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georgeplease · 13 days ago

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The One Where We Have to Fuck or Die

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Fred gives Reader his test vial of a new love potion for the store. They quickly realize if they don’t have sex then it’ll kill her.

Tags: Porn Logic, Aphrodisiac, fucking like rabbits, both reader and Fred are in their late 20s-early 30s

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

It started as a normal Saturday for (Y/n). She had slept in, made some breakfast, cleaned her flat, and had been getting ready to relax for the rest of the day. That was until a familiar owl had found its way to her window, dropping off a letter with her name scrawled across the front. The handwriting was all too familiar, making her roll her eyes as she retrieved it from the owl before sending him on his way.

Having met the twins in her first year at Hogwarts was a pivotal moment, developing a fast friendship with the both of them after a prank gone wrong. That fateful afternoon sparked a 12 year long friendship between the twins and her.

Yet, there was always something between her and Fred, others may say they were destined together, they chose to believe they were just really good friends. It’s part of the reason he could send a letter like this, asking for her to rush down to his shop and help him. As annoyed as she would act, she would always rush to his side.

It didn’t take long for her to get dressed and make her way to Diagon Alley, easily finding her way through the busy street to her favorite store. As (Y/n) entered the shop she turned waving to George as she passed through toward the back. The store was as crowded as it usually was for a weekend, causing her to weave through several other customers before she was able to each the employees only section. The letter she had received from Fred to come to the store said it was an urgent matter, but having known him long enough, she was positive he was lying. But yet, here she was.

Not wasting anytime, she pushed into his office, seeing him sat at his desk, feet resting as he smirked upon seeing her enter.

“Well, if it isn’t my most loyal test subject.”

“What is it now, Fred?” She asked, crossing her arms, clearly not assumed by his mood.

Standing up, Fred walked around his desk, handing her a glittery pink vial, causing her to raise an eyebrow as she grabbed it from him. Looking at it, it was clear what it was supposed to be, having seen many of the Twin’s famous love potions before.

“A love potion? Don’t you already have several different kinds?” She asked, curious as to where this was leading.

“Not just any love potion, this is specifically for our older couples. You know, to help them spicy up their lives.”

“Like Viagra?”

Fred raised an eyebrow, not understanding what that was. He quickly shrugged it off, turning back to his sales pitch. “No, no. This is better than any muggle product.” Moving behind her, he put his hands on her shoulders. “What’s the number one reason most people get divorced?” He gave a second for her to think before answering for her. “That’s right, lack of passion. Imagine how many people we could help if we sold passion in a vial. How ‘bout that?”

“Work on your sales pitch, but I do like the idea.” placing a hand in her chin, she observed the vial closely. “I figure you want me to test it?“ Looking over her shoulder she sees Fred nod. “Have you tested it on anything else?”

“Tested a few drops on some plants, didn’t kill them so it should be fine for human consumption.”

“That sounds promising.” She teased, sliding away from his grasp. “What’s in it for me?”

“Besides being so horny there’s no way you won’t have an amazing orgasm once you go home?” He teased, before continuing his pitch. “Usual price, 50 galleons and unlimited supplies if you so need it.”

Fred stuck his hand out, waiting to see if she’d take his offer. After pondering for a few seconds, she reached out with her free hand shaking it. A deal with the devil, some would say.

Uncorking the vial, she pressed it to her lips, swallowing the liquid. Luckily, he had been able to get it to taste more pleasant than his other attempts, reminding her of fresh strawberries with cream. Her eyes moved to look at the ceiling, waiting for the desired effects to happen. Awkwardly she began to look around the room to pass the time, feeling a little weird to test this kind of potion in front of her friend, but money is money. And she trusted that Fred would not kill her.

As she took a look behind him, her attention was drawn to his work station. Her eyes were drawn to the ingredients he had used, haphazardly tossed about. There were the components to making a love potion, a rather simple potion. No, what caught her eye was the other ingredients he had mixed, a good amount well known aphrodisiacs along with an odd collection of ingredients that have her an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Walking over, she got a better look at them, understanding why she felt so uneasy. Mixing these ingredients together are well known for causing the person who took the potion to die if certain conditions weren’t met.

Wide eyed, she snapped to look at Fred, her body feeling warm as she felt it begins to take effect. He seems none the wiser to his fatal error, his arrogant smirk pissing her off. Throwing the empty vial at him, she turned on her heel to face him.

“You fucking moron.” She spat, panic raising in her voice, her legs subconsciously clenching together as that heat began to grow between her legs. “You didn’t make a better love potion, you made an aphrodisiac with poison.”

Fred’s face contorted, not understanding why she seemed so ticked off. His brows pushed together, as he walked over to her, trying to better understand the situation, while also a little ticked off she had thrown the small vial at him. He began to watch her more closely than before, thinking that something about his potion had caused her reaction.

Trying her best not to act on the deep ache, she moved farther from Fred. The feeling was almost too much, her hand subconsciously moving toward her crotch, wanting to swirl circles to dull the ache. Instead, her other hand moved to hold the other one, interlocking her fingers together behind her back.

“What are you on about?” Fred asked as he moved closer.

“Fred, this potion is going to kill me. How fucking dense are you?” (Y/n) ran a hand through her hair, tugging at it to try and regain her focus as her thoughts grew more perverse.

“You’ve gone mental. Don’t tell me you never been horny before, love?” Fred teased, watching the way her face flushed like a virgin.

“I’m being serious.” She said, fanning herself as she felt her body warm up. “You’ve basically just signed my death warrant if I don’t get shagged as soon as possible.”

“So you’re saying, you need dick not to die?” He laughed, almost not taking her seriously.

“Shut up.” She spat, moving away from him as he moved closer.

“Have you gone sick in the brain?” He asks, reaching to take her temperature, which she skillfully dodged. “Honestly, woman, if you wanted me that badly you didn’t need to make up such an insane lie.”

“Fred, fucking listen to me.” She said, stepping forward and grabbing his face to look at his ingredients. “Think real hard about what these ingredients do. I know potions wasn’t your strong suit, but fucking think.”

As Fred surveyed the ingredients, he tried his best to recall his potions class. As his mind ran through all the things Snape had said, he came to the same horrifying conclusion she had come to moments ago. His head whipped around, noticing how want she looked, her eyes struggling to stay locked on his face, and the way her legs shook as they clenched together.

“Oh, I fucked up.” He mumbled, his brain racing as he tried to think of an antidote. Fred bolted from his spot, looking at what ingredients he had left. His mind was racing trying to figure out how to make an antidote before his potion killed her.

Her eyes watched him, panic rising through her body as she felt how the heat began to rise within. The potion Fred had brewed was a lot more fast acting than she was expecting. Even though her brain was being quickly consumed with impure thoughts, she began calculating how much time she had before it would inevitably kill her, but her thoughts kept getting interrupted.

Her eyes trailed down his body, wanting nothing more than to pull his trousers down and go wild with him. It felt insane, she had known him since they were teens and they had never once come close to hooking up, despite all the rumors that had swirled saying otherwise. Speaking of rumors, her mind couldn’t help but focus on the rumors of how good Fred was in bed, remembering how they spoke so highly of his ability. How the girls he did hook up with swore he was the best fuck they had ever had.

Letting out a drawn out whine, she stomped her foot, closing her eyes tight as she tried to fight back from thinking of him like that. It felt so shameful, like she was no better than a common pervert to think that way about Fred. Shaking her head, she used all her brain power to push the impure thoughts out, which she was successfully able to do.

Given the large amounts of aphrodisiacs he had mixed in, she figured they had less than 30 minutes before the effects became irreversible. No matter how fast her and Fred worked, she would still be dead before he figured the correct concoction. The only solution was that they had to have sex now. Eyes widening, she felt a new emotion besides instensely building lust, dread.

“We don’t have fucking time,” she cursed, her breathing becoming more labored as she tried to speak, “we have to do it.”

“It?!”

“It!!!” She shot back, already moving to throw her shirt off her body, exposing him to the way her chest heaved.

Fred nearly had a heart attack seeing her chest. It wasn’t like he was a virgin or anything, he had seen his fair share of tits, but this was his best friend. His insanely hot best friend he has had a massive thing for for years now, but still his best friend. His best friends who was surprisingly good at removing her clothes as fast as she can, most of her clothes now thrown about his office. His best friend who looked as if she was going to jump him any second now.

“We don’t have time for you to guess who to brew the antidote, unless you’d rather I die than fuck me.” Her voice was strained, trying hard to focus on her words than succumbing to the lust.

Fred didn’t respond immediately, causing her to look at him, worried he might just let her die rather than fuck her. Most of her clothes were already thrown around the room, she felt way too exposed for a serious moment like this. Raising her eyebrows, she shot him a concerned look, silently pleading that he wouldn’t just let her suffer for his mistake. It seemed to have knocked some sense into Fred, who quickly responded.

“Right,” he stuttered out, “you’re right.” He quickly said, beginning to unbutton his shirt, his mind racing with a million thoughts. “I am so bloody sorry, (Y/n).”

“Shut up, if you get all sad and shit it’ll be difficult for you to get hard.” She replied, trying her best to seem cold and calculated. Her thoughts were only occupied on getting this done as soon as possible, no need for feelings. “You can think of ways to make this up to me after I’m no longer dying.”

“Wait,” Fred said, making (Y/n) stop in her tracks, “let me just…” he reached over, pushing her close to him before apperating them both into the apartment above the store, right in his room. “This will be better.”

The environment from his office to his room was definitely better, no longer could they hear the muffled sounds of customers from within the store. Fred’s room was messy, clearly he hadn’t assumed this would be how his day would be going. As he threw his clothes onto the floor where the rest of his laundry seemed to end up, he tried to think of sexy thoughts to get himself aroused. But looking back at his friend, who was giving him the most fuckable bedroom eyes he had ever seen did the trick.

(Y/n) ripped off her underwear, tossing them into the room before laying on the bed, crawling backwards as she let out a shaky moan, her mind unable to fight off the lustful thoughts anymore. Her hand reached between her legs, trying to relieve some of the pressure, but only making her more needy. Some part of her felt humiliated, to be reduced this easily from a potion, no longer able to spit out any kind of insult at him as she stared up at him. All she was able to do was speak directly from her lust, not able to cover it up with any kind of quick witted reply as she normally would.

“Fuck,” she shakily moaned, her eyes then locking onto Fred’s, “need you. Badly.”

Now, here’s how Fred’s usual hook ups turn out. He charms them into his bed and then shows them how it’s done. Never in his life had he ever been lost for words, yet a situation like this rarely occurs. So you must forgive him for not knowing what to do watching his best friend of over ten years touch herself and talk to him like that.

Fred made his way to the bed, sliding in between her parted thighs. He felt like a total prat for even struggling to take control of the situation and fuck her. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Fred steadied himself, reaching down to stroke himself a few times. His cock stood tall and proud, making her clench in need as she looked down.

As he lined himself up with her entrance, he found the situation awkward given their history. She deserved better than a standard fuck, a little romance and, though he hates to say it, a little passion. Looking down at her, his hair falling perfectly over his face, he spoke.

“Can I kiss you?”

(Y/n) looked at him incredulously, already completely naked in front of him. The rational part of her brain wanted to tell him no, to keep their feelings out of this and just do what they have to to keep her from an early grave. But god, did she want to kiss him. To not feel like this decision is inevitably going to ruin your friendship.

She quickly nodded her head, her lust answering for her as she shot forward, wrapping her arms around his neck.

It should’ve been awkward, like kissing a sibling. They both should’ve hated the kiss, but instead it was electrifying. Their mouths melded perfectly together, as if they were meant to be.

As they made out, Fred got to work, rubbing the tip of his cock against her cunt, trying to coat it in her slick before he slid in. His eyes almost rolled back when he felt just got wet she already was, groaning into her mouth as his hips subconsciously pushed forward. (Y/n) whined against his mouth, her eyes screwing up as the tip of his cock bumped into her inflamed clit, mumbling out his name.

It was all too much, her body felt on fire as she began to beg him to fuck her, tears welling as the potion came to a head. Her head was swimming with lust as she felt his length press against her.

Fred began to push in, trying to go as slow as possible. God, it felt way too good to be true, as if she was meant for him the way she perfectly sucked him in. As he pulled back from the kiss, he couldn’t help but watch the way he stretched her open.

“You feel s’good,” Fred groaned as he was fully sheathed in her.

“Fred-,” her voice called out, the air from her lungs having been knocked out from the feeling. Her nails were digging into his back as she felt him bottom out, his words almost too much to hear at the same time. “Move. Move now, need it,” it would’ve sound like her usually bossy tone if it wasn’t as whiney as it had been.

His hips moved back, almost agonizingly slow before snapping forward with enough force to move her up the bed. She couldn’t tell if it was the potion or if Fred was actually this good in bed, but it was driving her crazy how good she felt. A part of her feared she may be ruined for life, that nobody else would ever make her feel this good ever again. Not that she’d ever admit that to him, his ego already too inflated for his own good.

“Need me that bad that you’ll beg for it?” He smugly spoke, his hips snapping forward to accentuate his point. “Need me to fuck you nice and hard?” He teased, clearly not feeling as awkward as he once did.

Reaching out, his finger masterfully found its way to her clit, swirling around it. (Y/n) threw her head back, loudly whining as she ground against him. Her hands went to cover her face, embarrassed that she knew the potion wasn’t entirely to blame for how horny she felt in this moment. That fucking her best friend was better than any rumor she had ever heard.

“Come on, tell me how good you feel, (Y/n).”

God, did she want to smack him upside his smug head, to wipe that grin off the cocky bastards face. But she couldn’t hide the way his words made her feel, how he cunt clenched tightly around him each time he spoke. Bringing her arm over her face, she attempted to hide from him, too flustered by his dirty talk. Nobody had ever talked to her like this and she definitely didn’t expect Fred would be the one to do so.

His hips started to slow, causing her eyes to snap open. Panic began to rise in her chest, both sides of her brain not wanting this to stop. It was a bluff, he felt way too good to stop. And he didn’t want her to die either.

“Need you to tell me how bad you want this cock.”

Exasperated by his sudden need to hear her, she let her lust driven brain speak freely. Throwing her head back, she didn’t even filter her thoughts out.

“Please fuck me, need to feel you fill me up. Feels so fucking good, Fred.” Her hips attempted to grind up against his, but felt his hand hold her down. “Wanted this, wanted to feel you stretch me out for so long.”

“You’re so bloody perfect.” Fred’s his snapped back into hers, a new sense of vigor taking over as he pounded into her. “Gonna make this pussy mine.”

His eyes met hers and for the first time they saw each other since this whole mess started. She stared up at him with her pupils blown out in lust, but with so much trust in him.

His hips stuttered as he felt unbelievably close, his mouth opening as his eyes shut, letting out a groan. “Oh, fuck. Feels so good. Not gonna last much longer.”

As he spoke, her hips began to rise, grinding against his groin as she met his thrusts. The deep need to release filling her mind to the brim. Her head moved to look at the clock on the wall, but Fred’s hand moved to stop her from looking.

“Focus on me,” he spoke, his voice deep as his hips began to hammer into her harder, “just focus on me.”

Looking into his eyes, seeing how he looked at her for the first time was eye opening. All the love and adoration he felt for her as his hips continued to pound into her made her legs lock around him, keeping him in place. Throwing her head back, her vision turned white, her voice cracking from the intensity she felt as her body tensed up around him, finally releasing.

And Fred was right, this was one of the best orgasms of her life. Mind shattering, earth breaking, pure bliss from such a tiny vial of poison.

His hips began to slow as she clenched around him, sucking him deep. Feeling him twitch inside her as he shot his load into her, his hips pressing firmly against hers as he released his seed. Her eyes clenched shut and her nails dug into his shoulder blades, hard enough to leave marks.

Unexpectedly, he leaned down, pressing a passionate kiss to her lips, his hips still pressed firmly against her. (Y/n)’s hands flew to his hair, tangling into his ginger locks as she kissed back, riding out their climaxes together.

Once the emotions came down, he rested his forehead against hers, savoring the remaining moments before he had to pull away. Looking back down, he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, then pulling out, apologizing as he saw her wince at the feeling.

As Fred pulled out, (Y/n) felt her body begin to feel normal again, no longer under the control of the potion. Between the mix of sweat and the feeling of his cum leaking out of her, she felt that her thoughts were finally hers, no longer clouded by lust. Looking over, she saw Fred running a hand through his hair, seeing him in entirely new light than before. And suddenly everything made sense to her.

All those failed dates, countless nights spent wondering why nobody ever made her feel like this. It all clicked into place in her mind.

They were both laid in Fred’s bed, staring at the ceiling, coming to terms with everything they just did. No longer with the looming threat of death, it gave them a moment to reflect on what this meant for them. It was clear that they could not ignore this and move on from it, not when they both felt the same.

Fred makes the first move, moving closer to her, doing that thing where he pokes at her head when she’s over thinking. He gets one of those smiles that just lights up the room before he speaks to her.

“Soooo… round two?” Fred half heartedly joked.

Her hands reach to grab her pillow and push it into his face, softly smothering him. She playful pulled away from his embrace, needing to run to the bathroom to clean the mess.

“Shut up, I need to get cleaned up.” She spoke, trying to sound irritated but the smile on her face betrayed her.

He playfully reached out, missing her warmth next to him as she searched the room for something to cover herself with.

“Hopefully that afternoon crowd will keep George busy, because I’m not done with you.” Fred yells after her, laughing at her embarrassment as she wrapped a blanket around her and ran down the hall to his bathroom. “I have years to make up for not doing this.”

“Yeah, you can think of ways to make up for nearly killing me while your waiting.”

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#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #fred weasley smut #writes #hp x reader #fred weasley x fem!reader

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fxstpace · 3 months ago

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the subtle art of swinging

summary: park sunghoon is the spider-man. he's also your best friend. he's also hopelessly in love with you. between fighting crime and intercepting alien invasions, park sunghoon barely has the time to confess his feelings to you. lucky for him, you've got him covered. or, five times park sunghoon tries to ask you out, and one time you ask him out instead.

⇢ pairing: spider-man!park sunghoon x fem!reader ⇢ genres: fluff, mild angst, best friends to lovers au, spider-man au, college au, attempts at comedy, idiots to idiots in love, 5 + 1 things ⇢ word count: 5.0k ⇢ warnings: profanity, mentions of violence but absolutely nothing graphic ⇢ a/n: reposted from my old blog.

ONE — THE SUBTLE ART OF SWINGING INTO A WALL

Park Sunghoon swears he isn’t trying to be stupid.

It’s just that when he sees you, his mouth dries up, the words he want to say get stuck on the tip of his tongue and he can’t force them out no matter what, he feels his brain turn to mush and his legs turn to jelly, and—

You’re laughing. At him.

All because he swung face-first into a goddamn brick wall.

You don’t even know it’s him—he has a mask made out of spandex covering his face, thankfully—but he saw you on the street, talking to the old lady who sells churros next to the sandwich place both of you love. He may have lost all directional sense after that, because one minute he’s watching you gesture animatedly while you converse with the shopkeeper, and the next he slams solidly into the brick-red compound of the building he was supposed to swing over.

At least his webbing is still intact.

Sunghoon’s pride, on the other hand? Completely, utterly shattered.

For a minute, there’s silence—a sort of muffled, hazy silence that blankets everyone, the kind that’s impossibly rare to come by in a city which never sleeps—and then every single person whips out their phones and takes pictures, giggling to themselves throughout. It’s not every day Spider-Man accidentally swings into a wall, after all.

Sunghoon can already picture the headlines: City’s Masked Superhero Can Fight Aliens But Is Apparently Blind When Confronted By A Gigantic Barricade. Or worse. He can hear J. Jonah Jameson’s voice in his head, bellowing into the cameras, “Breaking news everyone, this just in: Spidey has been caught lackin’! Is he truly good at his job or is he just a farce? We may never know.”

He peels his head off hard brick, contorting his neck to relieve all the cricks, and that’s when he makes direct eye contact with you.

He swears his heart stops beating—but it starts again in less than a second, starts rabbiting around like it always does when he sees you, before settling back down into its regular rhythm. It’s only then that he remembers his feet and fingers are still glued to the wall.

He pries them off, wincing at the hoots and hollers from the crowd, and glances at you again.

You have a few churros in your hand, wrapped neatly in butter paper—no doubt a gift from the old lady—and you have your phone in your hand. He watches your fingers fly rapidly over the screen, notices the slight tilt to your head, the way your tongue pokes out of your lips slightly, the amusement at his mishap still running through your veins.

He hears the ping of the notification through his mask before you even put your phone down.

The letters swim in front of his eyes, on the screen in front of him.

(11:36) Y/N: HOONIE!!!! u wont BELIEVE what i just saw!!!! I SAW SPIDERMAN CRASH INTO A WALL LMFAOOOO

Sunghoon winces. He should probably tell you that there’s a hyphen separating the words ‘spider’ and ‘man’, but he doesn’t want to burst your obvious elation at the city’s most prominent superhero’s accident. (Despite the fact that you’re the cause for him losing all

common sense, in the first place.)

He doesn’t get the chance to form another coherent thought before a yell from below gets his attention. Specifically because it’s your voice.

“Hey!” You have your hands placed on your waist, your bundle of churros tucked into the corner of your arm as you squint up at him. “Need some help getting down?”

Unlike the jeers of the onlookers with their phones still out, you don’t sound malicious at all. You sound genuinely concerned, as though he isn’t Spider-Man, who’s fought off a hundred different villains and rescued the earth from alien infestations. You talk to him like he’s just a regular guy who accidentally swung onto a building and now finds himself in this precarious position.

His chest warms at the thought. “No thanks!” he hollers back. “I’m good.”

He lets his feet loosen up, feels his muscles relax and then he pushes himself off the wall, letting the momentum pull him through a graceful somersault before he lands softly in front of you.

“Are you okay?” You ignore the passersby.

“I’m fine,” Sunghoon replies. “Are you okay?”

You look at him strangely, and Sunghoon can feel his cheeks heat up. “I’m not the one who almost broke my nose because I wasn’t looking at where I was going.”

Sunghoon shifts from one foot to the other, chewing on the inside of his cheek. You have a point, he supposes. He clears his throat. “Right, um. Thanks for offering to help me out.”

“No problem,” you reply easily, the corners of your lips rising upwards. “I’m glad you’re okay. Can’t have our city’s best line of defence get obliterated because of a wall.”

Sunghoon’s not sure whether he’s supposed to feel happy about the fact that you’re worried about him despite not knowing who he is or if he’s supposed to be embarrassed at you pointing out his lapse of attention.

“Listen,” he begins, feeling a rush of adrenaline surge through his veins, run its course throughout his body, and settle at his heart, “do you… maybe want to get some coffee with me? As a thank you. For offering to help.”

You raise an eyebrow sceptically. “I’m not sure that warrants a coffee date.”

“It’s not,” Sunghoon hurriedly says, heart thumping erratically, “I swear. I just want to thank you.”

You purse your lips, drawing out a sigh that’s in between contemplation and refusal. Sunghoon’s heart sinks—he knows that expression of yours all too well. “I’m sorry, Spider-Man. You’re a great superhero and I’m sure you’re a really nice person behind the mask, but… I’m actually running late for a meet-up with my best friend. I’m sorry.” You shrug apologetically. “Maybe next time.”

“Okay, uh—” Sunghoon licks his lips— “n-no worries. I’ll see you around.”

“Break a leg, Spider-Man.” You salute him with two fingers. “Not literally, but you know what I mean.”

He manages a smile, then realises you can’t see it through his mask—and then realises that the friend who’s meet-up you’re running late to is with him, so he’s going to see you again, anyway. The thought makes him smile again, this time wider, and he can feel his cheeks crinkle at the corners.

He stretches an arm out, presses his web shooter and swings onto the top of the building. Maybe he’ll have to deal with you retelling the story of how he crashed into a wall with extreme detail and lots of exaggeration, and Sunghoon should probably feel extremely embarrassed about it. Instead, he finds himself looking forward to it.

Maybe he should crash into walls more often.

TWO — THE SUBTLE ART OF ACCIDENTALLY ASKING YOUR PROFESSOR OUT

Park Sunghoon is decidedly fucked.

He’s late—unbearably so—but what else is he supposed to do if a platoon of aliens show up in the middle of his Introduction to Organic Chemistry class and he has to stop them from blowing up the president’s summer retreat? Once the situation is wrapped up and the foreign visitors agree to sign a peace treaty with earth, he’s effectively missed three classes, skipped lunch, and is currently running late to a study session you planned out after classes.

He supposes he can make up for it—he’s not sure how, but… something is better than nothing, right? He swings down in front of a flower shop, hurriedly asks for a bouquet and a box of chocolates, places a wad of money bills on the counter and swings away. The whole interaction takes place in less than fifteen minutes, but Sunghoon is in a hurry. He has a slew of texts from you, all detailing the same thing: That if he doesn’t magically appear in the next ten minutes, you’re leaving, and you better make it up to him somehow.

Sunghoon touches down on the rooftop of your university’s library and quickly removes his Spider-Man suit, stuffing it into his backpack and shouldering it. He heads down the fire escape, taking two steps at a time, and comes to a standstill in front of the Biology section of the library. It’s the least crowded part of the library, which is why you and Sunghoon have chosen it as your designated spot.

He sees you immediately and braces himself for the telltale quickening of his heart. You smile at him as soon as you spot him, raising a hand in greeting. Books and sheets of paper are scattered around the table in front of you, and your hair is messy, swept up hastily. You’re wearing your favourite sweater with the coffee stain down the front, because even though it’s not something you would wear in public, it’s still the most comfortable piece of clothing you own.

Sunghoon’s lips curl upwards on their own accord. The words form on the tip of his tongue, as they always do. He wants to tell you—he’s been in love with you since he first laid eyes on you—and it would be so easy to confess right then and there. He walks towards you.

Fate is never kind to him, it seems.

Sunghoon keeps his eyes fixed on you, which is why he doesn’t notice his Organic Chemistry professor walk right across him.

In his defence, Professor Kwon is short, with a head full of bountiful grey curls and a pink flower-patterned umbrella always tucked underneath her arm. She barely comes up to Sunghoon’s shoulders, so she’s never in Sunghoon’s line of vision unless he’s sitting down.

It’s no wonder he collides into her.

Professor Kwon lets out a startled “Ooh!”, the stack of papers in her hand flying out of grip and falling around him and his teacher like snowflakes on a winter morning. She twists her lips at him, mouth downturned like she just sucked a lemon raw, and tuts disapprovingly at him.

Sunghoon feels his cheeks blaze as he bends down and gathers all the loose sheets of paper and stacks them. He doesn’t need to look at you to know you’re gleefully watching the whole encounter. He tucks the bouquet and chocolates into the crook of his arm and hands the stack of papers to Professor Kwon, mumbling an apology.

“Well, you better be sorry,” she says, looking up and down at him—except she has to crane her neck at him to meet his eyes, and the sight is so hilarious, Sunghoon needs to stifle his laughter. Then her eyes narrow in recognition, and Sunghoon stiffens, dread pooling in his stomach.

She pauses for a minute. “Aren’t you the young man who ran out halfway through my class? Is your stomach feeling better now?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you snort and then cover it up as a cough.

Sunghoon wants to melt into the floor, pretend like he’s one of the tiles on the ground. “Yes ma’am,” he answers politely instead, hoping his voice doesn’t betray him.

“Hmm.” She scrutinises him carefully, reaching out with her free hand and pinching his stomach. “Indigestion is a serious issue, young man. Make sure you have enough ginger in your diet—it helps with your toilet problems.”

“I will, ma’am.”

“Now, how do you plan to make up for your lost lesson?”

Sunghoon licks his lips. “I’m… not sure, ma’am. I could come over for a remedial class—”

“Oh, please. You insult me.” Professor Kwon lets out a giggle. “Remedial classes are such mediaeval methods. These days teachers will let anything go for a small price. Young, handsome men like you especially…”

Sunghoon nearly chokes on his own spit. “I—”

“Just some flowers and chocolates will be fine,” his teacher waves him off good-naturedly, as though this is a conversation she has all the time. Her eyes land pointedly on the flowers and the chocolate box still tucked safely in his arms.

“Oh. Um.” Sunghoon curses his luck. He’s Spider-Man, after all—shouldn’t he get some slack? All he wants is to ask you out, and if not that, at least spend some time with you without getting caught up in outworldly situations all the time.

Professor Kwon’s expression turns serious upon noticing his hesitation. “Of course, not every teacher is as lenient as I’m being. Some would—and I’m really just throwing it out here—assign compensatory essays, or—”

He hurriedly shoves the bouquet and the chocolates into Professor Kwon’s waiting arms.

“No, ma’am. Thank you very much for being so kind to me.”

“Not a bother, not a bother,” she waves him off again, smiling thinly at him. “Anything for my students.”

Sunghoon bows and waits patiently for her to skitter away from him, finally letting out a loose breath that has his shoulders slumping forward and his head hanging dejectedly. He drags himself to your table, places his bag on the desk, and buries his head into his arms in such a way that half his upper body is spread-eagled across the wooden desk. A tired, muffled groan escapes his lips.

“Rough day?” Your voice is soft, and you tentatively reach out and gently run a hand through his hair.

Sunghoon lets out another groan in response, closing his eyes when he feels your touch. He lifts up his head and props his chin on the desk, glancing at you. You have a soft smile playing on your lips, eyes twinkling.

“You recorded all of that, didn’t you?” It’s more a statement than a question; Sunghoon has all your tendencies mapped out in his head, and you would never pass up on an opportunity to record his humiliation.

“Yup.” You grin at him, patting your pocket where your phone is stowed away. “I won’t show it to anyone, don’t worry.”

It’s a small consolation. He decides to let it slide. “By the way, the flowers and the chocolates were for you. To apologise for being late.”

“Oh.” To Sunghoon’s surprise, you sound… bashful, almost. His heart skitters at the revelation. “That’s alright. I’m not a big fan of flowers anyway. Are you hungry? You skipped lunch, too, didn’t you? We could go get some ramen.”

“That sounds good.” Sunghoon smiles wearily at you. He just hopes there isn’t another national emergency to divert his attention from you and the time he gets to spend with you.

THREE — THE SUBTLE ART OF ALMOST DATING YOUR HOMIE

Sunghoon’s not sure his roommate, Lee Heeseung, is completely normal.

He’s the only one who knows about Sunghoon’s secret identity, and Sunghoon relies on him to make up some believable reason for his often and sudden disappearances. The last time, when he had to escape in the middle of his Organic Chemistry class and that whole debacle with Professor Kwon took place, Heeseung had said Sunghoon had indigestion. He assumes his roommate has fun coming up with excuses. As long as his secret remains safe, Sunghoon’s not too concerned.

Despite all the help Heeseung has provided him with, he wants nothing more than to toss him over their shared apartment’s balcony.

For the past half an hour, he’s been consistently badgering him. Specifically about you.

“Have you told her you like her yet?”

The question drags a tired sigh out of Sunghoon’s lips. He’s hunched over his Physics textbook, scribbling down notes, and he could really appreciate some peace—but that’s not something he should expect when he lives with the human equivalent of a hamster on a wheel.

“No, Heeseung,” he reiterates, “I haven’t had the time.”

Heeseung flops dramatically across the couch. “Dude. You need serious help.”

“Do I?” Sunghoon murmurs absent-mindedly, wondering how to calculate the coefficient of friction with the variables he’s been given.

“Yes.” When he notices his roommate not paying attention to him, Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Stop doing homework, you have more important matters to attend to.”

Sunghoon finally tears his tired gaze away from the numericals printed out on the page. He locks eyes with Heeseung, barely aware of the tic in his left eye. “Like what?”

His roommate throws his hands up in the air exasperatedly. “Like Y/N! And the fact that you’re in love with her!”

“Okay.”

“This isn’t going to work. C’mere.” He gestures to Sunghoon to come sit next to him on the couch. Once he makes his way to the couch and sits next to him, Heeseung takes both his hands in his. “Consider this an intervention.”

Sunghoon leans back and lets his head fall against the couch cushions. This is going to be good.

“Okay, so,” Heeseung begins, “she doesn’t know you’re Spider-Man—no one knows that except me—but you love her, don’t you? Just walk up to her, tell her you can show her something she’s never seen before, swing her up to a rooftop somewhere, and watch the sunset with her. Tell her you love her and that you can’t live without her, and your heart beats only for her—trust me, girls love romantic stuff like that—and then tell her you’re also Spider-Man. Easy.”

All Sunghoon can do is laugh. There’s no way Heeseung is serious about this.

“I’m being serious,” Heeseung says. “How long are you going to keep hiding this from her? Y/N’s your best friend, don’t you think you should tell her that you’re basically in mortal peril every other day?”

“That’s exactly why I’m not telling her,” Sunghoon says. “What if some villain finds out she’s special to me and does something to her to get back at me?”

His friend looks dubious. “You really think that could happen?”

“Yes.” Sunghoon turns his head to look at Heeseung. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you either.”

Heeseung chews his lip thoughtfully. “I kind of see what you mean. But…” He squeezes Sunghoon’s hand once, gently. “It’s Y/N. I think she would want to know.”

Sunghoon considers it—for a brief half-minute, he actually thinks about it—and then shakes his head. “It’s better to keep her safe.”

You have the worst possible timing. (Perhaps it’s Sunghoon’s fault for having given you a spare key to his apartment.)

The door swings open and you walk into the living room, two bags of takeaway in your hand. “Guess who’s got food!”

Then you pause, survey the situation in front of you, and your jaw drops.

Sunghoon and Heeseung, both on the couch, sitting so close to each other, their knees are brushing. Sunghoon’s hands are still being held by Heeseung, the latter rubbing circles on his palm. Belatedly, Sunghoon realises what this must look like to you.

He shoots up to his feet. “Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“Oh my God.” You raise your arms. “Am I interrupting something? I’m so sorry, I had no idea! I’ll just—”

“No, wait! Heeseung and I, we’re not—”

“No, no, it’s okay!” Your repeated reassurances don’t do anything to assure him. “You guys look good together! Congratulations on graduating from cherry boy university, Hoon!”

Sunghoon lowers his head, crimson creeping up his cheeks. He turns around and faces Heeseung, who’s busy snickering on the couch. “This is all your fault.”

You look between them curiously. “Are you both dating?”

“No,” Sunghoon says at the same time Heeseung says, “Possibly.”

He glares at his friend. “No, Y/N, we are not together. Heeseung knows I like someone else.”

“You like someone else?”

There’s the barest hint of hurt in your tone, a slight hitch in your voice that Sunghoon picks up on easily. “I—yes.”

“You never told me.”

Your voice is carefully calm and you fiddle with the handle of the takeaway bags. Sunghoon winces; he takes a step forward and grabs your elbow, gently forcing you to look up at him. “I was going to tell you. I just… forgot.”

It's the worst possible excuse he could come up with. Your eyes harden. Thankfully, Heeseung swoops in. “He’ll tell you soon, Y/N. He just never has good timing.”

You poke your tongue in the inside of your cheek. “It… doesn’t matter. I brought Chinese,” you say, lips pursed into a threadbare smile, “so all that’s left is to pick the movie.”

You move into the living room and playfully poke Heeseung’s legs to make space. Sunghoon closes the door behind you, a heavy feeling in his gut.

He’s fucked up. Big time. No matter what, he can’t get the look of dejectedness on your face out of his mind.

Sunghoon decides he’s going to tell you. Somehow. Even if you don’t return his feelings, at least he’ll be free of the burden of keeping them hidden.

With new conviction in his head, he strides over to where you are.

FOUR — THE SUBTLE ART OF GETTING HIT ON

Sunghoon loves you—he really does—but despite his obvious affection towards you, he still thinks you’re acting slightly (read: extremely) delusional.

“A… Spider-Man love blog?” he asks weakly, sitting opposite you.

“Yeah!” You nod your head vigorously, obviously excited. “J. Jonah Jameson started a Spider-Man conspiracy theory blog, so I figured I need to start a blog to support Spider-Man and all his endeavours. Too much hate is a bad thing, and… well, he is kind of hot. Objectively speaking.”

Sunghoon doesn’t know whether to grimace at the fact that J. Jonah Jameson started a page on conspiracy theories about him, laugh at the fact that you want to start a blog to support him, or melt like an ice cream on a hot summer afternoon at the fact that you just called him objectively hot.

He tries to do a mixture of all three. You glance at him, concerned. “Did you just have a stroke or something?”

Sunghoon purses his lips together, going back to his usual deadpan expression. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” you say dismissively. “Well, what do you think of the blog idea?”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Sunghoon agrees. “It’s like a little Spider-Man support group. Except you aren’t suffering from addiction.”

“Exactly!” you agree, perking up even more. “That’s actually a really cool slogan, thanks Hoon.”

“No problem.” Sunghoon feels his mouth dry, but before he can second guess himself, he says, “Hey, you said Spider-Man is hot?”

“Hm? Yeah, what about it?”

“You know who else is hot?”

“Tom Holland?” Your eyes widen excitedly. “Oh, I know! Andrew Garfield!”

“No—I mean, yes but—” Sunghoon heaves out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t talking about them.”

You cock your head to the side. “Who do you mean, then?”

He takes in a deep breath, forcing his heart to calm down. “I was talking about—”

He’s about to say you when the fire alarm rings. You stand up, eyes widening—not with excitement, but with panic flaring up inside you. Sunghoon stands up too; how did he not notice something was off? The hair at the back of his neck tingles. He needs to get you out of here—now.

“Y/N,�� he says hurriedly, “you need to leave. Go out the fire escape.” He shoves you none too gently towards the fire escape, but you stumble forward and then stop.

“Hoon,” you say, and he can hear the mounting fear in your voice, “what about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he assures. A series of bangs follows his statement, and he narrows his eyes at the direction of the sound. “But you need to leave. Now.”

You open your mouth to say something, but when you hear a loud clang echo down the stairwell, you close your mouth and run towards the staircase. Sunghoon waits for you to disappear from his sight, before turning on his heel and grabbing his suit from his bag.

God, supervillains really have the worst timing. All Sunghoon wanted to do was tell you he thought you were hot, too, but that he found you more beautiful than anything else.

FIVE — THE SUBTLE ART OF EXPOSING YOUR CRUSH

Sunghoon is so, so tired.

He lands in front of a small, quiet lake in a park you used to come to with him. The ambience is perfect for when you want to spend time alone, in solitude. A family of ducks paddles gently over the water; it’s peaceful and serene—completely unlike the destruction he just had to deal with, and the turbulence currently running through his mind.

He pulls his mask off his head and runs a tired hand through his hair. Wearily, he sinks down onto the grass, feeling the cool breeze caress his skin and the rustle of the leaves of the giant tree under whose shade he’s sitting.

He blinks once, slowly, and then again, and when a duck lets out a quack, he opens his mouth and lets everything spill out, like sand pouring through an overturned hourglass.

(He’s aware he’s talking to ducks. He doesn’t care.)

“Screw this shit. I never wanted to be a hero, you hear me? I never wanted to be bitten by a stupid spider, I didn’t ask for all this—I didn’t ask for all this! God, what does a guy need to do to have some time to tell his best friend he’s in love with her?!”

His rant falls on silent ears—but then, he hears the crunch of dried leaves, and he whips around.

Your head pokes out from behind the tree trunk. “Hoon?”

“Y/N,” he breathes out, scrambling to his feet. “What are you—”

“You said you’d be right behind me!” Despite the false bravado in your voice, he can hear how wobbly you actually sound.

“I-I was. Technically.” He takes a tentative step towards you, one arm stretched out placatingly.

“You never told me you were Spider-Man!” Your voice increases in pitch steadily with each word.

“I didn’t tell you to protect you—”

“Oh my God, you were in mortal peril every day and I didn’t even know!”

“Heeseung said the same thing, but—”

“Heeseung knew all along, of course he did!”

“I only told him because—”

“And—and now you’re telling me you’re in love with me!”

“Okay, I wasn’t telling you, I was telling the ducks, but—”

“Sunghoon!” You throw your hands up in the air wildly, gaze roaming rapidly across his face. “You’re in love with me!”

He sucks in a breath sharply. “I feel like that’s not the most important thing here.”

Of all the ways he thought he would confess to you, this is decidedly not something that crossed his mind even once. He’d always pictured flowers, holding your hand, maybe even a romantic stroll down this very park. He’d certainly never imagined you’d find out about both his secrets on the same day—all while he was busy ranting about his hero complex to a bunch of birds who didn’t pay him any attention.

“Y/N,” he tries again, “please let me explain.”

You shake your head. “No. There’s nothing there to explain.”

With that, you turn away and walk past him. Sunghoon’s heart sinks. He crumples the material of the mask in his hand, feeling the cloth twist underneath his fingertips just like his heart twists into knots with every step you take away from him.

PLUS ONE — THE SUBTLE ART OF KISSING YOUR BEST FRIEND

You have Sunghoon cornered, your arms crossed across your chest and your expression stern. “You need to listen to me.”

Sunghoon gulps. It’s been a week since he accidentally let both his secrets slip, and this is the first time he’s talking to you in person since then. You’d sent him a text with a simple message. Library, first thing after lunch. Sunghoon had complied, and here he is now.

“So. Heeseung explained everything to me,” you say.

“He—he did?”

You glance at him shortly. “Yeah, he did. I… I understand why you didn’t tell me about—about your condition, Hoon. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself.”

“It’s okay,” he replies immediately. “If I found out my best friend was a secret vigilante risking his life every day, I think I’d react the same way.”

You smile at him then, and his heart jumps inside his chest. He smiles back. “But that’s not the main reason I called you here,” you continue. “What I really called you here for was…”

You trail off, looking down, and Sunghoon is hit with a sudden sense of nostalgia. Why are you being so bashful around him all of a sudden? “Was…” he gently prompts.

You swallow, lifting up your chin and looking him in the eye. “I wanted to tell you that I’m in love with you too.”

Park Sunghoon swears time stops, and the whole world comes to a standstill. The words ring in his ears, echoing inside his head. His lips part, and he stares at you, flabbergasted.

“I—Say that again.” His voice is barely more than a whisper.

He sees the flicker in your eyes, notices how you’re ready to compete with him for this. “I love you, Park Sunghoon. I don’t care about the fact that you’re Spider-Man.”

Sunghoon takes a step towards you, holding your shoulders gently, like you’re made of glass. “I love you too.”

You grin at him, your own arms encircling his waist and coming to rest on his back. “I know that.”

And then you tip your head forward and capture his lips with your own. He gasps at first, before kissing you back with equal force, one hand tugging you closer to him and the other curving around your torso.

You giggle into the kiss, and Sunghoon’s lips twitch upwards. He’s giddy, weightless, floating through the air like a feather being carried by the wind. The feeling he gets when he’s swooping through the rooftops of the city is nothing compared to the feeling of your lips slotted against his and his arms wrapped around you.

Park Sunghoon swears he doesn’t try to act stupid normally. But if it makes you smile, he’s willing to do anything.

#sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #sunghoon imagines #enhypen imagines #sunghoon x y/n #enhypen x y/n #sunghoon x you #enhypen x you #enha x reader #enah fluff #enha imagines #enha x y/n #enha x you #enhypen #enha #park sunghoon #sunghoon

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alexrosa13 · 26 days ago

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Happy Accident

Caleb x female!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: mc!reader

Note: quick one shot because I'm obsessed with this man, if you haven't noticed yet.

navigation → ||

part 2 soon...

~★~

The first one may have happened by an accident, but I would say that the other times won't be.

"I did it! I did it Caleb!" you were jumping around with a paper in your hand, the confirmation of your passed test.

"Told you not to doubt yourself." he was watching your energy raise 200 times the normal level, already used to it. You were like a little tornado, running around him, screaming in his ear, just jumping like a little rabbit ever since you came home.

"I didn't doubt myself!" you threw the paper in his direction, harmless, and it wouldn't even fall on him, but he used his evol to make it fly straight into his hand. You didn't react, continuing your happy little hopping.

"Sure, sure, cause it wasn't you who came to my room, threw yourself onto my bed, cried into my pillow asking me to help you study cause you felt... I quote 'dumb as a middle aged man'?" he dodged the pillow you threw his way, while studying the impressive percentage on the paper.

"Shut up, you were only there for the mental support." you said, picking up another pillow for your weapon.

"Yeah, by mental support you mean I was tutoring you for free." he catches the second pillow that flew towards his face, the paper lying forgotten on the coffee table before him.

"You were acting out of the goodness of your heart, what, you want some reward in return for being a good samaritan now huh?" you crossed your arms, looking at him, he stood up from the couch with a pillow in his hand, you had to raise your head to look him in the eye, but you didn't move back, not letting yourself run and giving him the pleasure of winning your staring contest.

"Well, I deserve a thank you, don't I?" he teased, throwing the pillow back onto the couch and taking a step closer to you, you had to raise your head even higher.

"Do you? I don't know." you raised your brows for a second, before staring at him with twice the intensity.

"Is that how much you care about me pipsqueak? I don't even deserve a grateful 'thank you Caleb, you're the best!'?" he mimicked your voice which actually made you crack a smile for a second .

"Thank you Caleb, you're the best!" you said sarcastically "There, happy now?" he looked at you in silence, thinking,

"Hmm no, not quite. You can do better than that." he got even closer to you, and lowered his head, his face now close to yours, never dropping the eye contact.

You huffed, rolling your eyes in 'annoyance'. You took a step towards him, your bodies centimetres away, he looked at you with a silent question, not moving, watching you.

Your face got closer to his, planning on giving him a quick smooch on his cheek but when your lips reached their desired place...

He moved his head...

Both of your eyes widen. You remained unmoving.

With your lips on his.

You didn't know what to do, back up? Continue? Run away and hide in your room? WHAT TO DO? And he had the same dilemma.

You stood there like a stone sculpture for at least a minute.

Your eyelids relaxed, your eyes half opened, both of you slowly broke the 'kiss', but your forehead touched instead, deep breaths being the only noise you heard.

You looked down, not knowing what to say, he was looking at you.

His hand went up to your cheek, raising your head softly and making you gaze into his purple eyes.

You looked at each other with a silent questions.

Taking a risk he decided what to do. He looked down at your lips, slowly closing the distance, you let him do it, you wanted him to do it.

His lips landed on yours once more, this time; intentionally. And from this moment you were lost. No thoughts in your head, just him.

You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling to the fullest, you thought about it so often before falling asleep, never expecting it to happen.

You didn't know for how long you were standing there, seconds, minutes? But the sudden noise of the front door opening made you two pull away instantly.

Both of you dropped to the couch, trying to look natural and not like you were making out a moment ago.

"Hello to you two." Gran walked in, with groceries in her hands, both of you said short greetings and smiled at her before she went to the kitchen, Caleb decided to stand up and go help her unpack everything like he always did, but you caught his hand in panic.

He looked at you with another quiet question.

"Your lips..." you whispered, gesturing at your own. He raised his hand to his mouth, wiping them once and showing you the result.

You looked in the direction Gran went, and stood up to help him wipe the rest of your lipstick from his lips.

You wiped it with your hand to the best of your ability, luckily the color came out easily.

"You can go now." you whispered again, taking a step back, but he pulled you back by your arm, planting a quick kiss on your lips before turning around to go and help Gran.

You stood there dumbfounded.

What the hell just happened.

#i need this guy like i need caffeine #caleb x reader #caleb x you #caleb x mc #caleb #caleb fluff #caleb love and deepspace #caleb l&ds #caleb lnds #caleb lads #love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #lnds

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princessbellecerise · 2 years ago

Text

Pregnancy Headcanons

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | How the House of the Dragon characters would react before, during and after your pregnancy

warnings | Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth

this is a work of fiction. i do not own these characters

divider by @princessbellecerise

Jacaerys Velaryon

Finding Out

Jacaerys has the audacity to look shocked when the Maester tells him that you’re pregnant, like the two of you haven’t been fucking like rabbits ever since you got married

No seriously—he literally freezes and just kind of…stares with an unreadable expression on his face

Just sort of wide-eyed, in shock before he finally snaps out of it and briskly walks away without another word

He’s not really sure what to do, or how to react to be honest. And it might take a few days for him to come around, but he will eventually

Bonus: Rhaenyra sees his reaction and she’s like Jacaerys, what did you expect?

And he’s like: Not this

And then she’s like: Well did you pull out? Ask for moon tea? Something??

And Jace is just like staring at her like: No? Why would I do that?

Like boy what did you expect when you literally nut inside your wife every single time

During Pregnancy

Once he does come around though, Jacaerys will be so protective. I’m talking like he barely let you out of his sight, and makes sure that everyone knows you’re pregnant

Like they can’t already tell, he’ll constantly tell people that you’re carrying his heir and that they need to be careful with you

Even the Maesters who literally know what they’re doing get a scolding by the future king if he thinks they’re being too rough

No one is allowed to get too close to you and if they do, Jace will always have one hand on his sword just in case he needs to defend you

He will even better himself at sword fighting, pushing himself to the limits during the hours that he’s not with you so that he can always be prepared

For Jacaerys, you being pregnant is sort of like a wake-up call for him, a chance for him to finally rise to his responsibilities and become a bit more serious

He understands the weight of being king now and for Jace, he’ll want to put away all childish things so that he could become the man you and your child need

Giving Birth

Oh my god he’s so supportive

I’m talking like this is a man that will get behind you and physically hold you while you push

Despite what anyone says, he will be there for the birth of his child and he will be so soothing

Holding you, kissing you, kissing your neck to calm you down, taking the cloth from the Maester and wiping the sweat off of your forehead

Jacaerys’ support of you never ends and he’s constantly telling you how proud of you he is even while you’re screaming your lungs out

He’ll help you breathe and let you squeeze his hand till you break it if that’s what you so desire

Calling you his brave girl and letting out teary laughter when your baby is finally delivered

After Birth

When your child is born, it’s like fatherhood is something Jacaerys is born for

He’s a natural; knowing exactly what to say and how to raise your children even if you are still figuring it out

Seriously, it’s like he has a cheat code or something

If the two of you have a boy, then Jace won’t hesitate to start grooming him to be king and unlike most father’s, he is very involved in his son’s upbringing

Jacaerys will be the one to teach him how to hold a sword, how to ride a horse and a dragon. Jace will be there for his son every step of the way no matter how improper it may seem

Likewise, if he has a daughter, he will be entirely overprotective

If you thought it was bad when she was in the womb, just wait until Jace takes one look at his baby girl

Suddenly, he’s terrified to let her out of his sight; sometimes even holding her on his knee during council meetings. She likes to play with the marble and Jace tries so hard to keep a straight face while also wrestling it out of her hands

Everyone at the meeting will try and pretend like they don’t hear her babbling and like it’s not the cutest thing ever while they’re talking about literal war

Overall, Jace would be prepared to defend you and your children to the death if need be, and he would be such a stern but loving dad

Lucerys Velaryon

Finding Out

Luke doesn’t even notice that you haven’t gotten your moon blood for several months and neither do you, until one day a servant happens to say something and you’re both like: oh shit

Since you both are still quite young you’re not really supposed to be having heirs at the moment. Like Rhaenyra specifically told this boy to not get you pregnant just yet and now he’s terrified of telling her

So yeah, it was an accident and Luke is so nervous he’s literally shaking when the Maester confirms it

But sweet boy, he will do his very best to remain calm and will put on a brave face for you

He’ll act like he’s not scared as well at the prospect of having children so young but on the inside he’s freaking out. He’ll hold your hand tightly and give you kisses to calm you down, keeping his voice from shaking to seem brave

During Pregnancy

Even though it’s a little too soon for the both of you to become parents, Luke will slowly become excited at the prospect of becoming a father

Like he’s so proud, growing to love his child before you’re even four months along

He decides right then and there that he’ll do anything to protect you and his child and swears that no harm will ever come to either of you

While you’re pregnant, Luke will take on every single responsibility so that you won’t be stressed out. He always has you relaxing and content while he deals with all of the hard stuff

And yeah, over the course of the months he will find himself growing up a little

Maybe a little bit too fast, much his mother’s sadness, but Rhaenyra can’t help but love the look of pride of Luke’s face every time he touches your belly. And neither can you

You love when Luke rubs your son or daughter and you especially love when he blows raspberries on your stomach, giggling every time while he coos to the baby or talks to them in High Valerian

It’s a such a sweet moment to witness and many people, sometimes even Daemon, catch themselves smiling or smirking at you and the young prince

Giving Birth

Okay, so Lucerys is now back to being scared shitless

It all started on the day you delivered your child, with Luke sweating and pacing outside of your room while the Maesters attended to you

Your screams severely upset him and he kept pacing back and forth in the hallway, peeking in the room and desperately trying to get a glimpse of you before the Maesters pushed him out

He wants to be there for you so bad, especially since it’s your first pregnancy and you’re crying your eyes out for him

Eventually, he’ll just have to say damn it and force his way in, gathering his courage for his wife. And even though the Maesters tell him that it’s highly improper, he’ll ignore them and will hold your hand the entire way

Whispering sweet praises in your ear and stroking your back while Rhaenyra or your own mother loudly encourages you

He’ll be so worried up until the moment he hears that first cry, and that’s when everything just melts away for Luke and all he can feel is happiness when the Maester hands you your child

After Birth

After your child is born, you and Luke are the absolute best parents

You’re both soft and gentle with your baby, and you’re glowing in a way that Luke just absolutely loves

Both of you have immense pride for your son or daughter and you fall in love immediately despite not even knowing if you were ready yet

You just…jump in and honestly it’s not so bad for you and Luke once your bundle of joy finally gets there

Lucerys especially is thrilled, winning the best dad award for always playing with your child or making up silly games to make them laugh

You love watching him interact with your baby because he’s just so good at it and he doesn’t even realize it

Sometimes, he’ll confess his insecurities that he might not do a good job at raising your kid and you literally have to be like: hold up. Luke you’re doing amazing already

He’d be scared and terrified on where this new adventure would lead but honestly, Lucerys has never been happier and in the end it would all work out

Also, he totally gets so excited when you let him pick out an egg for the baby, just like he did for his brothers

It’s almost like it’s tradition, and every single time Luke knows exactly the right one to choose

Aemond Targaryen

Finding Out

If you’re nervous to tell Aemond, then don’t be

Nine times out of ten he’s so perceptive that he’ll put it together himself and Aemond will be over the moon

He will not stop smiling the entire time the Maesters confirm it, pressing a hand to your stomach and kissing your belly

His reaction kind of throws you off a little bit because you’ve never seen him so excited in his life, but he reassures you that he’s been waiting so long for this moment and now he’s just ecstatic that it’s finally here

During Pregnancy

While you’re pregnant, Aemond hardly ever lets you leave your bed chambers. Nor does he let anyone other than your family or Maesters near you

He’s just so protective and he’s paranoid that something’s going to happen so he wants you to be safe at all costs

He definitely does his own research because it’s not like he distrusts the Maester’s, he just wants to be sure that he knows what they know and more about childbirth in case he has to step in

God forbid your baby won’t come or is stuck upside down—two common themes for Targaryen children. Aemond reads all about it so that he knows different ways of getting the baby out or repositioning it without hurting you

He’ll also read about different birth techniques and decides to teach you to make your labor easier

Making you drink raspberry tea, take walks or stretch to lesson your pain when the time comes

You have to admit, you’re a bit shocked when your husband comes to you and makes you start doing breathing exercises with him

After all, who would have thought Aemond of all people would be so involved and so devoted?

It definitely warms your heart to see though—and no matter how much you want to wave him, you always end up letting him help you because you trust your husband you know more than anything he has yours and your child’s best interests at heart

Giving Birth

Aemond will respect your privacy and will wait outside during your labors, but you better believe he’ll be right there

Listening to every scream and every detail just in case he feels the need to step in

If you really want him to be there, he absolutely will be in a heartbeat. And if anybody tries to stop him he’ll venomously tell them to get out of his way before pushing them aside

As much as he loves his incoming child, majority of Aemond’s focus will be on you and your safety

He’ll make sure everything is going smoothly before he even thinks about celebrating and only then will he finally start to smile, a grin like no other taking over his face when your baby is finally placed in his arms

After Birth

Aemond is a caring yet trusting father

He knows that if his child came from you, they’ll already grow up to be exceptional so he allows them to grow into their own person

He doesn’t hover, but he does care. A lot

He may not show it in every way but if your child wants his attention, they’ve got it. If they want to play with him, he absolutely will. If they want to be comforted? He’s there. They tell him they want some space? Then Aemond is in the next room over, ready to talk when they are

In a way, your children are way for Aemond to heal his own self. To be there as a parent like his never were

Early on, Aemond already swore to you and your babe that he would never abandon you or ignore you when you needed him most

He swore to break the curse his parents placed on him so he is very involved with his kids

He’s also very protective, especially considering what he went through in his childhood. He never wants his child to feel left out so Aemond will go searching for a dragon egg pretty early on

You better believe that thing is burning HOT until the moment it’s ready to be placed in your child’s cradle

And Aemond swears

He swears by the old gods and the new that if they allow his child to have their own dragon he would never commit another sin again, if that’s what it took

And sure enough, Aemond is beyond relieved when your babies egg hatches—the widest grin ever overtaking his face as the baby dragon prances about

You swear—you sometimes joke that it was Aemond’s fiery gaze on the egg that hatched it and not nature

And while that very well may be true, Aemond is just grateful nevertheless that even if he wasn’t delt the best cards, he sure would find a way to rig the game for his children

Anything just to make them happy

Daemon Targaryen

Finding Out

You wish you could say that after having two children of his own, your husband would recognize the signs of pregnancy

But unfortunately Daemon is not a man that concerns himself with that kind of stuff so it’s the Maester that points it out to him

And at first, Daemon is stunned

Like okay—he knows that he never pulls out and that the two of you go multiple rounds a day but pregnant?

He thought that your tits getting bigger was just, well, a huge blessing for him

He can hardly believe his ears or that he’s going to have more children

Briefly, he jokes that he may as well start breeding his own army which causes you to punch his arm

Joke aside though, Daemon is really happy and he will shower you with kisses, laughing slightly at how his seed must be extra strong to stick so fast

During Pregnancy

Daemon is not really much help himself, expect for when it comes to massages or warm baths

Almost every night, to ease your discomfort, your Lord husband will bathe you which is oddly intimate for him, or he will massage your feet and shoulders to soothe some of the pain

Of course, your other activities will remain as well which helps a little the closer you get to birth

Mostly, Daemon will be ordering Maesters around or just simply asking you of your progress from time to time

He really hopes for a boy secretly, and sometimes while you’re sleeping or just barely awake, he will rub your stomach and whisper sweet phrases in High Valerian

Expect Daemon to also already have the names of his children picked out, boy or girl

He might even ask Baela or Rhaena their opinion and let them choose an egg from Caraxes

If he has to be somewhere else where he cannot physically look after you, he’ll also entrust his daughters to keep them informed and up to date on your condition

Giving Birth

Daemon is outside, on the balcony while your screams reach his ears

Truth be told, it’s too much. He can’t be there as much he wants to be—as much as you surely need him to be

After witnessing Laena’s death, childbirth has become quite traumatizing for Daemon so he prefers to remain outside, waiting until a Maester or one of his daughters come to fetch him

Of course, Baela—ever her father’s daughter—scolds Daemon a bit and reminds him that every lady wife needs her husband during such times

But Daemon will not budge, not until Rhaena comes to the balcony with an unreadable expression on her face

At first, Daemon is terrified. He stands, the breath freezing in his lungs as he tries to decipher what that might mean. Your screams had died down…perhaps…

Daemon stands, his heart clenching in chest as he begins to possibly grapple with another untimely death of the one he loved. He prepares himself, but then a wide smile grows on Rhaena’s face and Daemon knows all is well

“My sibling is here. It is healthy, father.”

That’s all Daemon needs. And suddenly, he’s tearing himself away and down the halls, straight to your room where he walks in on the sight of your smiling face and the glowing cheeks of his newborn child

After Birth

You like to give Daemon the benefit of the doubt and say that he spends an equal amount of time with his children

Of course, maybe a little bit more attention towards the baby since he or she does need Daemon more than his adolescent children, but as your child grows up pretty much everything is the same

Baela and Rhaena absolutely adore their new sibling and vice versa. They may be a bit older but you’ll always find the three of them playing together or one of the girls reading them a bed time story

It always warms your heart to see them bond, and Daemon’s too

Though he’ll never admit it, his favorite thing to do is spy on his children and eavesdrop as the girls help the youngest with their Valerian

Or when the three of them are together, somehow still fitting on his lap and Daemon teaches them the history of their house while you sit in the background, smiling

It’s special moments like those that remind you that while you may have married a morally grey man, his number one priority would always be his family

And you know more than anyone that with Daemon around, the five of you would never have anything to fear

#jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #hotd x reader #hotd fluff #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #hotd

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thewickedjazzy · 4 months ago

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Level 1: "Taste" [Erotic Asphyxiation] For Kinktober.

ᡣ𐭩osamu dazai x afab! reader.

ᡣ𐭩Synopsis: four years have passed since you last saw dazai, but now your ex is back in the port mafia basement, dragging you back into the rabbit hole of affairs that you thought you left behind.

ᡣ𐭩Warning: nsfw mdni 18+ content, smut, sub! dazai, dom! reader choking/erotic asphyxiation, degrading, edging, orgasm control, mention of cum, cowgirl position, not proofread..etc.

ᡣ𐭩Word count: 2k.

ᡣ𐭩-check Kink Coin to unlock bonus fics´-

you pinch the bridge of your nose, making it clear that your patience is wearing thin. unbelievable. of course, it’s him—your ex, the one who abandoned both the mafia and you without a second thought. but even with everything you know about him, you never imagined he’d stoop this low.

in front of you sits the former demon prodigy, osamu dazai, hands cuffed to the chair in the port mafia's gloomly lit basement. the strangest part? no one had captured him. all you know is that one of the lower-ranked mafiosos had interrupted you in the middle of “interrogating” a particularly troublesome target, telling you that someone is waiting for you downstairs. handcuffed and refusing to leave until he sees you. and that’s how you ended up here.

it was a bad idea. why would you agree to meet someone who willingly gets themselves into the port mafia basement playing the victim? it's risky, especially not with your reputation—admired and feared in equal measure. you should’ve turned back the moment you stepped into the room, but curiosity got the better of you.

“that's absurd,” you sigh, crossing your arms. “why would you go through all this when you know i've already buried us in the past?”

his honey-brown eyes that you once adored meet yours, and despite everything, that familiar smirk pulls at his lips—the same one that used to make your heart race, but now it only irritates you to no end.

“you’re underestimating yourself, sweetheart,” he purrs. “you may not want anything to do with me, but I know for sure that you still miss me as much as I do”

you narrow your eyes, taking a step closer. “you don’t get to say things like that anymore, asshole!” you snap. “you gave up that right the moment you walked away.”

he chuckles lowly, eyes fixed on yours as if savouring your every move. "you really think i gave up on you? on us? never.."

your fingers twitch at his insinuation, irritation boiling in your chest—how dare he!! — and before you even realize what you're doing, you move to close the distance between you, gripping the collar of his beige coat and yanking him forward. his breath hitches slightly, but that stupid smirk stays plastered on his face, his eyes still locked onto yours, amused?

“bullshit!” you growl, pushing him back against the chair with enough force that the wood creaks under the pressure. “you’re delusional if you think i'd fall for your games again.”

“i’m not here to play games, baby. i came here because... I made a mistake.” his smirk fades, and for a while, you hesitate, torn between anger and love? something you’ve buried deep since the day he left. but you can’t let yourself fall for this again, can’t let him back in after everything.

“I don’t need your apologies, osamu. I’ve moved on.”

“doubt it” he chuckles lightly,“you're still calling me osamu...doesn't sound like someone who's truly moved on.” his sick smirk curls back.

without warning, you shove him again against the chair, your fingers trail up to wrap around his throat, thumb pressing down just enough to restrict his air.

dazai doesn’t flinch, if anything, his mouth parts, and a strained, breathless sound escapes—somewhere between a moan and a groan.

“stop it,” you snarl, leaning in close enough that your breath skims his ear. “I'll kill you if i have to.”

the way his adam's apple bobs beneath your hand when he swallows tells you everything you need to know. his head falls back slightly, offering more of his throat, as though inviting you to take everything. his hips shift subtly in the chair, and you almost laugh at the realization.

“oh... you still enjoy this?,” you snarl, fingers digging into the delicate skin of his neck as you feel his pulse hammering beneath your touch. his eyes flutter, pupils blown wide, “sick bastard...”

you can see the bulge straining against his pants twitching beneath the rough fabric, “...i know you very well. you think you can just fuck your way back through anyone and anything.” you growl, leaning down until your lips hover over his. “filthy womaniser”

“—you think I care about those women?” he gasps for air, his hips shifting beneath you as if to prove his point,“they were nothing. filthy, meaningless distractions...none of them mattered, none of them were you.”

you grit your teeth, but before you can reply, you feel something shift. his hands?—his cuffed hands—are no longer bound. a soft gasp escapes you as his fingers press against your lower back, pulling you forward with a sudden, fluid motion. you didn't even notice. when did he undo the cuffs? your mind races, but the thought quickly slips away as your body drags closer, your thighs with your short black skirt spreading wide over his hips, now straddling him.

your eyes widen for a moment, but the way he's staring up at you, eyes filled with lust? longing? as if he's been waiting for this moment his entire life. the teasing, bratty glint still in his eyes as he leans in, his lips brushing the corner of your mouth. “i miss you,” he whispers, “please...just one kiss, let me taste you one more time.”

your breath hitches as he draws closer and you can feel how desperate he is, his longing wraps around you like a warm blanket. his long, slender fingers graze your back, the gentle caress making you forget everything he did. his eyes, half-lidded pleading for you to close the distance, to say yes, to lean into his touch.

as he leans in, his pretty lips capture your lower one, teasingly pulling you closer. a muffled moan escapes him as he finally tastes you again, gets lost in you again, stirring emotions that you fought really hard to suppress.

his soft tongue darts out, exploring every inch of your mouth, and you can’t help but kiss him back, grinding against his clothed, hard cock.

your lips part for a moment as he pulls away slightly, “fuck...I missed the way you taste" he murmurs, his tongue brushing your parted lips softly eliciting a soft mewl from you.

you can't take it anymore, the flood of desire makes your brain short-circuit, your senses heightening, you want him again, want to feel him again, without think you yank his pants and boxers down just enough for his cock to spring free. it’s already leaking, rock-hard, twitching at the slightest movement of your hips as you position yourself over him.

you push your panties aside, and before he can say another word, you sink down onto his cock, taking him in one swift motion. he gasps, his entire body tensing as his hands fly up to grip your hips even harder. the stretch of him filling you is perfect, god, you miss how his delicious cock used to fill you up so perfectly. you can’t help but let out a low moan as you begin to ride him. his eyes flutter shut, and his head lolls back against the chair, soft involuntary whimpers escaping him. you catch his lower lip trembling, his jaw slack, utterly fucked-out beneath you.

you yank him forward by his hair, forcing him to keep his eyes on you. “don’t look away, asshole. i want you to watch while i use you.”

a needy whimper escapes his lips as you set a punishing pace, riding him hard and fast. every thrust drives him deeper inside you, the slick sounds of your bodies moving together filling the room and you can feel his warm cock twitch inside your velvet walls with every movement.

his body trembles, hips jerking uncontrollably as he teeters on the edge, barely holding on. “please—baby...i can’t—i need—nnghh..”

“you came here cuffing yourself like a good boy huh? nghh hoping i- ahhh would break you?” you coo in his ear.

his hips jerk up bouncing into you in response to your words chasing his release, but you don’t stop. you ride him mercilessly, heat building inside you signalling that you're too close. finally, when you feel his cock twitches inside you, threatening to spill at any second, you lean down, tearing off the bandages around his neck. you wrap your fingers around his exposed throat, choking him just the way he likes it.

his breath catches in his throat, eyes rolling back, a blissed out expression settling on his face.

his hips jerk up faster, slamming into you, you can’t help but match his rhythm, riding him harder, taking every inch of him as he drives deeper inside you. the tight grip on his throat sends waves of tingles and pleasure through his entire body, drool slipping from his parted lips. in a feverish moment, you catch his mouth with yours, tongues tangling as your spit mingles together, the taste of him making your belly sink in pleasure, you would never admit how much you crave him, four year— four fucking years.

“don’t stop—mngh—fuh-k mmph..yes yes i'm close—” he gasps, zoning out everything else except how your walls feel tightening around him, you continue to match his pace, but just as he's about to cum, you suddenly stop, lifting your hips so his cock slips free from your slick heat, enjoying the way he now whimpers in desperation.

“n-no- no, no... nghh.. why did you mmph..let me cum please, let me cum inside you, it hurts”

you tighten your grip on his throat, a chuckle escaping your lips as his hips buck up, instinctively chasing after your warm folds once more. “mmph..pathetic”

“no n-o, i’ll do anything—just don’t tease me like this. need to feel you around me, pleas-e..ahh!” his words turn into a moan as you squeeze his throat a bit more tighter, making his eyes roll back.

“then beg for it,” you command, your tongue trailing along the sensitive skin beneath his ear “show me how much you want it.”

he bites his lip, fighting against the urge to thrust upwards again. “please,” he gasps, lips trembling “please...i can’t hold on any longer—just let me cum inside you baby please..”

his hips buck again, more insistently this time. and with that, you sink down onto him slowly, relishing the way he gasps at feeling your slick tight walls swallow his cock,. “mngh...now, move for me,” you purr, your grip still firm around his throat.

he digs his fingers into your hips harshly, bouncing into you with fevered speed, each thrust brushing against every sweet spot you crave as he whimpers like a bitch in heat, feeling the pleaure build up once again. “fff—uhck—i’m ngh...so close!” he hisses, chest heaving with breaths to fill his burning lungs.

his last thrusts take your breath away as he thrusts up deep inside of you. the only sound left is your shared gasps and moans as he cums, coating your insides.

his jaw go slack as his release hits hard, muffling his cries as his eyes roll back, spilling deep inside you. he shudders beneath your touch, his hips bucking wildly as he rides out his orgasm.

you don’t stop riding against him, milking him for every last drop, and it’s only when his entire body goes numb, trembling and panting, that you finally slow down.

“you always come back, don’t you?” you murmur with a shaky breath, releasing your grip on his throat. “even after everything we’ve done to each other.”

“i can’t help it,” he breathes out,“every time i try to walk away... i find myself right back here... with you.”

even though you wish every inch of your body wouldn’t react to his words, you can’t help but feel the tingles run down your spine—he’s twisted, messed up even, but he never fails to pull you back in.

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguro @writingandmusing @thedamselzelda @corruptedwrathkitsune

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randomgurl2326 · 1 year ago

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Adam Relationship Headcannons

SFW

You two met after the whole Lilith and Eve debacle

You were sent to be his Guardian Angel down in the Garden of Eden. Honestly, he couldn’t care less about Eve when he first saw you

He was in the middle of the garden, talking to Eve and then you show up… man’s whipped. Simp I tell you

(Actually wished that you were made to be his wife instead of the baddie Lilith or the goodie-two-shoes Eve)

Again. Whipped.

Now, tho is guy… whewww. He may seem incredibly misogynistic to practically everyone around him. But he can be a total sweetheart

He would—if you didn’t know how to already—teach you how to shred on the guitar

Speaking of guitars, that gold strat that he had during the battle in the last episode is only used during a special occasion (case and point, when you two have a date night or after sex)

He also serenades you every chance he gets

After dinner

After a meeting

After sex

After just walking the goddamn promenade

I also think he would be heavenly (ha! See what i did there? No? Okay…) in the kitchen. Especially for date night. Adam knows how to make the best prime rib in heaven

(Lute totally hasn’t tried to blackmail the recipe out of him)

Adam is also very insecure about how he looks under his mask

Especially after having two wives ditch him for Lucifer

He definitely needs to be praised on a daily basis, even if it seems like he’s an egotistical asshole

Every day you tell him how handsome he is and he doesn’t believe you (c’mon have you seen him fuckin’ hot)

You two sometimes don’t see each other days on end because you both work so much. You being a high-ranking Angel/seraphim and him being well… the first man on Earth

If you guys go especially long for not seeing each other, you guys hole up a few days in your shared home spending time with each other among other things…

By the way, you and Lute are best friends, probably more than her and Adam

Like, seriously, if you’re not with him, you’re with her. Gossiping or fucking around, it’s heaven, there’s infinite things to do

You two are also very lovey dovey with each other

One time Sera had cover Emily’s eyes with her wings because you two were making out and feeling each other up in the middle of the Heavenly Court Room

Despite all of his faults, he’s a good husband to you, a great one actually. And if you two were to ever have kids, he’d definitely be the dad who everyone loves

He would introduce them to rock, punk, metal.

Definitely plays his guitar to get them to sleep every night

NSFW

Okay… he want lying about being the Dick Master. He can pleasure women, that is not a problem for him

Also, it might not seem like it, but he loves going down on you. Probably one of his favorite pass times actually

I swear, this man could make you scream his name within minutes. No joke

Don’t get me wrong, he loves receiving head

But just not as much as he loves eating pussy (Lilith and Eve missed out on that one for sure)

He also has a bigger dick than average

Probably 6-7.5 inches in length and hella girthy. Uncircumcised (duh), and a vein that runs up the bottom of it

Definitely knows how to use it

Every one within a five mile radius of your guys’ house… let’s just say I feel really bad for them

No joke, he is insane about pleasuring you

This probably also feeds into his insecurity about you leaving him (you won’t)

He for sure has a praise kink. Seriously, tell him he’s a good boy and he’s unraveling under your touch instantly

His favorite position is cowgirl (what can he say, he loves powerful women)

But he’s down for whatever position you want; missionary, warrior, against a wall, whatever

Speaking of wall sex, Lute has definitely caught you two more than once

The first time she did was when you two were in Adam’s office while he was supposed to be planning the next extermination. She came to ask him a question about it and there you two were. Goin’ at it like rabbits on the wall next to his desk

She couldn’t look you guys in the eye for three weeks. It was terrible

Adam also doesn’t seem like the type of guy to have sex toys or feel the need to use them

But, again, he’s whipped. So he’s willing to do whatever you want to do

Wont admit this to anyone but you, but he likes to sub every once in a while. Especially with all the ‘first man’ stuff weighing down on him he needs a way to get away from all that stress

Despite him making crude jokes about sex, he’s a very giving partner in bed

He had to make sure you cum at least twice before he gets his dick wet

Also, have I mentioned how good he is at eating pussy? Oh, I have? Yeah, well, he is (especially with that tiny bit of stubble on his chin… gahhh)

Just needed to get it out there

All in all, Adam is a very giving person in bed, can be selfish at times but will make up for it. He loves you too much for you to feel mad or upset (especially with him)

A/N: this was my first time writing for Adam and Hazbin in general. I hope you liked it. I love you all💚💜

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ataraxiaspainting · 6 months ago

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The Floor is Breathing.

Yan Overhaul x F Reader.

Synopsis: You feel like both the witness and the victim in an uncommitted crime.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, manipulation, stalking/non-consensual recording, mentions of binge eating, and some infantilization.

Word Count: 1k.

*~*~*~*

You can swear that these white walls blink.

Something, somewhere here, has eyes that look you up and down – you feel its breath on the back of your neck when you fall asleep facing a wall, the only decorated wall you have ever seen in this facility, actually.

You’re not crazy. You have to remind yourself day in and day out of that fact, but you’re not crazy; you know another living being is in here with you, watching attentively.

Overhaul – no, “Kai” is what he forces you to call him now, says that there are no cameras in your room, but your gut screams otherwise.

You asked if he was sure, once, two days or four days, or six days ago – it should still be recent as you did not feel as isolated as you do now – and he responded by saying if he really wanted to keep a closer eye on you, he would just become your new roommate.

You’re unsure as to if that was a threat. He seemed happy when those words came out of his masked mouth, so perhaps it was just some unfunny gest. He made those sometimes, especially when he tries to coax you into taking vitamins every mealtime. Those jokes were as dull as the light brown and white pills piled up in a little cup meant for dipping sauces. Perhaps it was repurposed or Kai had ordered some from somewhere or he has some restaurant under his control somewhere.

Somewhere so dirty and filled with sugar and oils and artificial coloring. You’d die for just a sniff of pizza being served at an all-you-can-eat buffet or deep-fried cakes being served at a pop-up carnival. If health inspectors didn’t approve of such spots, or at the very most give them a C rating, then Kai wouldn’t go within two blocks of them. Much less let you. You’d stuff yourself to the brim like it is your last meal and compared to the boiled chicken and rice and broccoli you were given daily, chips and cookies may as well be.

A call of your name makes reality come back faster than a slap to the face – and hurts just as much.

“I asked you something, sweetheart. What do you want to do today?” Kai asks.

He didn’t seem angry or irritated as he repeated himself. His voice was still soft and the way he taps his foot against the pastel pink heart carpet reflects that. Times like these almost make you wish you were deaf. The words feel rehearsed but also feel as though they are straight from the heart like the actor was passionate enough in reciting their lines or was grossly in love with the story of the show.

“I don’t know,” Unlike Kai, you forget your script quite often – aside from that one saying.

“You don’t know?” He’s still smiling. You know it.

“No.” You murmur. He puts an elbow on the small white table, stabilizing his head with his gloved hand. “I don’t.”

“I have some ideas,” The feeling of dread makes your stomach drop. Or was it your heart? Lungs, perhaps? You don’t know how to breathe right now, after all.

“I… don’t know, Kai.”

“You said that already.”

For your sanity, you choose to look at your freshly remade bed instead of his eyes. The rabbit plush you were given on your third or so day here lays alone on top of your singular pillow. The bars surrounding the sides reminded you of a crib. You’re only allowed to put your legs over the railing when Kai comes to your room in the morning and you’re not allowed to get out by yourself; he grabs your hand to assist you.

“Do you want to know what my ideas are?”

You’re not allowed to say no to anything Kai suggests. It’s an unspoken rule, unlike the ones for your room. “Um… okay…”

“Well,” Kai begins, his other arm being laid out on the table. His palm is facing upwards and you know what that means.

Your hand moves towards his – you try your best not to flinch this time in response to his slight grip, but you fail.

Kai chooses not to notice it for now. Just a small treat for this morning’s hug.

“I was thinking we could go to my office. Just for a change of scenery.” His thumb moves back and forth across your knuckles. “We could bring your colored pencils or your book if you’d like. It’s still noon, so we have some time before your daily check-in.”

“Okay…”

*~*~*~*

You had opted for your book in the end, although you regret your choice now because two of the four walls in Kai’s office have windows, and just outside of them were uncrowded streets that lead up to small hills on either side. The hue of the grass was off – a dull brown – but considering it was about time for autumn to roll around, you didn’t judge. Not that you could, anyway.

Could you ask to go back and get your colored pencils? You attempt to dismiss the thought by imagining future possibilities. Kai seems to be working on his computer right now though, and the guards outside wouldn’t let you leave by yourself anyway.

To hell with it, you think. It’s fine. He won’t get mad.

At least… you hope so.

You walk over slowly until you are nearly touching his left shoulder. “Can I please get my colored-”

It’s you, from different angles and at different times of day – even some videos of you before you were kidnapped. They are of you sleeping, of you eating, of you looking under your bed. They are of you putting on socks, of you microwaving dinner after a long workday, of you talking on the phone with friends for hours. They are long and short – you can see some of them even repeat. Oh fuck. Is there a camera in this room too, or-

Before you can continue analyzing, Kai slams his laptop shut.

“Go back to reading, sweetheart.” It’s an order – you know it from the way he does not blink and the way his arms cross. He didn’t want you to see his screen; that fact is as clear as a cloudless sky. “You can color another day, okay?”

#self indulgent friday #but on sunday #i guess????#overhaul x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere overhaul #yandere overhaul x reader #kai chisaki x reader #chisaki kai x reader #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere mha x reader #yandere bna x reader #yandere my hero academia x reader #yandere my hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia x reader #author aya

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gilverrwrites · 7 months ago

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Summer Loving

Ft. Bruce, Dick, Jason, Roy, & Tim.

AN: Have a lot of lengthy and/or smutty wips on the go atm and I can feel them bogging me down a bit, so I decided to take a break and work on some short summer themed slice of life/domestic fluff to cleanse my palate. I feel I must apologise for my gratuitous and obvious Roy Harper thirst but I wont, enjoy!

CWs: Some are more suggestive than others, reader discretion advised. Minor swearing and minors swearing, mentions of alcohol. GN! Reader

Bruce: Tan Lines

It’s moments like these where you wish Bruce didn’t have to spend his nights on the endless pursuit of justice. You knew what you’d signed up for, but you’d missed him all day and god, the feel of his strong fingers massaging after sun into your skin was euphoric. Would you be such a bad guy for trying to convince him to stay home?

“I like this.” His hum pulls you from your train of thought, and you look down to see his fingers trailing against the tan line your shorts had caused. He spares you a quick suggestive glance, the look a wolf might give a rabbit it’s particularly fond of before dipping down to replace his hands with his mouth.

“Ohhh, stay home tonight Brucie?” The look he gives you this time maintains its warmth but there’s an air of warning to it. Despite his simmering combativeness, you add a charming “Please?”

To that he lifts his head, just far enough to deny you of his lips, but close enough that his low voice still seems to reverberate through your body as he speaks. “Crime doesn’t take the night off, neither can I.”

“I know.” You sigh, admitting defeat before the battle has even begun, and he rewards you by assuming his barrage of kisses to your lower body.

“Just don’t go out too early.” You advise, trailing the tip of your finger from ear to ear, estimating the line where his Batman cowl ends. “Don’t want to get any tan lines of your own.”

“Trust me.” There’s humour in his tone now as he works his way upwards, ghosting his 5 o'clock shadow along the skin of your stomach as he prowls closer. “The evening is young, and I have plans for you yet.”

Dick: A/C

The A/C is broken. Again. To combat the heat the whole household has resorted to wearing nothing but their underwear, except of course for Haley who is always naked. Lucky dog.

Additionally, all the windows are open in an attempt to let the cool night air circulate the humid apartment but all it’s really doing is letting in the ambient sound of Blüdhavens boisterous nightlife and countless flies.

“Want one?” Dick asks from the kitchen spaces as he digs into his second ice pop since dinner, you joke about envying his metabolism despite knowing damn well that’s not the real reason for his physique. Although between the food and the heat-induced skipped workout, he’s bloating, just a little bit; the tiniest, most delicious bit of plumpness and you can’t take your eyes off of it. “Are you checking me out?”

“Always.” You reply with a brazen smile, continuing your laser-focused stare even as he begins approaching your spot on the couch.

“How about you stop looking and start touching, huh baby?”

“No.” You finally cease your objectification of his stomach to look him in the eyes. The intended sternness in your tone is stifled by the way his icy confection has turned his lips blue. “I already told you, no sex in this heat until the air con is fixed.”

Despite your posturing, you don’t fight his closing proximity, nor do you stop him from dragging his cool-raspberry-stained tongue along the length of your throat, it’s still cold from the half-eaten lolly and the sensation sends a welcome chill through your body. As inefficient as it may be, you much prefer this method of cooling down to an A/C.

Jason: Sunrise

The metal grate of your fire escape is surprisingly cool against your bare feet. It’s early, pre-sunrise early but the air is still thick, a combination of the arid summer heat and steam of the cities underground. Despite the unpleasant temperature, you settle onto the grill, with nothing but a pillow for comfort and two ice-cold glasses of lemonade.

When 15 minutes pass, and you start to notice a growing tinge of orangeness in the sky, you start to worry you’re being stood up, or worse; something awful has happened. Something that would prevent him from coming home, but then you hear it; The heavy steps of Jason’s steel-toed boots approaching from your apartment’s rooftop.

You glance up just in time to see him dropping down. A loud clang rings out as he hits the floor, causing the whole structure to vibrate and you wonder if he does that every night, surely not, there’s no way you could sleep through it or that your neighbours wouldn’t complain.

“Aren’t you sweating balls?” You ask, taking in his gear as he sits down beside you. The boots, the cargo pants, turtleneck, jacket, gloves, and the full-face mask.

“Nah.” His voice is muffled by the headpiece until he takes it off, shaking his head to support his answer. “It’s weird but I’ve kinda run cold ever since I died, you know?”

Obviously you don’t know, in fact having felt his searing, naked skin pressed to yours on multiple occasions, you highly doubt him, but you nod regardless and hand him his drink. Unlike a man on the chilly side, he chugs half of the icy drink in one go and you wonder if he’ll ever stop jumping from buildings and telling white lies to impress you.

“Want some help warming up?” Before he can respond you lean up, brushing your nose against his and watching as his lids flutter closed in anticipation, his breath is cool on your lips and when you finally press into them you can taste nothing but the tartness of the lemonade. Regardless, it’s heavenly; soft and tender. Every kiss with Jason makes your heart flutter in the same way it had the first time.

When he pulls away you chase after him, eyes only opening to meet his heterochromatic irises when your pursuit for more becomes an abundant failure.

He’s grinning as he tells you; “We’re missing the sunrise.”

“I don’t care.” You answer, trying again, and this time succeeding in drawing him in for another kiss.

Roy: Paddling Pool

If ever anybody asked you to describe a moment of pure domestic bliss, this moment would be a strong contender. Your lower body is submerged in a paddling pool as you bask in the sun, enjoying the occasional splash of water caused by Lian’s uncoordinated but enthusiastic dancing beside you. She too is basking, but hers is under an endless stream of hose water being directed by her father; Roy, who is watching the two of you from a sun lounger, hosepipe in one hand and a non-alcoholic beer in the other.

He's quite the vision, no shoes, no shirt, just tastefully tacky swim trunks and his iconically worn-out grey baseball cap that may be protecting his head, but is doing little to tame his mop of fiery hair. From this angle, you’ve got a great shot of some of his lesser-seen tattoos, but every time you look over at him you find yourself far more smitten with the countless freckles that adorn his chest and shoulders, made darker and more noticeable by the recent heatwave.

“How’s the Heineken?” You ask, genuinely curious how he’s enjoying his first taste of alcohol-free booze.

“Crap.” He replies, lips briefly curving into a self-amused smirk before dropping to woefully panicked as you both turn to look at Lian. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to have been listening in, content in her own toddler babblings. Relieved, he turns his attention back to you and corrects himself. “Um, not good babe.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry.” You offer your condolences, but he seems completely unbothered.

Instead, he turns the glass bottle around in his hands a few times before chucking it over his shoulder. It sails through the air before seamlessly landing in the open bin by your backdoor. Your concern about it leaking into the rest of the recycling is seconded by how impressed you are. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times his trick-shot hit, you’re always at least a little bit captivated by his impeccable aim.

“It’s cool, hon.” He shrugs and leans back into the lounger. His eyes flicker back and forth between you and his child, a slow, contented smile spreading across his face. “Got everything I need right here.”

Bonus:

Hours later, you’re sorting through the soggy contents of the recycling as Roy scoops Lian up in his arms and takes her sleepy frame inside. The sun is still high and bright, but it’s past her bedtime, and it’s been a long, exciting day for her. He dries her with the softest towel he can find, careful to pat down every pruned finger and toe before putting her to bed.

“How was your day, sweetie?” He asks, strong fingers petting her soft hair to help soothe her to sleep.

“Crap!”

Tim: Ice Cream

Tim is still sleeping off a rough, muggy night of crime fighting as you circumnavigate the boat's sad excuse for a kitchen. The bags under his eyes had been growing darker each day under the stress of hunting down a mysterious new bank robber. You’d hoped to lift his spirits by surprising him with a tub of homemade ice cream, but so far all you’d managed to make is a mess.

After having a falling out with the thrifted ice cream maker you’d stuffed in the back of a cupboard months ago, you settled for hand mixing. By the time you put the concoction in the freezer to set, your wrists are aching, and Tim has begun to stir. You’re just finishing up the dishes you’d created when he finally emerges from the bedroom in shorts, flip-flops, and a not-so-summer-appropriate hoodie.

Before you can offer a ‘good morning, Timmybear’ his arms are around your waist, pulling you close from behind and settling the weight of his sleepy head on your shoulder.

“What’s this?” He asks and then he’s licking what you can only assume is a stray splash of the mixture from your cheek with the bravery only a man raised by Batman could possess. It could have been literally anything. “Banana?”

“Chunky monkey actually.” Goddamn. Surprise ruined in less than a minute. Oh well, at least you can give him something to look forward to. “Don’t worry, I didn’t get ice cream without you, I made it for you.”

“I figured.” He hums, sounding so very drowsy despite the ease with which he manoeuvres your body against the kitchen counter so he can keep you close while brewing his morning tea, occasionally planting soft kisses to the side of your neck as his hands move absentmindedly. “You’re the best, you know that? Can’t wait to try it.”

“You figured? How did you figure?” You skip right past the justified praise; he’d been practically comatose since 4 AM, how could he have figured?

“It’s on the ceiling.” He’s right, you look up to see a cream-soaked walnut lodged above you and let out a dramatic sigh as you fall deeper into Tim's arms.

Taglist: @wandalfnation

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pastafossa · 13 days ago

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"Love Leaves A Mark" (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic, Pure Fluff)

I've been working on this for a bit to celebrate the release of our older Born Again!Era Matt, and happily I can say this one's now done, which means I can finish up another little oneshot I have and then get back around to The Red Thread's next chapter. This is written with TRT!Reader in mind, but I also tried to write it vaguely so it's easy enough to enjoy even if you haven't read that massive saga. Also if you'd like notifications when I post a new story, drabble, or chapter, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications!

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Wordcount: 3.8k

Warnings for this fic: None that I know of, they're just being cute and in love as they grow old together. There ARE some vague physical changes described that are standard in aging but that feels pretty normal.

Fic Summary: You and Matt are growing older together, and you're both loving every second of it, including the physical changes that come with it.

“Did you get more toothpaste today?” you called sleepily, lifting one leg to idly scratch at your calf with your foot. You worked your toothbrush over to the other side of your mouth, wrinkling your nose at the taste. Nine years you’d been using your husband’s toothpaste and you’d never gotten used to the flavor, or lack thereof. You’d be damned if you didn’t use it regardless, though. “And Mini’s food?”

“Picked up both.” The low rumble of his voice was sleepy and distracted as it drifted out of the bedroom. Outside the little brownstone you both now called home, the snow continued to fall in thick, heavy flakes, muffling the roar of the wind and the few cars still out on the street despite the late hour and travel ban. You were grateful for that storm. In all the time you’d been with him you’d never had a problem with the Devil’s nightly rounds. Loving Matt meant loving Daredevil, too. But you still treasured evenings like these when he was able to stay in with you, your purring, cuddly husband happily playing the role of your favorite blanket. “I may have also stopped at the bookstore and gotten you something on the way home.”

You paused, shifting your gaze meaningfully toward the open bathroom doorway. You probed curiously at the psychic connection between you, a subtle attempt to discern what it was he’d picked up for you. All you got was a playful nudge back. He didn’t even have to try all that hard anymore, smoothly deflecting you with all the ease of swatting away a pillow.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart.” His voice was an amused whisper in your mind. “You’ll have to figure it out the old-fashioned way.”

You scrubbed faster at your teeth, grinning at his laugh in the other room.

“I don’t know how you have any gums left considering how often you do that,” he mused as you leaned down to rinse your mouth out. You quickly shoved your toothbrush back into the penguin-shaped toothbrush holder before flipping off the light and padding out of the bathroom.

“The benefits of genetic tampering,” you said dryly, joining him in the bedroom. He was already settled into bed, sitting up with his back against the headboard, a well-worn book beneath his hand. Down atop his blanket-covered feet, a large, round black void of fur had arranged itself into a perfect circle, no head or tail to be seen. Matt tipped his head as he tracked your eager circling of the room, the barest little smirk quirking his lips. You scanned around for anything new, hunting along the walls and the bookshelves that had managed to migrate their way into the bedroom once your shared office slash library had gotten too full. Books had a tendency to breed like rabbits between you and Matt. “Where?” “Your nightstand. I figured you’d probably want to dive in.”

You darted over towards your nightstand.

“No way,” you breathed, sitting down on your side of the bed and snatching up the first of the three new hardbacks he’d placed on your nightstand. “This one—I thought it was going to take another week at least before they released it. How did you…?” “I kept checking with Hanna every time I passed by her bookstore.” He cleared his throat as you flipped open your new copy of Dante’s Divine Comedy to a random page, the much-loved scent of new paper and ink filling your nose. “Eventually she took pity on me and finally let me buy this one early with cash. Although she wasn’t sure why you wanted this one when you have so many other translations already.”

“It’s Palma’s new translation,” you murmured distractedly, dragging your finger down the flowing lines of poetry, your eyes skimming rapidly over the page. You could already spot some of the changes. “I have the first translation he did of the Inferno, but this is the first time he’s done the entirety of the Divine Comedy, and he’s tweaked his previous translation. It’s supposed to mimic the rhyming scheme Dante created more closely. Not easy when you’re shifting it from Italian to English. Dad’s going to have kittens when he hears the Devil got me my copy before he got his.”

Even without looking at him, you could feel Matt’s smug satisfaction. “You should call him so I can hear him swear.” “Call him yourself if you want to rub it in.” You snorted in amusement at Matt’s neverending desire to goad your adoptive father Ciro, who admittedly had a habit of goading back. At the very least their jabs had become less hostile over the years, the two of them now closer to sparring partners than actual enemies. You leaned over to look at the other two books Matt had gotten you, your brows shooting up. “And you got me Emily Wilson’s translations of the Illiad and the Odyssey? You’re spoiling me, husband dearest.” “You said last month you were thinking about picking them both up. I figured I’d check if they were there.” There was a rustle of blankets behind you, and a slightly irritated, ‘mrrp?’, presumably as Matt adjusted his feet beneath the fuzzy black hole curled up atop them. “Consider it an early anniversary gift.” “Not that I’m not grateful, but you and I both know it’s January, dear.” You set Dante back down atop the stack of books before swiveling on the bed to face Matt. You started crawling across the mountain of blankets and silk sheets toward his grinning form. “Our anniversary is months away.” “The anniversary of our first kiss, then.” His smile only grew wider when you reached him and threw your leg over him to sit astride his waist. It was something he welcomed as he always did, his hands setting aside his book immediately in favor of you. He slid his palms warmly up and down the fleece covering your thighs, pausing here and there to knead at the muscle just because he could. It never seemed to matter that he’d touched you a thousand times before. He treated every moment like this as if it were the first. “A few hardbacks are the least you deserve.” “Lines like that make me want to marry you.” You sighed, draping your arms comfortably over his broad shoulders, lifting one hand to idly card your fingers through his dark hair. He hummed beneath your touch, tilting his head openly into the fond drag of your fingers like a big cat. “Buying a woman hardbacks? In this economy? Put a ring on me, Mr. Murdock.”

“Now Mrs. Murdock, how would your husband feel about you saying things like that?” His voice was a playful purr, words thick and glutted thanks to the drag of your nails. You were pretty sure his eyes had rolled back behind his closed eyes. “He’d, mmm, hunt me down until his dying breath if I laid so much as a finger on you. As for me, my wife is… not inclined to let me go gently.”

“You’re goddamn right I’m not.” You sprawled out against his chest, dipping your head. He met you halfway, touching his lips to yours. You gave him a warm, lazy kiss, faint traces of copper and cinnamon passed from his smiling mouth to yours. The familiar taste of him, the softness of his skin, the sweet warmth of his breath in your mouth soothed you in a way little else could, and you drew him deep into you on a slow inhale, humming against his lips. His chest rumbled contentedly beneath you in response, his hands sliding up from your thighs to squeeze and rub affectionately your hips. “And don’t you ever forget it.”

“Never,” he murmured against your mouth, chasing after you to steal another kiss when you tried to lift your head. You ran your fingers through his hair again, sighing at the soft, playful brush of his tongue against your lips, giving it a mischievous nip of your own that made him rumble another pleased noise beneath you. His voice dropped further, all lazy warmth and possessive hunger, shades of the Devil coloring the edges like a painter’s brush. “Mm, my wife, all mine.” “Your wife,” you agreed fondly. “One who’s cut people before and will happily do it again if it keeps you safe.”

“Your services are very much appreciated.”

“They should be since I fully intend to sit in a pair of rocking chairs with you one day in our old age.” You brought your hand around to scratch your fingers lightly through the coarseness of his beard, making him groan breathlessly in delight, his back arching just a little beneath you. He’d been letting his beard grow in for the past week or so. You were unsure if it was by choice or if it was simply that he’d felt too busy to take the time to shave. It had been a while since you’d last seen him with a full beard, though, a few years at least. And to your pleasant surprise, there were a few changes. Your fingers petted curiously over the small patches of silver scattered around. “I’ve even kept you alive long enough that you’ve got grey here in your beard now. That’s new.” His brows rose in surprise, his eyes fluttering open where they’d fallen closed. “Really?”

“Yup. It’s very handsome.” You stroked at the prickly grey strands before your hands slid back and up to his temples, tracing the few strands of grey there just as affectionately. His cheeks had even turned the tiniest bit pink at your praise. “Some here, too. Just a little at your temples. You gonna be my silver fox, Matt?” “I guess so. That’s what I get for letting you pet all the color out over nine years.” He heaved a great sigh beneath you as if his care sheet instructions didn’t specify he get at least ten minutes of petting each day, without which he would wilt away. “You made me look old.” “Oh please. You don’t look old. You look human.” Your fingers left his hair so you could poke him pointedly in the chest. He threw you a wounded look, all furrowed brow and big sad eyes that you weren’t falling for even a little. “Also, you gave yourself those grey hairs, thank you very much. You’re the most stressed man I’ve ever met. Half of what you put yourself through would have turned anyone else’s hair white by now.”

“Fine. I’ll admit that I may have done… a few things that were somewhat stress—” “Got a building dropped on you. Fought Nobu in tissue paper. Got shot in the head. Used a neti pot to snort some fucking rusty tap water full of amoebas and tiny shrimp—”

“That last one still really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

“You have no idea. One day I’m going to kiss you and taste brain shrimp, I just know it.”

He snorted. “You say that like I don’t have my own list of all the things you’ve done that have almost given me a heart attack.”

“Alright, so my list is also… a bit long.” You tilted your head, watching his eyes shift absently around. After so many years with you, he was no longer self-conscious about letting you watch his eyes this closely, much to your delight. In the low light of the bedroom, his eyes were a soft, dark brown rather than the green or grey they could shift to during the day. Beautiful as always, especially with the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes, lines that now seemed permanent even when he wasn’t smiling. You brushed your thumb over a few of those lines, your playful tone falling away into something more serious. “What if I like it, though? These parts of you that are getting older? Like these laugh lines.”

He furrowed his brow pitifully. “Now you’re telling me I’m wrinkly, too?”

“Oh, fuck you!” you huffed, his body shaking beneath you as he laughed. “You know that’s not what I meant. Stop deflecting, I’m serious.”

“I’m know you are, even if you’re telling me I’m a grey, grizzled, wrinkled husk.” He groaned theatrically, rolling his head back. “You should just bury me if I’m that old.”

“Not a chance. Not when I love everything I’m seeing. Like these…”

You leaned in and planted a kiss on the laugh lines in question, feeling them grow deeper under your lips as he smiled.

“And these…”

Another kiss, this time against one of the grey patches in his beard, making him sigh.

“...and goddamn do I love all this, too,” you murmured, sitting back so you could drag your hands hungrily down the front of him. There was no part of him you didn’t love, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t just a little obsessed with the dark hair now edging up past his shirt collar—so much of it now that he’d finally given up on shaving his chest and let it all grow back—and the slightly thicker lines of his abdomen and hips, both of them a touch softer than they had been almost a decade ago when you’d first met him. You’d know; you’d been laying on him almost every night for most of that decade, barring a few rough patches and business trips.

“Mrs. Murdock,” he breathed in feigned shock, as if he wasn’t aware of exactly how much you enjoyed both his chest hair and the whole of his body from top to bottom, “are you insinuating something about me?” “You mean like insinuating I’m the reason you now eat regularly and aren’t so dehydrated that I can practically draw a map of your veins by sight?” You squeezed at the meat of his abdomen and hips greedily, your voice growing smug as you kneaded at him. Your touch made him chuckle and squirm beneath you, only drawing more protests from the cat trying to sleep on top of his feet. “Yes. Yes, I am. You’re welcome for the health, by the way. You’re aging like a fine wine, husband dearest. And it makes me happy.”

His face softened at that, one hand leaving your hips to lay against your sternum. “If your heart wasn’t beating so steadily, I’d say you were just trying to flatter me,” he mused. “But… me getting older really is making you happy, isn’t it?”

“It is. I…”

You paused for a moment, struggling to put into words what you were feeling. His hand at your hip edged up under your shirt until he could rub his thumb soothingly at your skin, content to wait while you figured out how to say what you wanted to say.

“I think it’s that… there was a time when I wasn’t sure if you’d live long enough for me to see you grow old with me.” You cupped his face in your hands, treasuring the way his eyes fell slowly closed and he leaned into your touch so openly, so easily. It had taken so much work to get him here, where he felt comfortable accepting your love and your affection, but it had been worth every ounce of effort. You traced over his laugh lines again with your thumbs before skipping down to the faint smile lines at the corners of his mouth, a mouth that pursed to kiss your thumb when you swept one over his lips. “But you did. I’m getting to see it. That’s special to me. I want to see that… that you’re still alive, that you’re living long enough for these things to happen. I want to see all these little grey hairs, and wrinkles, and the way your body has gotten a bit softer, because every little piece of you that gets older represents a moment I didn’t know if I’d get with you.”

He drew in a shaky breath before his eyes fluttered slowly open again. And in the dark of his eyes there was such a reverent joy, such a bone-deep love filling their depths that it almost took your breath away. You’d never tire of seeing it, even if you both lived for another fifty, another hundred, another thousand years, joined in this lifetime and in whatever came next. Religion had nothing on being loved fully, wholly by Matt.

“I could say the same thing about you,” he breathed, his hand at your sternum sliding up to cradle your neck, thumb sweeping gently over the thin skin above your pulse. He pressed just a little, just enough to tug your skin back and forth. A moment later, he tugged you in until he could feather a kiss against your pulse where his thumb had been, lingering there as you nuzzled into his dark hair. “And spots like right here.”

“What’s changed there?”

“The texture of your skin. How much it moves when I touch it. I like to think,” he whispered against your throat, “that your skin’s a little looser here now, more worn in, because I’ve stroked at it so much that I’ve changed you permanently. It’s a sign of just how much I’ve touched you, how many times you’ve trusted me and let me put my hands here. It’s never mattered to you how scarred those hands were, how covered in blood. You let my love leave a mark.”

He tightened his other hand against your hip next, taking hold of the curves that had changed as you’d journeyed through the years with him. “And you’re softer now, too, just like me.” From there he smoothed his hand affectionately upwards over your ribs and up past your breasts, mapping over all of the places your body had begun to show your age like his: stretchmarks and small wrinkles where once skin had been smooth and tight, scars from old battles now faded and ragged with time. The journey his hand took was made with reverence, tender and heavy with intent, his smile so very soft and almost… wondrous. “I may not be able to see you, but I can feel you growing old with me, too, sweetheart. More curves, a few wrinkles. It’s like I can feel your body sinking deeper and deeper into a life with me.”

“That’s what happens when love winds up being your gravity.” You leaned in to kiss his forehead lines. “A decade of being drawn in by you.”

“Mhm. And up here.” He shifted his hand at your throat to cup your face like you had his, his thumb tracing the corners of your eyes. “Laugh lines. Because our life’s made you laugh so much that it changed you. They weren’t there the first time I put my hands here. But they are now. Signs of how happy you are with me. And there are more every year, because you… love me enough to stay.”

“Hey, my Devil-Man,” you whispered, tilting his head up until your forehead could meet yours. He didn’t bother to hide the vulnerability in his eyes, this old wound of his. It was mostly mended now, when it came to you, but sometimes that furrowed scar inside his heart still made him ache. “Do you need me to remind you again? I’m not going anywhere, husband of mine. There’s nowhere you’ll go that I won’t follow.”

“I know.” His eyes fluttered as you stroked at his skin. His arms left your face until he could wind them tighter around you, pulling you in tight against him until his every breath became yours. That seemed to settle him some, the weight of you against his chest, especially when you dropped your head to his shoulder, nuzzling in against his neck. “That’s… that’s just it. With me, you see… moments you didn’t think you’d have because you didn’t think I’d make it. And I didn’t think I’d have this with you, either. A home, wrinkles, greying hair. Not because I didn’t think you’d live long enough, but… but because I never thought I’d find someone who could love me enough to stay this long. To love me this long. Long enough that I could feel you grow old with me.”

“Loving you has never been a chore, Matt.” You breathed in the scent of his skin, soap and the faint copper of blood, traces of cinnamon and just him. It was a scent you knew better than your own. You lifted your hand to run your knuckles down his cheek, tracking your way through his greying beard, hoping that your touch would help your words sink in. He slid his hands up under the back of your shirt to drag his palms smoothly down your back, comforting himself with the feel of your skin as he tilted his head, listening to your heartbeat. It wasn’t because he thought you were lying, that much you knew. But he’d told you once he found the truth soothing when hearing something that might make him feel otherwise vulnerable. Something like this, this old wound of his, absolutely qualified. “And it never will be, no matter what comes at us. If you need me to remind you of that every day, I will. I’ll tell you that over and over again, until the day we die and get buried in matching coffins.”

“The same coffin,” he said quietly, tipping his head to nuzzle at your temple. “There’s a reason we took ‘Till death do we part’ out of our vows. No parting, even in death.”

“Do they even sell double coffins? If so, I’m down.” “Even if they don’t, I’ll tell Foggy to make sure I end up in yours with you.” “I think I should end up in yours.” “Why?” “Because everyone will just assume your coffin’s extra heavy due to your goddamn audacity.” He burst out laughing beneath you, his body shaking and almost throwing you off him entirely. “I’m just saying,” you continued, trying not to grin as he choked out more laughter, “you live your life in a very particular way, man without fear. ‘Christ, why is his coffin so heavy?’ And our friends can just say, ‘well, you know, it’s Matt Murdock’ and it’ll explain everything. No one will notice me shoved in underneath you so you can lay on top of me forever.”

“It’s a date,” he said, still huffing in amusement. A pointed paw tapped at your back before starting a walk up your spine. “Speaking of which, looks like someone’s eager to get in on the cuddling.” “Behold, offer to cuddle and both Matts will appear,” you snorted as roughly twenty pounds of scarred black cat trod his way stubbornly up and onto your shoulder, rasping out an indignant meow that sounded like he’d been smoking a pack a day for the past seven years, because how dare the two of you do this without inviting him. “I’m about to be sandwiched, I think. Hello, Mini-Matt.”

Sure enough, Matt’s smaller clone enthusiastically rammed his head against your temple, making you grunt, before doing the same to Matt’s chin. He was already purring like an old motorcycle engine in a request to get in on what seemed like a nice, cozy cuddle pile, as if Matt would ever turn the cat down. Sure enough, Matt leaned in, planting a kiss to Mini’s big fuzzy forehead before turning and laying a much gentler kiss on yours as Mini draped himself over your shoulder, stretching one paw out to pat Matt's face. “Something tells me you don’t mind, though.”

“Not even a little.”

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deckedcards · 29 days ago

Text

. . . I WANT YOUR EVERYTHING, EVERY SINGLE PART OF YOU

⌗ PAIRING: yandere! suguru niragi x male! reader, yandere! ryōhei arisu x reader x yandere! yuzuha usagi

⌗ SUMMARY: ever since (name) had been sent to this world of murder games, he thought that nothing could get worse upon from where he was now. that is until he catches the attention of a certain rifle handling psychopath. but rest assured, arisu and usagi won’t let the militant touch what’s theirs.

⌗ THIS WORK INCLUDES . . . lowercase intended, kind’ve dark content, typical aib warnings, typical niragi warnings, typical yandere warnings, third person pov, weapons described, cursing, niragi being worse than he already is, obsessed niragi, unhealthy love, “love” at first sight, possessive niragi, one-sided obsession, suggestive content (not full-on smut tho), reader only has eyes for arisu and usagi, implied poly relationship, bisexual! reader, threatening, suicidal thoughts, mentions of niragi’s backstory, assault, drugging, reader being too “pure” for the borderlands, reader gets hurt a lot, mentions of episode 3, scars, the militants, torture, niragi seeing himself in reader, reader wears glasses, stalking??, PTSD, niragi just being really creepy altogether, niragi calls reader “rabbit,” reader just wants to go home, also slight episode 6 rewrite, fixed grammar and wording mistakes ❨ edited ❩

⌗ EXTRA NOTES: this was originally supposed to be JUST a niragi fic, but then i started thinking about arisu and so i added him in, BUT THEN i started thinking about usagi once i started writing for his part so now there’s this. enjoy!! (niragi gif, arisu x usagi gif)

⸺ THIS WORLD was rotten, that’s all (name) knew when he was sent to this verison of shibuya. a version where he had to fight for his life in games that he never thought he’d be able to survive. he missed his family. he missed the warm comfort of his bed, the cold wind that brushed against his window at night, the excitement he always felt as he met up with his friends to hang around amusement parks that opened around the city.

why, why him? had he done something wrong in his past life to be cursed into this hell? he didn’t know what to do during his time here, he was alone throughout all this. he had survived, what—three—four? games by now. eight of spades, three of diamonds, six of clubs, and two of spades. he didn’t want to do this anymore, he didn’t wanna kill innocent people just to keep himself safe. either way, it’s not like he was given a choice. with the effects of the visa lingering over him, he had too. he was afraid of letting the days run out just to get shot down by a laser that came from god knows where.

he didn’t know the importance of the cards, he just stuck them in his pockets after he finished a game and off he went to his abanded apartment building to rest for the remainder of the day. that is … until he found the beach. he doesn’t know how he found it in the first place, but not a day goes by where he doesn’t regret it. why you may ask? it’s simple, really.

it was all because of suguru niragi.

ever since (name) joined the beach, niragi has been anything but kind to him. yes, niragi was already a complete asshole to people at the beach anyways, but for some reason (name) was his number one target. constantly degrading him, beating him till he was bruised to the pulp, even making some of the militants hold back his limbs as he dragged his (loaded) rifle across his abdomen and chest telling him how “he could pull the trigger at any moment if he wanted to”; this always stroke fear into (name)’s core. even stealing the chipped glasses off his face making his shitty vision betray him, this gave niragi a bigger advantage to the torture he indured as this made the man more helpless than he already was.

(name) was weak, fragile even and easily scared, he wouldn’t deny that, the borderlands practically ruined him. he knew that niragi could actually kill him at the slight pull of his trigger. it didn’t help that niragi was a stubborn and narcissistic man that wasn’t afraid of getting blood on his hands if it meant having more fun, the total opposite of what (name) was. he always attempted to avoid him throughout the building but alas, he always failed. especially since the militants were everywhere, always notifying him of his location or when he got back from a game. he was like a bug that always showed up around the house no matter how many times he tried squishing it. the beach was supposed to be a place where players could have fun, not stressing about the games that existed outside of it.

live your lives to the fullest was the message hatter had given everyone, but how could he do that when this maniac lingered at every corner he turned? he couldn’t relax if he wanted too, always on edge as stress ate up his body worrying about both the games and the pierced devil with an ego too big for his body. (name) prayed every night that niragi would just disappear one day, maybe even failing at a game for being too careless or reckless at it. however, no matter how many times he did so, he would always succeed. coming back even more pyschotic than the day prior and he’d have to deal with his wounds getting reopened again as the days went by.

niragi hated how much (name) reminded him of how he used to be. innocent, weak, helpless, lonely, always letting his bullies get the upper hand all because he didn’t know how to defend himself. he wanted to kill him. kill the person that reminded him of all those horrible memories. but he didn’t, no matter how many times he thought of doing so, he didn’t. he was too infatuated with him.

ever since he first caught sight of (name), he was obsessed with him, how pure he was. all the brightness he had in his eyes, the spark inside them having yet to go out considering the predicament he was put in. how everytime he caught sight of niragi, his eyes widened and his body began to shake. all the tears and whimpers that left him as he dragged a knife against his skin, threatening to cut it open and leave him to bleed out. his poor little rabbit. being forced to succumb to the rules of the borderlands, he just wanted to tie him up and leave him in a closet where only he could find him. where he’d have to be forced to rely on niragi to live. he was perfect.

of course, that wasn’t possible. he didn’t want (name)’s visa days to run out and have to come back to his lifeless body bleeding out on the floor because of that stupid laser. so he let him roam free. if you would call tormenting “roaming free.” but again, it was all he could do. he didn’t have to worry about the beach residents foiling his plan since they already knew that (name) was off limits. ever since one of them walked in on his fun time, as he liked to call it.

(name)’s whimpers were muffled as the fabric that kept him quiet tugged against the corners of his mouth. his hands jerked at the restraints that trapped them against the frame of the bed, his feet were mirrored the same way. all he did was let out tears at his situation. niragi had captured him again, after he thought he’d been so successful in avoiding him. he hadn’t seen him or the militants all day, he was ecstatic in thinking he could have a peaceful day finally, one where he could relax just like hatter promised.

oh how naive the poor thing was, did he forget where he was stuck at? he strolled around the hallways of the building, playing around at the umbrella straw that was soaked inside his drink. he was finally able to visit the club that most of the citizens hung around in, a huge bright smile was plastered on his face. this was the first time he felt ever content in this place in months or however long he’s spent here (dates or calendars weren’t very accurate especially since the internet didn’t work anymore and nobody’s been keeping track of the days) it was too good to be true, but like always, his happiness was cut short. as soon as he turned the corner to head to his room he felt someones hand press a wet cloth against his nose, the smell of it was nauseous, his drink dropped to the floor staining the carpet beneath it. “shh…” was all he heard before he blacked out.

his vision was groggy as he woke up, blinking his eyes at an attempt to take in his surroundings. the room he was in was dark but dimly light by the bedside light, window curtains blocking off the outside, and wooden door closed off. attempting to sit up, he struggled, finally feeling his limbs glued to the bed he was in. realization had finally set in as he cried, obviously nothing came out and nobody would hear him anyways, so why would he even try?

“i missed you today.”

like a sixth sense, the door opened as a figure walked in, niragi. a shit-eating grin painted his face as he watched (name) struggle against the hold of the ropes, muffled screams left him as he walked over to his side settling down his rifle. niragi grabbed ahold of his face, squishing his cheeks together as he mocked a pout, “i have to give it to you, you hid yourself pretty well. i was starting to think you fell down the rabbit hole.” he spat rolling (name)’s head to the side. niragi opened the bedside table as he grabbed a small pocket knife that was hidden inside it.

he cocked the knife, revealing the sharp metal point. (name) was breathing heavily as niragi crawled ontop of him trailing the knife across from his collarbones down to the middle of his shirt. sticking out his tongue as slick stuck to the metal ball in the middle of it, lapping at his face as (name) cringed at the warm feeling of niragi’s spit mixed with the heat that filled his face. “you know better than to fuck with me..” niragi snarled, “it’s almost like you want me to kill you?” his fist collided with (name)’s face as he squirmed, dark eyes peered over him as nirgai bit his lip at the sight. the pervert was getting aroused at this.

he was too intoxicated at his movements, all of his undivided attention was focused on the screams that left (name)’s mouth as he deepened the knife into his thigh drawing blood. the door handled jiggled as it opened, a girl with long hair and bangs stood in the doorway, color left her face as she saw the scene infront of her. niragi snapped his head, sending a glare her way, “s-sorry…i-i-i’m so sorry! i didn’t see anything i promise!” she stammered closing her eyes shut and bowing her head as she left, slamming the door shut.

niragi clicked his tongue turning his head back as he smiled at the man under him, lightly bending his torso over to whisper in his ear, “there goes your savior.”

(name) was losing hope. all the pain he’s felt was bringing him to the edge, he wanted to end it all. nobody was going to save him, no one at the beach even gave him at a glance at all the agony he’s gone through. who was he going to tell all of this too? hatter, the drunkend sex obsessed lunatic? aguni, niragi’s own boss? fuck, no. they wouldn’t give two shits about how he was feeling. he needed someone more special, his own white knight or maybe even an angel, perhaps.

an angel like… ryōhei arisu.

arisu wasn’t like everyone else at the beach. he was smart, kind, caring, good-hearted, empathetic, handsome, he was the type of person who would risk his life if it meant protecting others. he was everything (name) needed. he never expressed any desires in hurting him, always protecting the other whenever they were paired up in a game together. with all of these sessions a friendship had started to build up with the two.

he was comfortable in expressing all his desires of wanting to go back to his old life, the yearning he had to see his friends and family again, even telling about him all the things niragi had done to him before he came. arisu listened to everything, never interrupting him or cutting him off, always giving him a hug or letting him cry into his shoulder as his hatred for niragi grew even more.

arisu had even opened up to him about losing his friends in a seven of hearts game. how they sacrificed themselves just so he could live on, a promise he intended to keep for as long as he was alive. (name) felt safe around him, always hanging around arisu and usagi as they gladly accepted him into their team.

arisu was his angel, while yuzuha usagi was his white knight.

usagi was just like arisu. kind, smart, beautiful, good-hearted, and protective, but unlike arisu, she was stronger. stronger than both of them, both physically and mentally. the type of person who worked independently, unless she was with someone she cared about and knew well. despite how she presented herself, she was still sensitive and emotional on the inside, especially with the grief she had of losing her father. she’d built up walls that she had never thought she’d be able to take down for anyone that wasn’t arisu. anyone that wasn’t (name).

ever since she found out what happened to him, she felt remorse for him. nobody should have to deal with all the misery he went through, nobody.

one day, during a game, she had teamed up with him. it was a spades game, something she was good at. during one of the rounds, (name) was attacked by another player while he was off guard, he tried to fight back but his strength wasn’t the best as his attacker easily overpowered him. usagi came out of nowhere, knocking the other player off of him as she delivered a blow to their face, over and over again. anger was all she felt at this person trying to to get rid of one of the only people she cared about. she didn’t care if this person was just trying to play the game and had the desire to survive like her. no, she wasn’t gonna let anybody take (name) from her.

lifting her bloody knuckles from the blow she gave, she stood up picking up (name)’s glasses that were knocked off him to return. that’s when she saw it. his shirt was ridden up as his chest heaved, eyes closed with messy hair and sweat wetting his skin. her face felt hot as she looked away, shaking her head to get rid of all the erotic thoughts that filled her subconscious. but what really caught her eyes were the pigmented lines that reached from his torso all the way to his waistband and dipped even lower than that.

his body was littered with all the affliction that she knew was forced onto him. her ears started ringing as all possible images of what could’ve happened to him flood to her. god, did she just wanna kill niragi.

“usagi… is that you?”

the calling of her name took her out of it, rushing to (name)’s side. “yeah it’s me.” she replied setting his glasses back onto his face, brushing a strand of hair away, “don’t worry, you’re safe now.” she cradled his face in her hands as they smiled at each other, (name) thanking her profusely before they went on to finish the rest of the game, not caring about the bloody corpse that was left behind.

yeah, safe.

the two made a deal between themselves, protect (name) no matter the cost. when (name) told them the thoughts he had conjured up of wanting to let go of himself, all arisu saw was him the day after the wolf and three lambs game.

lying on the street, filthy, dried blood and tears staining him. graphic memories of karube’s head exploding as his body flumped to the floor, his lit up cigarette rolling to arisu’s feet as he cried out into the air. nothing but his weeping could be heard throughout the building. he was begging for death, he wanted to be with karube and chōta again. not caring if he would be breaking the promise they had given him, he missed his brothers.

he doesn’t think he would still be here if usagi hadn’t saved him. but man, is he grateful she did. cause if she didn’t, he doesn’t think he’d have the gratitude of being with her or meeting (name). he made a promise that he’d never let anyone feel the same way he did after that. he definitely wouldn’t let (name) feel that way.

“you have us now,” arisu reassured him. the three were in (name)’s suite, he was sat on one of the twin beds as arisu and usagi were on the one across from him. tears streamed down (name)’s face as he turned his head up. the duo were looking at him with nothing but love in their eyes.

usagi nodded her head at this, standing up to move beside him, resting her hands on his shoulders, “i promise you’ll be safe as long as we stick together.” she said softly wiping the tears from his cheeks. arisu grabbed his right hand clasping it between both of his, “we’ll protect you and we’ll bring you back with us to the real world.”

(name) furrowed his brows, ripping his hand back (much to arisu’s dismay) as he looked between the both of them, “but hatter said only one person can go back to the real world? someone who has all the cards, and only he can have all of them, so how would you—“

“hatter is dead,” arisu responded coldly with no hint of hesitation in his voice. (name)’s breath hitched in his throat, eyes expanding, cranking his head to look at usagi. begging this to just be a joke. a joke where she would laugh the moment he looked at her. hatter was strong, reckless, but strong. surely one simple game couldn’t have ended it all for him, right? his eyes met hers as she nodded, her face was stoic, no sense of humor to be found on it. no. “he failed at one of his games. the game where everybody was celebrating his help to retrieve one of the playing cards,” she says rubbing her thumb against his cheek to soothe his nerves.

his pupils darted around the room at the conformation, stopping to connect with arisu’s, “so.. who runs the beach now?”

“we haven’t decided yet.” he replies, “me and the rest of the executives are gonna have a meeting about it tomorrow afternoon. my guess is kuzuryu. i mean, it’d make sense, he is second in line.”

nodding his head (name) spoke up again, “and the cards? how do you expect to get those?”

“chishiya.”

a laugh escaped him, “chishiya? the only person who works with him is kuina, how’d you get him to become your ally?”

“it’s a long story, really. it’s best we don’t get into it right now,” arisu responded, “he told me he has a plan for after the new beach leader gets chosen. and we were hoping you’d help us with it.”

(name) shook his head at the offer, this entire thing seemed sketchy. chishiya wasn’t the type of person who would just so easily let someone help with one of his schemes and hatter’s death, how would the new leader explain that to the citizens? there was definitely something going on that they didn’t know about.

“hey, listen,” arisu steered his attention away from his thoughts, “just like usagi said, you’ll be safe with us. if you’re worried about anything bad happening during tomorrow then you can just stay in my room. everybody will be busy in the lobby anyways—“

“no.”

usagi raised her brows at this, “no?” she repeated. “i wanna help.” (name) said grabbing arisu’s hands just like he had done to him a few seconds ago, “i don’t care anymore. i wanna go home. i wanna go back and maybe even have a life with the two of you.”

the duo smiled at the last sentence, having a life with him sounded nice. just the three of them, together. “yeah..” arisu whispered, if he was a cartoon character he would definitely have giant heart shaped eyes just by (name)’s actions, “okay, yeah! that sounds great, yeah!” he rapidly collected himself straightening his posture as he stood up, “well, it’s uh.. getting pretty late, i think we should all head to bed now. c’mon usagi, let’s go!”

usagi stiffled a smile at his awkwardness. he never really was good at being a romantic, “sweet dreams.” usagi said giving (name)’s shoulders one last rub before getting up and following arisu out of the room. (name) watched as they left, his stomach started to churn as he internally slapped himself, already regretting what he had just said to them.

what had he gotten himself into?

a/n: i was gonna write a lot more but i didn’t want the fic to end up being too long so i ended it right there. i have a lot of ideas that i wanna do with this, so i might expand on the story a little more. maybe or maybe not, we’ll see.

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dead-boys-club · 7 months ago

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† kisses : shigaraki.

❥ scenario: kissing tomura. ❥ no triggers; not rated. ❥ i don't have any beta readers - you get what you get. ❥ requested! it is a whole mess.

❥ series: tomura - izuku

✧*̥˚ some stuff *̥˚✧

tomura comes off as a rather aloof person; someone with many walls and deep rooted trust issues. so, if you're kissing me, we can already assume your relationship to him is one build over a good amount of time. it would be a very, very intensely personal experience for him. he's not used to physical touch by any means, so it would put him in an almost awkward mindset. he probably wouldn't fully know how to process being so.. ( god, i use this word a lot, i'm sorry ) vulnerable and close.

kissing him would be soft and slow. he would be hesitant, like you were something fragile, also trying not to fuck something up. he's navigating something new, so it would take time for him to get the hang of it. and, it would make him smile - which is a feat all in it's own. he would show you this small, gentle smile; a genuine expression of warmth and adoration that's incredibly rare.

i can't even put into words how soft this man would be over kisses. and, he's not going to be picky once he gets the hang of it. he would really, really enjoy:

moth kisses

forehead kisses

jaw kisses

slow make out sessions

in the beginning, he would ( idk, is this surprising? ) not be in control of shit. he would actually hand the reigns over to you and enjoy the ride.

the thing is, he's a really good kisser???? because any time he kisses you, he's kissing you like it's the very last time. he's got a hand on the back of your neck, fingers settled against when your hair stops, just.. drowning in the intimacy of the moment. his other hand gripping onto your shirt at your side - he'd have hell letting go.

he's obsessed. and, honestly, unless he's in a foul mood, it's the best way to distract or help him feel better. though, i should add, i feel as though he'd become just a tad bit clingy towards you once you made it to this level of intimacy.

if i keep going, i'm going to go down a rabbit hole of trapping him on the couch and kissing him til neither of you can breathe, SO - i'm going to slide down into a scenario.

✧*̥˚ tiny things *̥˚✧

❥ moth kisses: ( so, do you remember the last time we actually saw him play a game? no? me either but- ) moth kisses are mostly to attempt to annoy him, which.. may only actually work once or twice. the type of kisses you give when interrupting him. when you just cup his face and kiss all over, quickly, not giving him a chance to do anything about it.

❥ forehead kisses: god, please, give him forehead kisses. he really appreciates them in the morning or before bed, the way you brush his hair aside and linger for a moment. i feel like this is a gesture that really makes him understand that you're there for a reason. and you're genuine.

❥ jaw kisses: when he's working on things, you generally know better than to fuck with him too much. so, as you're tucked up beside him, that's when you nose and press little kisses to his jaw. you try not to jostle him too much.

❥ temple kisses +: this is more of something he does for you. because it starts as temple kisses, his eyes closed as he layers kisses over the spot for a few seconds. he'll slowly move down until he's nosing at the spot behind your earlobe, either humming or whispering little things. very much a private moment that no one else sees.

❥ the aforementioned slow make outs: usually when this happens, he's either tired or it started because he was in a shit mood. he likes how it starts as just small kisses and then turns into closing his eyes, lungs clenching, need building but it's still going so slowly, it's nearly killing him.

❥ the one time you almost died: because it was in the middle of a fight. it wasn't your fault that when you caught his gaze, you both seemed to stop. however, when you plant an unexpected kiss on his lips before disappearing into the fray once more, he's briefly distracted and a little agitated. you were being reckless but fuck if he didn't continue on with wanting more of you.

✧*̥˚ first kiss *̥˚✧

withdrawn.

that was somewhat normal but he seemed even further gone than usual. his responsibilities and the pressure on his shoulders, it was starting to wear on him and you could see it. the way he sank into the arm chair, picking at the hem and staring off into space. it wasn't something you enjoyed seeing.

you shift from your spot by the doorway, approaching to settle on the armrest of his chair, lifting his hand into your hold. a few minutes past in silence, neither of you feeling the need to say anything. you could see some sense of helplessness behind his eyes, making you frown and squeeze his hand. he didn't pull away despite how he flinched, fingers curling into the touch.

'tomura..' you said softly, not really know what could be said in the moment, considering he'd never done too well with encouraging talk. 'i'm here, you know?'

it took him a second before his head turned, guarded expression briefly flickering to give way to something softer. he didn't say anything, gratitude seen in his gaze. it wasn't hard to identify the conflict going on behind his eyes, something you knew you couldn't do much to fix or aid in. the most you could do was attempt to distract.

you didn't think about it too much, or at all, when you began to lean closer, the distance between you shrinking quicker than your mind could keep up. you were really leaning far too close into the personal space of one of the most dangerous men you knew and couldn't really stop. your heart felt like it was in your throat the moment your lips pressed against his own. the kiss was tender and hesitant, lasting only for a moment.

when you pulled back, you weren't sure how to act. his eyes were slightly wide with bewilderment, frozen and free hand anchoring him to reality with it's grip to the armchair. 'why...?' he began, barely above a whisper, not trusting his voice. you could hear the confusion, clear as day, but beneath it - there was something else. the smallest note of longing.

his voice completely erased the mild panic that had grown and you just smiled, light and careful. 'because you matter to me? because i adore you. and, i want to be there for you.. in any way that i can be.'

you weren't expecting to make a confession and he surely wasn't expecting to receive one. thankfully, he didn't respond to that. 'thank you,' was all he managed to get out, taking in the words and warmth that spread through him at the kiss.

the room fell quiet once more, though the atmosphere shifted into something new. there was a newfound understanding created from the simple, yet profound, moment of intimacy.

and, it would only grow from that moment on.

#mha #mha imagines #mha scenarios #mha imagine #mha x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura x reader #bnha

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susicheng · 2 months ago

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𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ dm for prices l.mk

chapter 6 perfect match

something that you pride yourself on is your easygoing nature. you're nonchalant. you don't really care what people think of you. it was honestly relieving, to exist in peace and not stress over every minuscule interaction you have throughout the day.

now, though, that nonchalance was nowhere to be found. it was just mark lee, seriously, what was the big deal? sure, he would be inside of your apartment. sure, you're also so attracted to him you may or may not have already had your fair share of wet dreams that can never, EVER be mentioned around ten lee (you knew he would never let you live them down). it's not like you guys were going to go at it like rabbits. he was just a guy coming over to watch spiderman movies with you. no biggie.

a knock at the door startled you out of your thoughts. with one final glance at the mirror, you turned to welcome your (kind-of) drug dealer into your apartment. the door swung open to reveal mark lee, in all of his glory, carrying multiple grocery bags in either hand.

"hey, mark. i told you that you didn't need to bring anything." you reached out to take some of the bags from his hands, pointedly ignoring how domestic and natural it felt between the two of you to behave in such a way.

"i know, it just felt wrong to come empty handed. it's just some more snacks and some drinks haha" he toed his shoes off and fully entered your apartment, shutting the door behind himself. "thanks for having me over, by the way."

"don't say that yet, you might be begging to escape later" you glanced up at him with a smile on your face, finding the same expression mirrored on his own face "i get more serious about marvel than you might be prepared for."

"little do you know, i'm so serious about spiderman that it's been banned at our friend group's movie nights."

"sounds like we're the perfect match then."

you had both gathered small snack plates, filing into your bedroom (ohmygod mark lee in your bedroom. getting into your bed. holy shit. you did not think this part through). the deep breath that you had to suck in was mildly humiliating, but the way mark almost tripped over a stray cinnamoroll plush on the ground was more humiliating, so you took that as a win.

you felt comfortable with him. it wasn't necessarily surprising that you had managed to become so friendly with him in a short period of time, but it was surprising that you already wanted him this badly. you might need to stage an intervention for yourself, because there was no reason mark lee should look that good curled up in your bed, watching intently as tom holland flys across the screen.

you could see why these movies were banned in his friend group, with mark's frequent commentary and analyses cutting into the movie. if you weren't so obsessed with his voice and his semi-alarmingly in depth theories, you might have even been annoyed. instead, this was filed away in your brain as "top 10 cutest things mark lee has ever done."

you had a feeling you would be adding on to that list quite a lot in the coming weeks.

previous ꩜ .ᐟ next ꩜ .ᐟ masterlist ꩜ .ᐟ

⊹₊⟡⋆ mel's corner: sorryy for such a delayed update ahhh! the holidays + work are keeping me booked and busy but thank you all so much for your patience <3

#: @hyuksworld @gela0205 @cyjzzl @mmjhh1998 @injvns @222brainrot @kittydollzz @tadadw @t-102 @sunghoonsgfreal @slayhaechan @nctrawberries @ryuvrsie @ttjisung @ddolbyong @purezitas @jae-n0 @ballsa420 @remgeolli @fullsungss @peterm4rker @autumngirlchim @holyhaech @njmluvr @choizzn @sewergirlfriend @ddolleri @toroufriteh @pickmedolls @haechansssun

#nct #nct dream #nct smau #nct x reader #mark nct #mark x you #mark x reader #mark #mark lee #mark lee smau #mark lee x you #mark lee nct #mark lee x reader #mark smau #nct dream smau

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moonstruckme · 10 months ago

Note

May I please please with sprinkles and a cherry on top request, more protective! Sirius with reader who gets scared or startled easily?(maybe a hufflepuff reader?) Like I'm scaredy cat, I just want him to make the scary go away! Literally anything your beautiful brain thinks up will be amazing as always

Thanks for requesting lovely!

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 635 words

Sometimes walking at night can’t be avoided, but you don’t love it. Every shadow, every passerby who drifts too close, every bird taking off from a nearby perch, makes your heart race and the hairs on your neck and arms stick straight up like an army of useless soldiers standing at attention. A few blocks ago someone had swung open a gate, and you’d jumped into the street.

You’re telling yourself you’re already halfway home, only a small ways to go, when—

“Stop there!”

Your entire body seizes up, and before you know what you’re doing you’ve hopped around on the spot, turning to face the threat with your hands held out in front of you as if to shove them away.

Sirius only continues walking toward you from a good few meters down the sidewalk, one dark eyebrow raising amusedly.

“Well, I was going to tell you off for walking by yourself at night,” he says, “but with reflexes like those it’s clear I’ve wasted my time. You’ve got it handled.”

“Oh my god.” You cross the distance to him, giving your boyfriend a very heartfelt and somewhat desperate hug. “Don’t scare me like that!”

Sirius bands an arm across your shoulders and palms the back of your head. He strokes your hair comfortingly. “See, that wouldn’t ordinarily be such an insane request, but I’ve found with you it’s actually quite difficult to avoid.” He presses his lips to the crown of your head, his teasing inlaid with fondness. “What do you think you’re doing walking around by yourself in the dark, hm?”

You get the sense you’ve saved yourself from a much sterner tongue lashing by your fright at his arrival. You push this small advantage, pressing snugly to Sirius’ front and looking up at him with your best bambi eyes. “I’m just trying to get home,” you say. Your boyfriend looks like he knows what you’re about, but he smooths the baby hairs at your temple consolingly anyway. “Dinner at Marie’s ran long, and I didn’t want to spend money on a cab fare or anything like that.”

“That’s what I’m for, darling.” Sirius squints his eyes at you. They glint in the low light, more playful than mean. “You’re supposed to call me when these things happen, not try your luck and hope for the best. Understand?”

“Yeah, sorry.” You relent easily, more than happy to have him as an escort and as exceptional company. Sirius lets you go, starting in the direction of your place. “How’d you know I was here anyway?”

“Saw you from inside the takeaway place a couple blocks back.” He casts a glance your way, mouth kicking up at one corner. “You looked like someone’s pet rabbit that had gotten loose. You’re definitely going to attract the wrong sort if you’re walking around looking all scared like that.”

You laugh. “I don’t think I could have looked that bad.”

“Oh, you’ve never looked bad. Just a tad flighty.”

Sirius sets a sure hand on the small of your back and grins when you jolt. You loose a breath, shaking your head at yourself as a dizzy little giggle spurts out of you.

“God, sorry.”

“Who else was it going to be, sweetness?” he teases, sliding that hand to your waist and using it to tug you closer, into a rough sort of half hug. “You need to ease up. I’ve got you.”

You lean into his side, doing an exceptionally poor job of feigning any reluctance. “And what’s going to stop someone from mugging the both of us?”

“Oh, I’m not worried about that at all.” Sirius gives your waist an affectionate squeeze. “You’re quick as anything, baby. If someone comes for us, I know you’ll be out of here before I can even turn around.”

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shesoutofhere · 1 month ago

Text

With Perfection Comes Obsession

Hockey James Potter x Figure Skater Reader

Summary- You're back in the rink, training for a medal you lost out on the year before. Nothing is going to get in your way this year. Or so you think.

Warnings- Description of a panic attack, Unhealthy habits

Wordcount- 10k

Translation: Lapin - Rabbit

Ignore all typos <3

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

Spin

“Again”

Spin

“Again

Spin

“Again”

You hit the ice just as aggressively as you did the time before that. You're finding it hard to breathe and everything aches.

“Again Lapin!”

You pump your legs, moving them fast and hard. You're mid-jump when you hear the shrieking of the arena buzzer. Thrown off, your footing is off and you fall to your knees.

You hear your coach scoff, moving to get off the ice. You get up, wincing at the sting in your knees, that’ll be a nasty bruise.

When you walk off the ice, Coach hands you your blade covers. You mentally prepare yourself for the lecture you’ll receive when you return to the locker room.

You feel a tight grip on your arm. Okay, looks like you’ll get your lecture right here.

“Lapin, If you get distracted by a buzzer, what makes you think you’ll be fine in an arena full of people? Have you learned nothing from your last performance?”

She asks you questions but doesn’t give you time to respond, she immediately cuts in. “And your jumps, how is it that you haven’t managed to master your jumps? You are well past the age to be scared of falling. Your hesitation will cost you this title.”

Silence falls over the both of you, Coach has her hands on her sides and just stares. You know what she's doing. She’s thinking of how you’ll be punished for this oh-so-horrible performance today.

“Tomorrow you will march yourself to the management office and ask for an extended time.”

Your eyes go wide, “Coach, they’ll never give me more time. And what about my professors? They’re already at their wits end with me being gone all the time.”

Coach’s eyes sharpen, “I’m sorry, have your priorities changed? Am I wasting your time Lapin? Cause if that’s the case then say so, and may we be free of this doomed partnership.”

You cower under her stare, “No, no of course not Coach, I’ll talk to management tomorrow and see what deal I can work up with my professors.”

Pleased with the conversation going her way, Coach smiles. “Good, I’ll see you soon.”

With that, she saunters off, reaching for her phone to call god knows who.

When you’re sure she’s out of eyesight you slump down onto the bench next to you. You close your eyes and take a minute to finally catch your breath. You bring your hand to your chest, hoping to alleviate some of the tightness and discomfort.

The bench shakes and you hear something hit the ground with a thud. You open one eye and close it again when you see who it is who’s disturbed your peace.

“How oh how will you ever convince management to give you any more practice time?”

You sigh, hoping that if you ignore the nuisance next to you, he’ll get the hint and leave you alone.

“They won’t even give the team extra time, let alone one person.”

You open your eyes and turn to look at the boy sitting next to you. “I can be very persuasive.”

James, who’s lacing up his skates, mumbles a quiet “Don’t I know it.”

You stand up and gather your things. “Who Knows James, win some games and maybe you’ll get the extra time you need.”

James pauses his movement, looking up at you with a deadly glare.

It’s a sore subject and you know it. After Peter Pettigrew, one of the university's star players decided to transfer, James and the rest of the team have been dethroned. They’ve known no peace since then and are grappling with everything to win this season.

James turns back to his laces. “Hey and maybe if you learn to stop being so skittish on the ice, you’ll land that jump for once Lapin.”

This is why you’ll never feel bad for being so hostile toward James. He’s a wolf in sheep's clothing and you lose your mind every day knowing that everybody has fallen for his golden boy act.

You throw your bag over your shoulder, swatting at the back of James' head on your way out of the arena.

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

You’re pacing back and forth in front of the management office. You’ve gone over every possible excuse that could convince them to give you more time. You will convince them, or Coach will have your head on a platter. You’ll butter up the sweet old lady who works the front desk, you’ll dazzle her, and she’ll sign whatever she needs to.

With one final pep talk, you walk into the office and freeze at the door.

Shit.

It’s not the sweet old lady.

Sitting at the front desk is Remus Lupin. ‘This is fine’ you try to convince yourself.

You saunter up to the desk “Good morning Remus, you look fantastic today, do anything different with your hair?”

Remus puts his book down, looking up with a sweet smile, “No, did the same thing I always do. How can I help you?”

You lean onto the counter and start messing with the pen jar. “You, my love, can sign off on my extra ice time.” you choose not to make eye contact, continuing to swivel the pens around the jar.

Remus sighs, dragging your name out, “You know I can’t approve any more time for you, the school won’t allow it.”

You stomp your foot out of habit, “ But Remus, I got all my professors to give me as many extensions as I need, really all I need is for you to say yes.”

Remus, always bursting your bubble, “It’s not about class love, It’s about your health. You know how the system works.”

You groan and bring your head down onto the counter. You knew this would be your biggest obstacle. All athletes have to adhere to certain rules. The university claims that it’s to protect the athlete's health but everyone knows it's so they don’t get backlash for overworking their student-athletes. You're allotted a certain amount of hours but anything over that has to be flagged and reported.

“Listen,” Your head shoots up, “I can maybe convince them to a lot you a bit more time, but you’ve got to go to your physical therapy sessions. Doc has to report when you don’t show you know.”

“Okay yes, fine, I pinky promise that I will see Doc, and stretch and stay off the ice for 30 minutes after eating, and-”

Remus cuts you off with a laugh, “Okay, okay I get it. I’ll talk to the board and see what I can do.”

You squeal, reaching over the counter to smack a kiss on Remus’s forehead. “You are a lifesaver Remus Lupin.”

Remus just shakes his head, “Yeah yeah, whatever, get out of here.”

You happily skip out of the office, so happy, that not even running into James Potter in his gear could upset you.

You offer a simple “James” and go to walk past him.

“Woah, what's got you all happy?”

You give him a sly smile, “Oh nothing, I’m just having a lovely morning.”

James furrows his brows at you, “Okayyy. Was Rem in the office?”

You nod at him, “Yes, my sweet, beautiful, lovely Remus is in there. How he’s friends with the lot of you, I’ll never understand.”

James is insulted but is weirded out more than anything.

Not caring to interact any further you wave goodbye.

James, still confused, continues into the office.

You don’t get far down the before James is yelling your name down the hallway. You roll your eyes, continuing on your way. You hear thumping and there’s a yank on your wrist.

You yelp out of surprise. James without a word is dragging you back towards the office. You both enter and Remus is shaking his head.

You rip your wrist out of James' grip, “I’d like that back thank you.”

You smile at Remus, “Hi love, so good to see you again.”

“Likewise.”

James snaps his fingers, “Quit it you two, Remus just told me you’re getting more time on the ice.”

“Why yes I am. I told you James, do better at your sport and good things come your way.”

“Guys please don’t start. I don’t want to have to kick you out again,” Remus says.

James disregards your insult, “You can’t get more time, you’re already maxed out on hours, they’ll never approve it.”

You shake your head in faux symphony “Oh James, I told you I was very persuasive.”

This seems to bring his attention back to his friend. “You” he points a finger aggressively toward Remus’s direction, “How could you say yes? You're the iron wall, no one shakes you down.”

Remus gives a weak shrug, “Okay, I wasn’t shaken down, we made a deal”

James rolls his eyes, “Oh yeah, and what was that?”

“She’ll see Doc, every appointment, she has to go.”

James looks confused. “How is that a deal? It's protocol.”

“Wellll” Remus drags.

The look on James’ face darkens. His attention is on you now. “You don’t see the Doc?”

You try not to be intimidated by his glare. “I just don’t see the point of seeing him after every practice. I mean come on, my body is my instrument, of course, I know how to take care of it.”

Whatever lightness was in the air, is gone now. James is genuinely upset and you can’t wrap your head around why.

“Are you kidding me, so what, you’ve just been skipping out on all your appointments?”

All you can do is shrug. Remus, who can sense the shift in the atmosphere, tries to intervene. “Look, I don’t even know if it’s a guarantee, I still have to ask the board.”

Your heart drops. “No. I need the time. You said you’d get me the time.”

Remus, who has unfortunately been caught in both James and your fury, doesn't know how to turn this conversation around.

“And what about your work, do you even go to class anymore?”

“I’m doing great in all my classes.”

“That doesn't answer whether you're going.”

“What does it matter? Virtual or not, It’s only until after the competition.”

James takes his glasses off and rubs at his forehead like he’s trying to ward off an oncoming headache. “So, just like that, you get the time, extensions on school work, and a pass from all the appointments you missed with Doc.”

You sigh, “I don’t get it James, are you jealous, is that what it is?”

This strikes a nerve in James. “You think that's what this is about?”

“Well” you throw your hands up, “what else could be?”

James puts his glasses back on and steps up to you, “You know what, if you want to overwork yourself and fuck up any chance you get at the actual competition, go ahead, seems like everyone is right behind you.” with that, James storms out the office.

Remus walks out from behind the desk and gives a light squeeze to your shoulder, “I don’t understand why you two work each other up so much.”

“He’s wrong,” you say quietly. Remus listens. “I’m better than I’ve ever been. I need this Remus, I need to win this. I need to show everyone that I can do it.”

Remus, with a sad look in his eyes, pulls you in for a hug. “Everyone knows you can, you’re amazing.”

You sigh and pull away. “It doesn’t matter how good I am, all everyone sees now is the girl who messed up last year. All my hard work was reduced to one stupid mistake. I have to get it right this time.”

Remus just sighs, he’s seen this version of you before, and he doesn’t like where it’s going.

He grabs you by the shoulders, “Promise that you’ll go to Doc.”

“Promise that you’ll get me my time.”

He sticks out his pinky, encouraging you to lock yours with his. You do.

“Thank Rem”

“Don’t make me regret love.”

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

To everyone's surprise, the board does accept your request for additional time. You're ecstatic. Coach won’t show it but you know she’s semi-impressed.

With the new time, the ending of your practice marked the beginning of the kid's ice class. Every time you did any sort of jump or spin you could hear a dozen little aws and wows.

You felt fantastic, Coach was in a decent mood, and practice was long but the scary women had minimal feedback. For the first time in a long time, you felt on top of the world.

“Okay, that’s enough for today.”

You walk off the ice, putting your guards on. Coach gives you final pointers and is out of the building before you can say bye.

You sat on the bench, undoing the laces of your skates when a group of the girls from before comes up to you. They flutter around you, asking all sorts of questions and giving endless praises. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t feel your heart swell with pride and joy.

You're talking about costumes when you hear your name being called. Standing towards the entryway are Doc and James.

You knew this day was going to well, you had forgotten that today was your scheduled appointment with Doc. As for James, every time you see him your day is ruined. The two of you hadn’t spoken since the whole incident in the office. Remus had tried to get the both of you to make amends but neither of you had the intention of doing so.

You put your slipper on and make your way over to pair.

“Hey remember me? Long time no see.” You know Doc is trying to be silly but your heart beating faster at the mere thought of having to get checked up.

The bespectacled figure clears his throat. “Haven't you heard Doc, our ice princess got more ice time so she's been pretty busy.”

You cross your arms. Reaching a hand to rest on your sternum, feeling a slight tug at every breath you take.

Doc disregards James petty comment, immediately picking up on your discomfort. “You okay?”

James looks puzzled, glancing back and forth between the two of you, looking for whatever he missed.

You shrug. “Yeah, it's just, well..you know.” Doc just nods.

“Know what?” James blurts out. From the look on his face, you can tell that he didn't mean to say that out loud.

You frown, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly something.”

“Okay, well it’s none of your business is it.”

“OKAY,” Doc yells, cutting both of you off. “James I’ll do what we talk about, now move along.”

James lingers for a bit before he finally walks off.

“Now you” Doc starts, “Shall come with me.”

You know that there isn’t any way to avoid this and follow right behind him.

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

Doc makes small talk throughout your checkup. You give replies, trying your best not to come off like you don’t want to be there.

You’re in the middle of doing a stretch when Doc says “So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?”

You lay on your back and bring a knee up to your chest, staring up at the ceiling. “Do we have to?”

Doc hums, “I think we should.”

You bring your leg down and lift the other to your chest “Okay, well then I guess.”

Doc stands at your side and offers a hand to bring you up from the ground. You sit on the ground and Doc sits in front of you. “I need you to know that what I did, was not only part of my job as your doctor but as someone who cares deeply for you lot.”

You fidget with your fingers as Doc continues. “And I had to report the appointments that you were missing. I know you guys like to joke around with me but I am a healthcare provider before anything else and you can loathe me all you want but know my actions are never meant to harm you.”

Ugh, you feel like such an asshole now. “I don’t hate you Doc, I know you're just doing your job. I think-” you pause, trying to gather your thoughts, “I think in my head If I didn’t do my checkups, there wouldn’t be anyone to tell me that something could potentially be wrong.”

Doc nods, and you continue “I should’ve listened to you back then, with or without the jump I would've lost anyway.” You say with a sad smile. “This time has to be different, I have to land that jump, I have to win this one.”

Doc gives you an odd look. “I’ll be watching you like a hawk, you need to take care of yourself. I won’t watch you hurt yourself for this again, will you hate me then?”

You feel your body stiffen, you need this, so you think you might.

“I mean it when I say this one is mine this year.” you have never been more serious in your life.

“Oh trust me, I believe you.”

It doesn’t have to be said, but you think that you and Doc might be a bit further apart than before.

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

You’re counting down the weeks. The competition is getting closer with each day that passes. You’ve spent more time at the arena over the past couple of weeks than you have in your dorm.

Practice isn’t until later today, but you ambushed Remus when he was walking into the rink this morning.

Now here you are, skating freely in the dimly lit rink. Remus gets horrible migraines and chooses to leave the lights off for as long as he can.

You glide across the rink, twisting and turning whenever you please. Some time has passed when you come to a stop. All you can hear is the sound of your labored breath. You do your breathing techniques, trying your best to regulate your heartbeat.

Your nerves spike back up when you see James skating towards you and feel speed.

He halts right in front of you. “Are you okay?”

All you can do is nod, not being able to form words quite yet. James doesn’t say anything else for a while. He watches and waits as you catch your breath.

When you seem to have calmed down he jumps to question you. “What on earth was that?”

You shrug, “I just got a bit winded I guess.” He blinks at you, “That's not the first time it happened though.”

James, always so annoyingly inquisitive.

“I’m fine James, where the hell did you come from anyway? The rink isn’t open yet.”

You both kick into a slow skate around the rink. “That's rich, considering you’re here too. Also, you forget that Remus is one of my best friends.”

“How could I forget, you remind me every time I interact with him.”

“Well, that's because I can’t seem to understand what hold you’ve got over him. He folds instantly when it comes to you. You know I had to beg him for 20 minutes to let me in.”

You give a triumphant smile, “Remus and I have a bond that exceeds any and all relationship types, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

James scowls, ‘Stop talking about your special bond with Remus.”

“Jealous?”

“No!” James responded a bit too quickly. “More like deeply disturbed.”

“Not as disturbing as you and Sirius,” you say, skating a bit faster to get ahead of him.

“Hey! Don’t bring Sirius into this.”

You tsk, “So quick to defend his honor. Tell him I’m still waiting on our date by the way.”

“Oh please, Sirius goes on dates with anything that moves so don’t hold your breath.” Whatever honor and respect James had for his best friend earlier is out the window.

You hum, not offering him a real response. James, changing the subject, “Was that a routine earlier?”

“A routine with no music?” you ask sarcastically.

James rolls his eyes, “I'm just asking because it looked familiar.”

Familiar? Why would it look familiar?

“Spend your days off watching figure skating routines?” you say as you skate backward in front of him.

He shakes his head, “No, just yours.” he doubles down quickly, “Well cause, we skate at the same rink and all that.”

It’s too late, what he’s said has already gone to your head. You bring a hand to your heart mockingly, “The James Potter, Hockey legend, watches my routines. What an honor.”

James makes a face at you, “Oh whatever, forget I said anything.”

You continue “I can’t believe I am skating with James Potter.” you say as you skate around him.

James can’t help but laugh. “Okay quit it you’re gonna make me dizzy. God knows how you spin the way you do without throwing up.”

You continue at his side. “Years and years of practice.”

“So, the routine, what's it from?”

You let out a long sigh, “It was bits and pieces from my finals routine last year.”

James says a quiet ‘oh’

“Mhm” is all you can offer back.

“I was there, you know?” James fidgets with his glasses. “Well, I mean, me and the whole team—half of the university, really.”

This shocks you. You knew a lot of peers and locals from your university town showed overwhelming support, but for some reason, knowing James was there makes you…happy?

“Well, you picked the worst one to turn up to.” You try to make a light-hearted joke, but it doesn’t work.

James comes to a stop on the ice. You stop with him. “You really scared everyone.”

You scoff, “More like disappointed everyone.”

“No” James replies sharply, “I can assure you that no one in that arena was disappointed and you’ve got to stop thinking that.”

You feel an argument brewing. “And what about you James? What did you feel? Please share with the gallery.”

“I-” he pauses for a second. “I was scared too, and then I was angry.”

“Angry?”

He nods, “Angry. I was angry at you. I was angry that you’d attempt to do something so-”

He cuts himself off, trying to restrain himself.

“Something so what James? Go on say it” You egg him on.

He yanks his glasses off his face, a habit he has when he’s frustrated. “Fine! Something so stupid. I couldn’t, for the life of me wrap my head around why you would purposely do something so stupid.” James doesn’t stop there. “I couldn’t understand why you would disregard Doc's orders. I was angry that you had such little regard for yourself and your body.” James throws his hands up,” and all for what?”

You clench your fist tight at your side. You feel the anger flare up inside you. “All for what?” you laugh bitterly. “Is that how you see what I do?”

James doesn’t respond. His silence only angers you more. “I did what I thought was necessary okay? I worked too hard all last year to just give it up. I made a mistake, I understand that, and I have spent every moment since then trying to make it up.”

You inch closer towards James, “Do you know how humiliating it is to have all my hard work be reduced down to one single mistake? I am perfect my whole career but the second I have one slip-up I'm stripped of all my wins, all my medals. Everything I’ve worked for, completely disregarded.”

James stares at you with wide eyes. “Is this what this is about? About ruining your perfect reign? Do you know how insane that sounds?”

You groan, “I could hold my tongue hearing this from anyone else, but you of all people James, Seriously? You are such a hypocrite.”

James glares at you. “And what exactly are you alluding to?”

“You,” you say, shoving a finger in his chest, “are a hypocrite. You think I don’t see what you’ve been doing. Ever since Pete left you have been overcompensating, trying to fill a role all by yourself. The late night and early morning practices. Taking on extra responsibility on the ice. Spreading yourself thin to make it to nationals.

“That’s different.”

You laugh “How on earth is different James?” you can't believe this guy.

“It’s different because It’s temporary until we find someone else. It’s different because I take care of myself. It’s different because it’s a whole team of us that care about each other. Yeah, I'm stepping up right now but I can always step back and rely on the guys if I need to. You, however, have..well you just don’t..” he sighs, “you’re alone.”

You back up from him, “You’re unbelievable.” you start skating to exit the rink. You hear James call after you. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever James, just leave me alone.”

“Would you just let me explain?” he desperately calls out. You swivel around the ice quickly, turning to face him. You have a snarky remark to give but it's out the window when James fully runs into you. Before both of you can catch yourselves, you both fall onto the ice.

You yelp out in pain when James falls right onto your foot. He’s off of you quickly. “Holy shit are you okay?”

You don’t answer, attempting to stand up. When you put pressure on your right foot, a sharp pain shoots through your ankle. James must see the pain in your face, “I'm so sorry I didn’t think you were going to stop. Let me help you back.”

You shake him off, “No it’s fine, I’m fine.” you go to kick off the ice and the pain brings you to your knees. James reaches for you but you push his hands away.

No no no, this can’t be happening. You feel your heart start to pick up. You can barely hear James over the ringing in your ear. You stand up one more time, pushing off with your left leg this time. You make it somewhere but when you push off your right leg out of habit you double over in pain.

You hear James grimace from behind you. “Alright, that's enough.” James wraps your arm over his shoulder and takes most of your weight. You can’t deny him, having no other way to get off the ice. He glides the both of you to the exit. The second your feet reach the matted floors you push away from him and limp to the nearest bench. You're pulling and tugging at your laces aggressively. When your skate is loose enough you yank your foot out, crying out in pain. You roll your sock down both you and James gasp. You throw the skate that’s in your hand.

You bring your hands to your eyes, feeling that annoying sting. “Fuck!” This is not happening. You did not just ruin your chances for this year because of one little accident.

“I have to get Remus.” you grip James' wrist stopping him in his tracks. “Absolutely not!”

James tries to pull his wrist from you but you bring your other hand to grab at it. “Don’t say anything, please. I promise I’m fine.” James looks at you bewildered, “Are you insane? Your ankle is purple.”

“I bruise easily. I promise it's fine.”

“Walk on it.”

What. “What?”

James shrugs, “Walk on it. Walk from here to those bleachers.”

You go stand up, his eyes never leaving you. You take your first step and feel the same sharp pain you flinch but take your next step. You take step after step, pushing through the blinding pain. You make it to the bleachers and turn to face James. “See, it’s fine.”

James stares at you in disbelief. He walks up to you “You are unbelievable.” He grits out.

James leaves without saying anything else. Leaving you in the dark arena.

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

It’s been three days. You managed to convince Coach to give you time off, telling her that you had some projects to catch up on. Pleased with your recent performance, she reluctantly granted you some free time. No practice meant no Doc visits. Three days and radio silence from James. You were so sure that he would've said something to someone by now but you aren't called in for any meeting or evaluations.

Three days later and your ankle is still purple and throbbing. You’ve taken way too many painkillers for it to be safe but it’s your first day back and you have to act like you feel fine.

You walk into the building. You put on a smile and are prepared to give the best performance of your lifetime. Coach is already standing by the ice. You go towards the locker rooms but you stop when she yells your name.

She looks annoyed when you walk up to her. “Hey Coach”

She puts her phone down. “Look, they are cutting into your time today because they have to get the ice ready for the game tonight. I’m going to need you to do a quick warm-up and get right into running the routine. Jumps and all.”

You nod, “Yes ma’am.”

You put your bag down on the bench and start getting ready. You’re lacing up your skates when you hear a chorus of laughter. You lift your head to see James, Remus, and Sirius all chit-chatting while exiting the office hallway. Sirius catches your eye and you’re too slow to look away. He’s caught you.

“Lapin!”

Oh god.

You hear them make their way over.

“Where have you been? We haven’t seen you in ages.”

You yank tightly at your laces and wrap them around your ankle. “Oh don’t exaggerate. It was only three days.”

Sirius scoffs, slouching down onto the bench next to you. “Yeah, that’s forever for you. I feel like lately you’ve been here every day.” you roll your eyes at him.

“I had schoolwork to catch up on.”

Remus hums, “Look at you. Working hard.”

You lean back on the bench. “What can I say? Anyway, I’m back. Try not to stare too hard Sirius.”

Sirius' shoulder bumps you. “Hey, what about Remus?”

You stand up, “You my darling.” pointing a finger at Remus. “Can stare as long and hard as you’d like to.”

There is a slight tinge of pink on Remus’s face but he laughs it off. “Quit you two.”

Your attention turns to James clearing his throat. This whole time he hadn’t said anything, just staring at you, analyzing your every move.

The two of you stare at each other, tension thick in the air. He drags his eyes slowly down your body. Any other person would think he has no shame but you know it’s nothing like that. You know exactly what he’s looking for. James' eyes linger on your ankle, mostly hidden by your skates.

James tilts his head, “Hmm”

Sirius and Remus, having no idea what's going on, simply stand there.

“Hmm? That’s all you're gonna say?”

Jamea shrugs. “What else is there to say? Everythings fine.”

For the past three days you’ve done nothing but worry about James snitching on you. It’s brought you nothing but stress and anxiety. Why hasn’t he said anything?

You open your mouth to say something. “Yeah sure everythi-”

“Lapin! On the ice. Now!”

James continues staring at you. If he thinks you’re going to crack, he’s going to be waiting for the rest of the day.

You walk away with as much ease and poise as you can.

The pain in your foot isn’t gone. You’ve got a purple bump to prove it but you’ve taken enough pain meds to hold off some of the pain for now. You skate around the ice, warming up. Every time you kick off you feel the twinging pain but do your best to ignore it. Coach doesn’t let you warm up for long.

“Lapin, run the routine.”

You’re heart drops, you didn’t think she’d get straight into it but she must want to take advantage of the time you had on the ice.

You take a deep breath, already feeling the normal burning sensation in your lungs. You get into position. You steady yourself into your starting pose. You lock eyes with James. They’re all leaning onto barriers. Neither of you breaks eye contact. Finally, you hear the starting notes of your music and begin. You kick off beautifully, moving across the rink in a matter of seconds. You glide elegantly across the ice. The music begins to swell, the first jump is coming up. You breathe in, brace yourself, and jump. You spin, almost landing perfectly. There is a bit of wobble but nothing you can't make up in the next couple of jumps. You continue your program. You jump again. Spinning and landing. This one is perfect, no wobble. You keep moving, swelling with pride. You can’t see anyone but the lack of yelling lets you know that Coach is somewhat satisfied with the jumps. You push on, beginning to feel the pain in your foot. You ignore it as best you can. It’s when you're landing your third jump that the pain shoots up through your ankle. It leaves you breathless for a second but you compose yourself. You skate, you skate and skate and skate until you hear yelling over the music.

“Get her off the ice right now!”

You bring yourself to a stop. You look over to the commotion and see the coach with Doc. Standing right next to both of them is James.

You stay on the ice, trying to catch your breath.

It’s Coach's turn to yell at you. “Lapin, come here right this instance.”

Your heart continues beating quickly. You make your way over and when you're at the exit, Coach is pulling you by the arm, heading straight for the benches.

“Sit.”

You look between her and Doc, you can’t even bear to look at James.

“What on Earth is going on?!”

“Take your skates off!”

“Excuse me?”

“Skates. Off. Now.”

You reach to slowly start untying your skates. It doesn’t matter how slow you move. They all sit and wait.

Once they’re both off Doc kneels and reaches for your ankles immediately.

“Woah what the hell are you doing?”

“Which one James?”

Your head snaps towards James. You’re caught, you know it, but if James says something now you’ll hate him for the rest of your life.

James must see it in your face. He’s silent for a second.

“Which one is James? I'm not going to ask again.”

James looks away and answers. “The right one.”

Without another second wasted, Doc is yanking your sock down, revealing a swollen purple ankle. Both Doc and Coach gasp.

“Lapin, what the hell were you thinking?”

You scramble to save this. “It’s not as bad as it looks! I promise!”

You look between Coach and Doc and all you see is pure disappointment. Coach runs a hand through her hair.

“Why? Why are you so adamant about hurting yourself? Do you not realize that you could mess this up beyond repair. What will you do then?”

Your eyes start to sting and you feel them watering up. “I didn’t mean to. It was a stupid accident.”

“Well, that’s exactly my point. You are a star athlete. What are you doing having stupid accidents? You are meant to be taking care of yourself.”

You feel the tears begin to fall. “Oh, now you care? Where was this lecture when you let me skate last year? Or how about all the times I skipped my appointments? How many appointments did you let go unattended? How many times did you look the other way?”

You stare at your coach in anger and she looks right back at you with a look you can’t place.

Doc cuts in. “We need to get it checked out.” You go to stand up and Doc tries to help you immediately. “You really shouldn’t be walking on it.”

“I’ve been doing it just fine.”

Doc shakes his head and reaches to help again. “I mean it. I don’t want you walking on it. James can you come hel-”

You cut him off immediately. “Absolutely not. I said I’m fine. I can walk by myself.”

Realizing that he can’t stop you, Doc lets you start making your way to his office. James follows behind immediately, calling you names. You ignore him but he won’t stop. He grabs your arm. You hear him quietly beg “Please, can you just listen.”

You yank your arm out of his grasp. “I never want to hear from you again, James Potter. I hate you.” you spit out venomously. James displays a clear look of hurt. You leave him there, making your way down the hall alone.

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

After a thorough investigation, Doc diagnoses you with a bad sprain. It would have been fine if you had sought medical help immediately, or so he says. You don’t speak if you don’t have to, only offering quiet yes’s and no’s.

Doc is finishing up when you do finally speak a full sentence. “When am I cleared to skate again?”

Doc sighs, like who knew the question was coming. “Well, that’ll be up to you.”

He moves around the room, gathering things for your kit while speaking. “You wanna get better fast, you’re gonna have to take care of that ankle.” he walks over, handing you the kit and paperwork. “That means no agitating it, no skating, and definitely no competition.”

You knew this was coming but hearing it breaks your heart. You feel your eyes start to water again.

“Look,” Doc starts. “I'm really sorry. I knew how much this meant to you.” His words go in one ear and out the other. You silently stand up and grab all your things. You can’t bear to be in this rink anymore. You reach for the newly prescribed crutches and adjust yourself. Doc watches silently. You whisper a quiet thank you and goodbye. You make your way out of the building, trying your best to ignore all the stares. The rink, now busy with people waiting for the upcoming game.

Everyone pushes to get in when you want nothing more than to get out. Every look you receive is filled with pity that you don’t want. You finally make it out, trekking through the parking lot to get to your car. Once you're in you turn it on and drive in silence. When you're in your dorm you head straight to bed. Holding onto one last hope that all of this is just a dream.

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

You know you shouldn’t be here. Well, technically nothing is stopping you from being here. But with Coach currently giving you the cold shoulder, Doc banning you from skating, and James on your hate list, Coming to the rink might not be the smartest of ideas.

That is why you are here right now, at night. You’ve been out for over a week and feel like you’ve been going stir-crazy in your room. Technically the rink is closed. It has been for the past three hours. However, you know Burnie, the maintenance man, doesn’t leave until a while after.

You’re shaking in the cold when you see him walk out the front, going to lock it. He smiles when he sees you. You can't help but smile back. “Hey Burnie.”

“Hey sweetheart” He greets you with just as much enthusiasm as always. “Whatcha doing here?”

“I forgot a couple of things in the locker room. Thought it might be time I come and get it.”

He eyes you suspiciously. You can’t help but laugh. “Burnie I promise I’m just here for some things. Look, no bag, no skates,” you say as you spin in a circle for him.

He reaches to steady you. “Woah okay now. Be careful on that foot.” he sighs. “Alright sweetheart, I'm gonna trust you on this, run in and grab your things and I’ll wait for you right here.”

“What, Burnie no. I'm not gonna make you wait out here in the cold. Plus you shouldn’t have to stay a second later. I already feel bad keeping you right now.”

Burnie’s still wavering. You sigh. “Look Burnie, I’m in a boot and I don’t know if you know this but these are a pain to take off. Both literally and physically. I just need to grab my things but I don’t want you waiting out here on me when you could be halfway home.”

“Fine. You’ve convinced me. Don’t let me find out that you were skating or we're gonna have some problems, sweetheart.”

You giggle pointing at your boot. “Burnie, I already told you I can’t.”

He waves a hand, walking away. “Knowing you? You’d find a way. There are keys in Remus's desk. Lock the front door when you're done.”

“Sir yes Sir.”

You make your way into the lockers, finding your bag of things that you always leave here. You grab it and walk out to the rink. You slump down onto the bench. You start rummaging through your bag. You smile as you find all sorts of knick-knacks.

You pull out what you were looking for, your old skates. You smile fondly as you remember the skating you did in them. Your happiness morphed into sadness when remembering the people who bought you the skates. You hadn’t seen your parents since you moved out to college. Your skating was too mediocre for them to fly out and watch. You remember every single time they turned down your invitations, telling you it would be “A waste of time”.

How could that be? You had everyone telling you you’re the best skater they’ve seen in ages. You have a world champion for a coach. You have so many people coming out to watch you. How can you have all of that and it still not be enough to make your parents see you?

This is why you had to be fantastic. You were supposed to be perfect this year and the last and you ruined it. You still hadn’t told your parents about your injury. You could still hear your mother on the phone from last year. The disappointment, the lack of worry for her child, and worst of all, her deadpan voice muttering into the phone, “What did we expect, knowing you.”

You’re squeezing the skates tightly, you feel your breath pick up. You pinch your eyes shut. Nonono this cannot be happening. You know this feeling all too well. You put your hands over your ears and bring your head down. You feel the familiar tightness in your chest. You try to breathe in and out but your airways feel constricted. You sit up and start rummaging through your bag looking for an inhaler. You find one and pull it out, panicking more when you realize that it’s out of pumps. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. Hearing the heavy thump over and over again. You get up. You know you have one in your car, you just have to make it out there.

You start walking, trying your best to slow down your breathing. You can start to see the light coming from the front when you hear someone unlocking the door. You walk around the corner, fully expecting to see Burnie who’s come back to kick you out. You freeze when the person turns around.

You and James both stop in your places both gasping in shock.

“Jesus Christ you scared the shit out of me,” he says with a hand over his heart.

You don’t have time for James, so you walk right past him. James takes your silence as an insult.

“Are you still ignoring me?” you don’t answer, you fumble to get the keys out of your pocket. Reaching to unlock the door. When you do, you book it out to the parking lot. You can hear James following you.

“Seriously, you don’t show up for a week and then I find you here in the middle of the night. What were you doing anyways?” he continues behind you. James' tone changes, seeming to land on the only possible explanation. “You were skating weren’t you?” you get your car keys out of your pocket and start clicking on the unlock button over and over again.

“God” he scoffs, “You’re insane. That has to be the only explanation.” whatever else James says you can’t hear. The pain in your chest is unbearable and you start to cough at the lack of air in your lungs. The cold makes every sharp inhale burn. You finally make it to your car and swing the back door open. You jump in, yanking your bag out from under the seat. You dig through it and pull your inhaler out. You bring it to your mouth and inhale instantly.

You sit up, breathing in. Your eyes are closed but you can hear James' shoes scuff to a stop right outside your open door. You stay like this for a while. You finally feel your heart start to slow and the burning in your chest is subsiding. You open your eyes and see James staring back at you with wide eyes.

“Holy shit you have asthma?”

His complete 180 in emotions gives you whiplash.

“Yes you dickhead, I have asthma.”

James completely disregards the insult. “You had asthma this whole time. That's what Doc was asking about right? Or that time on the ice? When you get winded?”

You just nod.

“Yeah, you’re definitely insane.” you lean forward to smack his arm. “Quit calling me crazy!”

James rests a hand on the top of the car, leaning in, getting a better look at you in the back seat.

“I’m not calling you crazy. I’m calling you insane.”

You cross your arms. “So what, I have asthma. Plenty of athletes have asthma,” you say, looking up at him.

James runs a hand through his hair. “That isn’t the point. I just wish- If you could just-” Without another word he’s getting into the backseat, pushing you over to make room for him.

James clears his throat. “Listen, I’m going to say something and I need you to listen.”

Whatever you're about to say, James doesn’t let you. “Promise. Promise you won’t say anything until I’m finished talking.” You stare down at James' hand, pinky extended, waiting for yours.

You wrap your pinky around his. He drops his hand but keeps his finger interlocked with yours. You don’t pull away.

“I think you should take a break from skating.”

You roll your eyes. You push away from James but his pinky tightens around yours.

“Wait! You promised you’d listen.”

He’s got a desperate look on his face. “I watch you.”

“James what?”

“Okay no, but yes.” He clarifies. “God I’m really bad at this. What I want to say is that I notice you okay? The second you started skating here I noticed you.”

“You are frustratingly good on the ice. You’ve gotten title after title and it's got everything to do with you” James looks down, fidgeting with your joint pinkies. Ears red. “But ever since your incident last year you’ve gotten so…” he trails off looking for the right word. “Aggressive”

“You’ve gotten so aggressive with your technique, on the ice, and with yourself. There’s something different about you. Everyone thinks it's a newfound determination but I can see it in your eyes, it’s something else. You skate with no regard for your body. What happens when you push it too far? What happens when you force yourself so hard that your body gives up on you? What will you do then?”

The silence is heavy over you both. You look at James and he looks back at you with so much emotion, searching for an answer.

You let out a shaky breath. “What am I if I can’t skate? Can you tell me, James?”

He stumbles over his words, clearly thrown off by your question. He comes up blank.

“Exactly. Skating is all I have, it’s all I am.”

James shakes his head. “No, that isn’t true.”

You let out an exasperated laugh. “Do you think I’d be here right now if it weren’t for my skating? I’m here because it’s what I'm good at. I have so many people betting on me, so many expectations to uphold, so many people to prove that I’m worth it.”

James leans in closer and speaks gently. “Why do you think that you aren’t already the best? Why is it so hard to believe that you are amazing at what you do?”

His gentle tone does little to comfort you. He doesn’t get it. “If I’m so great how come my parents won’t come to see me?” you yell, your tone coming off harsher than you had intended.

You recognize the emotion behind James' stare, it’s pity and you hate it.

You can’t bear to look at him, embarrassed by your outburst.

“Hey,” you keep your gaze towards your lap.

“Hey, look at me.” you feel his hand come under your chin as he lifts your face to meet his eyes.

He unlatches his pinky from yours and brings his hand up to hold your face.

“Is that what it is, you feel like you’ve got a crowd to appeal to? Well, guess what? You don’t owe anyone anything. You skate because you love it not because you feel the need to meet intangible expectations. If your parents can’t see how good you are then that's on them, you don’t need them.”

You groan and reach for his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face. “That's easy for you to say.”

James furrows his brows at that, “What’s that supposed to mean.”

“You have your parents here offering you endless support. No offense, but you could sit out an entire game and they’d still whoop and holler about how proud they are of you. You have a team that worships the ground you walk on. You have Remus and Sirius. What do I have? Who do I have? Coach?” You raise a hand to wipe away your tears but it’s no use. “I’m a thousand miles away from everything and everyone that I love. Being good, no, being fucking fantastic is the only way to get their attention. So if that’s what I need to be then so be it.”

You let out one shaky breath and it all breaks loose. You bury your head in your hands, trying to muffle whatever mess you look like from James. After a short moment of sobbing into your hands, you feel hands pull at your arms. Before you know it, James is pulling you into a warm embrace.

The angle is a bit awkward, considering the size of your backseat but he still manages to get his arms wrapped around you. Your head lands on his chest, ear pressed against it. You stiffen at first but slowly wrap your arms around him. You both sit in silence. He gently runs a hand up and down your back, while the other rests on the back of your head, holding it. You listen to the beat of his heart, which moves rapidly. You can’t help but smile slightly. Despite being the one to make a bold gesture, he’s the nervous one.

“You aren’t as alone as you think.”

“What?” You go to lift your head but James pushes it back onto his chest. Heart beating quicker.

“You're Not alone. You have Sirius and Remus, just as much as I do if not more. They adore you a little too much. And whether you believe it or not you have Doc and just about everyone else who you cross paths with in the rink.”

He clears his throat for the next one. “And you have me.”

It’s said so quickly you almost miss it. You’re sure you would’ve if you weren’t so close to him.

You go to lift your head again but he pushes it back down. You groan. “James.”

He doesn’t respond. You go to move but he holds you in place again. “James Potter, let me look at you.”

He doesn’t budge, “I’d rather you didn’t”

“James, if you don’t let me move, so help me god.”

Your tone seems to do it. His hand slips from where it rested on your head. Once you get a good look at him, you almost laugh at the sight in front of you. James Potter, Red in the face, with a look of embarrassment so bad, he could die. He looks everywhere but at you. Eyes darting around the car.

“James”

“Yes?”

“Look at me.”

He does for a second and then looks away.

“James,” you say sternly.

“Yes?” He says picking at the seats.

Without putting much thought into it you smack both hands on his face, forcing him to look at you. You seemed to surprise him more than yourself. James stares at you with wide eyes. You’d done it without thinking and how you have no course of action.

You both blink at each other.

“What was it that you said just now?”

He doesn’t turn away this time. That's progress. “What were we talking about?” he says with a dazy voice. You look at him expectantly. James, who realizes he has nowhere to go, blurts it out.

“I said that you have me. There. Happy?” he doesn't stop there. “I said you have me because you do. All the time, every day I'm thinking about you, which is crazy considering how much you berate me. But that must be it. I must be crazy because I love it all the same. I care about you, even though half the time you make me want to slam my head into a locker, I care. So, yes, you have me.”

Through your hands, you feel the heat of his face. Despite the strong blush and red ears, James looks at you so earnestly that you can’t help what comes next.

Hands still on his face you pull him forward into a kiss. He freezes and you pull away. Just for a split moment, you worry that you made a mistake. But before you know it James surges forward, reconnecting your lips. Whatever hesitation there was before, is gone now.

His lips move against yours slowly, tentatively, exploring. You feel a finger trace the line of your jaw. Then the hand slips behind your head, bringing you closer. The sweet kiss now deepened with the hunger shared between you both. You raise your arms to wrap around his neck. You feel like you can’t breathe but you don’t stop.

With his newfound confidence, James moves forward. Your back hits the seat and James hovers over you now. He moves to lay himself over you. You feel his hand running up and down your side. You gasp into the kiss when a cold hand slips under your shirt, resting on your bare waist. James groans at the feeling of your bare skin, squeezing your side. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. You don’t want to stop, ever. But the more James runs his hands over you and kisses you with an insatiable passion, the less you can breathe.

You ignore it at first, but the aching in your chest only gets stronger. You feel like you’re drowning, and you decide that hyperventilating while making out isn’t the way to go so in one swift motion you sit up, pushing James off of you.

You breathe in harshly. James now sits up straight, staring at you wide-eyed, glasses askew. You laugh but it sends you right into a coughing fit. You start to panic a bit and search for your inhaler. James snaps out of his daze and seems to get the memo. After what feels like forever, James lifts the inhaler. “Got it” he yells triumphantly.

Snatching it from his hand, you take a couple of puffs, breathing in and out slowly.

“Woah. I guess you could say I took your breath away.”

You shoot him a look but can’t help but burst out laughing. James' laugh follows.

“No, seriously though. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit winded.”

James smirks, seemingly a bit too proud. “Sorry about that,” he says with fake sympathy.

“Sorry about what? Trying to eat my face off or trying to take me in the back of my car?”

James' face goes bright red. You don’t understand how he can be so confident yet so easily embarrassed.

“I-I okay, woah, I-” He stutters over his words.

“Gosh James, I thought you’d have a bit more class than that.”

He scoffs, “I have plenty of class and I don’t think I heard any complaints from you.”

You shrug, “Could’ve been better.”

James' jaw falls open in disbelief. “Oh really now.”

“Yup”

Before you know it he’s bringing you down to your back and you let out a yelp of surprise.

“Well since you’re so great I guess you’ll have to help me practice.”

You hum. “Oh yes, you’ll need all the practice you can get.”

James lets out a loud laugh, making your heart flutter. “Yeah, well let's hope you don’t have to reach for your inhaler every 5 minutes.”

You smack his shoulder. “Hey! I am a star athlete. I don’t think a little acti-”

James cuts you off, bringing his lips to yours. This time it's soft and sweet. James pulls away. “Talking to you is going to be a lot easier now that I can do that.”

“Keep talking and that’ll be the last time you get to do that.”

James nods quickly. “Yes ma’am. Message received.”

With a nod from you, James is back on you. He leans into you heavily, moving his lips with yours. You reach up for his glasses, feeling them start to dig into your face. James' hand comes to your wrist, stopping you. Pulling away, he rushes out a ‘wait!’

You look at him confused. “What?”

“Don’t take them off.”

“James, as much as I love your glasses, they’re digging into my face.”

James blinks at you with a slight pout on his face. “I can’t see anything when I take them off.”

“Okay?”

He sighs, “I can’t see you when I take them off.”

You roll your eyes at him. “James Potter you are such a sap.”

He rolls his eyes back at you. “Yeah, well you’ll just have to deal with it.”

“I suppose I will. Okay they can stay on”

James smiles brightly. “Yay! Now shut up and let me kiss you.”

And who are you to deny him?

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

“Alright, you guys did great today! Don’t forget to tell your parents that there won't be any classes next week.” you hear a chorus of answers promising they will. Considering you’re talking to a bunch of toddlers, you make a mental note to send out an email.

You guide them off the ice and towards their parents, waving bye to them all.

You’ve been helping teach the toddler class while their coach is out of town. Doc hadn't fully cleared you but gave you the green light to teach the little ones.

You make your way towards the office to drop off the sign-in forms. When you walk in, you’re greeted by a smiling Remus.

“Hello, love. How are the tots?”

You give him a tired smile, “Rambunctious as always.”

Remus laughs, taking the papers from you. “You think you’d take this opportunity to get away from this place but no.”

You lean forward on the counter. “And miss out on seeing you every day? No way.”

Remus shakes his head, turning away from you. Ears slightly pink. “You’re insufferable.”

Before you can respond you hear someone else enter the office. More like two someones.

James and Sirius walk over to where you’re talking to Remus. James' eyes shift from you to Remus’ red ears and then back to you.

“Hey, I thought I told you to stop flirting with Remus.” He says with a slight frown.

You shrug, “I’ve done no such thing.”

James rolls his eyes. “Yeah right. Liar.”

Sirius and Remus erupt in laughter as James pouts.

Sirius ruffles James' hair. “Oh James, it’s sweet that you think you can stop whatever it is they’ve got going on.”

James huffs, pointing at Remus. “You’ve got to stop whatever alluring charm you’ve got going on.”

Sirius laughs harder. Remus gives James a cheeky smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just myself.”

You swoon dramatically at his words. “Oh, Remus.”

“Hey! No, don't swoon!” James says, looking frantically between the two of you.

Remus and Sirius roar in laughter at his reaction.

With the other two still laughing, James walks over to you. You give him a sweet smile.

He frowns at you. “Why do you insist on giving me a hard time?”

“Someone's got to keep you on your toes, humble you a bit.” He glares at you but breaks into a smile of his own.

With Sirius and Remus now wrapped up in their own conversation, James leans in a bit closer.

“Hm, humble me? How can I be humble when you’re praising me all the time when we-” You slap a hand over his mouth, blushing furiously. You feel him smirk against your hand.

He reaches for your wrist, pulling your hand away, giving it a soft kiss. “How were the lessons?” He says changing the subject.

“They were great. Lenny didn’t cry at all this time.”

He gives you an encouraging pat on the waist. "Nice, and what about your foot?”

You shrug, “It feels fine. I think stretching before ice time helps.”

James smiles. “You’ve been doing the stretches?”

You nod. He gives you a high five “That's my girl.”

He goes silent, looking between you and his friend's chit-chatting. He leans in, whispering into your ear.

“Hey, when's your appointment with Doc again?”

You think for a minute. “Um, not till this afternoon, why?”

“So you’re free right now?”

“Yeah”

“What a coincidence, so am I.” He says with a mischievous look in his eyes.

A moment pauses.

“Well. What are you waiting for?”

James springs into action. His hand grabs yours, leading the both of you out of the office.

“Hey, where are the two going?”

Without turning around James yells out “Practice” You can’t help but laugh at the confused responses you get from Sirius and Remus.

James continues down his path, determined.

“Wait James, what about my bag and my-”

He pats the side of his bag. Hanging from a chain is one of your backup inhalers. You stare at him in shock. With a quick kiss on the forehead and a cheeky smile, James continues to drag you both out of the rink.

Practice does ensue.

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A present to you all for being MIA.

I pinky promise I'm working on the Peter series!

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter fanfiction #james potter x you #marauders era

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