so her elbow jutted out to the side. She looked like she was contemplating saying something to you, turning in your direction before stopping and going back to watch Wilhemina.

“It’s the principle dear, Y/n has to learn. She’ll meet me in my office this evening after her lessons and she won’t be late. I’m sure.” Addressing Cordelia the whole time, not once looking at you while she spoke blatantly about information that you supposed that you were suppose to ‘already know’.

Cordelia looked unconvinced, although she let it go nonetheless, reminding you of the lesson you were missing and sending you scrambling out of the room. Chancing a glance back into the room before you slipped out of the room, you caught Ms Venable’s eye as she watched you leave.

Your lessons dragged slowly, time slowed and you tried to keep your focus on the tasks you’d been given; the spells you had to practise. Spells. Wilhemina. Spells. Wilhemina. Your mind kept wondering to Ms Venable, what she had planned for this evening, and you couldn’t help but picture yourself bent over her desk with the pink stripes of her cane’s touch against your skin.

Shaking your head, you tried to focus on what Zoe was demonstrating, the image seeping into the front of your eyes and refusing to leave. You excused yourself from the lesson, gathering your things and fleeing the room.

You had to find her.

Throwing your spell book onto your bed you flew out of the room again, door slamming behind you. Descending the stairs, you swung yourself around the corner quickly using the edge of the banister to spin.

Running towards her office, you looked behind you to check for anyone in the hallway and ran straight into a body. Papers scattered, raining down around you and you lost your balance over the persons foot, tumbling awkwardly towards the ground.

“Woah there, slow down.” Cordelia exclaimed, surprised, hands flying out to stop your fall, gripping at your body. Realising it was you, and you her, you both quickly let go of the hard grip you had on various parts of the other, apologies spilling from you as the supreme smoothed down her dress at the waist. She couldn’t meet your eyes with hers, looking from the papers that framed you both on the ground, to her wrist and back to the floor.

“What are you doing out of lessons?” Cordelia’s voice rang out, unnecessarily loud in the empty hallway.

“I was just- I, nothing Ms Goode.” You mumbled, glancing subtly at the door of Ms Venables office, gritting your teeth and pursing your lips. You’d been so close. Cordelia cocked her head at you, seemingly amused at your answer, picking one of her brows up as if to challenge it as a barely disguised lie.

“Well you can help me set up for our lesson then.” She left no room for arguments, waving you to follow and then once more so the papers danced back to her waiting hands, perfectly organised once more. You followed her meekly, praying that she wouldn’t bring up that morning in your conversation.

As if sensing your thoughts, Cordelia opened the greenhouse door with her free hand, speaking as you went through with a smile of thanks. “Ms Venable has gone to complete the shopping this week. I assume that’s where you were off to in such a rush. Her office.”

“But-” you started, going to say that it’s always one of the girls that does the shopping, never Wilhemina as she deemed it a waste of her valuable time.

“She insisted” Cordelia interrupted shortly, pausing before smiling as she stacked the papers in a pile on one of the shelves, “you know how she gets.”

You nodded. You knew how stubborn the older woman could be, how it was nearly impossible to sway her path once she had chosen to walk it. You admired her but had to admit it could be somewhat excessive at times.

You fell into comfortable conversation. Despite the confrontation that morning, and the obvious tension, you appreciated how easy being around the supreme was. She never pushed you, always waiting for you to come to her. Even if it meant she suffered with the pain of knowing something was wrong and she couldn’t help. It was perhaps the thing you loved the most about her.

When the lesson began you did your best to stay on task, humming to yourself at one of the benches to keep your mind clear and on the glass in front of you. You could feel the Supremes eyes lingering on you as she made her rounds around the greenhouse, checking on everyone’s work.

The majority of the lesson went undisturbed, no unplanned surprises or accidents. It was calm. Silent bar from the gentle tinkle of the glass wear as everyone worked, murmur of papers turning every so often to break the peace.

Once again letting your mind wander uncontrollably, you let a low groan as the glass tubing you were using slipped from your grip to shatter against the floor of the greenhouse. Frustrated tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, as you crouched and attempted to scoop the shards into trembling hands, vision blurred and droplets falling to ricochet off the stone. You were too nervous to even notice how Cordelia had swept across the floor to help you, to stop you from cutting yourself trying to gather the glass.

Her hand came to rest on the small of your back, pulling you from your thoughts and prompting a rough hand to palm away the tears lest she saw them. Sitting back on your chair you watched how she effortlessly manipulated the glass with her magic, barely even needing to concentrate on such a menial task.

Staring at the wood of your workspace, you barely registered her floating back to her bench or dismissing the class, only standing when Madison pulled at the crook of your arm to jerk you into motion.

“Y/n, can I have a quick word please.” Cordelia called out to you as everyone shuffled out, Madison elbowing you in the ribs with a wink and mouthing ‘shit you’re in trouble’. She looked way too pleased about the prospect of you being in trouble.

You returned to the table that subbed as a desk for the supreme when she taught in the greenhouse, at the corner of the room, hovering behind it and tapping your fingers anxiously against the wood. Cordelia observed you through slightly worried eyes, knowing that you and Wilhemina were both keeping something from her. You’d been distracted all lesson, blank eyes staring out of the dirty windows and you’d occasionally startle yourself out of your thoughts, attention turning momentarily back to the task.

Cordelia, although happy to act as if that morning hadn’t happened, she was less ready to let your absent-mindedness during her lesson go without at least talking to you about it. She was worried. You, alongside Misty, naturally, were one of her best students, so seeing you so blank and dreamy was unwelcomed and unfamiliar.

It was one thing to be distracted in a potions lesson, where accidents were less likely under inexperienced mistakes and mishaps; but what if your mind wondered when in a lesson teaching transmutation. Cordelia had already seen Zoe impaled on the unforgiving spikes of the fence, she would not see another student like that.

“I’d like to think all my girls know that they can come to me with anything, any worries or issues they may have. You do know that you can talk to me, right?” She sounded wounded, as if she was saddened by the fact that you may not feel like you can, or even want to confide in her. The thought of her being upset because of your actions made you twinge with guilt. Not to mention the fact you were keeping something you probably should have revealed when you’d arrived at the school from her.

“Yes of course, I just didn’t sleep too well last night I guess,” you shrug nonchalantly, trying to seem natural in your response. You felt bad lying to her, but it truly wasn’t your place to run your mouth about something that she should really hear from her own girlfriend.

Cordelia looked unconvinced yet again, and she brought her hand up slowly as if to comfort you, before stopping and returning it to finger at the fabric of her flowing pants. You couldn’t meet her eyes, the familiar thawing feeling at your chest whenever you were close to her returning. You felt like you were being suffocated with the weight of her gaze, the smell of her perfume and the rhythmic sigh of her breaths. You had to get out of the greenhouse, being around her made you want to spill the truth.

Slipping away as quickly as you could without looking like you were running from the lingering questions of the Supreme, you shut yourself in your room with a hand on your chest to still your heightened breathing.

***

That evening you slipped out of the living room when the rest of the girls had huddled together to watch a movie, socked feet padding against the floorboards towards Ms Venable’s office. You’d never actually seen the inside of it, up until now counting yourself lucky because you weren’t summoned there unless

Usually, it was just Madison. Sometimes a teenage witch who got a little bit too cocky or mouthy, as they all do sometimes. They’d always come out with raw eyes and a sniffly nose that they’d wipe against their sleeves self-consciously. Madison would just be flushed and embarrassed that she’d been put in her place by the one person who knew just how to deliver blows with the sharp edge of her tongue better than she did.

Her head snapped up when you entered, she looked ready to bark at whoever it was for entering without knocking. Sighing when she realised it was you, she closed the planner that lay open on the desk and folded her hands atop it, as if in an important meeting.

“Y/n” she stated calmly, clearing having used the day to calm herself ready for this unavoidable conversation. Communication wasn’t exactly one of her strengths. She was quick to snap and judge, less so to think about the consequences of her words, or if she even meant them. She wasn’t one for honest and vulnerable conversations. Especially about things she was unsure about.

You felt like a child in trouble, small and anxious under a teachers disappointed stare. You supposed the feeling was justified. You should feel like that.

Shuffling into the seat that faced the desk, you folded your feet under you before remembering where you were and quickly straightening yourself back up. The silence was suffocating as you waited for her to scold you.

“I’m sorry.” Your head jolted to look at her as if you’d been electrified. She was sorry? You’d never heard Wilhemina admit she was in the wrong, never mind saying she was sorry. Catching your open mouth, you willed it to close, clearing your throat uncomfortably and in obvious confusion.

“I shouldn’t have been angry earlier today. I should have let you explain.” Her explanation for her apology had you tripping over your tongue in your haste to blabber out your own apologies. She looked mildly annoyed at your constant insistency to stutter and stumble over your words in her presence.

“No, no, I’m the one who should be sorry. I should never have used my powers on you without your permission.” She held her hand up, effectively silencing you as your eyes focused on your hands that were curled, nails pressing moons into the skin of your knees. Wilhemina waited until you built up the confidence to meet her eyes again before continuing.

“I was just shocked after the events of breakfast. I assume that was me, breaking the glasses?” She concluded, cocking her head in slight amusement. You weren’t sure if she was waiting for you to confirm her suspicions or not. You nodded anyway, deciding it was better to answer if she wasn’t expecting one than to ignore such a request.

You did appreciate that anyone would still be reeling weeks after the initial shock of suddenly becoming a witch and inheriting magical abilities. It could be trying and scary for anyone, but to be normal your whole life and over the space of a single breath you were changed was a lot, even for Wilhemina, such a stoic and confident woman. The knowledge that it may be a permanent change could have been the straw that broke the camel’s back. You hoped that she would be able to see the benefits of such a gift, be able to flourish and overcome this hurdle, embrace it even. Being a witch had certain advantages that a woman like Wilhemina should surely relish in.

She drew her lips tightly when you confirmed it, nodding, and you took her silence as an invitation to carry on with your explanation. She sat, looking more relaxed now that she had been, the twitch of her jaw had ceased and now she just looked interested in what you had to say.

“I figured my powers gave people certain, abilities, when I’d touch them. But they only used to last a few hours, mainly because it happened by accident. I wasn’t sure what would happen when I consciously wanted to give someone magic, you know? That was why I couldn’t show Ms Goode without you. You’re the only non-magical human in the house. I don’t think it would have worked on anyone else. I’m sorry.”

Wilhemina hummed, hand extending to reach her cane from where it was balanced against the desk, bringing it closer so she could thumb against the top of it. She appeared to be thinking deeply about something, and you couldn’t help but be fixated on how her fingers stroked the smooth wood of the cane in her grip.

Almost as if she knew, a momentary smirk graced her lips as she stilled her fingers. Breaking your trance and making you startle in the chair, she hit the base of the cane twice, echoingly loud in the room. Meeting your gaze, she piqued a brow before sitting back in her seat until her back rested against the leather.

“I do have one condition. Because you’re so sorry.”

“Anything Ms Venable.”

“If this could be a-” she paused momentarily, as though weighing up the options in her head, “a permanent change, then you’ll have to teach me. I can’t very well be a senior teacher here at the academy with no knowledge of how to use and control my own abilities. Whenever, wherever, that I don’t care. But you will teach me, and I will learn.”

Whatever you were expecting her to demand of you in compensation for turning her into a witch, it wasn’t that. A smile spread across your face and you had to fight the urge to jump from your seat and into her arms in thanks. Had Cordelia told her that you wanted to pursue magical teaching?

Whatever had made her choose you to teach her over the multiple other witches who were already gifted as teachers, you weren’t sure. Perhaps it was simply because you knew about her newly acquired skills. Shamelessly however, you were practically giddy with the prospect of spending more time alone with the redhead.

“Yes of course!” you explained, forgetting to keep your voice low as to not arouse suspicion, “I’ll teach you spells and Ms Goode can teach you potions!” you were practically bouncing in the chair, excitement bubbling over making you giddy and giggly. You missed how the mention of Ms Goode made Wilhemina’s smile faulter with a flicker of fear.

“Oh I just know you’re going to love spellcraft! I’ll go get her” you were getting slightly carried away in your blind enthusiasm, pushing yourself out of your chair and rushing towards the door.

The pound of her cane unforgivingly against the floor stilled your movements, whipping round to face her where she’d pushed herself to stand, making her appear more dangerous, a looming suffocating presence in the small room that made you twitch under her stare.

“You are not to tell Ms Goode” she scolded, tone severe and warning, “Not yet.” 

PART 3 

taglist : @pearplate @billiedeansbottom @pluied-ete​ @extraordinarilycelestrial​ @toujours-ensanglante​@mssallymckenna @okpaulson  @magnificent-paulsonn @shineestark​ @commanderspeach @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @amethyst-bitch​​ @its-soph-xx​ @germansarechill ,if you want to be added just send me an ask :))                                

[mackeydoodledoo]

I Only Swim Free: Chapter 2

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: You’ve done swimming all your life. You’ve gotten to your dream college on a scholarship for your outstanding freestyle technique back in high school. Relationships never crossed your mind however, that was before you met your swim team captain: Bela Dimitrescu.

Warning: Alcohol/Drinking, Introverted-ness (At Parties), jealousy/slight-heartbreak

A/N: Rather than having this be a one chapter story, I decided to make this thing a whole series!

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

“This Photo assignment is due next class, make sure there is no slacking off,” Your Photo professor announces, “Now, that will be all for today, I can’t wait to see what you students will come up with.”

As you finish up your last class of the day, you grab a quick bite to eat before you headed off to the sports facility for practice.

The Assignment: You are to create a collage of photos taken on your DSLR camera. However, they need to be edited in some way. The theme and the way of editing is entirely up to students. 

You go down the list of options in your head as you get yourself changed into your new swimsuit. You feel a slight tap on your shoulder, making you lose your train of thought.

“Hey y/n,” Bela smiles, “I just want to apologize for not letting you finish yesterday. My boyfriend he’s- the worst at timing. What was it that you wanted to ask me yesterday?”

A date... I want to ask you on a date Bela...

“Oh don’t worry about it,” You lie, “It was nothing important anyway.”

“Okay,” She says, “Hey do you have any plans tomorrow night?” 

“No, don’t think so... Why?” You ask

“My boyfriend’s fraternity house is throwing some huge party and I was wondering if you would like to show up... With me,” Bela explains

“Wouldn’t that be a question for your boyfriend?” You ask out of pure curiosity

“He’s apart if the fraternity silly,” Bela giggles, “I don’t want to be showing up alone. so, how about it?”

She’s going to be the one leaving you alone for her boyfriend... Won’t she?

“Okay,” You answer unconsciously

“Great,” she smiles, “I’ll pick you up around six tomorrow.”

You watch her walk up to the coach and you follow the rest of the girls to begin practice. 

After practice that evening, you only rinsed out your hair in hopes to avoid Bela. However, once you had just gotten out of the shower, you realized you unconsciously did your “post-swim shower routine”. So you didn’t rush out of there.

“You okay y/n?” Bela asks

She was wearing her undergarments that time so you were slightly thankful.

“Yeah-yeah,” You sigh

“Are you sure?” She asks

“Yeah, practice is different from high school,” You say, changing the subject, hoping Bela wouldn’t notice how you felt about yesterday

“Oh- I just remembered,” Bela says, reaching into her bag

You look over and notice that your hoodie is in her hands. You had too many already... 

“Keep it,” You say, “You make it look good better than me anyway.”

“Even if my name isn’t on here?” She asks

“Definitely,” You smile, holding the locker room door open for her, “Besides, doing indoor percussion for almost nine years now gets you to own too many hoodies.”

“Nine years?!” Bela asks

You nod, “Fun fact, after high school swim season for the girls’ team, I’d turn to music and participate in indoor percussion.”

“Do you still do it? Indoor Percussion?” Bela asks

“Yeah,” You say, “I currently have a contract with a top tier world class percussion ensemble for this coming season.”

“That’s awesome y/n,” Bela smiles, “I’ve never been to one of those kinds of shows.”

“Well, I juts might bring you along,” You suggest, “It’s fun to watch.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” She smiles

Her boyfriend yet again pulls up to the both of you. You watch her drive off with him as your heart sinks again. 

Why are you feeling this way when you clearly know she has a boyfriend? Grow up kid...

You walk to your car once more and decide to treat yourself out for something to eat.

Once you got back to your studio apartment, you felt your phone vibrate. When you open it up you see a text message from an unsaved number.

Hey, it’s Bela. This is y/n’s number right?

Hey, yeah. That’s my number.

Despite knowing she has a boyfriend, you enjoy talking to her. Like friends. Right?

The next day you focused on school work however, putting off the photo assignment as you haven’t gotten a clue on what to do. However, you see your phone’s screen light up again and see a message from Bela.

Hey, just a reminder, just dress like you’re going to the club.

Okay, got it.

You stand up from your couch, declaring that was enough homework for the rest of the night, you go through your closet and spot an outfit; red crop tank top/lace bralette combo, ripped skinny jeans, dr. martens and a leather jacket to top it all off. 

Perfect. Wait until Bela sees you.

When you finally put on your leather jacket, you decided to put on some dark red lipstick to give more ‘oomf’ to your look. When you had finished applying it, you hear your phone ring. You look over and see Bela’s icon on the screen. You unlock your phone and hold it up to your ear.

“Hey I’m here,” Bela says from the other end of your phone

“Great, I’ll be down in a second,” You say, hanging up the phone

You exit the bathroom and grab your apartment keys and exit your apartment; locking your door. You almost rush down the stairs when you see Bela’s cark park out front. You weren’t sure how Bela reacted to you when you stepped out of the apartment door however, when you got into the passenger seat, Bela was looking at you.

“Take a damn picture if you’re going to stare,” You flirt

She takes out her phone and snaps a photo. You didn’t think she’d actually do it. But, you weren’t complaining though.

“You-oh wow,” Bela say, breathlessly, “Since-since when do you dress like that?”

“Whenever I decide to look like a hot lesbian,” You say, sitting back into the passenger seat

The both of you didn’t really say much after then as Bela was focused on driving. When the both of you arrived, You get out first, just to open the door for her.

“A lesbian and a gentleman,” Bela flirts

You follow close behind her as you enter the fraternity house Bela talked about the evening before. You didn’t expect it to be packed. By the time you had fully processed a college party, Bela was no longer in front of you. Instead, in the arms of her boyfriend. 

“You look like you could use a drink,” One of the fraternity boys tries to flirt with you

“No thanks,” You brush him off immediately

You begin walking away, hoping to find a spot in the party to just think. 

What did we tell you kid? Now you’re alone... At a college party. You should have just lied kid...

By the time you decided to step outside it was packed too. You turned your heel and began to walk right back into the house. You had decided to avoid the party entirely now that Bela had left you for her boyfriend, yet she showed up with you, took a photo of you and flirts with you, you found a closet. 

You shut the door and take a seat. Luckily you brought your own kind of music to listen to when you want to feel isolated. You weren’t sure how long you sat with your knees up to your face. But you sure as hell wanted to stand up because you could no longer feel your arse. Feeling slightly confident, you decided to go back downstairs where the main party was happening, hoping you could have some time with Bela. You didn’t see any of your swim teammates, so she was the only one you felt that you could talk to. 

Fuck....

You were only halfway down the stairs when you spotted Bela’s hair in the bright light. Lips locked with her boyfriends’.

Aaaaaand we are going back up the stairs.

You had never went back up a set of stairs so fast in your life. However, you didn’t want Bela to see you looking heartbroken. You were easily seeable from the part of the stairs you were standing on. You rushed back into the same closet. Once you leaned against the wall, you realize it wasn’t a wall. It was a ladder. You took the opportunity to limb onto the roof. You were sure it wasn’t allowed but it would be better to be banned rather than watching your now crush making out with her boyfriend. You open the hatch and inhale the fresh, crisp scent of the evening air. Once you found a suitable spot along the rooftop, you scroll through your phone. 

Ahhh, This is the song to listen to when all you want to do is fall apart.... Or stargaze, or both.

“All the Stars” - Kendrick Lamar/SZA

A Classic. 

Although you had a whole playlist just for moments such as this one, All the Stars gave you a mixed vibe when all you want to do is to fall apart and stargaze. You turn up your music, shutting out the rest of the world. You didn’t care, you had your thoughts, your music and the whole night sky to yourself.

Bela’s POV She didn’t realize how much time went by until she looked out the window.

Oh shit it’s getting late. I have to find y/n...

“Hey babe, I’m going to look for y/n,” She says

“I’m sure the kid’s fine,” He says, drunk, “Stay baby. Please. Your boyfriend needs your attention.”

“Your boys can take care of you for now,” She says, standing up

Before she could depart from him, he forcefully grabs her wrist. In a panicked state, she draws her hand back.

“Not. Here.” Bela growls, turning her heel and leaving her boyfriend by his lonesome

She walks into the kitchen, seeing some party-goers playing beer pong.

“Have you guys seen a girl wearing a red crop top, leather jacket?” She asks

They all shake their head ‘no’. Bela rushes into the gaming area. The same response from them as well. Panicking, she checks nearly every area there was in that house. However, when she reached the top of the stairs, she barely heard anyone there. So, she checks each room to see if you were in any of them. To her dismay, no luck. 

“Where did you go y/n?” she sighs, “I shouldn’t have left you alone...”

Genuinely feeling guilty, Bela picks up her phone and speed dials your number.

Y/n’s POV You groan in annoyance when your music suddenly stopped playing. However, when you looked at your phone, you freaked. Bela’s name and icon showed up. Not knowing what to do, you panic and let it go to voicemail. Hoping she would give up, you just go back into your vibe.

“Isn’t she persistent,” You talk to yourself, seeing her name and icon once more

You, again let it go to voicemail.

Bela’s POV Bela was pacing along the second floor, trying to get you to pick up but each time leading to voicemail. She was beginning to get to the point that she thought you had left. However, when she looks over to an open door, a faint light shining down. She walks into the closet and noticed the ladder leading up to the roof. She decides to check the roof as the last place to see if you were there. As soon as she poked her head through the open hatch she gasps as she sees you lying down.

Y/n’s POV You were too focused on the stars in the sky however was now blurred. As your eyes adjusted to the new darkness, you could hear Bela.

“There you are y/n I was looking for you,” She says, “You will not believe what- hey, are you okay?”

Still having your music on loud blast, you turn your head towards the horizon line; where the land meets the sky. You didn’t want her to see you like this, you had nothing to be jealous of... But here you are; jealous of Bela’s own boyfriend.

“Hey, y/n look at me,” Bela says calmly

You began feeling like melted butter as soon as Bela’s fingers gently caressed your jawline and cheek. You let her turn your head to look at her.

“What’s wrong?” She asks

You don’t say anything but you only take out one of your earbuds and hand it to her. You couldn’t find the words to tell her how you were feeling. A new song had popped on.

“Too Afraid” - MARINA

She puts in the earbud just as the song begins. One of her hands wraps around your neck while the other lingers on your cheek. You gently put your forehead against Bela’s as the both of you listen to the song together. Your hands hold onto Bela’s forearms as it hit the chorus line. 

The both of you were up on the roof listening to your music for god knows how long. The both of you were lying down at that point; Your leather jacket wrapped around her, her resting against your shoulder, stargazing with you, still listening to your music together. 

She’s the first one to actually listen to music with you... 

“Hey, Bela,” You finally say, breaking the silence

She perches herself on her elbow, looking down at you, “Yeah?”

“Won’t your boyfriend be suspicious?” You ask, “I’d hate to see something happen to you if he-”

She places her finger against your mouth.

“Forget about him right now,” She says, “What matters more is that I need to make it up to you for leaving you alone.”

“Bela- you don’t need to do that,” You say sitting up to meet her face

“No, I want to,” She says, “That reminds me, have you eaten at all?”

You both hear your stomach gurgling from the lack of nutrient consumption.

“Guess that answers your question,” You chuckle

“I know a great 24/7 diner, wanna go?” She asks

“I’d like that Bela,” You smile

You finally had the courage to walk back into the fraternity house. Bela’s boyfriend was nowhere in sight. However, Bela doesn’t seem phased at the fact as she drags your arse out of the party and back to her car. 

When the two of you arrive there, you sit in a booth near the window.

“Now would you want to tell me why you were basically gone almost all of the party?” Bela asks

“I don’t know,” You lie, but it was also the truth, “I’m not very much a party person... Especially with a bunch of strangers.”

“Then why didn’t you say so? We could have done something else,” Bela says

“I didn’t want you to have to leave your mans just to make time with me,” You sigh, sipping on your milkshake, “Besides, you looked like you are the life of the party. I.. I also can’t say no to you.”

You didn’t realize how upset you sounded when you told her how you ‘didn’t want to interrupt her time with her boyfriend just to make time for you’ bit.

“What’s your ideal ‘party’?” She asks out of the blue

“Oh? well, just having three to four friends over, we just drink, eat junk food, play super smash brothers, watch a movie watch youtubers or all three. Not in that particular order though,” You ramble on, “That’s pretty much it. Nothing special.”

“When was the last time you’ve had one of those?” She asks

“Too long,” You answer, “Why?” Are you going to do something like that one of these days?”

“Something like that yeah,” She says

After the two of you had diner food she drops you off back at your apartment.

“Thanks Bela,” You say, opening the car door

Before you could step out of the car, you could feel her hand coil around your wrist and you felt her other hand turn your face towards hers and your lips meet each other halfway. She pulls away for you to process the fact, however, you lean forward even further and your lips meet hers once more. 

“Goodnight Bela,” You whisper when you pull your lips away

“Goodnight y/n,” She replies

You finally step out of her car. You don’t fully process what happened until you got into your apartment. 

You just fucking kissed Bela Dimitrescu...

Chapter 3

[inadaydream99]

hiii can i request a mark lee x female reader drabble? something where she tells mark she thinks he’s embarrassed of her because he doesn’t show any pda infront of the other members so to prove her wrong he like kisses her and stuff the next time she visits him during practice?? thank you

A/N - hey, thanks for requesting! Sorry this has taken so long to write, I’ve been so busy! I hope you enjoy 😊 also, I hope you don’t mind, but I kinda deviated a little from the plot unintentionally...

Oblivious

It had been a long and tiring day for everyone, yourself included, and all you wanted was to be able to go home and cuddle up in bed with your boyfriend.

You exhale a sigh under your breath as the guys begin practicing for what seems like the millionth time that day. The same song echoing throughout the room once again. It’s a wonder they still seem to have so much energy. Though you’ve been told before that it’s fueled by determination.

“I’m exhausted.” Mark exasperatedly sighs as he takes a seat beside you on the floor. You must have zoned out for a lot longer than you thought because you hadn’t even noticed the music stop.

“Me too. But it’ll be worth it when we have to show what we’ve come up with.” Doyoung breathlessly responds before taking a large gulp of water.

They had been working tirelessly for the last two weeks on this new routine for their next comeback. Never had you seen all the guys so stressed in your life and it’s all because they were given the opportunity to choreograph a dance and didn’t want to mess it up. You were proud of their hard work, supporting them in every way you could. It’s the least you could do.

Your eyes cast around the room, everyone taking a moment to catch their breath back before finding the last piece of strength within them to pack away their things and head home. Faint amusement creeps across your face when you notice Jungwoo laying on the floor in the centre of the room. I wonder how long it’ll take before someone jumps on top of him?

... and a second later Haechan does exactly that.

“You good?” You turn your head to face Mark after chuckling at Haechan’s childishness, meeting his gaze as he waits for an answer. Although his words seem like they care, his eyes look tired and uninterested. It almost feels like he’s saying it because he has to. But you repress that feeling for arguments sake.

“Yeah.” You smile, simultaneously reaching out to find his hand and interlace your fingers. Your smile, however, quickly fades when you sense his reluctance, catching his hand moving out of reach from the corner of your eye.

“We should get going.” Mark mumbles, avoiding eye contact by picking up his phone and shoving some things into his bag.

You watch him through a pained expression, eyebrows furrowed and bottom lip slightly jutted out in confusion. Had you done something wrong? You weren’t sure. But you know you’re not getting an answer anytime soon because Mark has already left.

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes brimmed with tears as you keep your face tilted to the ground in hopes that no one noticed Mark’s coldness towards you.

“Come on (Y/N).” Yuta shoots you a sympathetic smile before extending his hand out to pull you up. You force a meek smile back, accepting his offer by muttering a light “thank you.” But that doesn’t stop the sinking feeling in your chest.

~

You’re not sure how to act towards Mark when you get back and the whole journey you’re in your head battling over different scenarios. You’re even debating on whether to go to the dorms or go straight to your apartment. You live in the same building as the guys, hence why you’re going home with them, but it isn’t uncommon for you to head to theirs most nights so you can spend time alone with Mark. Except, tonight you’re unsure if your boyfriend would even want you there. It also doesn’t help that he chose to go in a separate car.

“He’s been acting like that with everyone.” You hear Jaehyun’s empathetic voice break the silence.

“Yeah, please don’t let it hurt you.” Your eyes flicker up to meet Taeyong’s after sending a thankful smile towards Jaehyun.

“I know.” You sigh, not feeling up to talking much. You appreciate their kind words but you feel more hurt over the fact that Mark never reciprocates your affection when others are around. All they seem to see is when he rejects your affection.

By the time you’ve reached the dorms, Mark has already been home long enough to have taken a warm shower and rinse off the day. You have to hold back your scoff and eye roll when he walks into his room with a contented expression, humming some random tune.

“You staying tonight?” He flops onto the bed, wrapping you in his arms as he tries to draw you into his chest. Oh, so now he wants affection?

“(Y/N)?” He tries to get your attention, noticing how you haven’t accepted his cuddle yet. You haven’t even taken your eyes away from your phone screen. “What’s wrong? Did one of the guys annoy you on the way home?” And that’s when you lose it, letting out the unimpressed scoff you’ve been holding in. How oblivious can he really be!

“One of the guys? You are kidding me Mark.” You force your way out of his hold, sitting up properly so he can see your stearn expression. “All week you’ve been acting off around me, everyone noticed it.” You spit, trying to hold back your emotions.

“You wouldn’t even hold my hand earlier... it’s like you’re embarrassed to be with me.” You shift your gaze away from him the second you feel a tear run down your cheek. Great. Now I’m crying.

“That’s not fair, you know how busy I’ve been.” Mark calmly responds. He doesn’t seem angry or upset, in fact it’s only annoying you more that he’s not showing any reaction at all. Does he even care?

“You know what... forget it.” You exasperatedly stand up from his bed. “You clearly aren’t that into me anymore.” You feel your chest tighten, throat going dry as you do everything you can to hold back your hurt.

“Where are you going?” Mark sends you puppy eyes. He’s scared of your next words but he doesn’t know how to stop them from being uttered.

“Just... figure out what’s really important to you.” Is all you can bring yourself to say before finally walking away.

~

Five days, almost a full week since you’ve seen Mark. Yes, he’s been calling and messaging non stop, but you’ve simply left him on read. It’s not that you don’t want to be around him anymore, you just feel hurt and need more time before you go running back to him.

Sat in a secluded corner of the cafe you enjoy some quality time to yourself. For the first time since your argument with Mark you’re feeling ok, allowing yourself to enjoy the freshly brewed coffee as you listen to the radio that’s quietly played in the background. That doesn’t last long however, an abundance of noise growing ever closer from the street outside.

Your gaze flickers towards the entrance as the door swings open and the previously calm cafe is filled with noise.

“(Y/N)!” Your breath hitches in your throat, eyes widening and posture becoming stiff upon the breathless shout of your name. Although you couldn’t see who had called for you, the voice was unmistakable.

“We got approval.” Is the first thing Mark says to you as he reaches your table. He uses it for leaverage for a moment, ducking his head down as he catches his breath back.

“Ummm...” You awkwardly manage out, consciously gazing around the room, watching as what feels like hundreds of eyes become invested in your interaction. How’d he even know you were here?

You notice Mark’s head slightly lift, peaking up at you with his adorably awkward but amused grin. It’s clear he’s just as aware of the prying and eager people intruding your moment, but he doesn’t seem to care. After all, you know he’s used to it.

“The groups routine got approved today.” Mark clarifies, finally standing up properly once again.

“Should you even be here?” You counteract, guilt filling you as you notice his smile suddenly fall.

“Oh. Well, I, just...” Mark fumbles over his words, rubbing the back of his inflamed neck in embarrassment. “I couldn’t wait to tell you.”

You simply nod, holding back your reaction. “Could we maybe go somewhere more private?”

~

“You know, while the guys were celebrating I couldn’t help but feel underwhelmed, but then I realised that it was because the only person I cared about being there to celebrate with wasn’t around...” Mark confesses, his head hanging low as he sits on the edge of his bed next to you.

“And it was all my fault that you were, are, mad at me.” He solemnly mumbles the last part.

Yes, he’d hurt your feelings. But now you know he’d never intended too, that he was just so caught up in not wanting to let his group down. You understand that.

It had taken the whole journey back to his for him to explain everything, starting at all the pressure he’d felt to the day his cold attitude had finally pushed you over the edge.

“I’m not gonna say that pushing me away didn’t hurt, because it did.” Mark lifts his gaze when you begin to speek. “But I get that you had a lot on your plate and didn’t want to be smothered.” You shoot him a comforting smile.

“I still shouldn’t have been so inconsiderate to your feelings.” He sighs.

“Just as long as you don’t do it again we’ll be fine.” You softly chuckle, your heart skipping a beat when a grin appears on Mark’s face.

“I promise.” He nods, both of you staring at each other with stupidly cheesy smiles.

~

“There you are!” Mark instantly envelops you in a tight embrace the second you step foot into their practice room. “I missed you.” He whispers, gently placing a tender kiss to your lips.

“Well, I realised I never got to properly congratulate you all.” you turn to face everyone, elated with all the affection you’re receiving from Mark.

“You’re too adorable.” Mark coo’s, spinning you back around to face him once again.

“Yuck! Get a room.” Haechan mocks, pretending to vomit. But neither you or Mark mind, and besides, it’s not a bad idea...

[eggtoasties]

Chapter 2: II. Adagio

Read Chapter 1: I. Allegro

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: Kuroo used to think the best sound in the world was a volleyball hitting the court on the other side of the net. Now, he has other things on his repertoire.

They were both called to the music room during study hall. As Kuroo walked towards Jouda-sensei, he watched as their teacher tried to cajole her into something, unable to catch their words at a distance. Arms crossed, she sent Kuroo an unimpressed stare making him respond with a nervous grin as he came to a stop.

“I was hoping to set you two up for lessons during study hall,” Jouda-sensei said, nodding between the two of them.

“No offense,” she said, quickly glancing at Kuroo, “but I’m paid to do this outside of school. Also, I don’t really have time to meet every single day—shouldn’t Daisuke be doing this? I’m sure he,” she jutted her chin towards Kuroo, “and I will both get called to other teachers and clubs during study hall so I don’t know if this’ll work out,” she huffed.

Eyebrows raised high, Kuroo said, “Wow, didn’t realize I was dead meat to you already, first chair,” resulting in a pout from Jouda-sensei and a glare from her which made him nervously snicker. He put his hands in his pockets, subtly wiping away at the clamminess of his palms.

“Aw, come on now, you know Daisuke-kun isn’t…” Jouda-sensei trailed off, trying to find the words, “the best at teaching. But,” she said brightly, “you’re the leader for a reason! And it doesn’t have to be every day—just coordinate with each other and other people to set up a rotation. I just want Kuroo-kun to be set up with good habits from the start.”

Sighing wearily and nodding, she faced Kuroo as Jouda-sensei left them.

Slouching in what he hoped was a nonchalant pose, he flashed a grin.

“So, are you gonna charge me by the minute?” Kuroo arched his brow. “Because I don’t really have the funds for that. Plus, I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed to sell anything on school grounds.” Readjusting his backpack straps and slightly loosening his tie, his eyes met hers quickly before finding a place over her shoulder. “But, if you don’t have time or whatever that’s--” he stumbled over his words, “I’m sure I can figure something out.”

Rolling her eyes, she loosened her school tie. “Yeah, I’m going to charge a thousand yen a minute and if you don’t pay up, I’ll have my goons knock your kneecaps in.”

“Didn’t realize being captain,” she shot him an amused grin and he bookmarked it for later, “of the orchestra came with your own henchmen. Maybe I should’ve started way earlier,” he drawled.

“Yup,” she said cheerily, popping the ‘p.’ “They do all my coursework and bully people out of their lunch money so I can add it to my secret treasury in the cave underneath the school,” she said conspiratorially. “Also,” she began, facing fully towards him. “It’s nice to meet you—I really don’t mind helping you out, it’s just that with my last year of high school things are hectic with exams and applications and I really can’t commit to everyday,” she explained.

His shoulders relaxed with a breath he didn’t know he was holding, previous tension dissipating with her explanation. Kuroo nodded and held out his hand. As she grasped it, he raised a brow at the strength of her small grip and brightly painted nails.

“I get it.” Kuroo finally said. “I’m a third year too and it’s hard enough as it is without having to teach a newbie every day,” he said, semi-fondly thinking of Lev, “—all good.”

“Alright, well,” she said, swaying on the balls of her feet, “let’s get started.”

She had him play open strings so she could assess his posture and Kuroo was not accustomed to being the center of such intense concentration. Sure, he’s served a million times in games where he knew every eye was on him, but she seemed to scrutinize every aspect of his body. The distribution of his weight on his legs, the angle of his shoulders, the slope of his wrists, finger placement, and even his face—there was something to adjust. To be fair, she did say his face looked like he was constipated, but he figured it was because one should always look serene during such a cultured activity.

A gentle tap to the shoulder, a tap to his left inner wrist, her hands guided his body as he became accustomed to the instrument. She stood slightly behind him to his side at one point and gently held his right arm and set another hand on his shoulder to show him how the bow should move. He’s used to his body—Kuroo would say he has a better understanding of what his body is capable of than most people but, gentle movements to work with a foreign object was completely new territory. She’s not teaching him how to read a volleyball midair and figure out what the best millisecond worth of contact is. She’s not grabbing his lanky arms to show him how to position for a block—this is completely different.

He figured it’s one thing to adjust to new innovative plays mid-game and another to feel so entirely helpless and clunky. Although she’s only been patient and gentle, he can’t help but feel unsure and awkward in his body as he tried to follow her instruction. Maybe, Kuroo thought to himself, I should cut Lev some slack.

“Can you feel how your arm hinges at the elbow, but the elbow itself stays still?” she asked, lightly grasping his elbow and guiding his forearm. His skin tingled at the contact through his shirt and he repressed a shiver.

He’s used to physical contact—from his teammates. High fives, hugs, and fist bumps. But from a stranger…it’s different. He’s hyper aware of the calluses of her left hand when she taps the bare skin of his wrists and although each touch is light and fleeting, a part of him wished they’d linger for a little longer.

After a while, she grabbed her instrument and mirrored his movements, showing him the angles of her body in relation to the violin and bow. He stood in awe of the confidence of her actions, drawing a rich deep sound from the strings unlike the scratchy wobbly sounds he’d been producing.

She taught him two scales, explained basic music concepts he vaguely remembered from piano lessons and before he knew it, study hall was coming to a close. Head full with new information, shoulders a little tense, he absentmindedly fixed his tie while they packed up.

“Don’t feel discouraged during class,” she said. “Everyone around you has been playing for years longer. Just keep practicing and you’ll get there.” Adjusting the books in her hand she asked, “Why’d you decide to take orchestra?”

“I needed art credit. Can’t sing, can’t draw, didn’t want to do something on the computer and I didn’t know what band music was,” he shrugged. Immediately, he internally cringed at his explanation.

“Wait, actually--” Before he could try and amend his previous statement, he’s cut off by her laugh.

“You chose well,” she said. Then leaning towards him, she dropped to a faux whisper, “orchestra’s better than band.”

Kuroo felt heat creep up the back of his neck while she laughed so he tilted his head to the side and covered it with a smirk. “I don’t know about that,” he said cockily.

She snorted which did little to calm the confusing beating of his heart and he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that she didn’t take the bait. Oh well, he thought, better try harder.

“You’re the one who enrolled in or-ches-tra,” she said, over enunciating the syllables. “Unless,” she sing-songed, “you feed into the stereotype that athletes are,” she pouted and batted her lashes, “stupid.”

He guffawed at her boldness but revelled in the glint in her eyes and the smug way she held her head.

“It wounds me that you would insult my intelligence without even knowing me,” he sniffed and wiped away a fake tear while she stifled a giggle. “I cannot believe my music teacher—my classmate—my captain has a bias against athletes,” he frowned and tilted his head. Pausing for a beat in contemplation, he sighed and continued lazily, “You must have been one of those kids in elementary school who always got picked last in gym.” He shrugged before delivering the final blow, “So you had no choice but to turn to music.”

He kept his face neutral as he studied her reaction. Her eyes narrowed at him and he broke out into a grin.

“It’s okay to admit it, I promise I won’t ask you to do something impossible like catch a ball or something,” he said, waving a hand placatingly. He caught the corner of her lip twitching despite the deadpan stare she tried to maintain.

“Give me your number,” she said, pulling out her phone.

“Woah, woah,” he said, dodging her attempts to force her phone in his hands. “If this was all an elaborate ruse to ask me out,” he dodged a jab to his side, “you didn’t have to get Jouda-sensei in on it too, who would’ve thought our little prodigy had it bad for the volleyball captain?”

“First of all, study hall is ending, but it seems that you were too preoccupied with trying to flirt with me to notice,” she said as Kuroo crossed his arms indignantly. Was he trying to flirt, he wondered. “Also, you’re forgetting that you’re the one who needs violin teachers,” she explained impatiently, finally getting him to accept her phone.

“Plus, if anything this just shows that you’ve been planning to confess to me for the past three years, but you were too nervous so you used your arts credit as an excuse to talk to me when everyone knows there are easier ways to get the credit,” she rambled as he punched his number in. “Also, you have a stand partner and a section leader—both of whom are not me, so I bet you,” she pointed an accusatory finger, “roped Jouda-sensei into this cozy little arrangement,” she said triumphantly.

Kuroo stuttered. “Maybe you should be a writer—what is up with your imagination?” he asked disbelievingly.

“No, no,” she said breezily, waving a hand absentmindedly, “I just figured you out, no need to feel embarrassed.”

Shifting his weight to one foot and running a hand through his hair, Kuroo’s lip quirked. “Guess you caught me,” he shrugged nonchalantly, extending their jest, “I’ve been in it for the long con, but,” he dropped a little lower to her height. “I never lose.”

Kuroo wanted to stab himself. It’s one thing, he mentally berated, to say those lines in the shower. Another thing entirely to say them to a human being? So used to provoking people just before they really got annoyed, he figured he got too comfortable. While his friends were used to his sarcastic quips and little agitations, not many people threw it right back at him. Should I apologize? Am I going to fail orchestra? Yamamoto was right, I should’ve taken sculpture I should’ve—

He was broken from his internal panic when she gently pushed his shoulder. “Well, seeing that the volleyball team has never won nationals, that seems to be a lie.”

Completely forgetting his previous anxieties, his mouth gaped open. “W-we’re definitely making it to nationals and we’re definitely going to win this year!” he nearly yelled. “A-and since when do you keep up with the volleyball team! This is more evidence that you’ve been trying to get my number for the past decade!”

“Who said anything about the past ten years!” she screeched. Kuroo watched his phone in her hand with concern as she waved her arms in disbelief. “And Yaku’s in my homeroom, idiot. He talks about the team constantly,” finally shoving his phone back to him.

Sighing a little in relief he checked his messages. “If I’m so wrong about you lusting,” she rolled her eyes so hard all he saw was white, “after me for all these years, what’s this!” he exclaimed, presenting his phone screen to her face.

It was a message from her that read: “Tetsu-chan, I think you’re so, so, so, so, sO cute!!” with several brightly colored heart emojis trailing after the message.

She immediately lunged for his phone to which he responded by smugly holding it above her head, pouting a little when she wouldn’t try and jump for it.

“Y-you planned this!” she yelled, making a move to grab at his sleeve.

“Nope,” he said languidly, smoothly side stepping her advances. “You just think I’m so, so, so, so, cute!” he said brightly as he placed his phone in his back pocket.

“I’m going to break your kneecaps in your sleep,” she grumbled.

As the bell rang and study hall ended, he sent her a little wave as he walked to his next class.

“Looking forward to it!”

.

Nearing his next class, he felt a short buzz in his pocket. Pulling out his phone he grinned at the texts. Nothing like riling people up on a Tuesday morning to get his blood pumping.

After he had left her standing in the music room, cheeks tinged pink and arms crossed, she sent him several texts. Many of them listed the ways she was going to abuse his kneecaps—he wasn’t quite sure why she was so fixated on them—poking fun at athlete stereotypes, and how he’d better practice every day.

They spent the day sending each other sporadic insults without heat which eventually devolved into actual questions about each other.

How did you start playing the violin? When did you start volleyball? Do you play in orchestras outside of school? What’s your position? How should I practice? What are sports practices like? What class are you in? What’s your favorite food? What’s your favorite color? What do you mean you bought a chemistry set for fun?

Kuroo was in his history class when he realized he was barely paying attention to the lesson. Expecting his usual meticulous notes when he looked down at his notebook, he saw he had hardly filled half a page of information. Too preoccupied with the little thrill of excitement that came with each text, he couldn’t help but discreetly check his phone every few seconds. He tried paying closer attention to the lecture, but tapped his foot restlessly, itching to see how she responded.

.

The school day ended in a blur and he found himself in front of the club room door. Violin case in hand, he swung open the entrance and proudly stated, “I learned scales today.”

“Fukunaga and I took choir last year and learned scales too,” Yaku responded. “Stop looking so proud about it, it’s literally a basic,” he commented offhandedly as he put on his uniform.

Chest still puffed, Kuroo didn’t let it deter him. “I’m reading music!”

Kenma grimaced over his phone when Lev seemed impressed and Fukunaga tried to stifle his laughter behind his hand.

Pulling top from behind, Kuroo asked, “Yaku, do you know the concertmaster?”

“The, huh?”

“The first chair violinist. Our year, in class 3-B?” Kuroo clarified. “She’s about this tall,” indicating with his hand, “her favorite color’s blue and she really likes fruit tarts?”

Ignoring the questioning glances from his teammates, Kuroo waited expectedly. Yaku paused. Eyes widening in recognition he brightened.

“Yeah! She’s been in my homeroom for the past three years, she’s nice. Smart, big on music, does a bunch of music competition thingies!”

“Thingies?” Kuroo mocked. “How old are you?”

“Shut up you glorified bean pole! I don’t know what she does in her free time, why are you so interested all of a sudden?

“She’s my violin teacher! I just wanted to make sure she wasn’t a serial killer or something,” Kuroo mumbled, tying his shoes a little forcefully.

“Okay,” Yaku drawled out, not believing his teammate. “I know the theatre club always asks her to be in their pit orchestra, but man their funding really got cut over the years, I wonder how they’re going to build the set this year, I mean they’re really trying to out-do themselves and—”

He stopped when he noticed the rest of the team staring at him in varying states of confusion and disbelief.

Yaku sniffed. “I have other interests and friends outside of volleyball, thank you very much…” he said, turning his head.

“Wow,” Yamamoto said, slowly shaking his head from side to side. “Yaku-senpai doing Shakespeare or something, could you imagine?”

“Yaku-senpai would definitely play the jester or something,” Lev chimed in. “But he’s so small would the audience even be able to see him on stage?” He wondered out loud.

Facing away from his bickering teammates, Kuroo hid his flush in the collar of his warm up jacket and willed for the heat to subside. He thought about what Yaku said—not about him being secretly into theatre, which Kuroo would definitely use in the future—but about having other friends outside of volleyball.

He knew he wasn’t as shy as he used to be, thank god, but he realized he had always kept his inner circle small. Not entirely on purpose, but those he spent the most physical proximity to tended to also become close friends—thinking fondly of his parents forcing him to meet Kenma.

He remembered how he nearly threw a tantrum when his Tou-san told him they were visiting neighbors down the street and that they had a son his age that he could play with. The thought of leaving their home—which hardly felt like home at the time of their move—to meet some stranger had filled him with such trepidation he had promised he’d practice the piano harder if he could just stay home.

However, his Tou-san gently grasped him by the shoulder and made him carry the box of oranges to Kenma’s. Multiple hours of awkward stuttering and silent game playing finally bloomed into a tentative friendship with the introduction of a volleyball and Kuroo figured that now Kenma’s more of a brother than anything else.

Outside of his team and casual school acquaintances, Kuroo thinks of Bokuto. A pleasant surprise when they met at a Tokyo training camp. With Bokuto came Akaashi and with Kuroo came Kenma and Kuroo never felt the need to expand beyond his core group. But meeting her—is different.

Different in that she stumbled into his life outside the court and he’s not sure if his fingers had ever been this sweaty from texting all day. He wondered if she’s a sign that he should actively try and meet new people but he quickly discards that idea and chalks it up to serendipity.

“—hey cut it out!” Kai yelled at Yaku lunging for Lev who was holding a volleyball in one hand, “To be or not to be, will Yaku-senpai ever grow again?”

Snapped out of his musings, Kuroo raised two hands to the group, “Alright, alright,” he tried to placate while Kai held Yaku back and Yamamoto cried tears of laughter.

“Keep going, Lev!” Yamamoto egged on.

“Too sleep, perchance to dream,” Lev continued, “that Kuroo-san will finally fix that rooster’s head of his.”

Amidst the collective roar of laughter, Kuroo snatches the volleyball from Lev’s hand and throws it at him.

.

Head lolled back against the train window, grimacing at the pull of his worn muscles, Kuroo stretched in his seat. Next to him, Kenma absentmindedly scrolled on his phone, sporadically showing Kuroo funny tidbits to pass the time on their nightly commute back home.

“Kuroo,” Kenma said as quick fingers typed out a text, “why are you taking this orchestra credit so seriously?”

Pausing for a bit, not-so-subtly reading Kenma’s text, he responded.

“I had a lesson earlier today and it seems like,” he ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t know, a disservice,” his voice rose up as a question while his brows drew together, “if I don’t give it my best shot when everyone else is so much better.”

Kuroo shrugged at Kenma’s contemplative nod.

“Anyways,” Kuroo continued, “she said thirty minutes of daily practice for a beginner will go a long way and she said we’d only really focus on the stuff for the concert so hopefully I can manage by then.”

Pausing his scrolling, Kenma looked up at Kuroo and blinked at him.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Kuroo narrowed his eyes at Kenma, having a growing suspicion of where his friend’s thoughts were, but ignored it in favor of watching him scroll through his phone.

Other passengers shuffled around them, coming and going onto their train and Kuroo looked out the window, frowning slightly at the last remnants of sunset fading away to cool indigos.

“Y’know, Kenma, I don’t think I want to just do volleyball for the rest of my life,” Kuroo said softly, breaking the stillness between them.

“No shit,” Kenma responded instantly over the animated beeping of his game. “Your joints definitely can’t take it for the rest of your life.”

Scoffing, Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Please--I mean, I’m going to go to college and still play, but,” he shifted his gaze towards the ceiling of the train car, “I want to learn more things.”

“Yes,” Kenma said slowly, “that makes a lot of sense.”

“I like learning new things, I always want to know more and I don’t know,” he pulled at his shirt collar. “With violin--it feels like I haven’t sucked at something for a while.”

With that Kenma snorted, thinking of when Kuroo tries to play video games with him or that horrendous volleyball club promotional poster Kuroo made that yes, he did take a picture of before crumpling and throwing it in the trash.

Kenma’s game pinged as Kuroo hugged his violin case between his legs.

“Plus,” Kuroo continued, “she said music is kind of like math with the rules and the counting, and when it all comes together like pieces of a puzzle it makes your hair rise and I feel like that’s kinda like volleyball too.”

“You get goosebumps when you solve a math problem,” Kenma repeated slowly.

“Missing the point there, but yes.” Contemplating a bit he added, “More when I balance a chemical reaction, but yeah, why?”

Kenma paused his game and set it on his lap, lips twitching.

“You’re not allowed to judge me,” Kuroo complained.

“I am,” Kenma responded quickly.

“Well quit it.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Kenma popped the knuckles of his fingers and unpaused his video game.

“No.”

They sat there for a beat, each thinking about the unknowns--the unknown power of this new boss guarding the princess in the tower and the unknown of the near future, where game plays are traded for textbooks and the hopeful future of featherlight, fleeting touches and sweet, sweet melodies.

[writesowhatnext]

gotta do the cooking by the book // fred weasley

Summary: reader just wants to do some baking… Fred has other, less savoury, ideas

Request: not really – I figured I should counteract my sadfred with happyfred

A/N: very much hope you enjoy my loves!!! I literally love writing domestic Fred and George post-BoH like it soothes my soul

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: suggestive themes, swearing, battle of Hogwarts, making out

You huffed, staring blankly at the mess you’d created around you. The recipe book you’d been using was covered in flour and – was that a piece of eggshell? You huffed again, flicking away the shell and rubbing your hands down your face, trying to read the instructions again. All you wanted to do was make a nice cake to take to the Burrow, to pay Molly back for all her lovely dinners over the years, it really shouldn’t have been too hard. The cake itself seemed easy, actually, but as you stared at the tins and the heaps of icing sugar you had in front of you, your surprised pride at your success was waning quickly.

“Honey, I’m home!”

You bit your lip, concentrating far too much to turn to Fred when he walked in. A frown dragged at his eyebrows in response and he sighed loudly, like a child, when he saw you slaving over the countertop in a bombsite of baking utensils and puddles of substances lost in various stages of the baking process.

“You should be a lot happier to see me, your darling husband, after he’s had such a long day of work,” he said, setting his bag on the floor and walking over to you.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your head as he looked down at the book in front of you, quickly getting distracted by what you were wearing.

“Is this my jumper?” he asked, running his hand up your side, over the familiar knitted fabric beneath his fingers. You hummed in response, not looking up even as you pecked him on the cheek before turning back to the page. He pouted. Not that you noticed, though.

“And why are you making a cake?” he asked, stepping back and taking his blazer off, throwing on the countertop.

“For your Mum,” you muttered before tentatively lifting up the icing sugar and measuring it out just as dutifully.

“Mum? Why-“ Fred cut himself off with a long, dramatic groan. “Do we have to go to that dinner tonight?”

His whining was enough to drag a smile from you, to iron out the crease that had developed between your brows. He wrapped his arms around you, earning a tut as he knocked your elbow, icing sugar dusting the surface.

“You know we do, Freddie,” you said, breaking off a block of softened butter, watching it land into the volcano of sugar you’d created. His chin rested on your head as you began to mix them together.

“But I don’t want to,” he whined, pouting at you as you stepped back and looked at him finally. He tried to hold off the emerging smile, but seeing your face always made his day better and despite yourself, you couldn’t help but grin, too, at his sulky expression. “I just want to stay here, with you.”

Your heart warmed at his words but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“We could tell Mum I got dragonpox?” he said, eyebrows raised. You shot him a dry look.

“And have her come here to look after you? Great plan there, love.”

You exhaled sharply from your nose, amused at the comedic way his face fell.

“Can you mix that for me?” you asked, pointing to the bowl of icing you’d just started whilst licking some sugar from your thumb.

“Me?” Fred asked, following your thumb with his eyes.

“No,” you shot him a deadpan look, pushing his back to usher him over to the sink. “Your imaginary friend. Yes, you, you muppet.”

He turned to you and stared for a second, trying desperately to ignore your puppy dog eyes as you jutted out your bottom lip. He narrowed his eyes as you leant forward, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Fine, fine, you win. Always your bloody slave, I am.”

“Perfect!” you said, a wide grin stretching your lips. “Just wash your hands first.”

He rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. He did as he was told, though, side-stepping you so he could get to the bowl whilst you pulled the cake from the tins.

“I don’t really want to go either if I’m honest,” you said, pushing your hair from your face, leaving a large swoop of icing sugar from your hand in your wake. “If I have to listen to Harry go on about how he named his kid after the two bravest men he knew again, I’ll have an aneurysm.”

Fred chuckled under his breath, pursing his lips at your words.

“No offence, of course, because that boy is the sweetest baby in the whole world and I love Harry, but blimey. He named the other one James Sirius – that’s a cracking name, hard to follow, mind you. But, really? I can’t imagine actually being there when Neville chopped the head off that bloody snake and having the gall the call my kid Severus,” you paused for a moment, huffing slightly as you struggled with removing the tin.

Fred had given up with the icing now, too concentrated on you and your little tirade. He wasn’t listening all too closely, more like admiring the view. He smiled as he noticed the streak of icing sugar across your cheek and the dried chocolate mixture smeared on your forehead. Your hair was messier than usual and he couldn’t help but enjoy the sight, especially when you frowned, your pretty lips curling downwards as you ran a hand through the already knotted strands. He felt whole, he realised with a strange relief, as he looked at you.

“Severus blood Snape,” you tutted, shaking your head. “It’s their choice, obviously, and I’ll love that kid regardless but how he got Gin to agree to that I’ll never know.”

Fred stopped listening then, though he could still see your mouth moving, decidedly pretty expressions contorting your features.

“You’re the love of my life, you know that?” he said, interrupting you as his hand stilled on the wooden spoon in his grip. You turned to him, eyes wide, cheeks flushed and mouth open before your brows sunk. Your eyes narrowed to slits as you stared at him, immediately cautious.

“What did you do?”

He laughed at your suspicion; offence written all over his face.

“You, my love, are extremely paranoid-“

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and placing a hand on your hip.

“Excuse me, but you’re a menace to society; with you as a husband it’s a wonder I’m not more paranoid.”

Fred hummed and the spoon clattered to the side of the bowl as he moved to envelop you in his arms, holding you with your back to his chest. You allowed yourself a moments peace from your frantic baking, Fred’s presence taking the edge off, as always.

“I love it when you call me that,” he said softly, muttering into your hair. You smirked and turned around in his arms, looking up to see an affectionate smile playing on his lips.

“What? A menace to society?”

He huffed, frowning as he pinched at your waist, enjoying the squeal that escaped your lips.

“No, cheeky,” he whispered, a fond look in his eyes. “Your husband.”

“Well,” you said, running your hands up and down his arms. “That’s what you are, isn’t it?”

He tilted his head to the side before leaning down and placing a short peck on your nose, grinning at the way your face scrunched up. You both stood there for a moment, enjoying each other. Then, like a light switching off, Fred’s face became very serious.

“I mean it, though. I’m serious. You are the love of my life.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to blow off his words with some half-witty comment or just blatant ignorance, not when he was staring at you so intently with such love in his dark eyes. You remembered the look on his face from the Battle of Hogwarts, from when you’d wandered over to each other with the battle just finishing around you, dead bodies of people you knew at your feet. To say you were happy to see him then was the greatest understatement of the century. You’d never seen anyone look more in love than Fred that day, and the thought alone made you melt inside.

“You’re a sweet talker, Fred Weasley.”

His face changed again, ever so quickly, into something a lot more mischievous, a lot more familiar.

“Between that and my devilishly handsome good looks, it’s no wonder you married me, is it?”

“Oh no,” you said sweetly, turning back to your cakes. “I wonder every day.”

He barked an incredulously laugh before his hand found your hip, pulling you back into him, spatula in hand.

“Fred! I need to finish this-“

Before you could finish your sentence, let alone your cake, his lips were on yours and you were sighing into his mouth, leaning into his tall frame with the spatula resting against his chest. He pulled you closer to him by the waist, leaning down to meet you more easily as his hands roamed underneath his jumper. His cold fingers lingered over the bare skin of your waist and sides and you gasped at the contact, the sound muffled by his lips. He made a whimpering noise as your hands reached into his hair; your fingers scratching lightly at his scalp. You both smiled into the kiss and for a second, it felt like it had when you were younger, when you first got together so long ago. Gently, you pulled away, staring up at Fred through your eyelashes, biting your swollen bottom lip at the way leant towards you, keen to continue your moment.

“Are you sure you need to finish that now?” he said softly with a rather suggestive eyebrow raised. You were reluctant to leave your cake project as it was, but Fred’s hands rubbing up and down your sides made it hard to think about anything else, your breath hitching in your throat. You frowned, swallowing underneath the weight of his knowing grin. The bastard knew he had you.

“We probably have half an hour-“

You didn’t get chance to finish your thought before Fred threw you upside down and over his shoulder. You blinked at the sudden change, a loud huff leaving your lips as Fred made towards the stairs.

“Fred!” you scolded breathlessly, hitting his back with your fist.

“Don’t worry, love.” He said with a smile in his voice, completely unfazed. With one hand wrapped around your calves and the other resting on your bum, he jogged up the stairs towards your room; even from your position, you could practically sense his shit-eating grin. “I’ll get you back to your dessert as soon as I’ve had mine.”

harry potter tag list:

@creator-appreciator

@loveisblindness

@decadentwastelandtrash

@xinyourdreamsx

@brainlesspasta

@hariosborn

@rexorangecouny

@staringmoony

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Flower Crowns

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warnings: Cursing (I bet you have no idea why)

═══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ═══════ 

You chewed on your lip, glancing down at the contact photo of your boyfriend, who cockily smirked up at you from your phone. An idea had crossed your mind as you laid on your bed, bored out of your mind in your room.

"Screw it," you muttered to yourself.

You tapped on the text box and asked him the question that had been on your mind for the past five minutes.

You rolled your eyes at his response to you as you swung your feet over the side of your bed. It was the middle of summer and you made sure you took advantage of the heat as an excuse to wear minimal clothing around your boyfriend. Today that meant denim booty shorts and a flattering white tank top.

You made your way out the door with only your phone and a picnic blanket, walking to the park that was located a few blocks away from your house. When you arrived, you laid out your blanket a few meters away from a little playground. It was a gorgeous day out, so you weren't surprised to see a couple of kids running around the equipment, some bored parents accompanying them by sitting on benches positioned in the shade.

You sat down on your blanket, leaning back on your hands as you basked in the mottled sunlight under a tree, patterns of shadows flickering across your legs and chest. While you waited for your boyfriend, who lived considerably further from the park, you watched the children play. As they laughed, you remembered yourself playing on the very same playground with some of your friends you'd had in elementary school. The sudden sense of cold, bittersweet nostalgia filled your senses, shocking you by making your chest tighten a bit.

Where has the time gone . . . ?

A strong hand gripped your bare shoulder, violently jarring you from your thoughts. You twisted yourself around to see Katsuki Bakugou bending over you, his face neutral as he looked down at you.

"Katsuki!" you breathed out, lifting a hand to clutch your chest. "Geez, you startled me."

He smirked at you, flashing his gums before plopping himself down beside you. "Jumpy today, aren't we?" He leaned over and kissed your cheek, a light scent of smoke and caramel greeting your nose.

"Well, maybe next time don't sneak up on me when I'm alone." You dropped the issue, letting your face relax into a light smile as you let yourself fall backward onto the blanket. Katsuki's eyes roved over you as you laid there, watching him back as you enjoyed the feeling of the grass poking your legs and back through the thin blanket. Bakugou was wearing his usual blank tank top with loose-fitting cargo shorts, which you appreciated.

You inhaled the fresh air, thoroughly delighted to be outside on a day like today, allowing your eyes to close.

"So are you going to do your girly crafty shit or are we just going to sit here?"

You sighed, sitting up. "I was enjoying the day. Do you ever stop and just appreciate nature?"

Bakugou glanced around himself, taking a moment to glare at the kids over on the playset. "Don't usually have time for it."

"Well now is a perfect time." You stood, stretching. "It's summer break, man. You don't have to spend every minute of every day training to become a hero."

Bakugou rolled his eyes, watching you as you stretched your arms and puffed out your chest above him. "So what am I supposed to do while you put flowers in your hair or whatever?"

You ignored the teasing tone of his voice, just bordering on mean. You jutted out your hip, resting a hand on it. "You didn't have to come. I just wanted to spend time with you. Besides, doing everything alone is boring."

Bakugou tched, turning his head to the side.

"What?" you asked. "Don't you like spending time with me?"

His head snapped back to look at you again. "Of course I do, dumbass. Why else did you think I came here?"

You shrugged, shifting your feet. "I'm going to go find some flowers. You wanna come with me?"

Bakugou grumbled, getting to his feet and shoving his hands in his pockets.

You smirked. After being with your temperamental boyfriend for a little over a year now, you were well aware that this was just how he was. He truly cared about you, he just had an odd way of showing it. But no matter what came out of his crude mouth, here he was, following you to go pick flowers. Just because you asked.

You led him to a field stretching out behind the park, filled with a multitude of flowers and long grasses. (Guys, for realsies, respect nature and stuff so you probably shouldn't just pick flowers on public property but this is just for the sake of fluff. Respect wildlife!) You started selecting some particularly vibrant flowers, making sure to keep their stems long. Bakugou stood back, watching you.

"Jesus, how many of those are you going to make?" he asked, looking at your bundle of flowers.

"Just two," you answered, skipping your way back to your blanket without waiting for him.

"Who the hell else are you going to—wait. I am not wearing one of those!"

He followed you at a brisk pace in order to catch up. You plopped yourself down on the blanket and began to sort your flowers, still ignoring Katsuki's protests. He pouted, sitting next to you, stretching one leg out and bending his other knee. He had placed his chin in his hand, slightly covering his mouth and nose.

Once you had two roughly equal piles, you pulled out your phone and opened your tab on Pinterest. You had found some instructions for how to weave flower stems, and now couldn't be any more of a perfect time to try it out. You just hoped it wouldn't be an epic failure. Even if it was, you decided, it was nice to be outside spending time with your boyfriend, even if he was still pouting and not looking at you.

You studied your screen, beginning to replicate what you observed before you as you started to twist and flatten the flowers exactly as you saw. You felt Katsuki watching you out of the corner of his eye, transfixed by the movements of your hands. He didn't seem to be in the mood to talk, and you weren't sure what to say. Either way, you enjoyed his company and began to hum a little sweet tune. It started out as something you vaguely knew, but as the real notes escaped your mind you began to make up new ones, producing whichever one you thought would sound prettiest coming after the next.

"What song is that?" Bakugou asked, his voice somewhat muffled by his hand.

You stopped humming. "Nothing. I'm just kinda making it up as I go along."

Bakugou finally looked at you. His crimson eyes watched your face as you met them momentarily before going back to your work. "It was pretty," he admitted, pulling up his other knee so he could rest his head on them instead.

"I do it when we cuddle," you said, keeping your voice quiet. This time, you were the one not pointedly looking at him.

Katsuki nonchalantly glanced around, making sure no one was close enough to overhear the heinous news that he, Katsuki Bakugou, partook in such uncool activities as cuddling.

"Hmm," was his only response.

It was true, you enjoyed singing to him and though he'd never admit it, Bakugou loved listening to you. Some nights the two of you would be hanging out alone in his room. He'd have his arms wrapped around your waist and his head on your chest. His own personal body pillow, he'd brush off. Tsun tsun Baku, that's all he was.

He'd close his eyes and you'd stroke the top of his head, his spiky hair flowing under your fingertips only to fluff back up again. The rhythmic motion of your hand always prompted you to start humming lullabies, your music floating in the still air around you.

The first time you had done it, Bakugou had opened his eyes, staring up at you like you were crazy. It was the first time he'd heard you sing in front of him. If it were anyone else, he might have told them to shut up, but there was something about how you orchestrated your voice that made him melt, so he kept silent. Now he'd do anything to get you to hum to him. Anything that is, except ask. He'd even go as far as letting you hold him in that same cuddling position, even though he preferred to be the one holding you most of the time.

He tried to hide things like this from you, but you knew him. You were smart. You also happened to be a bit of a tease, sometimes purposefully denying him of what he was indirectly asking for. You found infinite amusement in seeing his frustration as he tried to come to terms with the fact that he loved you and everything about you.

"Why did you stop?" Katsuki's voice jarred you from your idle thoughts.

"No reason."

You attempted to start back up again but soon became distracted.

"Now what?" Bakugou asked, sounding genuinely annoyed.

You were squinting at your instructions, studying a drawing and then a picture of the flower crown you were trying to replicate. "I seem to be stuck." You now realized that your instructions had no way of showing how you should finish your piece.

Bakugou sighed and leaned over. He grabbed your phone, looking at the picture for himself and then looking over to what you had been doing. He carefully picked up your curving ring of flowers. His hands held it more gently than one who didn't know him so well would have thought possible for him.

"You just have to weave in the ends, it's obvious," he said.

"Oh."

He took one of the stems in his fingers and experimentally threaded it through the one below it. He had been watching you, and he now copied your actions to make sure the crown was securely connected in a ring.

It was your turn to watch him work, your smile growing wider on your face as you observed his actions. He didn't seem to notice you until it was too late. Bakugou glanced up after snapping off a few stem ends with his fingernails.

"What the hell are you smirking at?!" he shouted.

You just kept smiling. "I'm not smirking, I'm just proud of my talented boyfriend."

"It's not like it's that difficult!" He set the crown on the blanket in front of him, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I thought you said you weren't into this kind of thing."

"You said that, dumbass. But you're right, I'm not."

"I'm just saying that you're not as much of a big meanie as you make yourself seem."

"I'm just good at everything! I just don't like doing this kind of girly, artsy shit!"

You opened your mouth to say something.

"—and I'm not soft!"

"Are you hard then?"

"Ye—no! But—not like—" He growled, his cheeks dusted with pink.

You fell back, your shoulders shaking with laughter.

"Stop!" he protested, his lip jutting out as he bared his teeth at you.

You sat up and kissed his cheek. "I love you."

His face flushed even more. He rubbed the spot where you had kissed him; not hard like he was trying to wipe it off, rather more like he was just flustered, which it was surprisingly easy for you to make him.

You rested your chin on your hand, raising your eyebrows for his response to your declaration.

He glowered at your cheerful face. "I guess I love you too, dumbass, even when you pull shit like this."

You smiled even brighter, satisfied with his answer. Your hand went for your second pile of flowers.

"What are you doing?" Bakugou asked.

"Making a second flower crown."

"But you didn't finish the first one."

You shrugged. "I think it's done."

"But there are still pieces hanging off the side!"

You shrugged again, taking the first two flowers to start wrapping them together.

"You can't spend all this time on one of your stupid little crafts and then just quit!"

You looked up at him, your face falling to deadpan. "You started working on it and quit too."

Bakugou inhaled sharply. "Oh, I see, you're just trying to rope me in."

"I think I already did."

"You did not."

"Well if it was too hard for you to tie flowers together—"

Bakugou made one of his signature screaming war cries, finally fed up with your antics. Some of the moms at the playset looked over at the two of you, wondering if they needed to remove their children from the premises of the screaming blond boy.

He snatched up the original flower crown that was still sitting between you two and started back with his weaving, although this time he was a little less delicate in his motions.

You briefly wondered if he might make it fall apart, but then you realized you didn't particularly care. Besides, you had made it pretty tight, and you were just watching as he fixed it to become even more secure.

You lifted the side of your mouth in another smile, rolling your eyes at your boyfriend's antics for the millionth time. You went back to the second crown, the motions of folding and wrapping and smoothing now almost second nature after getting it down so well with the first one. You almost forgot about your pissed boyfriend next to you until you felt something being pressed onto the top of your head.

"There! It's finished!"

Petals and stems flopped into your vision as the wreath slid forward on your head. You picked it up, looking at it for yourself. Your eyes traced how the stems were woven together. If you focused enough, you could kind of see where Bakugou had started to work on it himself, the weaving pattern having changed slightly. You grinned and put it back on your head, this time adjusting it so it wouldn't fall.

"You see, it looks really nice!" you said. "And we made it together! Kinda."

Bakugou just tched, having gone back to not looking at you.

You went back to your work, making this one a little bigger than your last. After a minute or so, you started humming again, casually attempting to get Bakugou to look at you again.

His shoulders started to relax after a few minutes, and he even laid down to look up into the tree. "You look cute by the way." His voice was a welcome break in the midst of your own.

"Thanks, babe." You used the last of the flowers, your product showcasing some extra stems at the end. "Baby," you said, your voice lilting, still warmed up after your music.

Bakugou cracked open his eyes, which he had shut sometime while you weren't paying attention. "What?"

You held up your most recent flower crown for him to see. "Can you finish this off for me, please?"

He rolled his eyes, sighing. "You're not going to let me say no, aren't you?"

"Nope."

He groaned, pushing himself off the ground. He held his hand out to you and you placed your wreath into his awaiting palm. "I'm only doing this because, for some reason, you can't seem to be able to do it yourself."

You dramatically put the back of your wrist to your forehead. "Whatever would I do without you, Katsuki? If you hadn't graced my existence with your presence, I simply don't think I would have survived without you!"

"Damn right."

You noticed his tiny smile as he finished off your flower crown, his fingers working the stems into each other until he was satisfied they were secure, then snipping off the excess with the tips of his fingernails.

"There," he said eventually. He put it on the top of your head, this time with less gusto than he had the first one. "Now what?"

You sat there with two flower crowns on your head. "It's a nice day out, we can sit here." You twisted around, cracking your back. You had been hunched forward a little too long. You felt a hand settle on your spine and it began to move. Bakugou rubbed circles against you, creating friction against your stiff joints. You hummed non-musically, letting your head fall back.

The two of you basked in the mixture of sun and shade, birdsong greeting your ears. A light breeze blew over your bare shoulders, making little goosebumps rise on your arms.

You could feel the moment Katsuki's motions became absentminded. Without warning, you took off the top flower crown and put it on his head. His face was overcome with rage, flushing a little red. The effect was completely thrown off, however, by the collection of daisies and dandelions that now rested atop his spiky hair. You were almost taken aback by how cute he looked.

Surprisingly, he made no move to rip it off his head. He just went back to pouting for the umpteenth time that day.

"Now we match!" you said, uncertain if you should say anything in case he did decide to take it off.

"I told you I wasn't going to wear one of these stupid things!"

You crossed your arms over your chest. "Oh, please. You let me put that on you. I know how fast your reflexes are, you should have seen me coming."

His silence was affirmation that your suspicion was correct.

You picked up your phone and started taking some selfies. After taking enough to be satisfied, you flipped your camera so you could see Katsuki, then pretended you were taking another picture of yourself as you took one of him. You opened it. The angle wasn't the best, and he was still scowling.

"Will you take a selfie with me?" you asked him.

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Come on, we both worked so hard. I put all my love into it just for you."

He shifted his eyes to glare at you. "Whatever."

"Just one."

"Fine."

You beamed and scooted yourself up next to him. You pressed your shoulder against his and smiled at your phone. Katsuki relaxed his face so he wasn't glowering, but he wasn't smiling either. At least he wasn't making one of his goofy ugly faces. It would have to do.

"Thanks, babe," you said, satisfied. You kissed his cheek.

"If you show that to anyone both you and that person are dead."

"Noted."

You immediately started making a mental list of all the friends you would send it to once you got home.

You looked up and saw one of the mothers from the playground walking up to the two of you with her daughter. You felt Katsuki stiffen next to you, realizing he was still wearing your floral creation.

"Hey, kids," the mother said. Her child clung to her leg, hiding behind her knee shyly. "My daughter saw you two making flower crowns and wanted to know if you could teach her how to make one."

You beamed up at the mother, then looked softly across at her daughter. "Sure! We'd love to. My name's (Y/N), what's yours?"

"Lilly," the girl said in a tiny voice.

You smiled. "That's a beautiful name. And fitting! Here, I ran out of flowers, but we can go get some more."

The four of you sat in a circle, newly supplied with flowers. You showed the mother and her daughter your technique for weaving, and they quickly caught on under your explanation. You made sure the girl had enough flowers to fit around her head, measuring it often. When it got to the right length, you turned to Bakugou.

"Katsuki?"

He had been silently watching the three of you work. "Yeah?"

"You're the one who knows how to tie them off."

He tensed his jaw but leaned forward, pointing his finger at the stems and beginning to direct the girl as to what she should do.

You watched him interact with her. He was a surprisingly good teacher, letting her do it herself while giving useful instruction. His time at U.A. really had changed him. You might even go as far as saying he would make a good father someday.

This date had turned out to be a good idea. Maybe flowers and crafts and girly shit really was his thing. To an extent.

═══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ═══════

So I was initially going to do this idea with a softer boi like Tamaki or Eijirou (and I still probably will! Recycling ideas is totally ok lol) but the idea of getting Bakugou to make flower crowns with you was just too much fun to pass up.

I really liked writing this story and I hope you enjoyed reading it just as much!

Anyway, see you next time!

Stay safe! If you don't I'll come for you!

-Sugar

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

I just want Ransom to fucking rail me in his jackets after running in from the rain. Some thots during this hurricane.

A/N- So I wrote this twice! I'm sorry this one isn't as good as the first one. Warning- mean Ransom fucking you. 

“Fucking waste of time, and now look.” Ransom snarled as he pulled up to the house, looking out the windshield and you peered out as well. The rain didn't seem to be letting up, and neither of you was in a rush to run through the downpour. 

“Linda didn't need to make us stay at Harlan’s.” He snarked out, his hands flexing on the beamers wheel till his knuckles turned white in the grip. 

“Ransom, we couldn't leave till at least the cake was brought out. You know that.” you retort, gathering your purse off the floor of the car and seeking out the keys in it. 

“What was so special about Jacob graduating from High School? Who the fuck cares, lucky that Nazi Child got that far.” Ransom spit out and gathered his phone and wallet to slip into his pockets. You glanced at him to see his face set in a disgusted sneer, his blue eyes snapping back to the window while his lips curled up in frustration. 

You rolled your eyes and leaned over, your hand slipping over his thigh and moving to palm him through his slacks. 

“Because Hugh, it was the right thing to do.” Your lips brushed against his pink cheeks, and you were quick to pull away and out the door to rush to the house. Keys already in hand while you worked the door open since he would be right behind you. You knew what calling him Hugh would do. It would officially set him off, and you wanted it. So bad your thighs clenched together while you pushed the door open. 

Just as you pushed the door open, Ransom's heavy hand grasped your upper arm and twisted you back to slam against the door, Ransom crowding in against you with caging arms so you couldn't escape. “Say it... Say it again Y/N, what did you just call me?” 

You nervously lick along your bottom lip while looking up at him, whispering it out once more. The look of stone passed over his face while his hand gripped your neck and slammed you back. “Thought so, you know I hate that name. Hugh is reserved only for the help. Are you the help Y/N? Should I start paying you for that sweet pussy of yours? I shouldn't have to, you are already my whore.” He tightened to emphasize his words, making you gasp out and he spits in your mouth, leaning his forehead against yours while your fingers curled in his expensive tan coat. 

His free hand bunched up your skirt to give him access, coating his fingers before giving a harsh thrust, making you open for him. He started to take you apart, and your head banged back against the door while you cried out “Ransom!” Feeling the pads of his fingers quickly stroke you without mercy. 

“Oh, now you know my name?” He sneered and as soon as you started to tighten and gyrate back into his palm, fluttering to reach that orgasm, he yanked it all away, making you bite out a sob at losing that end. “too bad that doesn't fix it for you, does it.” His hand, still dripping from you fists in your hair and yanks your head back. 

“No, it doesn't.” You whimper out and he drops his hand from your hair to your mouth, catching the tip of your tongue in his grasp. 

“Did I say you were allowed to say anything?” He glared at you, and your eyes pleaded with him in your gaze, his eyes boring down in yours till you finally lowered your look, and he let go, twisting you till your cheek crashed against the door and your fingers pressed against the expensive heavy wood. All to familiar hand went between you, bunching your skirt up around your waist and the unzip of his slacks released him. 

Normally you wouldn't ever let anyone treat you like this. Till Ransom breezed into your life. Then somewhere along the way, he found out that you just weren't just this sweet woman he could love on, you were also this woman he could bring to her knees and wanted to feel his wrath. His anger turned into something else, something you craved to feel. 

His back pressed against your while Ransoms hot breath hissed against your ear, his cock pressing between your slick folds after he yanked your panties to the side and pulled your ass out. His thrust sent you slamming forward, his back smothering you while grunting in your ear. “This is what you wanted, wasn't it Bitch? Get me good and made so I would slam you into the fucking wall.” Ransom didn't even give you a chance to catch the breath he punctured from your lungs. Your hands scrambled for a purchase of some kind. Curling against the wood as he kept going. 

Each thrust was demanding you give in, making you sob into that unforgiving wood while he bruised your hips banging them off the door. You didn't dare answer, not until he railed into you again, his jacket snapping and his words were grunted against your ear. “Answer me, this is what you wanted, isn't it?” You scratched at the door, feeling his teeth sink into your shoulder while he went faster. 

“Yes! Yes!- Oh- Fuck yes Ransom.” You sobbed out, muffled as he pressed claiming against you, crushing you between him and the wood. Hands grabbed your hips, jutting them out to angle, and your eyes rolled back feeling him find that spot. 

“Found it, didn’t I? I always do.” He was relentless, making you reach behind him to grasp anything to hold onto, and fisted your hand into his jacket as you tightened around him, trying to keep yourself from losing it. “Think you actually deserve to cum?” 

Your head bobbed, cheek burning from the friction of being pressed against the door, but you didn't notice. The only thing you felt was his cock splitting you open with his pounding into you. “Please, Ransom, I need to cum.” 

“What you gonna give me? I already own this pussy which is squeezing me so fucking tight.” He slowed right down, letting you fall back from your oncoming orgasm once more, and you panted as your mind raced to figure out what you could offer. 

“Anything, anything you wan Ran” you were weak and he knew it. A dark laugh-filled him as he grasped your jaw and twisted your head back further to look at him. His teeth sunk slightly into your cheek, before he grunted against you, his hips snapping you forward sharply through your squelching tight pussy. 

“Stop. Calling. Me. Fucking. Hugh.” enunciating his words, you loathed to give up such power. Maybe just this one time you can agree. Doesn't mean you necessarily have to keep your word. You yell out a yes, and he seems satisfied, cause he let you go and grabbed your hips, now with a purpose. He let his hand slide to the front and rub vigorously against your clit, sending you scrambling for release all over again. 

“Come on, you wanted to cum so fucking bad, let me have it Y/N.” You tried, flexing around his cock to milk him, your pussy swallowing him till you snapped, and he locked his arm around you to keep you upright while chasing his own rush. Your body went limp into him as he continued, soon he was jerking in you and you could feel him filling you with cum. 

He pulled out and let you sink to the floor, your forehead pressing against the door while you dragged in deep breaths, and he tucked himself back into his slacks and left you there to take off his jacket, letting it fall along the back of the couch. Ransom went to the bar, and poured a couple shots of vodka in a glass, and was returning to you where you were starting to straighten yourself up. 

You pulled off your heels, and Ransom held out his hand to help you up. As soon as you straightened he tugged you in against him while drinking his shot rather quickly and tilted his head to look down at you. “Play this game again with me Kitten, and it's not going to end like this. Do you understand me?” He reached up and grasped your cheek, pinching it enough to make you whimper. You nodded, which he let you go, and smoothed his thumb along where he harshly grasped you. 

“That's my girl.” 

Recalling his words, perhaps you weren't so keen to find out what would happen next time like you thought you were. 

[nohoney]

Do It For Me -3.1

notes: Part 3 of the Us Series from my ao3

characters: Dabi/Touya Todoroki, Keigo Takami/Hawks, Tomura Shigaraki

warnings: 18+, drug use, toxic relationships, polyamory

summary:

As curious as you are, you’ve already been warned by Keigo to not even attempt to ask about it. If Keigo got mad at you for even asking in the first place, no doubt that Touya would be furious at you. And there was no way in hell you were even going to think about investigating this on your own; not only were you not equipped to even do so in the first place, you had a strong gut feeling about this situation.

Keigo had told you before you went to sleep in his bed last night, “I know it might be frustrating for you to not be in the know dove, but trust me when I say that if Touya doesn’t want you to know something, it’s for your own good.”

3.1 ✧ 3.2 ✧ 3.3

Touya tends to keep you out of the loop on certain things, wanting to be as vague as possible sometimes if you do happen to ask. Like when you asked why he bothered attending university, he simply said that it was because his mother wanted him to and that was all that you got out of it. When you tried to probe further, he had snapped at you and left to go have a smoke. At ten months in the relationship, you’ve learned that if he didn’t want to tell you something, there was no way that you could change his mind.

Only Touya tells you what you need to know or not know.

The only thing you’re really curious about is some of his background, mostly about his family and his upbringing. As far as you’ve seen and heard, he’s the oldest of his siblings—two brothers and one sister— and he doesn’t necessarily get along too well with them from what he’s passively mentioned. He seems close with his mom, you’ve heard him talk on the phone with her sometimes, but no mention of his dad. You think it’s safe to assume that his family probably doesn’t know that he deals but you won’t dare ask him, it seems like a sensitive subject.

Speaking of dealing, you slip cash into his pocket while he cooks on the stovetop and pat his backside. Touya just chuckles and nods his head towards his jacket that’s tossed onto the couch. You reach into the inner pocket and pull out a little baggy of half gram of coke, putting it into the inner pocket inside your purse. One of your friends had asked if you could drop off cash to Touya to buy off of him and you could drop it off when you go to class next time you see her. “Yumi says thanks in advance, she says that she got her other connect’s coke the other day but that it’s just not as good as yours.”

“Heh, of course it’s not. Tell her that if she cheats again then I’m going to cut her off.” Touya jokes as he stirs the pot before lowering the gas on the stove and putting the lid on top. He rolls his shoulders briefly and walks away from the kitchen to let the food in the pot simmer for a little bit. “Keep an eye out on the food, I’m going to shower really quick.”

“Sure thing.” You make yourself comfortable on the sofa and just scroll through your social media on your phone, replying to certain messages or sharing posts to friends. Keigo texts you to as if you’re going with Touya to the next house party and that if you’re not, he’s more than happy to keep you company if you want to stay in and wait for Touya to get back. You smile down at his message and just send back a simple ‘we’ll see’ with a smiling emoji. Enough time has passed where you think you should go check on the food, just stirring it to make sure the food doesn’t burn on the bottom of the pot. As you sample your boyfriend’s cooking and add just a little bit more salt to taste, someone knocks on the door.

Touya doesn’t really get visitors aside from you and Keigo so you wonder who could be at his front door.

When you peek your head out through crack as much as the chain will allow, you see a young man dressed in a hoodie with his hands in his pockets. He seems to be as surprised as you are when you answer the door, his lips thinning into a line briefly before asking, “Is Dabi here?”

“Who’s asking?” you’re cautious because you’ve never seen this guy before. He’s got a rather distinct appearance, he seems sickly with his pale skin, messy blue hair and these scary red eyes you’ve never seen on anyone else before.

“Shigaraki.” And he says nothing more.

You have half a mind to lie and say that Touya’s not here but you hear the door to the bathroom open just in time, he walks out in fresh clothes and a towel around his neck. “What are you doing there doll?”

“Uh there’s a guy here, says his name is Shigaraki. He’s looking for you.”

Touya’s eyes narrow at the name before he walks towards you, setting you to the side and undoing the chain on the door. He lets this mysterious man in and shuts the door, the atmosphere suddenly very tense. You shift your weight from one foot to the other and look to Touya expectantly. Whoever the guest is, he only gives you a brief once over before looking to your boyfriend and says, “We need to talk, just the two of us.”

“Well that works out because my girl here was just about to head to the store.” you meet his gaze as Touya turns to look at you. “I know it’s a bitch babe, but the ingredients we want are in that fancy market that’s fifteen minutes away. It shouldn’t take you longer than ten minutes to get everything though. Make sure to stop by and get gas on the way back for the car, put down a twenty and I’ll reimburse you later.”

You’ve been with Touya long enough to know when he’s talking in code. Fifteen and ten, be gone for at least twenty-five minutes, possibly an extra twenty making it forty-five in total. So you play along and collect your sweater and purse, making sure you have everything before skedaddling out the door, no goodbye kiss unfortunately. You’re pretty much kicked out for the time being and you don’t even know why. “I guess I might as well drop off the half…”

Forty-five minutes pass but Touya hasn’t given you the okay yet to return. You think that maybe you need to wait an extra while longer so you wait outside his complex just a bit longer with your phone in your hand and anticipating his text. When it gets close to an hour since you’ve left, you decide to ask first if it’s okay that you return. Your phone pings immediately with a response.

Go stay with Keigo.

And that’s all you get, no explanation or even a time when you can see him again.

So you stay with Keigo at his place, exactly like he told you to and provides a distraction for the time being. The two of you cook together, laughing over the dinner you made as he tells you about a funny joke he heard earlier, cleaning up after yourselves when the meal is all finished, and then washing up together in his bathroom. He’s such a tease as he massages body wash all over you, pressing into a sensitive spot in your back or his fingers ghosting over your clit. He works you up to the point that you beg to be fucked, whining when you’re only given a teasing smile and just a nibble to your ear. “Please Keigo, no more teasing!”

He could be such a cheeky bastard though, ignoring your pouting but still has the audacity to touch you all over. “You know the acoustics in the bathroom always sound better, don’t you think?”

“Keigo!” you whine, your arms coming up and looping just right behind his neck. His cock is getting hard, you can feel it against your leg, so you don’t know why he’s not bothering to just take you right then and there. “You’re being a dick!”

“You know why acoustics are better in the bathroom (Name)?” he asks as his hands skim over your back and ignores your whines. “I’m asking you a question.”

“How am I suppose to know?”

Keigo chuckles at you and pushes you to lean against the back wall of the shower. He takes your wrists and holds them together in one hand, pushing them above your head so that your entirely exposed to him. He grabs his cock in his free hand and teases the head of it against your click, relishing your yelp when he slaps it against your sensitive pearl. “Just a little fun fact for you, acoustics in the shower sound better because you’re surrounded by hard, smooth surfaces that bounce back to you. So while the sounds are bouncing around, your voice sounds more pronounced, it takes longer to reach your ears and sounds more enriched. Isn’t that so interesting?”

You whine petulantly at him, asking why he’s telling you this in the first place.

“I guess what I’m saying is songbird,” Keigo releases your hands and quickly turns you around to make you brace against the wall, jutting your ass out towards him with his hands set firmly on your hips. “sing me a pretty song, yeah?”

Your voice echoes as Keigo rails you on his cock and your wet skin slapping against each other sounding particularly lewd. The shower is still running with warm water and steam clouds the bathroom but you feel even warmer as you push back to meet Keigo’s thrusts. One of his hands slide up your spine, warm fingers reaching up to tangle in your hair and pull your head back. You’re choked up, voice strangling to come out with your head angled back and your fingers trying to find purchase on something to hold onto.

He’s merciless, he won’t let you catch a break. Keigo pulls you back against him, one arm around your waist to hold you close and the other at your throat. There are heavy breaths in your ear, low growls and a rough command of, “Touch yourself.” Your fingers messily rub your clit, not using any kind of technique because honestly Keigo is fucking your brains out so you are acting on instinct. Breathless whimpers fall out of your lips, barely registering when you feel soft kisses against your temple.

“Fucking cum with me songbird, hit that last note for me huh?” Keigo growls into your ear, just about ready to cum. It’s more than just your cunt that’s getting him off, he loves to hear your voice as he makes a mess of you. He just wants to listen to your voice, it appeals more to his senses during sex more than anything else. Touya gets nudes from you, Keigo gets audio recordings of you moaning. “Say you wanna cum with me, say it.”

“Wanna cum with Kei… pleas’ make me cum…” you slur, your brain fucked out and just letting yourself be used. “Kei, les’ cum together…”

Your bent over as Keigo fucks harshly into your body, lewd praises echoing inside the bathroom as you beautiful cries rip from your throat. You have one hand braced on the wall of the shower and the other on the floor, just holding on for dear life and only able to moan and cry out his name. You’re thankful for him, thankful for his kindness, his patience, and his cock. Your orgasm hits you hard to the point that you see stars in your vision, unable to hold yourself up and dropping your weight. Luckily Keigo’s got you, happy to hold you like the little fucked out rag doll you are as he finished inside you.

The shower still runs and steam still curls in the air as the two of you catch your breath. He’s still hard inside you, thrusting just a few more times to overstimulate himself a little before pulling out. Any cum that leaks out of your pussy is washed away, you want to clench to hold as much inside you as you can.

Keigo towels you off first before drying himself, lending you one of his shirts to wear and tells you to wait on his bed like a good girl.

So you wait like the good girl you are, staring at your phone and waiting to hear back from Touya.

I miss him. You think to yourself and wonder what Touya could possibly be doing. It’s late in the evening now and he hasn’t given you an update about where he is and what he’s doing. A part of you is tempted to just go back to his apartment and wait for him there but you have a feeling that he sent you to Keigo to make you stay put. He trusts Keigo more than anyone else to look after you, to keep you warm and loved when he’s away.

A movie plays on Keigo’s laptop as the two of you are curled on the bed, him being the big spoon and an arm loosely draped over your waist. You sink your cheek into the soft pillow and idly reach a hand up to touch Keigo, giggling a little when the tips of your fingers brush against his chin stubble. He kisses your hand and sets it back in place against your chest, snuggling behind you to continue watching the movie.

A question rings through your mind and you wonder if he can answer it.

“Baby bird?” Keigo looks to you when you reach out and pause the movie. “Did you need a pee break?”

You adjust your position so that you can look up at him. “Who’s Shigaraki?”

His face doesn’t betray anything, keeping it straight and just looking down at you. “How do you know that name?”

“He came by Touya’s place while I was there, he said he had something to talk about with him and then I got sent out.”

Touya must have let Keigo know something, seeing as when you arrived he already had things ready in his apartment for you by the time you arrived. Keigo brushes his thumb idly against your cheek, slowly running the pad of it back and forth on your cheekbone rather lovingly even though his face doesn’t reflect his action. “If Touya’s never mentioned Shigaraki to you after all this time then that means he doesn’t want you to know about him. He has his reasons, alright dove?”

“So you know about Shigaraki?” you ask with a curious tilt to your head. With a confirming nod you can’t help but ask still who exactly he is. “Touya never lets anyone in at his place but that Shigaraki guy was let in, but he called him Dabi so he’s not close to him like that. He looked kinda young, I’ve never seen a guy like him around campus.”

“I’m not telling you anything dove, just let it go.” There’s a hint of a warning behind his tone but you don’t heed it, talking more and asking why you can’t know. “(Name), I’m putting my foot down. Do not ask me or Touya about Shigaraki. Now drop it, do not bring this up again or you’re going to piss me off.”

Keigo’s never spoken to you in that manner so it catches you off guard. He usually speaks with such a casual lilt and is very easy going about anything and everything. It’s something of a shock to you that you almost can’t comprehend it, looking down like a scolded child and mumbling out a quiet ‘okay’. He feels bad instantly having to have to talk to you that way but he had to convey just how much you could not breach this subject. He leans down to kiss your forehead, muttering apologies and bringing you into his arms to hold you tight. “Don’t ask Touya okay, he’ll get upset if you do. C’mon, let’s keep watching the movie.”

Touya contacts you the next morning to ask if you’re still with Keigo, to which you answer yes and ask where he is. He doesn’t give a proper answer and simply tells you that he’ll return early tomorrow morning. “Touya, I didn’t even get to kiss you goodbye yesterday if I had known that you were just going to disappear on me.”

“I’ll kiss you tomorrow when I see you princess, alright? Be good for me.”

He hangs up and you just stare at the lockscreen of your phone for a few seconds before sighing and setting down your phone. Touya wasn’t one for lying, he always told the truth if not at least keep quiet about what he didn't want to talk about, but it was rare when you could get him to admit something he doesn’t want you to know. Sure it’s fine to not have to know everything about your partner but this felt… weird. Somehow it feels worse than the three other girls he still fucks every once in a while when he goes out. The whores he was honest and upfront about, whatever is going on with this Shigaraki is entirely different business.

As curious as you are, you’ve already been warned by Keigo to not even attempt to ask about it. If Keigo got mad at you for even asking in the first place, no doubt that Touya would be furious at you. And there was no way in hell you were even going to think about investigating this on your own; not only were you not equipped to even do so in the first place, you had a strong gut feeling about this situation.

Keigo had told you before you went to sleep in his bed last night, “I know it might be frustrating for you to not be in the know dove, but trust me when I say that if Touya doesn’t want you to know something, it’s for your own good.”

You believed Keigo but it didn’t really provide any comfort to you.

‘I miss you, come back soon’ You text him, it feels stupid seeing as you saw him yesterday but you hadn’t anticipated that you wouldn’t be returning to his apartment when he sent you out. Though to be fair, he probably didn’t expect it either. If there was one thing that had been made apparent while analyzing your boyfriend was his need to know about your whereabouts no matter what and ease his anxiety about who would be around you when you went out without him. Maybe that’s just how he loves you, just unrefined and not quite polished just yet.

Your phone pings a several hours later from Touya. ‘Miss you.’

━━━━✧

All you can do is just wait and sit pretty for him when he gets back.

Keigo drops you off at Touya’s the next day, parting with a lingering kiss before going on his merry way.

When you enter the apartment, you see Touya resting on the sofa along with a small rectangular sized bag on the coffee table. You're curious if it's Touya's, never seeing this kind of bag before and undo the clips and the zipper of the bag and curiously lift the top, an assortment of drugs siting inside. One of the few first you recognize is Adderall, ecstasy, cocaine, and shrooms. The pills are separated in those orange prescription bottles and the rest are in little plastic baggies. You’ve never been around whenever Touya gets a refresh of his inventory, always making you wait a day or two before he allows you back into his place. Wherever he hides it in his apartment, you’ve never once stumbled on it. Yet here it is, just out in the open and you just had to be curious and look inside. You close up the bag and fasten the clips on it before sitting on the edge of the sofa, careful to not disturb Touya.

You wonder if that Shigaraki guy is his supplier, if not at least connected to his supplier.

“If it isn’t my pretty doll…”

You jump at the sound of Touya’s voice, quickly looking behind you and catching his sleepy gaze and a lazy smile. He’s been sleepy around you plenty of times and you know what he’s like when he’s high, but there’s something different about his expression and movements this time that unsettles you. The only thing that comes to mind is that he might have tried something new and that scares you. “Baby? Are you on something?”

Touya gives you a slow nod in answer, his hand reaching out and weakly grabbing your bicep. He gives a light tug and makes you lean over towards him, soft coos of ‘my baby’, ‘pretty doll’ and ‘princess’ pass through his lips. When you ask what he’s on, he just slowly shakes his head and laughs lowly. “Can’t tell you baby, it’s not for you… Shit like this isn’t for my good girl.”

“Oh but it’s okay for you?” you ask with mild irritation. You take his hand and press your cheek into his palm, delicately holding his wrist and looking down at him with crinkled brows. “Well whatever you’re on, do I have to get the Narcan?”

“My smart doll looking out for me… you remember where it is?”

“Oh my god, Touya please don’t tell me that I actually have to be on the lookout for you in case you overdose. I don’t think that’s something I can handle.” You’re anxious now as you go into his bedroom and retrieve the Narcan from his bedside table, keeping it on hand when you go back to sit on the couch with him. Touya’s tolerance for narcotics is pretty high but on some level you still fear that something might happen. “Do I have to call Keigo?”

He answers with a lazy shake of his head, his hand idly rubbing your thigh as you look down worriedly at him. Glancing over to the case and then at you, he asks, “You look inside it?”

You’re not a bad liar by any means but Touya is a master of smelling bullshit, so there’s no point in trying to lie to lie to him in the first place even if he is high at the moment. “Yeah…”

“Anything in there you want to try?” His fingers drum against the denim jeans you wear before lifting to play with the belt loop. “If you want to try anything new, what’s the rule doll?”

“Never from someone else, only from you.”

As if you needed a reminder.

That rule was established shortly after deciding to sleep with Keigo. You were invited to a kickback with a small group of your friends who also brought some of their friends, you were all just sitting around the kitchen island and drinking, at least that’s what you thought that was all you were going to do. You got a little drunk that night and one of your girlfriends presented a sugar cube to you held carefully in between her thumb and forefinger. You didn’t think anything of it in your drunken state of mind, you were complaining earlier that night that you wanted something sweet so you thought she was just satisfying your sugar craving. After about half an hour, your vision began to distort, different colors suddenly washing over the crowd of people you were hanging out with and you asked what was happening.

It turned out that the sugar cube you ate was laced with LSD.

Your friends had tried to calm you down, telling you that you’ll ruin your come up but it was too late. “You gave me acid! I’m not ready to try acid, you should have told me!” The timeline of that night was fuzzy and you can’t remember if it was you or someone else who called Touya and Keigo, but needless to say they were angry upon arrival when they found you distraught in a corner inside the house. Even during your bad trip, you could taste Touya’s fury when he tried to find out who had given you LSD without telling you while Keigo was trying to soothe you. You were promptly taken away from the party and the boys watched over you for the remainder of your trip, staying up with you with the help of four grams of coke to help keep them alert for a little over twelve hours while keeping you quarantined inside Touya’s place.

Touya had declared not too long after that you were not allowed to take any kind of narcotic from anyone else but him from now on. When you asked the boys what had happened at the party when they showed up, both of them remained silent. The ones from the kickback who were trip sitting, they refused to answer your questions to fill in the blank of what happened that night. You suspect that Touya might have threatened them into silence but there was no definitive proof, you don’t want to recall the memory because all you remember was the anxiety, the strange distortions of shapes your mind could never produce while sober, and at one point telling Touya that you could ‘hear how hungry his couch was’.

Keigo tells you that they should have micro dosed you instead by dissolving the sugar cube into a glass of water and just had you take a sip because that’s how he had it his first time. Touya just straight up does not like it at all, he hated his first and only trip on acid. Either way you would not be ready to try it again at all anytime soon.

Never once have you had to watch over Touya while he’s high, he’s usually the one doing the watching seeing as he had a better handle on his tolerance versus you who’s experience was just a step up from novice. But you keep a careful eye on him as he drifts back to sleep, keeping a glass of water and the Narcan nearby, running your hand through his hair. The roots are growing out, white contrasting with the black hair dye you’re used to helping him do. Touya’s been talking recently about washing out the black for a while just to give himself a break. You’ve seen a few photos of Touya with his natural hair color, courtesy of Keigo, and he’s just as handsome no matter what.

You stare at him while he sleeps, a pillow propped up behind his head and his hands resting on his stomach. He still hasn’t kissed you like he promised he would yesterday on the phone, so you lean down to fulfill it for him. No response, like you expected, but at least you got to do it.

He’s sober a few hours later, though still just a bit sluggish from whatever it was he took and the bag is put away in the room but you don’t know where. Whatever food was made the day before yesterday, you see it in a container inside the fridge and the pot still sitting in the dish wrack. At least whatever dinner you were supposed to have together the other day wasn’t put to waste and Touya went through the trouble of making sure you could have it later on. So you warm up a portion of it in a small pot and just stir, barely moving as Touya comes up and hugs you from behind. His arms come around your waist and presses right up against you. “You’re not going to ask?”

“Ask about what?” you continue to stir the food in the little pot.

“About what happened the other day?” Touya brings his hands to cup just underneath your breasts and slightly sways in place, your body following along with his movements. “Not curious at all?”

You shrug your shoulders, thinking of what Keigo said the other day and his usual approach to things in life. You channel him inside you and just act cool, casual, and whatever about it. “I figured you would have explained yourself by now if you wanted me to know. You’re usually so straight forward about everything.”

Touya makes you tilt your head up to look at him with a slight nod of approval. “Good girl.”

God the way your heart flutters when he gives you praise over the simplest things… even over something suspicious like this.

You do feel the need to ask, “Is that person someone I’ll be seeing more of?”

“If things were one hundred percent in my control then you would have never caught a glimpse of him in the first place. But to answer your question, you shouldn’t be, he doesn’t ever drop in like that. He wasn’t interested in you when he came by thankfully.”

You should know better than to ask because you’ll know it’ll make Touya seethe but you do anyway, “Well what would you have done if he looked at me a certain way? Set him on fire?”

“To finish him off after a slow torture, yeah.” Touya spits through gritted teeth and reaches over you to turn off the gas to the stovetop. “The shit I’d do to some guys for fucking staring too long at you…”

You could relate, you’ve had some vivid fantasies sometimes about the side whores and just straight up eliminating them in the most violent way possible. Not just stupid hair pulling or petty name calling, you imagined inflicting blunt trauma in certain fatal areas or having them tied up in the middle of the road while you sat in the driver’s seat of Touya’s car, revving the engine and just speed down to get to them as soon as possible.

Touya probably had more imagination for what he’d do to anyone he thought was a threat but you’re not going to open that door. So you turn around in his arms and rest one hand at the nape of his neck, your fingers massaging gently and you assure him, “Hey relax, I’m yours Touya.”

“Yeah… you’re mine.” Touya sighs in what seems like relief as he leans down to hug you. “You’re my doll, no one else’s.”

You won’t bring up Keigo and the fact that you’re being shared with him, it feels like Touya needs the reassurance right now that it really is just the two of you. In these moments you realize that his insecurities are thinly unveiled, not quite put out there but just peeking out the corner and hoping to not be noticed. So you say it again and he tells you how much he likes when you say his name, that when it falls out of your pretty lips that he can’t help but want you to scream it until your voice is raw and hoarse. “Only you can call me that doll, it’s all yours.”

Not Dabi, haven’t used that name in months.

“Touya, Touya…” you whisper in between breathless kisses, gasping as you’re pulled away from the kitchen to the bedroom. Guess that food will go cold once again…

Touya’s body isn’t in top condition yet to have sex but he pulls off your bottoms when he pushes you to lie back on the bed. There have been night’s a plenty where either you serviced Touya strictly and vice versa for you, though most of the time you just loved to fuck. Fuck when you’re happy, upset, a little drunk, or bored and all that; there’s nothing like feeling close to Touya when he’s inside of you. He’s unlike any other partner you’ve had before, no one is as hypnotizing as him, you’ve never been drawn in to anyone else like Touya before.

And he’s as entranced by you, if not more.

Kisses pressed into the inside of your thighs along with playful nips and teasing licks on your sensitive skin. He knows exactly where to touch you where you’ll practically beg for him and the right words to use to make you desperate because Touya’s not afraid to hold out on you if he wants to. He likes to see you frustrated and worked up, if he wants to pull out to edge you for the rest of the night, he’ll do so and ignore your pretty cries and desperate pleas that you’ll do anything for him as long as you can cum on his cock. Most of the time he gives in because, well, he loves your pussy and he loves fucking you. But fuck when Touya decides to be sadistic, the role always suits him quite well.

Not tonight though, no delicious sadistic edging or degradation. Touya knows that he made you worry the day before so he wants to make it up to you in best way he knows how to. He wishes that he could use his dick properly right now to fuck you but his body is still trying to process the shit he took earlier so it’ll just have to be his mouth and hands for the moment to get you off.

It’s not hard to get you to cum, there have been instances where as soon as his dick sheathes into your pussy you gush on the spot. There are days like that where it’s just that easy and other days where you need it angled just the right way inside you or the right words to fire off your imagination. “Fucking love it when you squirm like this, so goddamn cute.” Touya growls as he drags the pads of his fingers against your G-spot before flicking his tongue on your clit.

Those words help but it’s not quite what will set you off.

“Say more.”

So he does, finding the right combination of words, adjectives, proper nouns, and verbs to stimulate your mind while stimulating your pussy. It’s vivid and a pretty picture, more than just a pretty picture because he describes actual memories of the steamiest and sordid encounters. The first time you fucked on the fourth floor of the library way in the very back, the day you skipped your afternoon lectures to day drink at a brewery and just made out in his car, skinny dipping at night at the local pool, and one time you sucked his cock while he was on the headset and playing games online with Keigo.

You’re just about there, heavy breaths and panting exiting from your body as your toes curl and your fingers twist the sheets in your hand.

Touya could say more about how much he loves to fuck you seven ways to Sunday, all the kinks he still hasn’t tried with you yet and is excited to try when you’re ready, that he wants you to cum all over his fucking face and lick your sensitive cunt until you can’t take it anymore. You’ve heard it before, some more than others, but it’s not those words that make you come undone before him tonight. It’s not the images of past passionate encounters and the anticipation of getting fucked by Touya that do make you cum all over his face like he wanted.

He spouts that shit frequently but tonight he says something different, something that in the back of your mind that you were probably aware of but he never voiced out loud. When the words leave his mouth and are spoken out to you, it’s a new type of intimacy and sentiment that elevates you and makes you realize how deep you’re in this with him, how deep he is in you… emotionally.

“I’d do fucking anything for you.”

Bullet one.

You choke up, it’s not that you want to cry because how moving those words were but because the revolver is loaded and he just fired the first bullet in the chamber that will undoubtedly lead you to an intense orgasm.

“Never had this with anyone else.”

Bullet two.

“I don’t want this with anyone else, believe me.”

Bullet three.

“I don’t fucking deserve you but I’ll do what it takes to keep you with me.”

Bullet four.

“It’s scares me doll but I…”

Bullet five… will he say it?

“I’d do it all for you.”

Bullet six.

The chamber is empty and the barrel of the gun wisps smoke, your back is arched as your whole body convulses with an earth shattering orgasm that you’re literally left shaking from how powerful it was. And Touya continues to speak those words from bullet one, “I’d do fucking anything for you.”

And he is, Keigo unveiled that, the whores are dwindling not by your request but by Touya’s conscious choice. He’s choosing you, slowly but surely, there will only be you if the cards are dealt right. No one has been in his bed the way you’re invited in, hasn’t held anyone else the way he does with you, and more than likely has not been this vulnerable with someone else either. He’s terrible at feelings, still gets his dick wet sometimes when he sells to his side whores, and he withholds certain secrets to keep you safe.

Should I say it?

You thought he’d say it, those deeper feelings that Keigo had accidentally unveiled, you thought he’d say ‘I love you’ tonight but this is a step closer to it. You won’t make him say it, you won’t beg for it, you’ll sit pretty and patient because Touya will come around. He may have his secrets but he releases the ones to you that are worth knowing, and you’ll get it so long as you’re good for him.

Don’t ask about the whores, it’s okay be jealous but don’t ask, don’t get into another argument. Don’t ask about where the drugs are from and if that Shigaraki guy is linked to it, he would have told you by now if he wanted you to know. Don’t ask to see another man because him and Keigo should be enough, they won’t treat you as good the way they are with you. Do whatever Touya wants of you and he’ll do it all for you in return.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Omertà👄4

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (sexual intercourse); tags to be added throughout series

This is dark!Bucky and dark! Loki and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father was a bookie and taught you everything you know about numbers. After his death, you were taken on as a bookkeeper for Loki Laufeyson, resident crime boss in Manhattan. But can you keep your place in the background when a man from Brooklyn threatens to drag you to the forefront?

Note: You guys are awesome. Just thought you should know! Thanks for reading and following along. :D I am always so thankful for everything y’all do.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Aside from the colour, you were not a fan of the dress. The black number was little much for you; the long sleeves couldn’t make up for the length of the skirt or the strappy back. You were still unaccustomed to your new wardrobe and you doubted you ever would be. When you arrived that morning at The Attic, you’d felt like an idiot. 

After noon, you excused yourself if only to escape Loki for an hour. He hadn’t failed to remind you of the day’s meeting. Over a week and a half since the last. Just as long spent in dread. It was bad enough facing Loki each day but another to know you’d be book-ended between him and Bucky.

You went to a restaurant not far from the shop. You passed it now and then but never thought of stepping inside the ultra sleek bar. You did that day; a reluctant retreat. You sat by the window and ordered an organic juice and a salad. 

You rarely ate anything more than microwaves dinners and non-perishables. You often found yourself forgetting to stop and eat when you were at work and you gave little thought to what awaited you after.

You poked at the baby spinach and glanced out the window. The strawberry juice was a little too sweet and made your jaw twitch. You looked back to your bowl as you tried to hide your recognition. The man across the street; you’d seen him before.

It would be easy enough to shrug off his brief glance as coincidence as he walked casually along the pavement, but you hadn’t missed him as you emerged from The Attic. Or a few days back on your way home. His golden hair shone above his chiseled jaw and his bright eyes made him a beacon on the streets. He was following you and he wasn’t even trying to be subtle.

You left the last few leaves in the bottom of the bowl to drown in dressing. You took your last sip from the glass and folded the bills in the little leather folder. You stood and nodded at your waitress on your way out. The blond man was gone. For now.

You returned to the shop and slipped into the office. Loki wasn’t there and you were thankful. You sat and pulled out your phone. You pulled down the skirt which had a tendency to slip to your thigh. 

As you wiggled in your chair, the door opened and Loki appeared. He didn’t miss the little shimmy and smiled as he neared your desk. His eyes sparkled at you as his fingers rubbed along the edge of the wood.

“We should go soon.” He said. “But we should talk first.”

“Right,” You kept your phone propped up but spared him a brief peek.

“First, listen,” He reached over and tapped your phone. “Important. I tell you to do something, you do it. No back talk. It would be as bad for you as for me should you choose to undermine me in the presence of those men.”

You nodded and lowered your phone. You looked at him and squished your lips together.

“Play along. I know you’re not stupid so I know you can play your part well.” He grinned. “This man is simple; even you can rile him.”

You shook your head and swayed your leg as you crossed your arms.

“Is that all?” You asked.

“I shouldn’t have to remind you of what this world means; of the consequences of such repugnance.” He frowned. “Remember your father, perhaps that will keep you in line.”

“Perhaps,” You sneered.

“Well,” He drew away. “I’d rather this over with. I am not a fan of these places. Sad, really.”

You stood and tucked your phone in your purse. You slung it on your shoulder and sighed.

“Well, at least we can agree on expedience,” You said.

👄

The She-Wolf looked grim in the daylight. The neon sign flashed although the flicker was hard to notice so early. You followed Loki to the doors but he swiftly sidestepped a patron stumbling out. You watched the man, already drunk, as he wobbled away. 

You swallowed your discomfort and entered as Loki opened the door for you, the bouncers eyed both of you. He was greeted by a woman in a crop top and booty shorts. He looked at her as if she were a leper.

“Laufeyson for Barnes,” He announced. “Is there a man who I should--”

“Over here,” She interrupted him and his brows drew together. “Just by Tiffani.”

Loki hesitated but followed, his arm curled around you as he swept you along with him. There were only two stages in use and the bar was almost empty. Still the music buzzed and the dark room was swathed with coloured arcs of light. You sat along the half-moon stage as the woman offered you drinks. 

Loki sniffed as he peered around and refused. You thanked her but forewent the offer as well. Loki sat back and draped his arm behind you. He looked over at you and you didn’t miss his gaze as his hand flitted down to your dress. His hand snaked over and he caressed your leg just beneath the hem.

“Well…” He kept his voice low. “I am pleasantly surprised.”

“Stop,” You grabbed his hand.

“Stop? Ah, you know, I never expected to share tastes with Barnes but I might see a little of what he does.” He purred. “This might be more fun than I expected.”

“Loki,” You hissed as he flipped his hand and twisted yours back. “Enough.”

“We should’ve taken our time back at the office.” He slithered.

“I mean it.” You wrestled with him. “It’s not funny.”

“I am not joking, darling,” He rolled his R coyly. “And seeing as…” His eyes went to the woman spinning up on the pole. “He has such low standards… you’ve made this pleasantly easy.”

He shook you away and pushed his hand between your knees. He gripped your leg as he took a breath. He cleared his throat and rescinded his touch as he stood. Bucky appeared from a doorway along the back of the club and you rose too. He was flanked by two other men and they followed him to the stage as he smirked at you. He barely acknowledged Loki as he offered you his hand.

“Sweetheart,” He looked you up and down. “Mmm, you look wonderful.”

You thanked him softly and stiffened as you shook his hand.

“Loki,” He released you and extended his hand to the other man. “Early. As always.”

“We take our time seriously in Manhattan,” Loki gripped Bucky’s hand firmly. “It is, as they say, money.”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky withdrew and sat. His men stayed behind him, like statues. 

Bucky leaned his elbow on the table that lined the stage and gazed up at the now topless Tiffani as she hung upside down from the pole. He smirked and his eyes slowly fell to you.

“So, you thirsty?” He asked.

“It’s early,” Loki answered for you.

“Not that early,” Bucky insisted as he raised his hand. “What do you like? You seem like a scotch man.” 

His eyes never left you as the woman who greeted you returned. 

“Or whiskey,” Loki replied, annoyed that he was all but being ignored.

“And the lady?” He wondered. “Champagne?”

“That’s a bit much,” You sat straight. 

“Rose? Chardonnay?” He continued. “I have a rather extensive cellar. I could let you have a look if you wish.”

“We didn’t come here to peruse your wine collection,” Loki intoned.

“No,” Bucky slapped his hand on the table. “You came here to give me my money and to accept my hospitality. It would be rude to bite the hand, wouldn’t it?”

Loki’s jaw jutted out in anger and he nodded, a snarl slowly left his nostrils.

“Gin,” You said sternly. “Gin is fine.”

“Gin,” Bucky repeated as his expression softened and he turned to the waitress. “Scotch for my friend,” He waved to Loki, “And two gins. Top shelf.”

“Yes, sir,” She recited and her smile betrayed her attraction for the man. Bucky, despite his person, could not be called hideous.

“You know,” Bucky turned to Loki, his eyes strayed to you for a moment, “I was thinking of this new arrangement and while I appreciate that your men are working so hard, I would prefer a few of mine help out.”

“Help out?” Loki squinted.

“Allies, you said.” Bucky leaned back and pulled his thin lapels straight. “So we should work together. If I sent a few of my hands down to our warehouses, they wouldn’t be hassled, would they? Especially not if they were helping with our business.”

Loki swallowed. It was one thing to split up the take, but another to allow others onto territory he still felt was rightfully his. The compromise was temporary in his mind; a means to an end. A patient plot.

“Surely not,” Loki forced out. “I would make sure of it.”

“Very good,” Bucky smiled as he watched the waitress set down the drinks. “I will send them down tomorrow then.”

“I’ll make sure mine are aware,” Loki inhaled deeply and took his scotch. His other hand wandered over your thigh and he rested it there as he sipped. 

You grabbed your drink and swigged down a bitter mouthful before you could chide him. Bucky didn’t miss the movement and his eyes followed Loki’s arm to his hand. Loki’s long fingers squeezed and you winced. Bucky took a drink as he looked you over.

“I’ll take my money now,” He gritted out. “Drinks are on me though.”

Loki set down his glass and dragged his hand from your leg. He shifted your skirt as he did, enough to expose your upper thigh. You fixed it and Bucky hummed. You looked up as he shifted in his chair. He was focused on your lap and you pushed your legs together tightly.

Loki reached into his jacket and pulled out the bundle. He planted it on the table before Bucky who quickly took it and began to count. When he finished, he smacked the stack on his palm and then handed it over to one of his men.

“You like her?” Bucky pointed to Tiffani and Loki frowned. “The night shift is better. The girls are… skilled.”

“I’ve never been one for dancers. Or escorts.” Loki sneered.

“My girls are clean and I’d not call them escorts, they’re good company. Especially for men like us.”

“Men like us?” Loki huffed. “I don’t pay for my company.”

“So you must be lonely,” Bucky countered.

A tense silence followed as they stared each other down. Loki chuckled and finished his drink.

“Not that lonely,” He stretched his arm behind you. 

Bucky scratched his chin and nodded.

“It’s not always money you pay with,” Bucky mused. “Is it?”

“I have been told I am charming,” Loki’s fingers tickled your shoulder. “I’ve never wanted for much.”

“Is it charm or hot air?” Bucky challenged. “You talk a lot.”

“I won’t deny that,” Loki smirked. “But you know, a sharp tongue is truly a gift. Isn’t it, darling?”

Both men looked at you. You tapped your fingernail on your glass and chewed on your irritation.

“Truly,” You answered rigidly. “It must be.”

You lifted your glass and drank. Bucky watched you intently. Loki stared at him until he looked away and their gaze met. There was a moment of understanding; an unspoken challenge. You felt as if you were suffocating in your dress. You wanted another drink desperately.

👄

You left shortly after the pissing contest. You were glad to be away and didn’t stick around much longer at the antique shop. Loki was agitated and barely noticed when you left. Despite his well-honed veneer, he hadn’t been able to withhold his chagrin once free of the strip club.

The next day, you sensed little difference. He was silent, grumbly. He sat behind his desk and made the occasional call. He was impatient and bossy. He had Bucky’s men in his warehouses and he was talking his own down from igniting another war. Each call ended with a scribbled list of numbers for you to add to your ledger.

Your work was disturbed in the late afternoon. You heard Lopez in the showroom, his voice panicked as he neared the other side of the door. There was no knock as the squat man’s voice was left unmatched. The door opened as Loki reached under his jacket. He gripped his gun and watched the man who entered.

“No need for that,” The blonde man said coolly. He held a box and smiled as he looked around the room. “Just got a delivery.”

Loki scowled and reluctantly lowered his hand. “Delivery? Did Barnes forget something?”

The blonde’s jaw squared as he turned to you. He placed the box atop your open ledger. 

“Boss sends his regards,” He smirked. You said nothing as he nodded and glanced at Loki one last time. “To both of you.”

As quickly as he’d come, he was gone. You watched him go and frowned as Loki bid Lopez shut the door. You were silent as you shook your head at the box.

“Who was--”

“Rogers.” Loki snorted. “Barnes’ little lap dog.”

You were quiet. You wouldn’t let on that Barnes’ man had been tailing you. You didn’t think that would help with either of them. Or you.

“Well, open it.” He demanded.

You glanced at him and he lifted a brow. His eyes pierced you as you slid the box closer and let out a long breath. You rubbed your thumbs over the cardboard and carefully shook the lid free. The box fell to the desk and you set aside the top. You brushed aside the tissue paper and gaped at the swath of sparkling diamonds.

Loki sighed and tapped his fingers as he leaned forward.

“Do go on,” He said dryly.

You cringed and reached into the box. You hooked your fingers under the diamonds and lifted the glittering pair of panties. Your eyes met Loki’s over the top and his face paled with anger. Fuck.

[ryqoshay]

Happy Life: Fallen Angel vs. Little Demon

Primary Pairing: YohaRiko Words: ~3.4k Rating: G AU: Angelic? Time Frame: Between Riko’s 2nd and 3rd year and Yohane’s 1st and 2nd year of high school Story Arc: Stand Alone

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Author’s Note: Inspired by a somewhat recent SIFAS Daily Theater translation. I will link to said translation in the follow up post.

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A knock sounded at the door.

Riko quickly shoved the doujin she had been reading under her pillow. “Yes?” She responded, grabbing some sheet music from nearby on her bed.

“Riko, dear.” Mrs. Sakurauchi said, as she opened the door. “Your friend, Yohane-chan, was it?”

“Yoshiko-chan?”

“I believe she left this.”

Riko recognized the device in her mother’s hand as Yoshiko’s phone and sighed. “Yes, that’s hers.”

“I tried calling her mother already, but it seems she was called in to work and is unable to get ahold of her daughter to tell her.”

“I see…”

“So, I was hoping you could bring it to her?”

“Me?”

“I’m not sure how else to get it to her, or even tell her that it’s here.”

Riko sighed. Perhaps some of the fallen angel’s luck rubbed off on her. It was probably bound to happen at some point or another, what with the two of them spending more time together as of late.

“Alright.” Riko agreed, sliding off her bed.

As she made her way down the stairs to the front entryway, Riko considered the events leading up to her needing to deliver the forgotten item. Yesterday, she had noticed Yoshiko a bit out of sorts, even for the purported fallen angel. In an effort to cheer up her friend, Riko had offered to have her come over to visit Prelude. Thankfully, the tactic had worked well. Yoshiko had perked up immediately and had been quite enthusiastic in her time with the young dog.

The three went for a walk before returning to Riko’s home for a warm meal prepared by her mother. From there, the two girls watched a movie together, while Prelude spent the entire show curled up in Yoshiko’s lap.

At some point, Riko had noticed the time and wondered aloud if Yoshiko would be able to make the last bus back to Numazu. Yoshiko was confused by the question and had to check the schedule. Riko had wondered if the younger girl had bothered to check the schedule earlier. To Yoshiko’s dismay, she had already missed her bus. Thus, Riko had ended up offering to let her stay for the night and pulled out the guest futon.

After another movie, the two turned in for the night. Riko had noted, with a bit of jealousy, that Prelude chose to sleep on Yoshiko’s futon instead of Riko’s bed or her own dog bed. In the morning they went for another walk and enjoyed a quick breakfast before Yoshiko headed back home. Unfortunately, without her phone, it would seem.

At least it was early enough in the day that Riko wouldn’t have the same problem returning home as Yoshiko did yesterday, she thought as she took a seat in the bus.

----------

“Ah, Riko-chan.” A voice called from behind her.

Riko startled and spun. “Oh, uhm… M-Mrs. Tsushima.” She said upon recognizing the blue-haired woman. “I thought… My mother said you were at work?”

Yoshiko’s mother paused for a moment. “Oh dear, I believe there must have been a miscommunication. I said I was on my way home from work. It was just a minor emergency that I was able to address quickly before returning.”

“Oh, well… I came to bring Yoshiko-chan’s phone.”

“Yes, I figured as such. That was very kind of you. My daughter should be grateful to have such good friends. Elsewise she would have had to retrieve her lost belongings on her own.”

“She’s helped me in many ways as well.” Riko said, remembering the events leading to her getting past her fear of dogs.

Mrs. Tsushima smiled. “Well as thanks for today, why don’t I make something for lunch, if you don’t mind eating a little early, or later, if you intend to stay for a little while.”

“I can stay for a little while.” Riko said. “I don’t have any other plans until later this afternoon.”

Mrs. Tsushima nodded and let them into the complex. Inside, they took the elevator up several floors and walked down the hall to the Tsushima apartment.

“My daughter is likes to stream when she is home on the weekend.” Mrs. Tsushima explained as they removed their shoes in the entry. “So she’s probably in her room.”

“Thank you.” Riko nodded and headed toward her friend’s room. Streaming? She thought to herself. Perhaps she shouldn’t stay until lunch. She was about to interrupt Yoshiko’s session and wanted to keep the interference to a minimum if possible.

Upon arriving, she knocked on the door. No response. She knocked again.

“Yeah, Mama, c’mon in.” a voice called from within.

“Uhm, actually, it’s…” Riko started as she opened the door.

“Wha?!” Yoshiko startled from her seat at her desk. “Riri?!” She dropped the controller she had been holding. In her attempts to catch it, she fumbled, causing it ricochet off the edge of the desk and hit her in the face as she leaned forward. “Kyaa!” She cried, recoiling in such a way that her chair spun, and she slid off onto the floor. “Ughn….” She groaned.

“Yoshiko-chan!” Riko rushed forward and knelt beside the younger girl. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m…” Yoshiko pushed herself up enough to see her screen and sighed. “I lost…”

“Lost?”

“My match.” Yoshiko accepted Riko’s hand and pulled herself up to her feet.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Yoshiko shook her head before smiling strangely. “Though perhaps as punishment, Yohane should have Riri play a match.”

“Eh? Me?”

“Kidding.” Yoshiko chuckled. “Unless…”

As Yoshiko straightened her skirt and halo, Riko turned to the screen. Sure enough, the words “You Lose” were displayed in English overlaying a camera slowly orbiting what Riko assumed to be the two competitors in the match. The one on the ground was surely Yoshiko’s character and the one posing was whoever had won.

There was also a flood of text scrolling up the side of the screen.

“Eh?” Riko blinked as she recognized her name among the scrolling text. Or rather, Yoshiko’s nickname for her, accompanied by a myriad of emojis and other icons she didn’t readily recognize.

“Hey!” Yoshiko suddenly said, leaning forward toward the camera. “What have I told you all about Riri? Only Yohane is allowed to use that name bestowed upon one of her favored little demons.”

For some reason, Riko wasn’t surprised when the text sped up and the frequency of her nickname being typed increased.

Yoshiko growled something Riko didn’t understand but retrieved her controller and took her seat again. “Sorry, Riri, the horde sometimes doesn’t listen to their mistress when they get too excited.”

“And they’re excited… to see me?”

“Of course!” Yoshiko grinned. “Who wouldn’t be excited to see someone as wonderful as Riri?”

Riko felt heat rise in her cheeks. “A-and they know about me and that… nickname?”

“Well yeah, Yohane takes great pleasure in telling her little demons about those she favors most, such that some may ascribe to ascend to such greatness as well someday.”

Riko couldn’t help wondering what sort of details about her friends Yoshiko might share with her followers. Hopefully nothing too private. Still, despite the embarrassment, she couldn’t deny that it did make her feel good that Yoshiko held her in such high regard.

“A-anyway, you forgot this at my place this morning, Yoshiko-chan.” Riko held out the phone.

“Wahhh!? I didn’t even realize!” Yoshiko grabbed the device. “Thank you, Riri! Thank you!” She paused for a moment, apparently realizing she had once again dropped her persona. She cleared her throat. “And as a token of gratitude, Yohane shall rescind the punishment.”

“I thought you were just kidding about that.”

“Well… the horde seemed to think it was a good idea.” Yoshiko admitted, jutting a chin toward the screen. “But Yohane doesn’t want to force one of her favored little demons to do something she doesn’t want to do.”

“I never said I didn’t want to.” Riko pointed out. “I was just a little surprised by the offer. And, I’ve never played a game like that before, so I’m not sure how good I would be.”

“It’s not a matter of how good you are.” Yoshiko said, pulling open a drawer from her desk where she retrieved a second controller. “It’s about having fun.” She handed the device to Riko.

“Oh, uhm… alright.” Riko accepted the controller.

“Go ahead and grab that chair.” Yoshiko motioned in the general direction. “I’ll get things set up for a local game.”

Riko nodded, slid the chair next to the other girl and sat down.

“Alright, quick rundown of the controls.” Yoshiko indicated each button, named it function and added a small tutorial about combo moves.

Riko swallowed down her nervousness, telling herself it was little different than being on stage in front of an audience. Except the audience was watching through a camera. So maybe it was more like a PV? Except it was live. So… somewhere in between?

“Yohane shall go easy on Riri for the first couple matches.” Yoshiko said as she selected a character, an angelic girl with one black and one white wing. “Oh, the next guy over is a good beginner character.” Yoshiko pointed toward Riko’s selection.

“Alright.” Riko made her choice of a muscular man with classic anime-esque spiked hair and a very strange sword.

“Ku ku ku.” Yohane chortled. “Fallen Angel Yohane verses Little Demon Riri! Heaven or Hell! Dual 1!” She intoned, mimicking the game’s announcer surprisingly well. “Let’s Rock!”

Riko fumbled through her first combo and was disappointed when Yohane blocked the first blow and followed up with a counter. Yoshiko giggled and tripped Riko before backing off.

“This is Riri’s first match, so of course Yohane is going easy.” Yoshiko said. “I thought I already made that clear.”

Riko assumed she was responding to something she saw in the endlessly scrolling chat but wondered how the other girl was able to read it while concentrating on the game.

Riko made another attempt to attack and got a little excited when the first two hits managed to connect. But, no surprise, Yoshiko turned things around quickly and delivered a devastating combo that wiped out more than half of Riko’s health bar. Riko grunted and attacked again, only to be countered yet again.

“Slash!” the game and Yoshiko said in unison.

“But…” Riko started to protest.

“Yohane said she would go easy.” Yoshiko explained as though reading Riko’s mind. “But she didn’t say she would just let Riri win. And besides, that was just Round 1. Oh, here we go…”

Round 2 proceeded in a similar manner to Round 1 and it wasn’t long until the overall match was won by Yoshiko.

“So, do you wanna keep using that guy or try someone else?” Yoshko inquired as the character selection screen came back up. “Oh, you can also choose alternate costumes by using different buttons.”

“I see.” Riko took note. “I think I will use him a little while longer, until I learn more.”

“Alright.” Yoshiko nodded. “Well, I’m going to change things up and use her.” She moved her selection box to a short girl wielding a ship’s anchor as big as her. “She’s one of the hoard’s favorites.”

The second match, not surprisingly, went about the same as the first. However, Riko did find herself highly amused by the colorful sea animals that appeared during the special moves Yoshiko used. She could see why the audience liked that character.

Then it happened.

Riko’s eyes widened as a huge pink whale, breached across the screen to crash down over her character, along with a tidal wave of water. The remainder of Riko’s health bar was destroyed and the match was over.

Hearts, whales and other emojis flooded the chat and Yoshiko giggled.

“Heh, managed to actually pull it off again.” Yoshiko said with a toothy smile, seeming to forget her fallen angel persona again.

“What was that?” Riko asked.

“One of her super moves.” Yoshiko explained.

“It was very… cute.”

“I know, right?”

“Even if I did take a lot of damage from it.”

“Well, again, it is one of her super moves.”

“Can I try her next?”

“Of course!” Yoshiko excitedly turned her controller toward Riko. “It’s not the most complex combo, but I sometimes struggle to get the timing right when in active play.” She demonstrated the button sequence.

Riko nodded, selected the anchor-wielding girl and the next match began.

----------

“Oh, is that the time?” Riko asked, happening to notice Yoshiko’s alarm clock out of the corner of her eye.

“Hm?” Yoshiko turned her attention to where Riko was looking. “Oh… heh… I guess we have been playing a while, haven’t we? Time flies like an angel when you’re having fun, huh?”

“Mm…” Riko nodded.

The two girls had been playing, almost nonstop for over three hours. Riko barely remembered Mrs. Tsushima delivering a lovely, light lunch of mini sandwiches and crudités; easy finger food for gaming, as Yoshiko had described it.

During the session, Riko had started to learn how to skim chat with the side of her vision as her primary focus was on the game. As such, she was eventually able to join in on the conversation. She wasn’t nearly as good as Yoshiko, and missed some things and misunderstood others, much to every else’s amusement. Still, she found that the interaction enhanced the overall experience. And she now had a better understanding as to why Yoshiko loved streaming so much.

“I suppose I should at least get up and stretch a bit.” Yoshiko said, standing and raising her arms above her head.

Riko grimaced as she heard several joints pop.

“Eheh… Sorry, Riri…” Yoshiko offered an amused apology before twisting her shoulders to cause a cacophonous cascade up her spine.

“That… can’t be good for you…” Riko mumbled.

“This mortal shell can get a bit rickety at times.” Yoshiko finished by cracking her neck. “I look forward to resuming our practice sessions as it provides a good reminder to stretch properly. Though I do wonder who will take up Dia’s place as taskmaster.”

Riko chuckled. “She wasn’t that bad.”

“Hrm…” Yoshiko leaned forward to check something on the screen. “Ne, Riri, do you have any plans for dinner?”

“Yes, Chika-chan and I were going to write get some early drafts in so as to possibly have a new song or two before the new school year.”

Was it Riko’s imagination, or did Yoshiko’s expression change, strangely, for the briefest of moments? If she had blinked, she may have missed it.

“Ah. That sounds like fun.” Yoshiko’s normal…? smile returned. “Maybe sometime later.”

“If I may ask, was there something in particular you wanted to do or somewhere you wanted to go?”

Yoshiko pointed to where she had been looking a moment ago. “That’s the total donations I’ve received this stream. It’s more than I normally make. A lot more. And I believe that is because Riri agreed to join us today.” She paused and read several messages affirming her theory. “And I wanted to show my appreciation.”

“I see. Thank you for the offer. Uhm…” Riko reviewed her weekend plans. “Tomorrow night, I’m having dinner with my parents… But I’m free around this time, so…”

“I can do lunch.” Yohshiko offered quickly. “I was going to stream again, but I can move that to any other time.”

“Or we can eat lunch again like we did today.”

Yoshiko blinked. “You… want to stream with me again tomorrow?”

“If you’re alright with that, yes.”

Now that was unquestionably a genuine smile. Yoshiko’s eyes sparkled and her shoulders drew up with excitement. “Of course!” She cried joyously. “Riri is always welcome as a guest… no, better yet, co-host!” She turned to the camera. “Didja hear that everyone!? Riri is gonna come back tomorrow and join us again!”

The chat exploded again with emojis.

Riko couldn’t help smiling as well. It was a little embarrassing being the center of such commotion, but Yoshiko’s excitement was as contagious as it was adorable. And she wanted to see more of it. She liked seeing this side of Yoshiko.

Not that the fallen angel thing was bad or anything, but… Right now, Yoshiko was her happy human self. She wasn’t getting hurt or sick, losing or breaking anything, or anything else the fates decided to torment her with, and make Riko worry about her wellbeing. Yoshiko was happy. And that made Riko happy.

“Anyway, I had a lot of fun today.” Riko said, getting up. “Thank you for that.” She turned to the camera. “See you all tomorrow.” She offered a small parting wave.

“I’ll see you out.” Yoshiko popped up as well. “Be right back, my little demons. Then we’ll see who else is brave enough to face Yohane in combat.”

Still giddy with excitement and bubbling about plans for tomorrow, Yoshiko escorted Riko to the door. From there, Riko bid her farewell to the Tsushima family and headed home for the day.

----------

Riko’s brow furrowed and she grunted in frustration. Another match lost. She sighed and set her controller down on her desk.

Or rather, it was actually Chika’s controller. While the two of them were composing in Chika’s room, Riko had noticed the device and asked if Chika had the game she had played earlier that day.

Chika did not actually own the game but had been able to show Riko where to obtain it for herself, as well as order her own controller. In the meantime, while awaiting delivery, Riko was able to borrow Chika’s device, which Chika also showed her how to pair with her laptop.

So now, several hours later, Riko was practicing for the next day’s stream.

Suddenly, a notification popped up in the lower corner of her screen. Riko leaned forward and moved the cursor to click on it. A new window came up with a message.

Sventa: Greetings

Sventa? Had that been Yoshiko’s screenname? No, Riko was pretty sure it had something to do with a fallen angel. Actually, that literally was her screenname, Riko remembered, TheFallenAngel. Perhaps this was one of her other friends? Maybe Chika? She didn’t have the game, but she had the program through which it was installed and run.

YuriYoukai: Hello

YuriYoukai: Is that you, Chika-chan?

Sventa: No

Sventa: I do not believe we know each other

Sventa: But I am a fan of Yohana-sama’s streams

Sventa: Are you the same little demon Riri that appeared on Yohane-sama’s stream today?

Riko paused, wondering if she should confirm.

Sventa: If you are, I wanted to say that you made for a very fun stream

Sventa: We got to see a rare side of Yohane-sama because of you

Sventa: You are obviously someone she cares for deeply

Sventa: She talks about you and some of her other friends a lot

Well, Yoshiko had admitted as such earlier. Riko wondered again what all Yoshiko talked about with her followers.

Sventa: But this was the first time she’s brought one of you onto her stream

Sventa: And it was fun to see her having so much fun

Sventa: So thank you for that

YuriYoukai: You’re welcome.

Riko wasn’t quite she sure had really done anything worth thanks, and she had fun as well, so… Well, she had thanked Yoshiko herself, so maybe this individual just wanted to do the same.

Sventa: And now you are playing this again

Sventa: Practicing for tomorrow?

YuriYoukai: I didn’t win a single match against Yoshiko-chan

Sventa: That is true

Sventa: But Yohane-sama is an experienced player and you only started playing today

Sventa: Still, I must say you showed great potential

YuriYoukai: I still can’t win now

Sventa: But you are having fun, right?

YuriYoukai: Yes

Sventa: That is good

Sventa: And more important that how good you are or how much you win

Riko chuckled as she remembered Yoshiko saying something similar.

Sventa: Still, perhaps I can offer some advice?

Sventa: The character you used today was my first favorite when I first started playing

Sventa: And I would be happy to recommend some other characters as well

Sventa: Even the one I know Yohane-sama struggles against

Sventa: Perhaps you can catch her off guard

YuriYoukai: There is a character Yoshiko-chan struggles against?

Sventa: The game is a complex set of Rock Paper Scissors, with every character having strengths and weaknesses

Sventa: Some of these strengths can be exploited against the weaknesses of others

YuriYoukai: I see

Sventa: A skilled player can still work around it all and win

Sventa: But if they are not expecting their opponent to know certain things, they will not be ready for them

Sventa: I think it would make for a really fun stream if you were able to surprise Yohane-sama like that

Riko smiled. That did sound like fun.

YuriYoukai: Alright

YuriYoukai: Teach me what you can, Sventa-sensei

The other player invited Riko to a network game and the two started playing.

----------

Author’s Notes Continued in Followup Post

[rivenchu]

Detective Observations  1

Well @mintyfrosty​ did it again and now we have 1920s Detective AU and just.. *grabby hands* I didn’t even know I wanted this til it showed up on my dash!

Anyway way, here’s Scene 1 of 3 that sprung up out. Hope you like~

The sun hadn't been up for more than a few hours and already he was being called into the captain's office. He'd turned his last several cases in a timely manner, hadn't rocked the boat, so what reason could there be? Probably not a good one, and he lived by his gut's feeling.

But directly disobeying would be worse, it was never a good idea to willingly throw yourself on Terrance's bad side.

Right braced himself as he pushed open the door. He noted someone was to his left, ignored them and walked right up to the desk to stare at the chief.

"Good, Right. Was wonderin' when ya'd stroll in." The chief grinned and pushed his hat back as he looked up. Oh, the good detective looked like he was in snit, he must've already guessed what was about to happen.

One terse nod from Right and Terrance leaned back in his chair. Keeping things moving was his job and he wanted to see this play out.

"I know you've been working alone for awhile, and I've allowed it out of respect." The chief started, "But it's gone on long enough."

Right narrowed his eyes and growled. No, he'd chased off any partner they assigned to him. He didn't </i>want</i> another after... after... what happened. He was fine alone.

"Reginald is one of the best in the business. He'll be your partner." Leaning back Terrance wiggled a pen in his hand as he smiled. If he could solve two minor problems with this one move he'd treat himself to lunch for being so gosh darn brilliant.

The chief smiled serenely up at the detective when he slammed both hands down on the desk and swore. Spiraling off into a rant about he didn't need a partner, was doing good work on his own, surely he could leave him be to keep working well like he had been.

Reginald fidgeted in the back of the office. He thought he had been doing good lately. Sure he spent most of the time at his desk, but many of the detectives used him to consult on their tough cases. He helped so many get solved by pointing his thoughts or what should get investigated on.

Why the chief felt he needed to team up and get his 'short scrawny self outta the office' was beyond him. He'd given up at trying to understand how Terrance worked, the man veered between idiot and genius in the same day. Sometimes he managed both at the same time, especially if he was leading a raid.

Right glanced over his shoulder at his supposed partner and narrowed is eyes further. No. He hadn't bothered to look at the time he walked in and he didn't want that one. He knew of rumors around the office as much as he wished they didn't try to pull him in for gossip. Honestly there were a few officers that were worse then the gaggle of gossiping grandmas in his neighborhood.

Reginald sighed and hoped this would be over soon, he was swamped. The day had started off plesatly enough, and now he was stuck in a loud awkward situation that no one wanted except the chief. He was about to ask if he could leave to get a drink when the unthinkable happened.

How dare. How dare his mustache was insulted, it had taken him years to get it to it's current magnificence. Marching forward Reginald glared up at the taller man. Curse Terrance for only seeming to pick the tallest and the strongest. Reginald knew he wasn't short but he felt like it some days.

"What makes you think that <i>I</i> want to be stuck with <i>you</i> ?" Jabbing his finger up at the detective Reginald jutted his chin forward, "You're a loose cannon who disappears for days at time without a word to anyone."

"Well you both seem to know enough about each other already." Tucking the pen behind his ear Terrance clapped his hands once for attention. When both fell silent he picked up a toothpick and stuck it in his mouth jovially. This was a good start to his day.

"Right, you can't keep having a double office to yourself, Reginald I expect you to move in by the end of the day." The chief slammed his hand down as the arguments started up and he raised an eyebrow at the officers as he dropped his smile. "Boys my decision is final, now leave."

Wiggling the toothpick around Terrance watched the pair sullenly leave.

He'd finally say Right wasn't alone so the higher ups would stop bothering him about it. He'd get to plan more things his way with Reginald out of the office. Hopefully Right, their best fighter, would manage to keep Reginald, thier worst fighter alive. Yes, he would be treating himself to a great lunch.

<center>~*~*~</center>

Right had made a point to leave soon after the... partnering. Reginald wad skulked into the room with a box of his things and he wasn't going to watch the string bean unpack his things onto a desk that wasn't <i>his</i>.

He had things he could do to take him out of the office. Leads to question, perps to track, diners to eat at.

He managed to go two days without touching foot back to the office. It was early enough the sun wasn't up and the place was empty. Perfect, he could drop off the two cases he solved, grab a couple more and disappear for a few more days.

Why was his office light on?

Opening the door quietly he shot a flat look the the occupied desk. The box was only half unpacked, but the desk was covered in folders and papers. The interloper was fast asleep and drooling over the cover of a folder.

Rolling his eyes Right walked over ad picked up a folder. There must have been ten cases worth of work on the lieutenant's desk, no one could do that much.

Except it wasn't his case.

Eyebrows raising he recognized the name of a colleague. The guy had a good habit of solving things but... it was obvious from this he should go question the family more.

Flipping a page he saw a note scrawled with that very suggestion, and then another to check alley across the street. The darkest place, easiest to ambush with a dumpster for disposal. Better hurry because trash was coming up in two days.

Come to think of it when asked to look over something he did see this particular handwriting often but didn't read them since he was asked pointed questions. Honestly he thought it was a low ranked officer taking notes or doing simple checks.

Curious now Right leaned against the desk and began to flip through more. Lot of familiar detective names he was seeing, some missing obvious leads they should be following up on. Thoroughly feeling unimpressed with his fellow detectives right now he put the stack back down.

The other side of the desk held a few more folders, ones the other hadn't gotten to yet. He shouldn't let himself get sidetracked, he still had to drop off his own work to the chief. Walking over to his desk he began to gather his cases.

The door slammed open, "Up and attem boys! Early bird gets the work ad you're the earliest we got today!" Terrance dropped his foot back down to the ground and surveyed the room. He'd startled both but... oh not again.

"Damn it Reggie, I told you to go home last night. You're going to burn out at this rate." Pinching his nose he glared at the embarrassed lietenant as he peeled a paper off his face. Fishing around his pocket he pulled out a few dollars and dropped them on the desk. "Get breakfast before you visit the scene kid, I know you didn't eat dinner."

Ducking his head Reginald nodded. He had meant to go, but the other detectives had come to visit, commiserate with him about losing his own office, and asked for help with a few cases. Some had been more involved than he thought and time had slipped away from him.

"Right, make sure he doesn't stay tonight." Terrance sighed and questioned his decision to pair them up. He was going to give it two weeks minimum to see how things shake out.

"Oh, and take him with you when you go Right, have a coffee, then head to 31st and 45th. Police will be expecting you both."  The chief absently waved off the two idiots and walked out of the room.

The room fell silent as the door swung shut.

Gathering his cases Right sighed before he turned around to face the... other his was going to be stuck with all day.

"You were going to leave me here after getting more work, weren't' you?" Reginald had swiveled his chair to watch the detective with the most peeved he could manage.

"Mmmhmm." That had been the plan and Right knew there was no point to lying.

The blunt agreement seemed to take the wind out of the lieutenant's sails as he deflated and rubbed a hand over his face.

"Fine, let's get this over with." Swiping the money from his desk Reginald stood up and threw his coat on. Technically he was the higher ranked one and should lead, but it was early, he was tired and still muzzy from the abrupt awakening. Gesturing to the door in the traditional 'after you' he raised his eyebrows at the detective, they had places to go after all.

Right merely blinked. He had expected the other to pull rank immediately and take charge.

Marching out the detective dropped the completed cases in Terrance's bin outside his office and walked towards the stairs after they both grabbed some supplies. Out in the parking lot he made a beeline to his car to claim the driver side. Again he was surprised when the other just... let him.

"Something on the way okay?" Right finally spoke up. He'd already danced the line with the chief but he wasn't going to push more than he already had. He liked his job to stay even if... it was hard sometimes.

He got a curt nod in return.

Most places weren't open yet, when he pulled to the side of the road in front of one of the few places that did look open the parking lot was full. Someone had to stay in the car.

"Got a thermos?" Reginald finally spoke up as he cracked open the car door and stepped outside.

Right had meant to fill it at the station before he left. He knew the coffee bit wasn't a serious order but he liked his morning beverage. The thermos he handed over was a simple silver and green, but it served him well.

"Let me guess, black as midnight?" Leaning against the doorframe Reginald reached out to take it. A ghost of a smirk flashed over his face when the other nodded. Yes, many of the manly men at the office drank it that way. He'd rather not touch the stuff, but sometimes in a pinch he had to.

Ghastly stuff, not even milk and sugar could save it.

Watching the lieutenant walk away Right sighed and leaned back in his chair. Tapping a finger against the wheel he watched the traffic, checked the gas level, and saw the horizon starting to brighten finally. The sun hadn't even come up yet.

It was going to be a long day.

When Reginald emerged he handed the green thermos over before climbing into the car. He tucked his own flask (thank god they had tea even if it was oversteeped) between his feet and started on breakfast.

Right raised an eyebrow at just an egg on toast. No wonder the other got called scrawny if he thought that was a meal.

Unscrewing the top the detective took a hesitant sniff. Smelled like a standard dark roast...

"No I didn't spit in it." Reginald snorted. "I've got to get to know you before I can decide not to like you properly." He took another bite and looked out the window at the even busier diner.

Right shook his head and screwed it back on. Yeah, he could understand that. He just didn't want a partner right now, nothing against the lieutenant as a person.

Checking his mirrors and then turning his head to look the detective pulled back out on the road. He waited til the breakfast was almost done, "Might want to check your mustache before we get there."

Reginald choked down the last  bite and shot the other a look. Reaching into his jacket he pulled out a small mirror and gasped. The left side was fraying and uneven from the right. No doubt the result of falling asleep on it, why hadn't that thought crossed his mind to check this morning.

Swearing Reginald fished out his emergency wax for the dire repair. "You let me walk into the diner like that?!" He shot a incredulous look over at the detective. Really. How could you?

Right found himself snickering despite himself.

[reyescarlos]

can i be him || a tarlos fic

chapter 4/4 word count 6.5k || read on ao3

…I know he don't deserve you If you were mine, I'd never let anyone hurt you, no, no I wanna dry those tears, kiss those lips It's all that I've been thinking about

Carlos tells himself he can get through this dinner, this one night in company with TK and Alex again. He’s been making good on his promise to himself these last few days, doing his utmost best not to dwell on his feelings for TK and focus primarily on work to keep him busy. It’s a new week, a clean slate and Carlos is adamant about hitting the reset button and leaving all the negativity of the prior week behind.

Once he arrives at the restaurant for the celebration dinner,  Carlos gives TK’s name to the hostess who informs him that his party is already waiting for him. She grabs a menu from the podium and escorts Carlos to the table.

He spots TK first, his breath catching at the sight of his best friend greeting him with a warm smile, eyes capturing the candlelight from the table. It makes his heart swell for a moment but it quickly passes the second Alex turns in his seat. Carlos offers up a wave as he makes his way over, TK already pulling out the seat beside him for Carlos to sit down.

“Carlos,” Alex greets with a stiff nod of his head as he sits. Carlos responds in kind, mirroring the gesture before picking up the menu in front of him.

“Were you guys waiting long?” Carlos asks TK.

“Oh no, we just got here a few minutes early and they were ready for us, you’re fine.”

Carlos looks over the menu, making up his mind just as their waiter comes to the table and takes their orders.

For all his trepidation going into this dinner, Carlos feels himself relaxing a bit more as the three of them fall into easy conversation. Since their outing at the café, Carlos had vowed to himself to be a bit warmer towards Alex. It’s proving itself to be a work in progress but like with everything else he’s been trying to curb as of late, he’s giving it a fair shot.

Their food arrives and conversation tapers off as they begin to dine, the table filled with the clinking of utensils on plates.

There’s a faint buzzing sound that draws Carlos’ attention a few minutes later. Alex sticks a hand into the inside of his blazer, eyes fixed on his phone screen once he’s retrieved it.

“Pardon me,” Alex says, pushing back his chair and rising from his seat, already putting his phone to his ear by the time he walks past TK.

Carlos looks to his friend and sees TK’s brows furrow for the faintest of seconds before it passes. Something feels off to Carlos but he tries not to dwell on it. He focuses on his meal, chatting with TK about the busy day he’s had at work. He’s in the middle of talking about his last call of the evening when his fork slips from his hand, leaving a noticeable stain on his shirt where his food splashes.

“Should I ask the waiter for a bib?” TK teases, handing him a napkin.

“Jerk.” Carlos tries to clear it away but he only seems to make it worse. “I’ll be right back.”

Carlos excuses himself from the table, giving TK’s shoulder a light squeeze before he goes. He hates himself for seeking out that bit of contact but it was practically a reflex.

He crosses the restaurant and heads to the back alcove where the bathrooms are located, stopping short of the opening when he hears Alex’s voice.

“I know, baby. I miss you, too but I’ve got to go.” Alex pauses and laughs warmly, affectionately Carlos would argue. “Yes, I swear I’ll make it up to you. Of course, uh huh. I love you, too, babe.”

Carlos’ eyes widen. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions but this seems like a pretty open and shut case, especially with the way Alex startles when he walks out and sees him.

Alex tries to play it off, placing a friendly pat on Carlos’ arm but Carlos isn’t keen on playing along, jerking his body back.

Alex frowns, his jaw clenching as he holds up his phone.

“Just had a chat with my sister,” he says, rattling the phone in his hand before pocketing it.

Carlos lifts a brow. “You call your sister baby? There are laws against that sort of thing, you know.”

This comment wipes the friendly smile off Alex’s face, the charade dropped entirely.

“How the hell could you do this to TK?” Carlos snaps.

By nature he isn’t the most argumentative person but on rare occasions, when a situation calls for it, his soft demeanor flips, most notably when it’s in defense of someone he cares about.

“I’m not doing anything. Look, I don’t know what you think you heard but this has nothing to do with TK—“

“Please don’t bullshit me right now, Alex,” Carlos cuts in, his voice as cold and hard as steel. “You had better tell him and quick or else I will. TK is amazing and if you’re too blind or stupid to see that, the least you can do is not go behind his back. Have the decency to tell him.”

Alex stares at him, his jaw clenched but Carlos doesn’t back down or waver. He hasn’t been this angry in so long and it’s only because they’re in a restaurant and TK is a few feet away that he puts a lid on his anger to keep it from boiling over completely.

“I bet you’re just loving this,” Alex quips, crossing his arms over his chest. “Counting down the time until you can finally make something of your crush on TK.”

Carlos isn’t expecting this and he knows his face betrays it because Alex huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes.

“The only person who can’t tell you’re in love with TK is TK.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. He’s my best friend.”

“Right, because you’ve been in the friend zone for...how many years now?”

The words cut deep but Carlos refuses to let Alex get the best of him at this moment.

“Tell him or I swear to God I will,” he stresses again. “Be glad I’m even giving you a warning.”

He stares Alex down for a moment before brushing past him and going into the restroom, taking a breath. His hands are trembling as he stands in front of the mirror. He turns on the faucet and lets the cold water run for a bit before cupping his hands beneath the stream and burying his face in his palms. He does this a few times until he can only focus on the chill seeping through his pores, the cold taking place of the heat on his face.

Carlos looks at himself. His expression is moody and he knows that TK will be able to tell something is wrong but he also knows he has to get back to the table. He’s already been gone so long. He tries to focus on getting the stain out his shirt but he doesn’t actually care about that. He takes a few seconds to pull himself together.

It’s not like him to lose his cool and he’s upset he allowed Alex of all people to get under his skin but it couldn’t be helped though. The man knew how to work his way there expertly, cutting into Carlos with the truth he’s been trying to grapple with for almost half his life.

He was hopelessly in love with TK and the world knew it. He would give anything for it to be the inverse and for TK to not only know how he felt but to feel it back.

Reluctantly, Carlos looks away and goes back into the dining area of the restaurant, rejoining the table. Alex is chattering away and just the sound of his voice puts Carlos’ teeth on edge.

TK glances at him and smiles, his brows soon knitting together as he takes in Carlos completely.

“You alright there?” he asks, cutting across whatever anecdote Alex was in the middle of.

TK searches his face, those beautiful eyes clouded with concern.

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

TK touches his elbow lightly and Carlos swears he can feel the warmth of his fingertips burrowing through his skin to the core of him. Too soon TK pulls his hand away, leaving Carlos feeling devoid of something he can’t quite name just then.

It’s torture sitting across from Alex now as he continues on with conversation as if nothing is wrong. Lying and being deceitful are such abstract concepts for Carlos. He wonders at how long Alex has been seeing this other guy and how he’s been able to look TK in the face every day and carry on as if he doesn’t have a whole different life running parallel to this one.

Carlos is quiet all throughout the rest of the meal, finishing his dinner and suffering a bit longer through dessert. He counts it as a mercy when the check arrives.

Alex whips out his wallet first, tossing his card on the table. He reaches for the receipt, signing off on it.

TK tries to protest but Alex waves him off, flashing a smile that makes Carlos feel sick to his stomach.

“My treat, seriously,” Alex insists, closing the receipt case back. “It’s the least I could do.”

His eyes meet Carlos’ who just stares back at him. If the man is expecting praise or a word of thanks, he sure as hell won’t be getting it from Carlos. Covering the bill isn’t going to earn him points or redeem him in any way. Their waiter returns and slips the case off the table, breaking Carlos' attention away.

“That was really sweet of you, babe. Thank you,” TK says and it takes every ounce of Carlos’ reserve not to scream that he shouldn’t be thanking Alex for anything, that he shouldn’t be impressed by anything the man has ever said or done.

Once the waiter returns with Alex’s card, Carlos is on his feet.

TK looks at him curiously but Alex either has the good sense or the cowardice not to look at him just then.

“I’ve got an early morning,” he says to TK. It isn’t a lie but the real truth is that he can’t stand to stay around Alex a moment longer.

“Right, totally. It is getting pretty late anyway.”

All three men exit the restaurant and Carlos is grateful for the fresh air, for the chance to breathe in something clean and allow the chilled night to temper his mood.

“We’re parked this way,” TK says, his thumb jutting behind him.

“I’m the other way.” Carlos looks intently at TK, feeling a tightness in his chest, an odd mix of joy and pain. TK always makes him happy but this newfound secret he’s keeping from TK hurts him.

“It was good seeing you tonight,” he says. If nothing else, at least he got to see his best friend. It just gnaws at him, having this hidden truth between them. He’s completely blocked out Alex who is standing a few feet away, a useful skill that proves itself extremely valuable on the heels of all he’s learned about the man tonight.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” TK searches his eyes, placing a hand on his cheek gently.

It’s so affectionate, so caring but Carlos knows that’s simply how TK always is with him. It doesn’t mean anything, at least not in the ways he’s been hoping for since they were fifteen.

“I just need to get some rest. It’s been a long day,” he replies, placing a cupped hand over TK’s wrist.

Carlos figures it’s little gestures like this that make Michelle so adamant that they act like a couple already. He tries to see themselves through the eyes of a passerby. He supposes that’s the assumption they’d make. He’d give the world for it to be a correct assessment.

TK frowns, clearly not impressed or satisfied with this answer. Carlos supposes his friend can sense or see a weariness in his eyes because he doesn’t push the topic further. Instead he lowers his hand and wraps his arms around Carlos.

Carlos doesn’t hesitate in returning the hug, his hands coming to rest on the expanse of TK’s back. He wants to confess, to spill the horrible secret that’s already starting to spread like a cancer inside him. How Alex has been able to hide the truth for so long, Carlos will never know. He’s only known for an hour and it’s killing him already.

“Call me if you need to talk, alright?” TK offers as they break apart.

Carlos just nods, unsure of what to say. He knows he won’t be picking up the phone tonight. He isn’t in the mood to talk and even if he was, he isn’t sure what would come pouring out of him. For as much as he wants TK to be brought up to speed on what’s happening, he feels the words need to come from Alex.

It’s daunting to put faith into the idea that Alex will do the right thing when he’s more than proven how distrustful he is. But Carlos will give him the benefit of the doubt for right now. He figures he can be generous and give Alex a full day. Anything beyond that and he’ll take matters into his own hands.

TK says goodnight to him, turning back to walk alongside Alex to the man’s car. Carlos stays rooted to his spot for a moment watching them go. Alex glances over his shoulder and even from a distance Carlos is certain the other man can feel the full brunt of his glare.

Alex is on borrowed time. The clock is ticking and from the guilty expression on his face, Carlos can tell Alex knows that.

~*~*~

From the moment he woke up, Carlos has felt as if he’s been in a fog. He’d barely managed to sleep last night, his mind constantly replaying the events of his disastrous dinner. At the center of his thoughts has been TK. Carlos’ heart breaks all over again at the thought of his best friend.

It was a wonder that Carlos managed to get through his shift today. Each time his phone chimed or buzzed, he practically jumped out of his skin thinking it was an incoming call or text from TK. But the entire day was spent with radio silence on TK’s end, leaving Carlos with a sense of dread that Alex had chickened out.

He’s only been home for an hour now when there’s a hurried double knock against the door followed by two rings of the doorbell. Whoever is on the other side is clearly persistent in getting his attention. Carlos leaves from his bedroom and heads towards the front of his home.

“I’m coming,” he calls out, approaching the door warily.

“It’s me,” comes TK’s voice and Carlos rushes to let him in.

For all his haste to get Carlos to open up, TK stands frozen in place. His eyes are rimmed a deep pink, his cheeks flushed. Carlos knew Alex’s confession would blindside and hurt TK but this sight breaks Carlos.

“Come here,” he says, holding open his arms.

Numbly, TK slips into his embrace. Carlos closes the door with his foot as TK sighs heavily against his shoulder.

“He cheated on me. I’ve been so stupid,” he mumbles.

Carlos closes his eyes and gently cards through TK’s hair.

“It wasn’t stupid to believe your boyfriend would be faithful to you. That’s the bare minimum.”

“You had my back,” TK notes unexpectedly, pulling back. “Alex said you let him have it.”

Carlos flexes his jaw muscle, still bothered by his conversation with Alex last night. He wasn't expecting Alex to make any mention of Carlos finding him out but he supposes this little tidbit was something important to note. At least it explained the mood Carlos was in throughout the evening.

“Of course I did. And I wanted to tell you immediately, I really did. I just—he needed to own up to it.”

Carlos didn’t want Alex to feel as if he had an out. His dishonesty and betrayal was something that Carlos was thoroughly disgusted by. He needed Alex to be the one to confess, though, he’d been serious in his threat outside the bathroom. Even if it meant ultimately doing Alex’s dirty work for him, had this gone beyond a day, Carlos would have intervened. He would hope that if he were ever in a situation like this, someone would do the right thing on his behalf.

Carlos leads them to the living room, the pair sitting beside each other on the couch. TK’s elbows are propped on his knees, a restless hand raking through his hair quickly. There’s a nervous energy coming off of him that Carlos is trying to figure out how to navigate. It feels different than TK’s usual bouts of anxiety. There’s a nervousness to TK that Carlos can’t pin down.

TK nods and wipes at his face. “I agree with that. I’m not upset with you or anything. I just feel so...I don’t know. I trusted him. I should’ve seen it.”

“Hey, no. Don’t do that. Don’t go blaming yourself for someone else’s mistakes. You’re more than he ever deserved.”

Carlos still can’t believe that someone would squander an opportunity like this. He would have given anything to be with TK, to shower him with love and affection. Yet when Alex had this chance, he ruined it and ran off to be with someone else. It just didn’t make sense to him.

TK smiles faintly, as if trying to absorb what Carlos is saying to him. “It’s just as well,” TK mumbles. “I haven’t exactly been fair to him this whole time either.”

Carlos isn’t sure what that’s supposed to mean. TK spent almost all of his time with Alex. He was constantly talking about him; a model boyfriend.

“Are you going to be okay?” Carlos asks, placing a hand on TK’s shoulder.

TK stays hunched over and for the life of him, Carlos cannot fully decipher his expression. There’s the obvious hurt and shock that comes from finding out his boyfriend had been cheating on him. There’s also some kind of pensiveness that Carlos doesn’t know what to make of.

“Seriously, TK, are you alright?”

TK stares straight ahead for a moment, seemingly collecting himself and pulling away from his thoughts before he speaks again.

“The crazy thing is, I don’t really think I’m that upset,” he says slowly, still piecing his thoughts together. “I mean, yeah, it sucks and I didn’t see it coming but I should’ve known it wasn’t going to work with him. I tried really hard to make it work and it just didn’t. It couldn’t.”

Carlos stares at TK, attempting to gauge where his mind is now. He’s got a distant look on his face and part of Carlos wonders how much of this TK is even trying to share with him or if he just so happens to be a fellow passenger on his train of thought.

“I always knew he and I weren't meant to be,” TK continues softly.

He runs a hand through his hair again. Carlos remains in place beside him, holding his breath, almost too afraid to say anything and unsure of what he could even possibly offer now. He decides it’s best just to let TK control the reins for a little while, to let him steer this conversation.

“Alex said something to me that I can’t shake.” TK turns to look fully at him and Carlos lowers his hand, letting it fall from TK’s shoulder to his own lap. TK looks so serious that it’s making him feel anxious.

“Carlos, I’m going to ask you something and I need you to be completely honest with me when you answer.”

This is setting Carlos on edge. He tries to think of what Alex could’ve said to make TK quite this grave. His heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach. Alex wouldn’t have shared his secret, would he? Carlos reasons that Alex very well could have, that he most likely did. After all, he had the motive. Their confrontation hadn’t been an agreeable one but still, Carlos couldn’t believe that Alex would be spiteful enough to blab. All the same, Carlos decides to play it cool until he knows with absolute certainty that TK’s ex took it upon himself to expose Carlos’ true feelings about his best friend.

TK blinks twice and sighs bracingly. “Carlos, do you love me?”

The question is so blunt that Carlos jerks back as if he’s been struck. He can barely breathe. There’s a knot in his chest that seems to have crept in out of nowhere.

“Of course, I do. You’re my best friend, you know that.”

TK gives him a meaningful look. Carlos sighs wearily and purses his lips.

“TK, we don’t have to get into this right now, okay? You’ve got a lot going on with everything and this doesn’t matter anyway so we can drop it.”

It’s not a confession but it’s hardly a denial either and from the look on TK’s face, it’s confirmation enough of the truth.

“It does matter. You could have...I should have…,” he sighs and shakes his head. “We could've figured this out.”

It’s this statement that needles at Carlos. He couldn’t have just come out with it, despite how badly he’s wanted to every day since they met sophomore year. Carlos had toyed with the notion more times than he could ever keep track of but the fear was always there and it never seemed appropriate. Either one or both of them was seeing someone else or was just fresh off a breakup. It always felt off and Carlos wanted them to have a fighting chance, if he was ever bold enough to speak up.

“When? Our timing has never been right and if it hasn’t happened for us by now, clearly it never will and I’m…I’m okay with that. I love what we have now enough to be okay with it.”

TK eyes him with such hurt. Carlos feels like throwing up.

“You can’t break your own heart, least of all for me. It’s not fair to you,” TK says softly.

Carlos looks away, shaking his head.

“I can’t believe Alex told you this.” Even with Alex out of his life for good now, the man still managed to give Carlos the worst kind of parting gift, making sure he still lingered for a short while. A horrible aftertaste.

“He just said he thinks there’s been something going on between us and that I should talk to you about it. And I knew he was right about that.”

“Right, well, we spoke. It’s handled and we can move on,” Carlos says, standing up and beginning to pace.

“Hang on, Carlos, please.” It’s the pleading tone that roots Carlos to the ground, making him freeze in place. “I’m getting this whole thing wrong,” he sighs.

Carlos keeps his back to TK, fearing the expression his best friend must be wearing now. He isn’t sure what he hopes for at this point but he doesn’t feel strong enough to handle even the possibility that there’s pity in TK’s eyes. He already feels foolish enough as it is. Anything more just might send him to his breaking point.

Carlos can hear TK coming closer to him and he exhales slowly through his mouth to steel himself for whatever’s coming next. It’s only when he feels his best friend’s hand on his arm that he reluctantly turns to face him.

“Did you honestly think I could never love you back?” TK asks, his voice low and measured. “Did you really think, in all the years that we’ve known each other, that I never saw you in that way?”

Carlos thinks back to the countless little moments between them: shared glances that perhaps lasted a moment too long, TK seeking his hand out casually, small, seemingly innocuous touches that felt like lifelines to Carlos. The subtlety to it all. These questions being posed now make Carlos feel so hopeful but that’s a dangerous emotion to have, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.

“Sometimes I would hope but I didn’t think I had a real reason to.”

Perhaps this isn’t the right thing to say. TK’s face falls and he swallows thickly, removing his hand from Carlos’ arm. Carlos can feel his heart sink down even lower somehow. He’s quick to keep speaking.

“You were always nice to me but I couldn’t tell if there was more to it or if you were just being your usual self. You make everyone feel loved and special. It’s your superpower and one of the best things about you. But the way you’d talk about guys you liked, it was different from how you’d talk about me.”

“Because it is different with you, Carlos. Since day one it’s been different.”

Carlos’ head tilts to the side, almost as if trying to see past conversations differently.

“You’ve always mattered more than anyone to me and you always will. I just—you’ve seen me at my lowest points. I never knew how to say any of this to you. You know things about me that I’ll probably never be able to share with anyone in the world. You know all my messy secrets. Because of that I didn’t think you’d ever—“ TK cuts himself off and draws in a steadying breath before continuing.

“You know all the reasons why I’m probably not a good choice so I’ve been trying so hard all these years to distract myself, to try and get over you, to get you out my head and heart that way. But you’re in here, Carlos. No matter how many guys I see, there’s nowhere I can go to hide from this and I’m so sick of running from it. Of running from you and all that we could be. I’m done with that. I’m not running anymore. These last few days…,” he trails off, shaking his head. Carlos holds his breath, his heart racing as TK continues.

“If I said or did the wrong thing to scare you off? God, I don’t know what I would do then. Nothing scares me more than the thought of ruining us. I can’t afford to lose you. I just can’t.”

A few tears roll down TK’s cheeks and Carlos’ first instinct is to wipe them away. He follows through, tentatively cupping TK’s face and brushing his thumbs gently over his skin. TK’s eyes flutter closed as his hand lightly grips Carlos’ left wrist. When TK’s eyes open, Carlos is right there staring into them. He can feel something pass between them, a weight being lifted.

It hurts him to think TK has been living with this fear all along, harboring this notion that Carlos couldn’t feel anything deeper than friendship for him because of his past obstacles. At times it was easy to forget how insecure TK could feel in private when he was such a natural at keeping up appearances. All of those hardships had never once been a deterrent for Carlos. He’d always admired TK’s strength and resilience. If anything, it made him fall that much harder for him.

“You've been through a lot, yes. But it never made me think less of you somehow. I’m always in awe of you. You could never lose me, TK. I care about you too much to ever let go.”

TK wraps his arms around Carlos and Carlos hugs him back, cradling his body to his frame. TK’s eyes close as his forehead comes to rest against Carlos’.

“What you were saying before?” Carlos asks, unable to shake his curiosity over what TK stopped himself from saying. “What about these last few days?”

TK shudders against him and sighs.

“They lit a fire. Out on the trail...when you mentioned having a date. That was when it really hit me that we could seriously lose our chance. It just—it made it all real to me and it scared me so much, Los. That’s the real reason I acted like that, not because I didn’t think you made for a good catch but because I knew all the ways you did. And there it was that some other guy was seeing it too. You felt so far away, like we were slipping from each other, and it was my own damn fault because I was too scared to tell you how much I’ve wanted you all this time. But I also wanted you to be happy because it’s what you deserve more than anything. I just...I just wished I could’ve been him. I wished I could have been brave enough to make a move.”

Carlos can barely piece together a coherent thought. He blinks, trying his best to let TK’s admissions sink in fully. He could easily recall TK’s initial response during their hike, the surprise on his face. In the moment, Carlos had taken it as a slight but now he could see just how wrong he was. TK was merely feeling the same level of fear he experienced each time his best friend got together with someone new.

“And I wanted to be in Alex’s place,” Carlos counters. “It felt weird putting myself out there and then when it didn’t pan out, it felt like a sign to focus on myself, you know? Figure some things out. And you guys were getting so serious, I really thought this could've been it for you.”

TK shakes his head. “It was always doomed, believe me. I think I just got good at hiding after all this time. I came so close so many times to telling you but I didn’t know how.”

Carlos cups TK’s chin, his thumb brushing along his jaw. TK’s lips part, in surprise, in invitation, maybe both.

“I want this so badly,” Carlos confesses softly. It just pours so freely from him but there’s no need now to be guarded about the way he feels. His heart has already been laid bare.

TK peers at him and Carlos notes how much more relaxed TK looks and feels now in comparison to when he first arrived. This is all Carlos could ever want for the both of them, to continue being a source of comfort for each other as they venture into new territory.

Carlos brushes his nose lightly against TK’s, basking in their closeness, in this newfound intimacy. TK hums softly at the feel, his eyes shutting briefly before opening back up again, meeting with Carlos’. It’s terrifying how everything he’s always wanted is quite literally in his hands. It’s almost too much for Carlos to make sense of at this moment. He smiles at TK and kisses his cheek, lingering there. TK groans before laughing quietly.

“You’re a few inches away from where I was hoping—“

Carlos doesn’t give him the chance to finish the thought, silencing him with a feather light kiss to test the waters. TK’s hand runs up Carlos’ chest and shoulders, coming to rest at the nape of his neck. It’s all the assurance Carlos needs to kiss him again, this time with more emphasis. His hands anchor against TK’s hips, pressing their bodies together as his mouth gets familiar with TK’s.

This comes naturally to them, just as Carlos had always suspected it would. TK’s nails drag lightly against his neck and Carlos can’t stop the moan that claws its way out of his chest. Of course TK would uncover one of his weaknesses this easily, this early on.

Carlos deepens the kiss, his curious hands roaming further along TK’s frame, nails clawing gently. His lips learn the shape of TK’s mouth with ease, savoring every bit of this man that he loves so fully. It’s enough to make his head spin but Carlos knows he can’t get too carried away. There’s still a lot TK has to work through post-breakup and Carlos doesn’t want to encroach on that, even if kissing TK is better than he had ever imagined.

He pulls away and TK groans again, unabashedly voicing his opposition to stopping their kiss.

“I thought you’d want to take things slow considering Alex and everything,” Carlos notes, pecking TK’s lips once more.

TK playfully narrows his eyes. “That’s very considerate of you but I’ve been waiting to kiss you since we were fifteen so if that isn’t slow, I don’t know what is.”

Carlos stares at him in stunned silence, shaking his head in disbelief.

“What?” TK prompts, slipping his hand into Carlos’ and entwining their fingers.

“Nothing, it’s just...it’s crazy to think you’ve been feeling this way too since we were kids. I don’t think I’ll ever get over that.”

TK gives his hand a light squeeze before bringing it to his mouth and placing a gentle kiss against the back.

“Well, it’s true. You’re the greatest guy I know. I always had a good feeling about you, about us.”

Carlos laughs to himself, remembering the first time they spoke, how he’d been so nervous that he could barely get a word out at first. But TK seemed convinced they would get along well, right from the start. His foresight had been spot on.

“You definitely called it.”

“I spoke it into existence. I knew I wanted to know you. To this day, it’s the best decision I’ve made since moving here all those years ago.”

Carlos looks down at their hands. It’s something they’ve done plenty of times over the years but now he’s seeing it through a new set of eyes, a new meaning behind the gesture.

“I really do love you, TK,” Carlos says seriously, looking up at him then.

Getting the words out is liberating and daunting but it needs to be said plainly, explicitly. He’s gone so many years with the feeling consuming him. It hasn’t been a burden but Carlos already feels lighter with it off his chest.

TK’s face breaks out into the warmest smile. It touches his eyes and makes them shine in a way Carlos has never seen before in all the years he’s known him, a light shining from the inside out. It reminds Carlos of an evening star. TK’s always been the brightest in his universe.

“I love you, too,” he replies breathlessly. “It feels so good to finally say it out loud.”

Carlos traces TK’s bottom lip with the tip of his index finger. TK’s mouth parts, his green eyes flashing with want. Carlos spares them both, leaning in and kissing TK hungrily. This kiss is deeper and far less guarded than their last, Carlos no longer shy about where he touches TK. They stumble backwards onto the couch, Carlos seated as TK straddles his waist, never breaking the kiss. His hips roll over Carlos’, the gesture making Carlos practically breathless. He feels drunk off this moment, somehow managing to live both inside and out of himself. To have everything he’s wanted for eleven years suddenly all at once is making him feel a bit delirious. To know that all those years of wishing, of warring with himself and Michelle’s advice are now over is, in a word, surreal. If she could see them now.

Carlos laughs to himself against TK lips, a low hum of a sound as he smiles, his mouth still pushing back against TK’s.

“I’m giving you my best moves here, Reyes.”

“And believe me, it’s all quality stuff,” Carlos muses, pulling back to look at him. “I’m just thinking about Michelle.”

“Okay, now I’m really starting to get offended,” TK jokingly reprimands.

“Don’t worry, babe. You’re always front of mind.” He punctuates this assurance with a soft kiss at TK’s temple.

The pet name falls so casually from Carlos' lips that he doesn’t even realize he’s said it until he sees TK preen at the nickname, burying his flushed face against the side of Carlos’ neck. Carlos fights off the urge to shiver when he feels TK’s breath on his skin but he can feel goosebumps rise regardless.

“She’s going to have a field day with this. She’s been saying forever that you loved me back.”

“My dad too,” TK mumbles, pressing a kiss against Carlos’ pulse point before shifting to look at him. “He’s been trying to convince me for years now but I just couldn’t allow myself to go there, you know?”

Carlos nods in understanding. That’s been the story of his life since he was fifteen. TK takes a hold of his hand, tracing along his palm absentmindedly. Carlos just watches him in silence for a time, enjoying the comfortable weight of TK on top of him, of the man being this openly affectionate with him. It’s beyond what he has been imagining over the years.

“All this time wasted,” TK laments after a few moments, his expression troubled.

Carlos rubs at TK’s sides, shaking his head. “I don’t think of it that way. Not at all. We’ve just been laying down some serious groundwork and now we get to cash in on it. We’re golden going forward.”

Like any good home, love needed a strong foundation. As far as Carlos was concerned, they’d merely been giving themselves something stable to build a life on.

A slow smile spreads across TK as he seemingly allows Carlos’s words to sink in.

“I like the way you think. It’s just one of the many, many things I love about you.”

Carlos takes TK’s face in his hand, studying it as if he hasn’t spent the last eleven years committing it all to memory. He takes in his bright eyes, that playful, knowing smirk. All of this is his now in the same way he belongs entirely to TK. Now he’s able to just openly stare, to admire. It’s as if he needs confirmation that this is in fact real. This is truly happening.

TK stares back at him, his expression a mirror image of Carlos’. In his eyes Carlos can see nothing but love, adoration, and also hope. Predicting the future isn’t something anyone can truly do but Carlos feels safe in believing that this new road they’re traveling will lead to good things.

TK cups his face as well and leans in to kiss him once more. Carlos allows himself to surrender to the moment, to free his mind and focus solely on the feel of TK’s lips on his, their chests pressed tightly together. He can feel TK’s love for him as steady and sure as a heartbeat.

Carlos takes comfort in the knowledge that they have this moment, the memories of all the ones before it, and all those that are still yet to come.