#thanks for the ask beautiful have a wonderful MONDAY!

[lijojo]

genshin sugar daddies

premise: you have seven sugar daddies: one for every day of the week. a bit overwhelming, right? however, you somehow find ways to make time for each and every one of them, no matter how emotionally and physically demanding they are. it's just that, now they don't seem too keen on sharing, and you don't know what to do. (modern au)

tw: nsfw, dark content - minors dni

mondays are always harder in more ways than one. mondays are diluc's days, and that means that you're spending a good portion of your nights at angel's share.

on mondays, it's happy hour. which means that you're sitting at a booth in the corner looking pretty while diluc is tending to his customers. you're more than happy to sit back and relax while you wait for him to finish with work. when the drinks are on the house, you're willing to wait as long as it'll take.

periodically, when he's not busy, however, he'll walk over to you and engage in conversation. you act as a taste-tester for new drinks so he's always asking you if you like them. you two will talk about your day, any interesting events, and so on until diluc is pulled back into work again.

then you're back to fiddling your fingers and watching him work. over time, you've learned that he preferred that you not do anything while you were supposed to be with him. that instead, you fixated your gaze on him while he moved about. sometimes you'll catch him looking at you to see if your eyes are still on him.

even while he's dealing with a certain tone-deaf bard, there's something about the way he looks at you so intently that reminds you of a predator.

when angel's share closes, you're there to keep him company while he cleans up. when he's done, he'll sweep you away back to his manor.

you'll fall onto the sheets as he grinds against you. his shallow breaths brush against your throat. the look he gives you is nothing short of intense.

"everyone at the tavern was looking at you, you know," he mutters, running his fingers down your chest, sinking into your pants. he pulls them down effortlessly along with your panties. "didn't you feel it, darling? their filthy eyes on you. they want to ruin you. everyone wants to ruin you."

he throws your legs over his shoulders, his fingers crawling up your thighs. you jump when he suddenly inserts two fingers into your cunt, scissoring you. his free arm wraps around your leg to keep you locked against him. his eyes are glued onto you as he presses a kiss against your calf.

"but your eyes were on me all night, weren't they. couldn't take your eyes off me, could you. you're mine, dear. do you hear me? you're mine."

you don't overlook how tight his grip is. tight enough to make you wonder if he'll ever let you go. in the morning, he does, but you're scared for the day he wakes up and decides that it's for the last time.

tuesdays aren't as bad. when you’re sore from the night before, childe is there to take you out to meals, shopping, and sightseeing. he's not always available to spend time with you on tuesdays, because of his equally-demanding job and whatnot, but when he is free, he never wastes a second.

or a dollar.

childe smirks smugly from his sea. his posture is lax, one hand lazily tracing circles on the chair's arm while the other comes up to rest under his chin.

"how about you twirl for me, girlie? you look so beautiful."

you giggle, observing yourself in the mirror. "why thank you."

you bask in the way the soft satin kisses your skin. the way your newly-own earrings sparkle under the dressing room's light. just a couple years ago, you could've only dreamed of being dressed so prettily.

"do your side-bitches ever treat you as well as me?"

"childe!" you chide.

he laughs, getting up from his seat. but you both know better than to believe his little chuckle is genuine.

he approaches you, sliding his hands around your waist. tucking your head under his chin, he stares at you through the mirror's reflection.

you don't say anything, and childe doesn't either. it appears he's more than happy to enjoy just standing there. his gaze is glossed over, far away.

the two of you sway side to side for what seems like forever until he decides to say something.

"do they buy you pretty things like i do?"

of course they do, you think. although you spend one-on-one time with each and every one of them, they are all aware of each other. it's only right that they did. it was the first thing you said when you brought the idea up to them, that it wasn't going to be exclusive.

but when you see the way he looks at you, you can't really tell him the truth. not when his focus is redirected from his thoughts to you.

"the things you buy me are a special kind of pretty," you reply.

it seems like that answer is enough for him, because he doesn't say anything else. instead he hums quietly, letting the vibration ripple in the back of your head. he slides his hands down your hips and before you can say anything else, he whips his head around.

"i'll buy these sets." he motions over to the closest clothes rack to an attendant you hadn't noticed. "and that one. and the dress she's wearing. how many colors does this come in, by the way?"

the attendant doesn't hesitate. "five colors, sir. they come in bla—"

"great." he shuffles through his pocket to pull out a black card. "pack them up, we won't be here any longer," he retorts.

the attendant looks ecstatic, quickly shuffling out of the dressing rooms towards the cash register with newfound glee.

"childe," you whine. "i don't think these will fit in my closet."

his hands crawl lower, his finger hovering over your clit. "then they'll fit in mine. come over any time of the week when you want to wear one of my special pretty things."

your breath hitches as he rubs slow circles on your clit. he pushes the two of you back into the dressing room and closes the curtains.

"what are you doing, she'll be back any second—"

he kisses the corner of your jaw, pressing his lips close to your ear. "no worries. if there's one thing i'm sure about, it's that no one undresses you faster than i do."

wednesday is when usually everything calms down. kazuha will typically invite you to a new park, scenic route, or gallery. together, you'll write haikus, sonnets, and limericks together. some hours you'll just sit in silence, putting pen to paper. and when the sun goes down you'll exchange poetry.

out of the seven men, kazuha probably scares you the most. he was the first person you decided to do this whole ordeal with, after all. and since he's known you the longest, he also knows about your circumstances more than others. maybe that's why he's so focused on treating you as if you were a fragile cherry blossom petal. his touches feel like ghosts, running down your forearm as he presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek.

in exchange for his protection, his money, and his care, you give him honeyed words. you act as his muse for when he's hit a creative block. you're there to listen to him read out verses when the wind can't bear the strength to carry them. you listen to his grief about his best friend, his loneliness when he was forced to leave his home country. as someone many of the locals looked to for wisdom, he too carried the emotional burdens of being someone's rock. emotional burdens that he let onto you (whether purposefully or not, you're unsure). but you listen anyway, hearing him talk about days of poverty, where sometimes he had to worry about things to eat, or how to get proper healthcare.

you can't lie and say you're always stable enough to hear some of the things he has to say, but you try.

even if you sometimes feel like you can't take it, you just smile and squeeze his hand tighter like you're supposed to. sometimes your mind will go on autopilot, and sometimes you'll stand up on the grounds of needing to go to the bathroom. but at the end of the day, this is what you signed up for. this. making men happy so that you yourself won't have to worry about your endless debt.

you peer over your notebook to see kazuha immersed in his own writing. but instead of his usual peaceful expression, he looks somber. his hands won't leave the paper, his eyes glued onto the words that he's drawn onto the pages.

"what's got you so worked up?" you ask curiously. "is it something new?"

it's like your voice snaps him out of his trance. he blinks, looking up at you. there's a smile you know all too well on his lips. "yeah, i suppose you could call it that."

"could i look at it? i want to see what's got you so focused like that."

his lips press into a straight line. "hmmm, maybe later."

his words catch you off-guard. usually he's the one who's eager to share his work, regardless of the quality. "oh? is it something you want to keep secret?"

he doesn't many any hint of an answer. instead, he puts down his pen and stares at the ground in contemplation. he's picking and choosing what words to say.

"i could protect you," he says, shuffling his papers to the side. you turn to him, curious. his expression slowly hardens. "by myself, i mean. i could take care of you."

"kazu—"

"i have the means to make a living for the both of us. i could sell more of my poetry, i know they'll sell well—"

"where is this coming from?" you move closer to him, brushing his hair aside. "kazu, are you worried about something?"

there's something that's stopping him from saying anything. his fingers intertwine with yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

he purses his lips, before turning away and sighing. "no, not really."

after that, he doesn't say anything else. the two of you bask in silence once again. even though you're used to the quiet, there's something deep down in you that feels nervous. like something in the atmosphere changed. there's a sudden resolved glint in his eye as he get backs to writing so diligently on a piece of paper he won't let you read.

after all these days spent talking about himself, somehow you're scared for the day he suddenly decides to stop.

on thursdays you're usually at tighnari's greenhouse, watching him take notes of other plants while you twiddle your thumbs. once in a while, he'll begin rambling about the plants—what kind of species they are, how rare, their medicinal properties, and the like.

you're more of a companion, than anything. someone who can make his days a little less lonelier. and you appreciate it. it's much more tranquil with him. you can enjoy his sharp quips, especially when cyno comes to visit.

his sex-drive is relatively normal, if not a little below average. just like wednesday, you also expect thursday to be a typical rest day.

except when spring comes.

when spring comes, your routine get a little wonky. for one week, at least. because that's when tighnari's heat hits him like a fucking monsoon.

you can already tell when it's coming when he begins to hover closer to you. whenever you take your hand out to do anything, even the slightest gesture, he's already taking it and dragging it towards his sensitive ears.

the moment you've made your plans set to 'take the week off' and help him out, he's already on you, face pressed into your neck as if it's his oasis.

as you can tell, he takes this week very seriously.

"i bet—shit—those other fucks don't get to hold you as long as i do," he lets out as he fucks into you like there's no tomorrow. his hands hold onto your waist like he owns it, pressing sloppy kisses down your spine. "looking so pretty for me. i wonder what they'd say if you got pregnant with my babies. you'd be so much more beautiful plump with my kids. is that what you want huh? to make them angry with my cum stuffed in your gorgeous pussy?"

some days you almost can't believe how uncharacteristically aggressive he is. he dicks you down like he's trying to imprint his shape into the core of your body so that none of the others can fit inside.

and when he cums, he'll take whatever unfortunate portions slip out and smear it all over your chest. especially where your heart is.

then the process starts all over again.

when it's over, he'll spoon you. as if he didn't almost fuck you to death. his touch is tender, like a ghost's hovering over your skin.

"why won't you leave them all for me?"

you shift a little to look at him and kiss him softy, sweetly, on the line of his jaw. "oh, nari, you know i can't."

his ears droop at your words. "you can't, or you won't."

his words make you freeze a bit.

you think back to last week, and the week before, and the one before that. you think about why you started selling your services in the first place, the endless debt you used to be in, and the progression of the relationship between all seven of your...contacts. even if you wanted to, you don't think you could back out if you tried. you've dug a hole for yourself. one deep enough to cause some sort of disruption if you ever decided to stop digging.

so you just hum. "you know how much i love routine."

as some sort of apology, you give him and open-mouthed kiss, one he's almost desperate to return. he moans, hands cupping your face to bring you closer to him.

you're well unaware how much your words have an impact him.

at the end of the week, all al-haitham wants to do is unwind. it's the only logical thing to do. no late-night drinks with the colleagues, no stressful trips to some tourist trap. on fridays, al-haitham comes home to a meal made with love.

when al-haitham's at work during the day, you're usually running your actual errands. it's when you have time to make those one-in-a-blue-moon visits to your actual home, although it's getting harder to call it that.

when it gets to the late-afternoon, you'll usually head to al-haitham's place to start cooking. if you didn't know how to cook before, you do now. every ingredient is handled with care, measured meticulously just as you knew he preferred.

and when he gets home, tired and stressed out, you're there to welcome him with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

during dinner, sometimes he'll talk to you about work or the latest research he'd gotten himself immersed with. in return, you tell him about some of your childhood memories. your likes, your dislikes, what used to be your hobbies. you do your best to keep your personal matters out of the conversation, no matter how many times he tries to pry into your private life.

sometimes dinners feel like a full on investigation, the way he keeps greeding for more information about you. he watches you eat with calculating eyes. you pretend to pay no mind to it.

in the beginning, kaveh used to join you for dinners. you always liked the guy, the way he bickered with al-haitham and riled him up. but now you've begun to see less of him, as if he never comes home on fridays at all.

after dinner, there are two different outcomes depending on his mood:

outcome one is that you'll spend the rest of the night curling up on his couch, the both of you immersed in your own books. al-haitham leans on your shoulder as he flips through the pages as if they're nothing. you can't help but feel ticklish whenever his hair brushes against your jaw.

somewhere in the middle, he'll move one hand to start fidgeting with the end of your shirt, sometimes crawling underneath to caress your sides.

outcome two is less quiet. the moment he gets home with that solemn face, you know it's coming. his voice is huskier, his responses shorter. it's usually a result of an impending deadline, colleagues being more peskier than usual.

the moment you two are done with dishes, he gingerly takes your hand and leads you up to the bedroom.

his kisses tastes like green tea and dinner. his hands run up and down your torso, trying to imprint the feel of your skin into every inch of your brain. you whimper when his thumbs press softly into your nipples, rolling them around as they harden.

your hands find purchase on his collar, tugging him impossibly close. he groans at the contact.

you let out a yelp when your back suddenly falls onto the bed. your hands are pressed onto the sheets, al-haitham's fingers encircling your wrists. his knee nudges your legs further apart, rubbing at your clit.

"don't look at the ceiling, dear, look at me," he breathes out, his hands leaving your nipples to gently guide your face towards. "that's it. good girl. just me. just look at me. only me."

he smiles.

"now, let me do god's work on your divine body."

saturdays with ayato can sometimes get hectic. some saturdays you're out getting bubble tea together and enjoying the city, and other saturdays you're hurrying to some publicitiy event hosted by the kamisato clan.

on those type of days, you can expect to wear gowns layered with shiny nylon tulle fabric. it's not as revealing as what you'd try on in dressing rooms with childe. in fact, it's a bit more modest.

today you're wearing a light-blue gown to match with ayato. you turn around to get a good look at the cute bow attached at your waist, your diamond encrusted earrings swaying along with you.

it's as if you've put on another costume. another front to wear for the night.

ayato enters the room just shortly after. in his hands is a diamond necklace to match with your stunning earrings. small smile falls upon his lips when he clasps it on.

"you're beautiful," he mumbles. you giggle when he kisses you square on the lips, licking away the tinted color.

"ayato," you press in-between kisses. you place a hand on his chest to gently push him away. "you're going to ruin my lipstick."

he pulls away with a cheeky smile, taking your wrists to wrap around his neck. "you can always put on some more later."

you pout but kiss him regardless. he tightens his hold on you in reaction, moaning into your mouth.

at these kinds of events, you're there as his plus-one. just so that other officials could stop introducing girls to him when he clearly wasn't interested in them. it'd be arguable to say that you might even be there to make the events a little less intolerable.

somewhere along the lines, you'd sleep with him in addition to being his arm candy at parties. sometimes even before: you two rushing to put on your formal attires and fix your hair minutes before the event started.

but beyond that, you started to get to know him better. he'd whisper into your ear about funny stories relating to the guests as you meet them. sometimes you'd run away in the middle of the party to binge out on the food and talk about your other interests. surprisingly, he doesn't talk about the politics behind his duties as the head of the kamisato family. not as much as you expected, at least.

instead he talks about his dreams for a family. how many kids, what their names would be, how he'd raise them. and as he talked, he'd give you this heavy gaze that you're not sure what to do with. as if he was expecting something from you.

you're beginning to believe that ayato has somehow confused contractual girlfriend with actual girlfriend.

when you had met ayaka months ago, ayato introduced you as his girlfriend. you didn't attempt to correct him—that's ayato's business. not your's. but when you're expecting ayato to come clean to his dearest sister, you're sorely mistaken.

instead, while he kisses your lips so hungrily, he subtly slips a diamond ring onto your finger.

sundays are usually kaeya's days off. although the cavalry captain's duties are seemingly never endless, he takes the day off to take a breather.

in other words, he sees you.

at first, it was just candlelit dinners. he'd walk in with a bouquet of roses, complimenting your dress and staring at you as if he was undressing you with his eyes. he'd take you to somewhere fancy, pull out the chair for you and sweet-talk you all through the night.

conversations were fun with him. you didn't have to think much at all, not about how to pay the bills, the six men in your life who seemingly began to want yours to only revolve around theirs, or being someone your not.

kaeya was probably the only one who you felt you could be comfortable with. he made you laugh, he'd tell all sorts of interesting stories, and he never made the silence feel awkward.

at least, that's how you used to be.

you see, usually after these candlelit dinners you'd both go back to his place, with him ripping off your clothes the moment the door closed. but as of recently, he's been asking to come over to your place instead more often. almost too often.

and that's not the only thing that's changed.

the sex used to be rough. heated. almost as if he was consumed by all of his pent-up sexual frustration and was only focused on getting off. he'd slurp your cunt like a man starved but he'd still rail you as if that's the only thing he cared about.

but as time passed, he's been getting more and more...sensual. the sex is much more slower. personal, almost.

vulnerable.

after dinner, he slowly slips off your clothing. one article after another, until your left in your underwear. he first kisses you on the mouth, then your neck, then your chest, then your stomach. slowly, he makes a trail of them down your body, as if no skin deserved to be left untouched.

although you made a rule that no one could leave your marks on you, it doesn't mean he doesn't try. as he kisses your lower lips, sometimes he'll attempt to leave marks close to your clit. if you're not careful, diluc will find it tomorrow.

his thrusts were always deep, but now that he's much more purposeful about it. it's rhythmic, as if he's trying to reach a new spot inside you. somewhere no one's touched.

the pillow-talks are much more longer as well. he holds you tighter now, wrapping his arms around your hips as he tangles his legs with yours.

instead of ranting on about the silly incidents he witnessed on the job earlier in the week, he talks about his feelings. towards you. towards diluc. towards himself. some nights you can handle it, some nights are too much.

but you can't say anything. not when he's holding onto you like you’re his lifeline. not when he helps you pay off your debt. and so you let his raspy voice whisper in your ear as he combs his fingers through your hair. you listen to him mumble sweet-nothings.

you're not sure if you like the adoring look he gives you as you drift off to sleep.

[springtyme]

could you possibly write more about spence and girly reader ??! i absolutely adore the one with pink chess pieces its so so cute! maybe a little thing about girly reader always getting her lipstick/gloss on spencer? whatever you feel up for though - i love love love everything you write ! <33

𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ♡

Thank you so much, dear! and thank you so much for the request! I've had so much fun with this one and the prior girly! reader piece 💕 next part

Spencer Reid x girly!reader|| Masterlist || Spencer playlist

word count: 1.3k

summary: After spending your weekend with your boyfriend, you accidentally end up leaving some evidence behind that leads to Spencer’s work family finding out that their sweet boy wonder have someone special in his life.

As you stand in front of the mirror and put on the finishing touches to your makeup, Spencer can’t help but admire the way the soft morning sunlight illuminates your beautiful features. 

Spencer truly can’t believe that someone as beautiful as you exists in this world, especially not standing here in the bathroom of his apartment getting ready on a Monday morning, after the two of you have spent the whole weekend together. How did he end up getting so lucky?  

He watches with a smile at the way you furrow your brow in concentration. The way you lean in over the bathroom counter making his heart skip a beat as you begin applying your lip gloss, making your pretty lips shine in the sunlight.

The way you move with such grace and confidence leaves Spencer in awe, feeling like the luckiest man alive to have you by his side. The sound of your laughter from the memories of the weekend together echoes in his mind, filling him with warmth and contentment. 

The focused look on your face falls, being replaced with a wide smile that could light the darkest of rooms as you catch his gaze in the mirror. Spencer’s chest tightens with the realization that he has fallen for you to an extent he never thought possible for himself. The feelings that have been growing inside him have now blossomed into something undeniable and overwhelming.

“What are you thinking about, handsome?” you ask, already knowing the answer by the way he is looking at you, his soft, brown eyes shining with love and adoration. “Just how lucky I am to have you in my life,” Spencer replies, stepping closer to wrap his arms around your waist from behind.  

You can feel his warmth seeping into your skin as he leaves a sweet kiss on your temple, causing a shiver to run down your spine. With him holding you like this, you can’t help but feel a surge of love and gratitude flood your heart.

“I feel lucky too, Spence,” you say, turning around to face him, your eyes meeting his and reflecting the love and adoration you see in them. You can’t believe how much your feelings for him have grown in such a short amount of time, but you know deep down that he’s the one you’ve been waiting for.

As you lean in to capture his lips with yours, you feel a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that you’ve found someone who truly sees you for who you are and loves you unconditionally. 

“Are you ready to leave soon?” Spencer asks, clearly sad that work is calling you both back to reality. 

You nod with a smile. “Yeah, I’ll be done in just a minute,” you say with a soft smile before lifting yourself up on your tippy toes to plant a sweet kiss on his newly shaved cheek. 

· · · · ·

As Spencer walks into the BAU office, coffee in hand and a stack of files under his arm, he can’t help but smile to himself as he makes his way to his desk. He drove you to work before he came and he still can not quite shake the feeling of contentment and love that had lingered from the weekend spent with you.  

Derek’s already at his desk, flipping through a file, but he looks up as Spencer approaches. “You look too happy for a Monday morning, the weekend treated you that good, pretty boy?” he teases, raising an eyebrow at Spencer’s happy demeanor.

Spencer can’t help but smile a little wider, it was a really good weekend, but he tries to keep his emotions in check. He hasn’t told any of his coworkers about you yet, not because he doesn’t want to, he loves them and they are like family to him, and he loves you, but he just wants to keep this part of his life private just for a little while longer. 

He knows that if he tells the others about you, they’ll insist on meeting you. They have lovingly teased him and tried to meddle with his lack of a love life for years, and he knows how excited they would be, him being the youngest member of the team and all, essentially being the nerdy baby brother of their little work family. But he isn’t quite ready for that yet. He wants to savor this feeling of falling in love, of being with you for just a little while longer. 

His job is also very demanding and can be unpredictable and also quite dangerous. He wants to make sure that your relationship is stable and he wants to keep you from any potential harm or worry that may come with dating him for as long as possible, and you meeting his colleagues can wait a little longer. Yet he can’t help but wanting to tell Derek  

“Yeah, it was good,” Spencer replies, taking a sip of his coffee to try and hide the slight blush that creeps up on his cheeks, setting the stack of files down on his desk.  

Derek smirks knowingly, but doesn’t push the subject any further for a little while. Spencer gets to drink about half of his coffee before Derek breaks the silence again. “So, when are you going to introduce us to this mystery lady you’ve been spending all your time with?” Derek asks, a playful glint in his eye. 

Spencer hearts skips a beat as he looks up, meeting Derek’s gaze, a knowing smile playing on the other man’s lips. 

“Don’t worry I don’t think the others have noticed anything, but I know you too well, pretty boy,” Derek pauses for a moment, clearly entertained by the look of surprise on Spencer’s face, before continuing. “But I have a feeling they’ll all be very excited to meet her. And hey, if she’s got you smiling like that, she must be pretty special.”

“So now I can’t smile without there needing to be a reason behind it,” Spencer chuckles nervously, he should have known that he wouldn’t be able to hide this from Morgan for that long.

“Nah, not when you smile like that,” Derek says, a genuine warmth in his voice. “You also got a little something on your cheek there, player.” Derek points to his own cheek with a smirk to indicate where it is. 

Spencer furrowed his brow in confusion and reached up to touch his cheek. His fingers brushing over something sticky, and when he pulls them away there is a faint pink smudge on his skin.

Spencer feels heat rise to his cheeks, starting to stammer. “I... uh... well, that is, um…”

Before he can come up with a coherent response, Emily and JJ approach, their curiosity piqued by the interaction between Spencer and Derek.

“What’s going on here?” Emily asks, glancing between the two men.

Derek just grins mischievously and points at Spencer’s cheek. “Our boy genius here seems to have had a really good weekend, but he’s forgetting to clean up after himself,” Derek says, chuckling.

Spencer’s eyes widen in horror as Emily and JJ both lean in to get a closer look. The blush on his cheek deepens, spreading across his face as he struggles to find the right words.

“Spencer, is that lip gloss on your cheek?” JJ asks with a knowing smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Spencer says, trying to wipe the reminiscences of your kiss off with his sleeve, despite knowing it was too late. Emily and JJ both share a look before bursting into laughter, causing Derek to join in as well. 

As Emily and JJ start to bombard him with questions and congratulations, Spencer can’t help but steal a glance at Derek, who winks at him knowingly, looking like a proud older brother and Spencer can’t help but smile. 

Maybe it is time to introduce you to his family after all.

[ashwhowrites]

King!Steve Harrington x reader, he asks the reader out because of a bet. Happy ending!!!

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Drunk bet

Steve had a reputation in Hawkins High, and he loved it. He loved the attention from the girls and the respect from the jocks. He was cocky and smug whenever eyes watched him as he walked. He was the King and there was a line of girls wanting to be the Queen.

He could get anyone he wanted, and he had many choices. He liked the way girls chased him and all he had to do was send a smile their way.

Steve was drunk at a party, betting money on games of beer pong. If he was sober, he would remember that he was awful at that game. Hundreds of bills slapped down on the table as he missed another cup.

"Nice playing with you, Harrington" Billy smirked as he collected the money.

"Wait! Come on, rematch!" Steve slurred

"It's fun kicking your ass, but you have no more money to bet" Billy laughed

"My dad will kick my ass knowing I lost all of that. What do you want to bet on? I'll do anything to win that back," Steve said

Billy gave it a thought, he had King Steve in the palm of his hand. "Alright, Steve. I'll give you everything back if you ask out Y/N and date her for three months. Hundred for each month. We have a deal?"

"No way! If I go out with her, my reputation goes straight into the mud" Steve fought.

The thing was, Y/N was a very pretty girl. But she was nowhere near the popular crowd. And dating within the popular crowd was acceptable, dating outside of the circle was immediate destruction. He'd lose his King title.

He didn't know that Billy knew all of that. Billy wanted to be the king of Hawkins. He could take Steve down in every aspect. Steve felt stuck because he knew his father would be pissed about the money. Maybe Steve could complete the bet without anyone knowing he was seeing her.

Billy stood there with a smirk when Steve sighed and shook his hand.

~~~

Monday rolled around and Steve had to put his plan into motion. He didn't know too much about Y/N but he knew they shared a few classes together. All he had to do was get her alone, turn on his charm, and ask her out.

He waited in the hallway until it died out, slipping next to her locker when she wasn't looking.

"Hey,"

She jumped as she heard his voice, turning to see him standing there with a smile on his face. She was skeptical but stayed polite.

"Hey Steve, what's up?" She asked, closing her locker and then leaning against it.

"I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go out tonight? You can come to my place and I can cook us something"

Y/N was swooning from Steve's smile and the smell of his cologne right under her nose. She couldn't believe that Steve was interested in her.

"I would love to," she smiled, maybe all those small waves and hellos meant something to him.

"Perfect. How about you give me your number and we can talk about details after school." He said

"Sure!"

Steve smiled at how excited she was, this was going to be easy. He let her softly grab his hand and write down her number. The pen tickled his skin as she wrote on his skin.

"Call you later," he said as he pushed off the locker, sending her a wink that made her heart race.

~

Y/N arrived at the address Steve said over the phone. She was nervous as she walked up to his house. She knocked on his door and anxiously waited.

"Welcome to my casa!" Steve said as he opened the door and allowed her to walk through. It was a beautiful home, very clean and everything had a shine.

"I hope you like pizza, I've got a great recipe," he said as he trailed off to the kitchen. Y/N followed but was still in awe of the house.

"Pizza sounds great," Y/N said, Steve pulled out a chair at the counter and motioned her to sit. She sat and took in his cute apron and the towel hanging over his shoulder.

"Do you like to cook?" She asked, her eyes following him as he checked on the oven

"I love it" he replied, "parents are barely home and I got tired of take out and frozen meals." He shrugged

Y/N couldn't help but frown. She wondered if he ever got lonely, but he was popular so maybe not.

"Can I help with anything?" She asked, standing up and walking over to him. Steve smiled at her, he could see the excitement sparkling in her eyes. He already has her wrapped around his finger.

~

A month flew by and Steve believed he had this bet in the bag. Since he was always home alone, he'd ask her to come over. She didn't question why they never went anywhere and that made it easy.

He didn't have much interest in her, but he did like her company. She was funny and was fun. There was never a dull moment with her and Steve didn't realize how much fun he needed in his life.

A few weeks into the first month he kissed her.

It was soft and slow. She didn't know where to put her hands but once she got more comfortable she touched him. He kissed her a few times, letting her grow more comfortable with him and adding anything she wanted to the kiss.

~

Two months in he asked her to be his girlfriend. She said yes without a second thought, just like he thought.

He started taking her out on dates, but only in private areas. Private waterfalls for picnics and driving into another town. She saw it as all adventures. She loved to explore and her heart raced by how much Steve seemed to want to explore with her.

~

Three months in Steve felt it.

He felt a little spark when he kissed her. When she held his hand as they jumped into the cold water below, he felt warm everywhere. The sound of her laughter as they plunged into the water made him smile.

He started loving the long drives. Singing with her and dancing at red lights. He started to feel happy when he saw the excitement in her eyes when she took in something new.

How he wished he had a camera to take a picture every time she smiled at him.

They had a few drinks one night, cuddled on his living room floor as the fire roared. Lately, the bet has been the last thing on his mind and it certainly was right now. The way her skin glowed from the fire. Her shoulder was exposed from her shirt, and without thinking he leaned down and kissed the skin.

He felt something burn inside him when she moaned. Then it became the only thing on his mind, making her moan and moan again.

They had sex on the floor in front of the fire, the beer bottles scattered on the floor. His forehead was against hers as he pushed himself in and out of her.

~

Steve knew he'd have to face Billy now that the three months were up. He didn't want to break up with her, he liked her and he liked her a lot. He knew he fucked up with how they started and he planned for her to never know.

Billy pulled up to his house, honking the horn as he got out.

Steve groaned as he rolled out of bed. Y/N was asleep, so he quickly left the room. He raced out to make Billy stop the honking. Once Billy saw him, he stopped.

He had a big smirk as he took in Steve's appearance.

"My oh my, sex hair and scratches? Someone had a good time," Billy chuckled.

"Look, I'm out of the bet. Keep the money and we're even." Steve said

"Oh, why? Fucked her and now you're in love?" Billy scoffed, "King Harrington settles for the pretty nerd."

"Billy, just stop. You get to keep the money, so let's keep this between us. She doesn't have to know" Steve hissed

"Alright, man. I'll keep this little bet between us, but what's your plan? Gonna have to start taking her out in public at one point, people will see and your reputation is doomed. And also," he said, stepping closer to Steve as he lowered his voice, "she's right behind you."

Steve gulped as he was fast to turn around. She stood there in his shirt from the night before. Her arms crossed as tears ran down her face.

Billy laughed as he got back in his car, but before he sat down he whistled.

"If you need a rebound, I'm here, gorgeous," he winked at her.

They watched as he raced out of Steve's driveway, leaving them alone.

"Y/N," he started but she already was running inside.

"I CAN EXPLAIN!" he shouted as he raced into his house, he was quick to head up to his room. She was yanking off his shirt and throwing on her clothes.

"I don't care anymore. You're just as much of an asshole as I thought." She hissed, angrily putting on her pants. "I should have known better. 'Oh baby, I just want you all to myself and I know this romantic spot at the lake,' you just didn't want anyone to see us together!" She mocked his voice as she headed out of his bedroom.

"I know! I'm so sorry and I fucked up. But please believe me. You heard me tell him to keep it right? You heard me!"

"Yeah, I heard you! But I never heard you admit any feelings for me. Why? Too scared to admit that to Billy? Knowing your reputation is on the line?" She scoffed, sliding on her shoes.

"I do have feelings for you! Yes, it was a bet initially but I fell for you. I really like you and I didn't want us to break up. I want to be with you," he cried, tears falling down his face as he grabbed the front door knob.

"Yeah, well I don't want to be with you." She snapped as she slammed the door behind her.

~~~

Steve gave her time to cool off but when Monday arrived he had his eyes set on her. He followed her around and begged for her to listen to him. People were staring and whispering about them in the halls but Steve didn't care.

Finally, she stopped, turning around as Steve's body smashed into hers.

"Quit following me around, this time I don't want to be seen with you," she declared, ignoring the kicked-puppy look in his eyes. "Take a look around, any girl would jump at the chance to be with you. And you wouldn't have to be ashamed of them, leave me alone and find someone else."

She went to turn around but Steve grabbed her shoulder.

He looked into her eyes and she tried to keep her hard face on.

"I don't want them. I don't want to look elsewhere. I'm looking at the girl I want. I'm sorry for everything and I'm sorry I thought you were someone to be ashamed of. You're not. You are the best person I have ever met and I'm begging for another chance."

She watched as he dropped to his knees and held her hand. She smiled awkwardly as the school stared and gasped.

"People are staring!" she hissed

"Good, because then you will see that I don't care who sees us. Y/N, will you please give me another chance? We don't have to label it right away, we can start with a date and talk through everything. All I ask is you say yes in the moment and we can think about it later."

She sighed, looking down at their hands. In his eyes, he looked sincere and sorry.

"Fine," she sighed, smiling to herself when Steve's face lit up, "But we will be thinking about it later."

"Deal!" he cheered as he stood up. She was caught off guard when he swooped her into a kiss. She ignored the crowd around them as she kissed him back.

[elssero]

best friends big sister

i.midoriya

♰ nsfw/suggestive, sub!izuku

bakugo tried to keep you a secret from his friends-he really did. facing the inevitable reaction they would have to you was not something he wanted to face right now.

he manages to do so until half way through his first year in college when he begrudgingly brings kirishima home thinking you weren't there-

it goes the same way everytime- he introduces you to someone and they immediately fall for you. sometimes he feels you do it on purpose, leaning into kirishima as he introduces himself, holding his hand for a second to long when he greets you.

he watches as you bat your eyelashes up at his red haired friend. speaking to him with a tone in your voice that sickeningly seductive. his signature frown on his face.

you do it too piss him off, you know he hates it when his friends fawn over you- it's been happening since you were little after all.

he hates how kirishima doesn't shut up about you after that- your only a year older right?? means he would totally have a chance if it wasn't for the oh so sacred "bro code."

it doesn't stop his gushing though- soon his entire friend group is aware of who you are. they're stalking your instagram during lunch. they beg him to hang out at his place in hopes of the chance they'll get to see you- to have a conversation with you.

he complains about it constantly- "shitty hairs askin' about you again." you can't help but giggle at the scowl on your brothers face- he really does get so wound up over nothing.

it's not like you don't face the same- your own friends all agree that your younger brother is insanely attractive. you don't let it get to you though- you know your both crazy beautiful- your siblings after all.

you tease him about it regularly- "when are those friends of yours coming over next kats?" and he just grumbles- something about him being forced to partner up with some stupid nerd for a project due on monday so he can't hang out with his chosen friends this weekend. your excited at the idea of a new face- a new name to tease bakugo about.

imagine your shock when none other than izuku midoriya knocks on your house door at 10am sharp that saturday morning.

he's grown. that much your sure about- he towers over you now- forcing you to bend your neck backwards to look up at him.

his face immediately flushes when he sees you-clearly not expecting you to be the one to open the door.

he feels silly- his curses at himself in his head for his stupid crush he's had on you since childhood. he's an adult now. a proper adult with proper adult problems- yet he can't seem to hold himself together when your in his vicinity.

he knew he should've just invited kachan over to his place for the project work-

his thoughts are stopped dead in his tracks when you jump on him- pulling the boy into a tight hug as you gush about how much bigger he's gotten- how much he's grown.

he's definitely not that same little boy you knew when you were younger- at least not physically. he's built- insanely so actually. you can't help but wonder how long he spends in the gym each week-maybe you should start going when he's there-

he squeaks out a quiet hi as he fumbles against your touch- he's incredibly aware of how close you two are- your tits pressed tightly against his chest. you don't seem to notice but he does.

you let him go- much to his thanks, allowing him to regain his breathe as he shakily as he asks you how you've been.

you begin to talk his ear off and he's reminded exactly why he liked you so much when you were small. your nothing like your brother, yeah your a little teasing- maybe a little mean at times but it's clear it's all in good faith. your funny, charismatic, easy to talk too and incredibly attractive.

he's in awe of you as you speak- explaining the piles of work your dealing with due to your major, complaining about your workload.

you take a second to look at him- a small hint of nostalgia bubbling in your stomach. you really liked izuku when you were younger- not just because it pissed kats off more than anything when thee two of you would interact but because he's sweet.

he's always been a sweetheart- so nice- so helpful. your reminded of how he used to trail after you and your brother as kids- constantly wanting to be around you- standing incredibly close to you as he shook with nerves.

the two boys had a falling out when they hit middle school- you were never really told why, just that your brother and izuku were not friends anymore- if they ever really were, and you being loyal to ur little brother stopped talking to the green haired boy in solidarity- much to your dismay.

you don't really know how they made up either- all you know is that the nervous boy you haven't seen since he was a young teenage is now in your family kitchen again- and he's certainly done a lot of growing up.

you don't get long to catch up before your brother is storming into the kitchen and physically pulling the other boy up to his room- ignoring your complaints about not having enough time to talk to him- bakugo knows exactly what your doing.

izukus painfully obvious crush he had on you when you were younger was no secret to you- despite not feeling the same way for the boy at the time you can admit that you maybe played into it abit when you were teens-

you would playfully push his shoulder, lean over the back of him to look over his phone- use virtually any excuse to touch him- enjoying watching the effect you had on him.

you think that's were it started- your love for attention- your reputation of flirting and leading people on. you truly believe it all started with your brothers childhood friends silly crush on you.

you retreat back to your room to get some studying done- you work for hours, finally being satisfied with the work you've done for today you decide to reward yourself with the desert you've left in the fridge.

your leaving the kitchen when izuku walks in- he's clearly ready to leave, bag his back as he makes his way to the door- stopping in his tracks when he notices you.

you've changed outfit since he saw you this morning into something more comfortable- maybe your shorts are a little too short for having visitors round but you don't pay it much mind.

his eyes however go straight to your now exposed thighs- face heating up as he trails your body. he needs to get out of there and fast. he can already feel the arousal growing in his chest. he shuffles out a weak goodbye as he begins walking again.

you stop him before he gets to the door- calling out after him. you ask for his number, you know to keep in touch? his eyes are blown wide but he scrambles to take his phone out anyway- pushing it into your hand as he looks away. you type your number in-feeling pleased with yourself and the reaction you've bring out of the boy infront of you.

you sign your contact with a little <3 and send yourself a message too double check that the numbers correct before you let him leave. closing the door behind him as he spits out a thank you and a see you later.

it's weeks before you see him again- you engage in small conversations over texts- complains about your jobs and your coursework, nothing too serious before your made aware by your mother that he and inko will be joining your family for dinner this friday night coming.

your ecstatic as you message him- telling him your so excited to see him and promising to keep him a seat next to you at the dinner table.

friday rolls around quickly and you spend the day helping your father prepare the apparent feast your serving your guests tonight.

you spend a quick hour getting ready- showering, doing your hair, freshening up your make up. your making tonight fun you decide as you do your finishing touches.

it's mitsuki who greets the boy and his mother at the door- wrapping them in a tight hug. your mothers been looking forward to this all week- excited to finally have the pair back in their home again after many years.

it's comfortable immediately- your thankful there's no awkwardness surrounding the long overdue get together.

you settle into chatter easily after the initial greetings- setting in your living room as your father finishes up on dinner- your laughing about old time-your squashed comfortably between the two younger boys, leaning more into izuku and facing him to talk to him from time to time- watching a blush rise to his face when his eyes uncontrollably look down to catch a glimpse of your cleavage.

it's not long before masaru is calling you all through for dinner, you take a seat on the left side of your dining table- ushering izuku to take the boy other seat on that side next to you, your parents take their seats ate their respected heads of the table as inko and bakugo take the seats facing you and midoriya.

you settle into easy chatter- inko flows words or gratitude towards you and your dad for the food and you smile warmly at her- you really have missed the woman.

you divert your attention away from the mother and to the son sitting next to you- he's tense. your shoulders are so close that they would be touching if you moved even slightly words him, you lightly kick his foot under the table and his eyes dart to yours quickly, you attempt to stay composed as he looks at you in shock- you can't help the small giggle that rises in your throat-

you take a look around quickly before continuing your next move- no one's paying attention, mitsuki is nearly leaning over the table to talk to inko- bakugo in between them is distracted by their conversation as your dad looks over at the scene adoringly.

you take this as an opportunity to do something incredibly risky- not just because your at dinner with your parents- because the boy next to you could totally react your advances. you don't think he will-but you keep in mind that he never fails to surprise you.

you move your leg back to his now, wrapping yours around his as you begin a little game of footies with him- he's rigid now- unmoving as he looks at you with wide eyes-

he doesn't move your leg and he definitely doesn't tell you to stop- you lean in to speak to him- almost a whisper- "are you enjoying your meal zuku'?"

his face flushed an even darker red- he's clearly not used to you being so close- the position your bodies in squeezes your cleavage even more- it feels impossible for him to rip his eyes away-

"y-yeah" he stutters out it-it's adorable how difficult it is for him to say a single word- you play dumb, pretending your not painfully aware of your affect on the boy- "what's wrong zuku-? your all red."

your taunting him- teasing him- you love to watch how his breathe hitches and his eyes snap away from your tits and to his lap- looking down in shame.

"m' fine-" he says it with a small smile- he's trying to convince you, he knows your not that stupid. you move your hand to the side of his face, gracing his cheek slightly as you lightly push his face to meet your- your noses being only a couple inches apart-

"you sure? you look like your overheating?" you say it innocently- voice mixed with false worry- you know exactly why his face is so red.

you move your hand away from his face- the other still firmly on the table and your arm closest to the boy finds its itself resting on his lap.

his breathe hitches at the contact- his eyes snapping to yours- the look of desperation on his face causes you to move your own thighs tightly together.

he doesn't answer- so instead you move your hand even closer to him- having it now resting on his inner thigh as you watch him attempt to keep composed.

"y-yes. m' f-fine. i promise." his breathe heavy as he says it, he's struggling against the the movement of your hand lacing up and down his thigh.

"tell me if you want me to stop" it's a complete whisper now- you glance around the room again to double check that no one's paying attention to the two of you- your glad they aren't- your hand isn't seen under the table and you've positioned yourself in a way that too your family it looks as if your only whispering in his ear, you'd play it off as if you were telling him one of bakugos big secrets instead of the light touches your giving his thigh.

you move your eyes to his suspiciously when he doesn't answer and the movement of your hand stops- threatening to be removed before he rushes out an answer-

"don't stop." it's quick and quiet- his voice kept low to not alert the people around you, the desperation in his voice isn't missed by you as you begin to move your hand again- closer and closer to his bulge with each slip.

your hand lightly graces the outline of his dick as you watch hold back a moan- you decide you love seeing him like this- already looking so fucked out.

it only takes a second touch of his clothed cock before he snaps his head away from yours to meet the table- biting down on his hand to muffle the whine threatening to escape his throat-

the loud noise snaps everyone's head towards izuku-you remove your hand quickly before anyone can notice and place a look of fake worry on your face as you place a hand on his shoulder before leaning down to him-

"are you okay izuku-? do you want me to take you upstairs- maybe you can lay down for abit?" it's a show- voice laced with fake concern as you deliver your performance- tricking both your mothers into a state of admiration for how sweet your being to the boy- they give each other a wide eyed look before ushering you both upstairs together- hm...

"oh yes sweetie take the poor boy upstairs- it seems your father has forgotten how badly the boy deals with spice-* your mother laughs slightly before excusing you from the table- you take the opportunity to pull the boy next to you away from the table, hand still rested on his shoulder as you guide him upstairs- his eyes unmoving as he looks down on the floor in shame.

you move him towards your bedroom door- he stops before he steps inside- "w-what are you doing?" he's whispering- as if someone could hear him from all the way downstairs.

you reply casually- "i'm taking you into my room- you need to lay down" he's not convinced when you finish your sentence so you continue- "i'll take good care of you kay'? i don't mind."

this forces him to look at you- he's trying to figure something out- he sighs before he lets you move him into your room- he's gave in- and it really didn't take much at all.

you pull him towards your bed, signalling for him to sit against the headboard as you sit at the side of the bed- your back touching thighs as you face him side on.

"you wanna tell me what happened back there?" your straight to the point- you thought it was going well? did he not want you to touch him?

"n-nothing-" you eye him suspiciously, an eyebrow raised as you reply to him. "m' not an idiot zuku- i can tell something's up."

he can't even look at you when he finally replies after a long stretch of silence "it felt t-too good." your puzzled at this- asking him what on earth he means when he says it felt too good??

his face is dripped in shame as he fiddles with his hands- you take a look at him properly- it's then when you notice a very slight wet patch at his crotch-

wait.

"izuku- baby." you take a breathe before continuing. watching as his face lights up at the nickname. "you wanna tell me what really happened when you hit your head against the table?"

you know. he knows you know and he feels disgusting- what will you think of him when you force him to admit he came in his pants from you touching his dick twice.

"i- um okay f-fuck." he can't find his words. "i-i came."

he watches your face for a reaction but you don't give him one, you don't move an itch and he feels like he ruined it- your everything he's ever wanted- for as long as he can remember- and when he finally has the chance with you he's been dreaming about for years- even if only for tonight he goes and fucks it up by being a fucking prejac.

your silent as you move your hands- slightly shocking the boy in from of you. you place your hand on the line of your trouser before looking up at him- "can i take these off?" your eyes meet his and he takes notice of the hazed look in your eyes before nodding.

you pull them down- taking his boxers with them as you admire him- his cock bounces up immediately as it's freed from its restraints- you admire it for a second- he's big- not completely huge but big. thick too-

you stare for abit- seeing the cum from before still sticky on his dick and his boxers- he's getting increasingly more nervous but he can't help the twitch in his dick as you watch him.

"can i touch you?"

his face flushes even more- "p-please" it's nearly silent, only loud enough for you to hear it.

you don't waste a second before your hands on his dick, not giving him any warning as your hand goes up and down his cock- he moans immediately-already overstimulated by your touch-

"w-wait wait!" he's struggling to speak between his moans. "if you k-keep ah fuck- if you keep going so f-fast i'll come again-"

his confession only speeds the movements of your hands- it's as if that's what you want. he doesn't have a second to think before you dip your head down to his dick and take his red tip in your mouth.

you move your tounge around his dick as your hand continues to move along what you don't have in your mouth- he whines at the feeling of your tongue before bottoming out only a minute seconds after your mouth intintally took him in.

he comes ropes there's so much of it that it's spilling out of your mouth and down your chin- his orgasm lasts him a couple of seconds before he lays his head back- still whining when you remove your lips from his dick.

he watches as you swallow him- moving your hand to collect the spilt cum on your chin back into your mouth. he could be hard again at the sight-

"zuku." you look at him dangerously- his eyes unable to leave yours- "i wanna fuck you."

he stays still. not trusting his voice to speak as he fears he'll shout his answer- yes! he wants to say-yes please fuck me but he can't find the words.

"cmon izuku- let me fuck ur pretty dick baby-" he whines again- cock now once again fully hard at the way you speak to him- your coaching him- leading him. and he loves it.

"p-please tuck me-" that's all it takes tor you to rile your dress up- moving your panties to the side as you position yourself on top on him- he sounds pathetic-practically begging you to fuck him and who are you to refuse him-

you manoeuvre your body so your straddling him comfortably- you line your entrance at the tip of dick- hovering for a second as you admire him below you- your stopped before you can move down by a right grab on your wrist-

"w-wait!" he huffs out- "i-i've never done this before!"

you want to say your surprised but your not-you could tell he was a virgin when you saw his reaction to you in those shorts a couple weeks ago-you could tell by how red he went in the face when u started playing footsies earlier- he's been screaming virgin the entire time, you can't help that it only makes you want him more.

"i know-" you cut yourself off with a moan as you lower yourself onto him- he's so thick- he stretches you out perfectly as the slight pain quickly turns to pleasure.

he's gawking beneath you- mouth wide as a chain of noises- moans mixed with whimpers leaves his mouth- he's loud. you shut him up with a kiss-worried about something hearing him if they walk by your room-

you move yourself up and down him, his head following yours to move with you to not break the kiss- he's groaning into your mouth- unable to stop the noises of pleasure slipping out of him.

your fully riding him now- setting a fast pace as you bounce yourself up and down- rolling on him as he hits that sweet spot in your pussy-

he's leaking so much precum that it forms a ring at the bottom of his dick- you thank your birth control for allowing you to safely take him raw.

he's blabbering nonsense into your mouth- "f-fuck mghh you f-feel so good i c-can't" you kiss him again- pushing your tongue roughly into his mouth-

he never imagined his first time being like this- he imagined shitty missionary with some random girl at some college party- he believes he must be the luckiest guy in the world to have you on top of him-grinding down on him.

"f-fuck baby your cocks so good-fillin' me up so good-" he whines at your praise as he feels yet another knot in his stomach- he's going to cum again- he's going to cum into your pussy-

"s-stop m' gna cum!" he makes no effort to move you off- secretly hoping you'll get caught in the moment and allow him to stay inside-

"it's okay- m' protected just cum-" you can still sense his hesitation- you ride him even faster- desperately attempting to force a third orgasm out of the boy-

"cmon baby it's okay- cum in me zuku- cum in my pussy-*

that's all it takes- he lets out a loud whine and you catch his lips in yours to try and silence him-

you ride though his high- not slowing down as you case your own realise- he's crying under you, shaking at the overstimulation

"¡ cant! it h-hurts!" tears are spilling as you ignore his pleas- "hold on for me baby oh f-fuck m' so close" he's sobbing under you now, hands grabbing your waist so hard it hurts- gripping you for dear life.

"you can take it zuku- know you can-" the poor boy is twitching his hips upwards, kisses getting sloppier and the volume of his whimpering increasing. you think he looks prettiest like this.

you feel your orgasm approaching as your pace gets sloppier- izuku is a mess under you, a mix of cum and your slick feeling heavy at the base of his cock- he can't even speak, his mouth as agape as he watches you in a trance.

you cum with a moan- "oh-oh m' cumming-" you crash down onto him, riding out your high as you feel his thighs tense up- feeling even more cum leak from his tip filling you up even more- you dip your head into his neck as you recover.

you stay there for a second- taking in what just happened- izuku is panting under you, little sobs escaping his lips everytime you move even a little, you slowly remove yourself from him and plant a small peck to his cheek-

"did so good for me zuku- gna clean u up okay? gotta head back downstairs soon."

all he can do is stare at you in awe- he's completely fucked out, he has this dazed look in his eyes that you love.

you clean yourselfs up and let izuku take his time calming down- "can't believe i was your first-" your teasing him again- the never ending blush on his face gets deeper-

"m' sorry i didn't do much-" he's immediately self conscious- he came three- no four times and he feels bad for hardly being able to hold on long enough for you to come too.

"shhh sh it's okay baby" you smile at him as the nickname rolls of your tounge. "next time kay'?" his eyes widen. next time?? what could he possibly have done to make you want to see him again?

"you were perfect for me zuku- so good." you take his hand in yours as he looks away from you- clearly embarrassed by your praise. you don't drop his hand as you lead him back into the living room where your family's now sit- mitsuki has a bottle of wine open, thankful that it means your parents wont notice your hand linked with the green haired boys.

katsuki notices though- he noticed it the second you walk though the door- he also can't help but notice the flushed look on his childhoods friends face and you drag him to sit down next to you. hand not wandering from him.

he shoots you a suspicious look as he watches midoriya sit extremely close to you- you catch his eyes and shug your shoulders at him- you'll explain another time- maybe.

part2

[burntheedges]

Awake

Marcus Moreno x f!reader | 6.6k | 18+ | ao3

summary: Marcus is fine. He wakes up, goes to work, goes home, goes to sleep, and then does it all over again, just the same, every day. And he's fine.

And then he meets you.

a/n: this is for @guiltyasdave and @sizzlingcloudmentality's writing through the seasons challenge! you can see my prompt and moodboard here (which I borrowed from for the header). I had the prompt ("to live with the delusion of being found") banging around in my head for days and it just screams Marcus to me. thank you @katareyoudrilling for being a wonderful beta, as always.

tags/warnings: angst, fluff, flirting, meet cute, Missy is a fun teenager, texting, coffee shop, touching, I named Miracle Guy Rob and Missy's mom Melissa, self deprecation (Marcus), shifting POV, kissing, grinding, reader has no description other than being a woman and having a job, no age mentioned but just FYI I was imagining her in her 30s or 40s, first date, coffee, pet names (beautiful, sweetheart), some Spanish (mija, calmate)

...

On Monday, Marcus woke up with his alarm. 

Missy had picked it out – it wasn’t one of the sounds that came with his phone. She’d used some app to make it play part of “Takin’ Care of Business,” but only on weekdays. He didn’t know how to change it. He probably could have looked it up but he wouldn’t, anyway – she’d said it made her think of him going to work every day. So now it made him think of her, and at least he had that thought, if nothing else, to warm him as he got out of bed.

(His mood never quite matched the song’s, but at least he had a goal to work towards. Right?)

So he woke up when the piano came in, and sighed as he swung his legs off the bed. He sat there for a moment, letting Randy Bachman sing to him about getting to work by nine.

He sighed again.

He turned off the alarm, finally, and stood. He did not look in the mirror on top of his dresser as he walked past it into the bathroom.

Marcus showered and dressed on autopilot, mind almost blank. As always he just picked the next slacks, jacket, and shirt, whatever was at the front of his closet. He’d done this so many times, on so many mornings, it barely required him to be awake.

When the coffee maker beeped, he found himself standing fully dressed in his kitchen without really noticing that he’d walked there. He poured his coffee – just a splash of cream – and sat at the kitchen table to turn on the news. As he let the sound of yet another day wash over him, he texted Missy, smiling when she responded almost instantly.

Marcus 08:27 AM: Good morning, mija

Missy 08:28 AM: dad 08:28 AM: why did I sign up for a 9am dad 08:29 AM: i’m dying

Marcus 8:30 AM: if I’m remembering correctly, you had “big gym plans”

Missy 8:32 AM: never listen to me about gym plans again 8:33 AM: what was I thinkinggggg 😩

Marcus let his amusement at Missy’s texts buoy him to the sink and then out to his car, feeling a bit lighter. 

Like his morning routine at home, he barely noticed the drive to work. It was the same as always, and in 17 minutes he was getting out of his parked car at HQ. He felt his shoulders stiffen as he stepped through the double doors into the lobby.

On his floor, Marcus walked to the kitchen first to drop off his lunch. He nodded at the same people he walked past every morning. Then he sat at his desk, answered his emails, and attended some meetings about upcoming missions for the current active teams. On his way to the break room for lunch he nodded at the same people again. After lunch he attended a few more meetings, dodged Rob in the hallway when he asked about Marcus’ weekend, and answered more emails.

At 5pm he stood up from his desk and walked to his car, nodding to the same people again on his way out.

Marcus drove home on autopilot, and 17 minutes later he found himself walking into his kitchen from the garage. He sighed as he opened the fridge, and decided dinner would be leftovers. Again.

Since it was Monday, and Missy wouldn’t be calling, he sat on the couch and turned the TV to the Food Network. He let the soothing sounds of low stakes cooking problems take over and crowd himself out of his own head.

10pm found Marcus in bed, setting his alarm. He got comfortable, stretched out his back, which always seemed to be aching these days, and pointedly did not think about the fact that he couldn’t think of a single thing he’d done at work that day.

As he fell asleep, he thought idly that he was glad his time as an active member of the Heroics had taught him how to fall asleep anywhere, if nothing else.

…

On Tuesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.

His morning unfolded almost identically to Monday’s, aside from the fact that Missy wasn’t awake yet to respond to his good morning text – her Tuesday classes started at 11:30 and she usually took full advantage of the chance to sleep in.

As he sat and sipped his coffee, something on the news briefly caught his interest, until he realized it was something that had already crossed his desk the week before. 

He sighed.

Marcus drove to work – 17 minutes – and went through the motions of another day at the office. 

He ate lunch with Rob in his office, which had bigger windows than Marcus’s, and got his regular updates on how Rob’s family was doing (Peter had gone off to college, too, and they commiserated about their kids abandoning them). 

Rob, as always, asked Marcus how he was doing with a knowing look that Marcus, as always, pointedly ignored.

“I’m fine,” he said, as always, stabbing a piece of chicken in his tupperware dish with a bit too much force. He was always fine. What else would he be?

Rob eyed him. “Are you?”

Marcus chewed and did not sigh. “Yes, I am,” he promised.

Rob squinted, and Marcus squinted back. That made his friend laugh, at least, and they changed the subject.

Marcus left the office a bit quicker that night and 17 minutes later he walked in the house just as his phone rang.

“Hi, mija,” he said, smiling as he picked up his daughter’s regular Tuesday phone call. She had a long walk home from her last class and usually called him to pass the time.

He let her voice wash over him, soothing the tension that had crept into his shoulders when Rob had squinted at him over lunch. Missy’s updates on her classes and her friends carried him through reheating his leftovers and collapsing on the couch. By the time she had to go he was more relaxed than he’d been in days. (Since her last call, probably, he did not let himself think, and made sure to tell her he loved her before she hung up.)

With a bit more help from the Food Network, Marcus successfully distracted himself until it was time for bed.

…

On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, Marcus woke up with his alarm. 

He got dressed, went to work, nodded at his coworkers, answered emails, ate lunch, nodded a bit more, and went home.

And through all of it, he was fine. 

He was fine. 

…

Marcus spent Saturday at home doing chores, and Sunday at the farmer’s market and the grocery store. Missy called once, and Rob texted him to invite him to Corina’s birthday dinner in two weeks. Marcus added it to his calendar and took care not to notice how every other weekend was empty.

…

On Monday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.

He moved automatically from his bed to his bathroom and then to his closet, showering and dressing as usual. 

He walked downstairs, thinking idly about the meetings he had scheduled in the morning, and the training he needed to plan for the newest crop of Heroics.

Lost in thought, Marcus stood holding an empty mug in front of his coffee maker for almost 5 minutes before he realized it hadn’t beeped. 

He blinked and looked down, confused. 

There was no coffee in the pot. He realized he hadn’t smelled the coffee as he usually did while he was getting ready. He looked it over and saw that the setting was right, but there was no coffee.

He frowned. 

Poking at the coffee maker revealed that the screen wouldn’t come on, even though it was plugged in. A few more moments of tinkering and he knew – it was broken.

Marcus sighed and checked the time – 8:10 AM. He texted Missy.

Marcus 08:10 AM: Mija, I am sorry to report that after a long and fruitful life, our beloved Mr. Coffee has percolated his last brew. May he rest in peace 🪦

Missy 08:12 AM: nooo!! not Mr. Coffee 💔 08:13 AM: your best friend, taken from us too soon 08:13 AM: how will you go on without him

He smiled. He knew she’d be able to cheer him up.

Marcus 08:15 AM: with difficulty, but I will persevere

Missy 08:17 AM: wait! 08:17 AM: dad you should go to the Bean Box!! I know you never actually did when I told you to 08:18 AM: it’s on your way to work dad you have to go 08:18 AM: it’s the best the coffee is so good 08:19 AM: daaaaaad

Marcus 08:20 AM: ok ok, calmate 08:20 AM: I’m going

Missy 08:22 AM: good! and get a scone to eat in my honor 08:23 AM: I miss those scones

15 minutes later Marcus pulled up in front of the small facade of the Bean Box and couldn’t help but smile. It was exactly the type of place Missy would like – cozy and colorful, with lots of tables stuffed inside and flower boxes overflowing along the bottom of each of the large windows in the front.

When he stepped inside, the smell of freshly roasted coffee filled his nose and he almost stopped in the doorway. It smelled good. 

He joined the long line for coffee and scrolled idly on his phone, checking the news, a bit oblivious to his surroundings. 

So he was surprised when his phone almost flew out of his hand a few moments later. Someone knocked into him from behind and he stumbled forward. He made some sort of noise as he juggled his phone between his hands, just barely catching it before it could fall.

“Good catch,” an admiring voice said from behind him. He turned as they continued, “Wait, I mean, I’m so sorry about that! Shit.”

Marcus turned around fully and almost froze. A woman was standing there with her hands out, as if she had just caught her balance, grimacing at him. A very beautiful woman, he couldn’t help but notice. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but she was just as beautiful as she’d been a moment before. His eyes darted across her features but he didn’t let himself sweep his gaze over the rest of her. He didn’t want to be a creep.

Suddenly it felt much warmer in the coffee shop, and he was very aware of how close they were standing to each other.

“Shit,” she repeated. “Sorry, again. I tripped,” she pointed at the leg of a chair that was almost in the aisle, “and ended up sort of falling on you. But I’m glad you caught your phone! Nice catch, really.” She looked down and he did, too. She’d dropped her bag and some of her belongings had spilled out. She sighed. “Shit.”

Marcus was crouching before he’d even thought about bending down. “It’s alright,” he said, smiling a bit. “No harm done. Sorry about your stuff.” he gathered some papers and held them out to her. She had followed him down, kneeling as she gathered her things back into her bag.

She took them and said, “wait, you don’t have to do that! I already almost knocked you over, you don't have to help me.”

He shook his head. “Like I said, it’s fine.” He realized she had all of her things but they were both still crouching. He stood and offered her his hand to help her up. 

She slid her hand into his easily and his breath caught as she said, “well, thank you, and sorry, again.” Her hand was warm and he ignored the way his fingers tingled at her touch. 

She was smiling, then, and Marcus couldn’t help but notice that her smile was very pretty. So pretty he had to drag his eyes away from it, trying not to stare.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this. There was warmth in his chest and a floaty feeling in his stomach and the tips of his fingers were still tingling where they’d touched hers. It felt almost foreign, it had been so long. He felt lightheaded. 

“Please don’t worry about it.” He looked around and realized the line had moved a little, so he took a step forward to move with it. She did the same. “I’m Marcus, by the way.”

She gave her name and he smiled. It suited her.

“Can I buy you an apology coffee?” she asked, looking hopeful. “I still feel bad.”

He shook his head, laughing. “No, it’s really ok. I mean it.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, looking suddenly thoughtful and amused. “I’ve never had anyone turn down a free cup of coffee from here before. You must be new.”

Marcus was smiling. He realized he might have been smiling at her the whole time, and felt a bit of wonder at that. “It’s that obvious? I am. New, I mean. My daughter has been telling me to come here for months but this is my first time.”

Her eyebrows raised and he hoped he was imagining the way her expression closed off a bit. But in the next moment he wondered at himself for even thinking of it. Don’t be a fool, he warned himself, even as he felt the urge to explain. She’s just nice, she’s not interested. 

“She has good taste,” she said lightly. “What took you so long, then?”

Marcus sighed and gave in to the urge. “It’s just me at home, with her away at college, and I’ve just been torturing my ancient coffee maker by keeping it alive. But it took its last dying breaths this morning and I was forced to venture out for coffee, instead.”

She nodded solemnly. “Rest in peace, ancient coffee maker.” The jokingly serious look on her face reminded him of the way Missy would tease him and he couldn’t help but smile. Again.

Suddenly Marcus realized they’d made it to the front of the line. He wasn’t ready to order, or to stop talking to this beautiful woman who had almost knocked him over. 

“I guess I’m up,” he said, as the person in front of him started to pay. 

He tried not to watch as she bit her lip, hesitating for just a moment. “Well, Marcus,” she said, voice light again. “I’m here most mornings, so you’ll have to come back and let me know if you liked it.”

Marcus felt his cheeks warm and he smiled. “Ok then. I’ll try.”

For the rest of the day, he found he couldn’t quite wipe that smile off of his face, not even when Rob teased him about it.

…

On Tuesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm, already smiling.

He glanced at himself in the mirror as he got dressed, and was stunned to see his face looking so relaxed for once.

Is that all it takes? He wondered, amused at his own expense. A bit of flirting and a pretty smile? But it wasn’t just about her pretty smile, he knew that. He’d felt something the day before, something he hadn’t felt in years.

Something he wanted to feel again.

He’d told Missy he liked her coffee shop the night before and promised he’d be back (and that he’d get a scone, this time). So he hurried downstairs and out to his car as soon as he was dressed, ready to find out if he would run into her again.

When he pulled up outside The Bean Box, he took a deep, slow breath. Sure, he was a teensy bit invested. Something about her had kindled a tiny fire in his chest. But he didn’t want to get his hopes too high. He shouldn’t. Right?

But as he stepped inside, he realized he needn’t have worried. She was standing by the door, looking just as stunning as the day before. And she was watching the people coming in.

When she saw him, she grinned. “I knew you’d be back! It’s good, right?”

Marcus nodded as felt a smile stretch across his face. “It is. And I promised my daughter I’d get a scone this time.”

Her eyes lit up. He couldn’t look away. “Oh, you definitely need to get a scone. They’re amazing.”

She stepped into line next to him and he noticed they both kept their bodies turned towards each other as they talked. 

“You said she’s in college, right?” She tilted her head at him. Marcus tried not to trace the line of her neck with his eyes. “Is she enjoying it?”

He nodded. “She’s a freshman, but she settled in quick. She’s so independent, I knew she would.” He looked down, smiling as he thought about his daughter, and told her about Missy’s major. “She blows me away, honestly.”

When he looked back up he found her smiling softly at him. “Sounds like she’s got a great dad.”

Marcus smiled and ducked his head again. “I miss her, but it helps that she’s doing so well. And we talk a lot. More than I expected, really. Figured she’d be too busy.”

He felt something warm on his arm and realized she had reached out and lightly rested her hand on his forearm. He blinked and felt a flush rise in his cheeks and start to travel down his neck. He suddenly wished he wasn’t wearing a sweater over his dress shirt, wished he could feel her hand on his skin again.

“I’d say that means you’re definitely a great dad.” She was still smiling. “Take it from me, and my memories of college. I definitely didn’t talk to my parents that much.” She laughed and Marcus felt his breath catch at the way it lit up her features. Her hand was still on his arm and he fought the urge to cover it with his own, to keep it there.

He shook himself and nodded. “It’s been just us for so long. We are pretty close.”

She squeezed his arm lightly and he felt a shiver run up his spine. When her hand fell away, he missed it immediately. “Has it been tough? Adjusting without her.”

Marcus sighed and nodded. “My house is so empty now.” He laughed, ruefully. “I swear, it echoes in there. Never expected I would miss all the noise.”

She nodded. “I’ve got nieces and nephews, and they’re so loud, but I always miss it when they’re gone. It’s not the same, but I get that.”

As the line moved forward, she told him more about her sister’s kids and their antics. Marcus found himself smiling and laughing more than he had outside of a call with Missy in… months. Longer? He didn’t want to think about it, not when he was caught up in feeling like this instead. 

By the time they reached the front of the line, he was only wishing they had more time.

She hesitated when it was almost her turn to step up to the counter. “Did you get your coffee maker fixed?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think it’s fixable, and honestly it deserves to rest. It lived a long life.”

She laughed and then bit her lip. It drew his eyes like a magnet. 

“So, will I see you again tomorrow?” She looked hopeful and he wanted so badly to read into it.

“I think so,” he agreed, smiling a bit shyly. 

She grinned at him. “Good.”

He carried the memory of that grin with him through the rest of the day, until Rob managed to weasel the whole story out of him over lunch. He told his friend about the way they’d met and how she’d been standing inside the door that morning.

But somehow telling it to someone else had Marcus second guessing the whole thing. 

“I’m probably just imagining it.” He was standing with Rob in the hall by his office, coming back from lunch, wishing it had never come up. 

“Well, I think you should go back and you should talk to her again.” Rob furrowed his brow at Marcus and poked him in the arm. 

Marcus frowned and brushed his hand away. “Rob, she’s probably not interested.” 

His friend frowned back, exaggerating the expression until it was comical. “Sounded like she was. Why wouldn’t she be?”

Marcus shook his head and grimaced. “Why would she be? I’m a sad, boring, almost 50-year old man who does nothing but go to work and wait for his daughter to call him. I’m not delusional, ok, I know no one wants to deal with that. Especially not someone like her.”

Rob sighed. He reached out and grabbed Marcus’ shoulders and squeezed. “Marcus. Listen to me. You are a smart, funny, and caring man who loves his daughter and his friends. You deserve more, ok? Tell me you know that.”

Marcus shook his head. “Know what?”

“That it’s not a delusion to think you deserve to be loved.”

“Loved?” Marcus shook his head and tried not to scoff. “We’re just talking about someone I met at a coffee shop.” He ignored that his heart had started to beat just a bit faster when he thought about her, just like it had in The Bean Box when she’d touched his arm. And when she’d smiled at him, looking so hopeful that she’d see him again.

Rob raised his eyebrows. “Someone you can’t stop thinking about, and who flirted with you and got you out of your shell. Right?”

Marcus sighed.

“Marcus,” Rob said, voice careful, and Marcus knew what was coming next. “Is this about Melissa? I–”

He shook his head, interrupting. “No, I mean, not really. You know I’ve gone on dates, well, a while ago. It’s just…” He closed his eyes. “It’s been so long, and since Missy left for college, I’ve just been…” he trailed off, looking for the right word. “Asleep, I think. It’s so quiet. Every day is the same.”

Marcus opened his eyes to find his best friend frowning at him.

“I get it. But it sounds like this shook you out of that routine, right?” Marcus sighed. “Marcus, look, just– promise me you won’t just dismiss it, ok? Give it a chance.”

He wanted to scrub his hands over his eyes but Rob was still holding his shoulders. “How do I do that?”

Rob shrugged. “You’ve already run into her twice. Just keep going back. See what happens.”

Marcus closed his eyes and finally broke out of his friend’s hold. He leaned against the wall behind him. “Ok. Ok, I can do that.”

Rob let out a long breath, clearly relieved. “Good. And just let yourself enjoy it, ok? I know you know how to flirt. Even if you’re rusty.”

Marcus rolled his eyes and shoved Rob back a bit. “Yeah, yeah. I thought you wanted me to go back, huh? Stop making me nervous.”

Rob waved his hand, laughing. “You’re already nervous. But I’ve seen you flirt, man, even if it’s been a minute. I believe in you.”

At least someone did.

…

On Wednesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm, and immediately felt nervous.

He paused in front of his closet, actually looking at his clothes for the first time in a long time. Should I wear this shirt? Or a sweater? He hesitated, cursed himself for wasting time, and then grabbed the next shirt and slacks, as always. 

He walked straight past his kitchen on his way to his car, only glancing at the clock. 08:14 AM.

Missy 08:17 AM: are you going to the Bean Box again 08:18 AM: have I created a monster

Marcus 08:27 AM: just pulled up 08:27 AM: I’ll eat a scone for you

Missy 08:28 AM: mail me one 🙏

Marcus 08:29 AM: counter offer: I’ll buy you one when you’re home next

Missy 08:29 AM: deal 

Marcus was smiling at his phone as he opened the door into the coffee shop, belatedly looking up at his surroundings after he stepped inside. He didn’t see her and started to frown.

“Let me guess – your daughter?” 

He turned to find her behind him, leaning against the high table by the door. She gestured at his phone with a smile. He nodded. “How’d you know?”

She stepped closer and looked down at his phone. “You were smiling at it as you walked in.”

He couldn’t help but smile again. “She asked me to mail her a scone.”

She laughed and Marcus watched the way it changed her face. Beautiful. 

“Would it survive?” She grinned and fell into step next to him in the line for coffee.

He shook his head. “No, but I promised I’d buy her one next time she’s home.”

“When’s that?”

“Spring break.”

She frowned sympathetically. “So far away! That’s too bad.”

Marcus sighed, agreeing. “It is, but it helps knowing that she’s having such a great time.”

She looked thoughtful and nudged Marcus with her shoulder. He felt himself flush. “You know, you could look up coffee shops near her campus and buy her a gift card or something. Somewhere similar. Probably better than mailing a scone.”

He blinked, surprised. That was a good idea. “I…” he trailed off. “That’s–”

“Sorry,” she interrupted, wincing. “I didn’t mean–”

“No,” he said, not wanting her to apologize. He touched his fingertips lightly to her arm – she was wearing short sleeves, and the touch of his skin against hers deepened his flush. His fingertips started to tingle and he felt his heart start to beat faster in his chest. “I was going to say, that’s a great idea. Thank you.”

She grinned at him and leaned forward, which brought her arm more in contact with his hand. Suddenly he found himself with a light hold on her forearm, gripping it gently. He stroked his thumb across her skin before he even realized what he was doing. 

“I was worried I’d overstepped,” she said without moving away from him.

Marcus shook his head, momentarily speechless at the feel of her skin and the knowledge that she hadn’t pulled away.

“No,” he murmured. “I’m definitely going to do that. She’ll love it.”

For a moment he didn’t move, and neither did she. He noticed the line moving out of the corner of his eye but didn’t do anything about it until the person behind them in line cleared their throat.

Startled, he stepped forward, losing contact with her arm. She was still smiling at him as she turned.

“You know,” he said, wishing he could reach out to touch her hand. “I never asked what brings you here every day.”

She hummed. “Well the coffee, of course,” she winked at him, “but I also work from here most mornings. I like the atmosphere, and all of my meetings are in the afternoon.”

He nodded, thinking that sounded nice.  “So if I were to keep up my new coffee habit, you’d be here in the mornings?”

She turned towards him then and he leaned closer. 

“Yep,” she agreed. “Most days. Maybe you could stick around sometime.” She raised her eyebrows but he sighed. 

“I can’t,” he said, looking down. “Have to be in the office.”

Her face fell and he felt something twist inside his chest. She opened her mouth to reply but he interrupted. He didn’t want her to feel like that, not when he was feeling like this.

“Maybe we could,” his voice came out a bit strangled and he cleared his throat. “Maybe we could have dinner sometime instead?”

Marcus watched as her face transformed from disappointed to hopeful. He smiled. 

“I’d like that, Marcus.”

…

Marcus couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on a date, it had been so long.

(That was a lie – he just didn’t want to remember, it had gone so badly. But it had been years – he was pretty sure Missy had been in middle school at the time.)

He spent way too long staring at his clothes and trying to ignore Rob’s encouraging texts. He settled on dark jeans and a sweater. When his phone pinged again, he finally looked down to check it. 

Rob (5:37 PM): Corina says wear the dark green sweater (5:38 PM): I don’t even know which sweater she’s talking about but I assume you do

Marcus looked down and laughed. He had, in fact, chosen the dark green sweater.

Marcus (5:41 PM): tell her I am and that I had the same idea

Rob (5:43 PM): she says good choice and have a great time (5:44 PM): I mean, me too

Marcus smiled as he walked downstairs. He was glad for the support, but he knew he looked good in this sweater. It was one of the few purchases he’d made in recent years just because he liked the way it looked.

He got in the car and headed towards the restaurant where they’d agreed to meet. It was a short drive but he could feel himself getting more and more nervous the closer he got. 

After he parked, he stopped and took a deep breath. He thought of Melissa, as he’d done quite a bit since he met the beautiful woman in the coffee shop. It had been so long since they’d lost her, and he’d had quite a bit of time to think about dating again. This wasn’t even his first try.

But it always made him a little wistful. He took a moment to think about what she’d say – probably something about how his arms looked in the sweater. The thought made him laugh and shake his head. He got out of the car.

She was waiting by the door, and she was stunning.

…

You tried not to fidget as you stood by the door to the restaurant. It was a place your coworker had recommended, but you’d never been. Your nerves had driven you to arrive ten minutes early and now you had nothing to do but wait, and think of the gorgeous man you were waiting for.

And he really was gorgeous. You’d known that from the moment he’d turned around after you’d almost knocked him over in your favorite coffee shop – a memory that made your cheeks burn, even now, you’d been so embarrassed. He was tall with a jawline that made you want to bite, shoulders that were so broad you needed to get your hands on them, and warm brown eyes that had so much feeling in them, it took your breath away.

And then he’d smiled at you, and helped you with your things. And flirted. And then he’d come back, and kept coming back. For coffee, of course, but also to talk to you.

Every time he walked into The Bean Box, he looked around, looking for you. And when he saw you, his face lit up. You couldn’t help but smile just thinking about it.

How is he single? It was a question you’d been wondering about all week. You figured it was probably because he was a single dad, and his daughter had just gone to college. But at the same time you couldn’t comprehend that no one had locked this gorgeous, thoughtful, funny, caring man down. Their loss, you thought, and smiled again.

At that moment you looked up, and caught sight of Marcus getting out of his car. Your smile stretched into a grin.

“Hello there,” he said, smiling as he walked closer to you. “You look stunning this evening.”

You looked him over and tilted your head. “So do you, in that sweater.”

He blushed and you bit your lip. It was so charming when he did that. 

“Ready for dinner?” he asked, and when you nodded he turned to guide you inside. You felt his hand come up to rest on your lower back. It was big and warm, just as warm as it had been when he’d held your arm. You shivered.

The restaurant had a table waiting for you, and you turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. He smiled and shrugged. “I called two days ago when you said yes to dinner.”

The table they led you to was cozy – tucked in a corner with a window, a romantic candle flickering in the center. When you sat, you realized a couple of plants hid you from the rest of the room.

“Cozy,” you said, smiling. 

Marcus nodded. “My best friend has brought his wife here, says it’s fantastic. And romantic.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, reaching out to nudge his hand where it rested on the table. “Romantic, huh?”

Marcus looked suddenly unsure, which made you slide your hand over his and squeeze. “Is that alright?”

You nodded. “It’s more than alright, Marcus. It’s perfect.”

He smiled again, and the two of you settled into an easy conversation about your weeks, about his daughter, and about your work. It flowed just as comfortably as it had at the coffee shop and you felt the warmth that Marcus had kindled inside of you from the first moment start to burn again. It carried you through dinner.

You watched his face as he talked and couldn’t help but marvel again at how handsome he was. He seemed to notice your focus and smirked a bit. “What?”

“Hmm?” you blinked, eyes snapping back to meet his.

He reached across the table and laced his fingers with yours. “I was just wondering what you were thinking.”

Your face warmed but you wanted to tell him, anyway. “Just got distracted by how handsome you are.”

Marcus blushed again and you grinned. “Really?” he looked doubtful, and you couldn’t have that.

“Oh yes,” you said, leaning towards him. “Not for the first time. You know how hard it was not to stare, in the coffee shop?”

He laughed and picked up your hand. He leaned forward, too, and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. You bit your lip at the sensation of his lips against your skin. “Me?” he asked, smiling against your knuckles. “What about you? You’re so beautiful I couldn’t take my eyes off you. And then you smiled, and well.” He kissed your knuckles again. “Still can’t look away from you, even if I wanted to.”

For a moment you just stared at each other, smiling. 

“Marcus,” you started, lifting your fingers to press against his jaw. He held on, but let you turn your hand until you could cup his cheek. “Do you want to come home with me?”

He blinked, clearly surprised. “I–” He swallowed, looking nervous. “It’s been a while, since…” he trailed off. “It’s been a while,” he repeated, smiling shyly.

You traced his cheekbone with your thumb. “There’s no rush,” you promised. You leaned a little closer and he leaned in to meet you. “I just want you to kiss me, Marcus,” you murmured, and watched his pleasure at that idea take over his handsome face. “And then we can just see where it takes us. No rush, no pressure.”

His eyes darkened as he smiled, a new sort of smile you hadn’t seen before. It made you press your thighs together under the table. “No rush,” he repeated, “but I’ve been wanting to kiss you, too,” he said, voice low and warm. He moved to stand. “Let’s go.”

…

Marcus stepped up close behind you at your door, and you smiled at the feeling of his warm body almost touching yours. His hand came to rest on your waist and you shivered. 

You finally managed to unlock the door and he followed you in. 

So quickly it made your head spin, Marcus turned and pressed you up against the inside of your door. you gasped. His chest was just as broad and firm as you’d thought, and he held you easily in place, right where he wanted you. You marveled at his sudden confidence – it looked very good on him.

“Hi there, beautiful,” he murmured, looking down at your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you breathed. Before you could say anything else, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

Marcus’s lips were warm, and soft, and his kiss was slow and gentle. It seeped into you and you felt his warmth light you up from the inside. 

Your hands found his hips and you tugged him forwards until your bodies were touching from shoulder to knee. He moaned lightly, into your mouth, and suddenly his kiss wasn’t so gentle anymore.

It was fierce. Your head was spinning as you opened your mouth to him and felt his tongue stroke along yours.

His thigh came to rest between yours and you shivered.

“Marcus,” you sighed, breaking the kiss. He pressed soft kisses along your cheek and jaw before he let his head drop to your shoulder.

“You feel perfect against me, you know that?” His voice sounded almost hoarse, and you wrapped your arms around his waist. His sweater was soft and it made you smile. His right hand was flat against the door by your head but his left came up to cup your jaw and neck. “Shit, sweetheart. You’re perfect.”

You pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “I’m not perfect,” you laughed. 

He shook his head against your shoulder. “Feels pretty perfect.” He thrust his hips forward and pressed his thigh against you more firmly. You moaned. 

You felt Marcus huff a small laugh against your shoulder and pulled back to eye him. “What?”

He was smiling. “It’s nothing.” He shook his head as you raised your eyebrow, still confused. “I was just thinking how lucky I am that my coffee machine broke that day. Never would have met you, otherwise.”

You felt your face relax as you smiled back and leaned in for another soft kiss. “Sounded like it was on its last legs, from what you told me.”

He laughed again, and you grinned. “It was. RIP, Mr. Coffee, and thank you for your timely death.”

You hummed. “I like to think I would have found you, anyway. Maybe on another day at the Box.”

Marcus pressed forward and buried his face in your neck again. You felt his soft kisses working their way down to your shoulder and shivered. “Yeah? How?”

You shrugged and he nipped at your shoulder. “Just feels right, you know? I felt it the moment I met you.” You leaned your head to the side and he took advantage, worrying a mark at the spot where it met your shoulder. It made you squirm and his grip on you tightened. “Like I’d found something I’d been looking for, and didn’t even know it.”

He lifted his head again and the look in his eyes made your breath catch in your throat. “I know exactly what you mean, sweetheart. You woke me up when you almost knocked me over.” He grinned, teasing you.

“What do you mean?” You lifted one of your hands and let your fingers trail through his hair.

He leaned into it, smiling. “I’ve been… asleep. Living the same day, over and over again. And then I met you, and it’s like I’m awake for the first time since Missy left. Before that, probably.” He leaned forward and kissed you, gently. “You woke me up,” he repeated. You smiled, surprised and pleased that you’d had such an effect on him, too.

Marcus kissed you again, and for a while after that there wasn’t a lot of talking. You could only manage his name, and please, and don’t stop.

He didn’t.

...

a/n: 🥰

[ccraccz]

Hello! I'm a new follower of yours~ I may not know how much are you in the manga, so this might be a lil spoiler for you (sorry). Suo actually knows the language of flowers! Maybe this could be a req of him courting fem!reader owo

Have a nice day!

SO CUTTEE!! THANK YOU FOR BOTH THE FOLLOW AND THE REQUEST!!

Flowers for you

Suo x Fem!Reader

TW: assault, reader being used as a hostage, implied bullying? (PLease tell me if I missed a TW!!)

The first time it happens is on a random Monday. A bouquet of different colored camelias being given to you by Suo, a sly smile and unearthly attractive smile on his face as he hands them over. His uncovered eye squinting as he watches you blush at the situation.

"For you, my lady," he says, confirming the main question that was swimming in your brain.

"But... Why?" You ask, genuinely wondering about the reason of the sudden gift. Suo chuckles as you grab the flowers in your hands and hold them closer. "Well..." He starts, turning to walk beside you, hands behind his back as usual, he looks at forward, ignoring your eyes that were intensely looking at him. "They reminded me of you, and there was a special on them, so I decided to try and make your day start in a good way."

That was a lie. Well, part of it was a lie. The beautiful, multicolored camelias did remind him of you, but the bouquet was going to be a lot more expensive if he wasn't recognized by the flower shop owner for saving his daughter from some perverted gang members. Not only was the bouquet free as a payback for saving his daughter, but as a thanks for helping around the town.

"Well then..." You pout, looking away as you arrive at the bridge that connects you to the gates of your school. You genuinely didn't want to leave him there, but you had cleaning duty to go to and if you're one minute late, your class would chew you up, especially now that you had a bouquet of flowers in your hands.

That day you started your day with a smile, and ended it with that same smile.

Suo was right, these flowers did make your day start, and stay, a good way.

The second time was the day after he, and his group, fought a group of drunken, old, perverts decided to take you and your girlfriends from your class as hostages. The glare that Suo sported that day before he quickly beat up the guys that were between him and the guy holding you was still burned into the front of your memories.

His eye seemed to glow under the street lights of the town, movements swifter than a cat but stronger than a bear. The drunken man holding you faltered at the sight of his men being beaten down, quickly seeing the disadvantage he's at. Due to that, he quickly pushes you away, having you land harshly on the ground and enraging Suo further.

After the fight, Suo was silent, too silent for your comfort as he walked you home. His arms weren't behind him, now one was wrapped around your waist and the other in his pocket.

The day after, there were flowers on your door step. Another bouquet and a plush of a fluffy puppy holding it.

The flowers were in a beautiful arrangement of white gardenias, daffodils, primrose primulas, and white heather flowers, a red ribbon tied around the bottom of the stems to keep them together. Under the plush, there is a note from Suo.

His hand writing is gorgeous, letters smooth and readable, sentences arranged in such grace it was shocking to think that this was written by a teenager in a delinquent school.

The letter said: Dear [Name],

I hope this letter finds you well and recovered from what happened yesterday night. I can only imagine how hollow you might feel...

And the rest was history, as tears bubbled up in your eyes and dribbled down your cheeks, the flowers tight in your embrace as your tears soaked into the paper and the top of the plush.

The third and last time was at the end of the day, two months after the incident, and a week before your birthday. You had been talking to some girls, who were gushing and blushing about their crushes while you stayed quiet. Walking out of the school and over the bridge, you see him.

Suo was standing at the other end of the bridge, another bouquet in his hand, a small gift box in his other hand. You paused as the girls beside you start fawning over Suo, talking about how attractive he is, and wondering who those flowers were for, and what about that box?

You were internally sweating, starting to walk behind the girls again, who were giggling and bumping into each other before you.

"So?" One of the prettier girls walks forward, having the guts to confront the delinquent. "Is that for me?" she asks, bottom lip bitten seductively.

Suo smiles at her, "Definitely..." He pauses and looks around the group. "Not," his smile drops before he walks forward and breaks apart the group, until he was in front of you.

"[Name]?" Suo smiles, eye closing with a light blush on his face.

He looked ethereal, better than any mythical, historical, or fictional character you've ever seen in your life. The sun was the perfect shade, hitting his face in every attractive way it could.

"I'm here to give you these," He speaks, his voice soft and nearly musical. He holds out the flowers towards you to take as your cheeks flush a beautiful pink as the situation registers in your mind.

"For me?" You whisper in shock.

"Yes," He nods "for you gorgeous."

In her hands was a large bouquet, filled with white gardenias, red roses, white camelias, baby's breath, and a multitude of gloxinias. "Those white gardenias represent your purity and how lovely you are, the roses represent my love for you, the white camelias describe how adorable and perfect you are, the baby's breath are a symbol of-"

You cut him off, putting the flowers into one arm as you grab him by the cheek and slot your lips onto his.

The show of affection makes the girls around swear and leave, while, somewhere in the bushes, there is a sensor going off, smoking even.

That wasn't the last time he brought you flowers, and it definitely was not the last time he described them, since every time he did, it would lead to something more.

[damiansgoodgirll]

hi girly i love your writing honestly i get so excited when i see you posted!

Can you do a damian priest x reader where reader goes for a night out with rhea and gets to drunk and damian comes to “save” her and is all protective. like reader asks “why do you care?” and damian is like “because i love you”

damian priest x reader (romantic) / rhea ripley x reader (platonic)

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

‼️drunk reader, feels, a little angst and lot of fluff

monday night

“should we go right after the interviews?” rhea asked as you were finishing retouching your make up.

“absolutely” you smiled back “i think i’ll be done in thirty minutes, what about you?”

she looked at the clock and thought for a moment “probably twenty minutes, i have to finish some interviews with damian and then i’ll change…”

before you could reply, damian entered rhea’s locker room, definitely not expecting you there “rhea are you done? oh - hi y/n” he awkwardly smiled, making you chuckle.

“hi…” you blushed under his gaze.

you’ve always had a crush on him but you knew he saw you just as a friend. you tried to give him hints but he never seemed to understand or maybe he did but wasn’t interested. you couldn’t tell but either way, you got tired of waiting for him so even if it hurt, you were okay with being just friends with him.

“yes i’m done” rhea replied to damian “thirty minutes y/n, okay?”

“perfect, see ya!” you quickly excused yourself and met jackie for a quick interview.

rhea smirked seeing how damian reacted being in your presence and she couldn’t help but wonder when he was going to confess to you.

“what you girls doing in thirty minutes?” he asked, curiosity getting the best of him.

“oh, nothing, y/n wanted to try this club she saw on her way here and i’m going with her? you wanna come?”

he was honestly shocked. you weren’t for clubs. you always hated them and he knew so he didn’t understand why all of sudden you wanted to try a a club in a city you didn’t even know.

“no thanks…i’m going straight to the hotel after we finish our interview” he thought for a moment “plus, who goes to a club on monday night? it’s gonna be so boring…”

rhea scoffed “people who wanna have fun and not be bothered by too many people”

the older man laughed “okay, fair, let’s get this done so you can get ready and have fun with her…”

somehow, he was jealous of the close bond between you and rhea. you were amazing friends and it was thanks to her if he got the opportunity to meet you. he tried to spend as much time he could with you but it wasn’t enough. rhea was with you almost of the time so there wasn’t much time for him to spend with you alone.

rhea saw the side eye damian gave her and she knew she had to act quick because you were both two idiots in love and she couldn’t stand the glances and flirts you gave each other without realising that you both had feelings.

once you finished your interview, you ran back to your changing room and put on some clothes you brought for the club. nothing too excessive but you felt comfortable in that short dress you got. it was one of your favourites and you always looked for an occasion to wear it. pairing it with matching heels, you were done, ready for rhea who was taking longer - as usual.

as you walked towards her changing room, your eyes met with damian. shyly smiling, you waved at him.

you were breathtaking, the most beautiful person he’s ever seen “the dress looks good on you” he complimented you. he was genuine, you could tell it from his smile “rhea’s almost done, sorry we took so long with the interviews”

“thank you…” your face was heating up, not used to being complimented so often and especially not by the man you had a crush on “and no problem with that, i get, interviews can be long sometimes” as you were both speaking you saw rhea making her way out of her room.

wearing a black top and a black pair of jeans, boots and a black purse, she was more than ready.

“ready girl?” she smirked at you, making you nod your head.

“have fun girls” damian smiled - or at least, he tried. he walked with you to the parking lot before getting into rental and driving away, back to the hotel.

of course rhea had to pick metal music for the ride but you didn’t mind it as your mind was thinking of the latin man. you wished you had a closer bond with him, like him and rhea, or maybe even more but in your mind he was way out of your league. you saw the women he was interested in and none of them looked like you. those were models, tall and beautiful, and you were just, well, you. you knew that damian would never think of you like that but sometimes you wondered how it would feel like being loved by him.

you saw it with rhea. how caring he was towards her. how he cared for her, always making sure she was okay - especially since the judgement day broke apart - how he always texted her if she was okay or if she needed anything. you thought about the woman he would fall in love with one day and how lucky she was would be.

“…earth to y/n…” rhea snapped her fingers in front of your face trying to wake you up from your thoughts “are you here?”

“oh sorry, i was thinking…are we arrived?” you asked and she nodded.

seeing the parking lot loaded with cars, maybe this club was full seven days a week, you thought. making your way into the place, you were both met with the flashing neon lights and the disco music echoing inside.

a lot of people dancing and some at the bar, but it was nice and cool, no drunk men dancing and trying to catch girls attention, bodyguards securing the area. it wasn’t bad at all.

“i need a drink first” you laughed as rhea followed you to the bar as you both ordered some cocktails. rhea decided to stay light with her drink, knowing that she would have to drive you back to the hotel while you tried a vodka and tequila mixed cocktail. it was strong but not enough for you. you never really liked alcohol but tonight you were testing yourself.

“is it good?” rhea asked seeing how quickly you drank that.

“yup” you giggled “i’m gonna get another one and then we can dance?” you weren’t really waiting for an answer from rhea but she wasn’t expecting to see you getting a second drink in less than ten minutes.

once your glass was full again, rhea dragged you to the dance floor. maybe it was the music mixed with the taste of alcohol burning in your mouth but everything was spinning and you loved that sensation.

you couldn’t even tell how much time passed but your legs were feeling heavy. you needed to sit for a bit. rhea agreed and she pointed out a small booth at the end of the club.

“my feet are killing me” you laughed, exhaling trying to let go of your pain.

“i told you multiple times to not wear heels when you’re dancing…but you never listen” smirking, she pointed out at your red feet.

“yeah i know…” as you were both joking, a barista came to your both and offered you two shots of tequila.

“it’s on the house” she gently said before leaving.

“oh i can’t drink that or i’m not gonna be able to drive back” rhea said but she didn’t mind. she wasn’t a fan of alcohol, in fact she always tried to avoid it. you took both glasses and shoved them down your throat. feeling the burning sensation, not helping your head who was still spinning from before “okay girl, take my glass too, i guess” rhea laughed.

two shots and two cocktails later, you were now sipping wine as rhea blurted out how happy she was with jey.

your head was spinning, laughing from time to time.

“girl, you still with me?” rhea asked waiting for a reply but all that came out from your lips was a drunk laugh “y/n?”

“i’m okay…” you whispered.

not sounding so sure, rhea rolled her eyes “stop drinking that wine”

“i rather drink than face my problems…” you said looking everywhere but rhea.

“what problems?” she laughed. of course she knew anyone had problems but you never mentioned anything with her so she was pretty surprised to hear those words coming from your mouth.

you took a deep breath “damian…he’s my problem…i think i love him” you were sure you loved him.

rhea then got a big idea “stay here, and don’t drink your wine, i’ll go to the bathroom real quick”and in fact, she went to the bathroom, sending a quick text message to damian, knowing that if you needed help, he would be on his feet in less than ten seconds.

hey dam! i hope you’re still awake. y/n is drunk and i don’t think i’ll be able to bring her back to the hotel. can you come here and help me please?

as damian saw that text, he took less than five minutes to wear a pair of shoes and texting rhea for the address. rhea always told him how you weren’t much of a drinker so he got worried, fearing someone tried to get their way with you.

“where did you go?” you asked rhea with a disapproval look “you left me alone so i started talking about my problems with the barista…she offered me another shot” you pointed out at the empty glass in front of you.

rhea breathed “i called back up…we’re going back to the hotel…” she next to you.

only fifteen minutes away rhea spotted damian inside the building. waving at him she showed him where you were both sitting.

“rhea, what is he doing here?” you drunkly asked.

“you two need to figure out what you feel for each other…he’s gonna take care of you” she whispered as she saw damian approaching the two of you.

before you could contest her words, damian saw how lost your look was and eyed rhea, asking for questions but she simply shook her head.

“i called back up” she laughed seeing damian “thanks for coming” she greeted him as he nodded his head “he’s gonna help you…i’m gonna get back to the hotel”

damian was shocked with rhea’s words “wait what…you’re leaving?”

“yeah…that’s why i called you…you two, figure it out” she said before leaving.

as you both watched her leaving the club, you were wondering what did you have to figure out with damian. he was there just to help a friend - rhea, because she called him - and that was. nothing more.

he softly smiled at you “let’s get you into the car” as he gently helped you on your feet and guided you back to his car.

he made sure tu buckle your seat belt and he start driving. it was clear to anyone that you were drunk and he tried to drive cautiously, not wanting to make you sick.

“why are you here?” you asked, your eyes looking outside the window.

“rhea texted me…she was worried about you. you usually don’t drink and seeing you soo…drunk made her worry and honestly i worried too…” he spoke, his eyes still on the road.

“worried? you? worried about me?” you chuckled “why? it’s not like you care about me…we don’t even know each other that well…” you didn’t want to be so rude but your drunk thoughts were coming out and you didn’t know how to stop them.

damian was hurt by your words, but he knew that you were drunk and you didn’t mean what you actually said “i care about you…more than what you think” he whispered low just enough for you to hear it.

you heard his words, you just didn’t know what to say. you pretended nothing happened and he kept driving towards the hotel. once you arrived at the building, damian walked you through the long halls and reached for the elevator. you didn’t even notice that he pushed the bottom for his floor and not yours. you realised it only when you reached his room and you met with the welcoming feeling of his perfume and cologne.

“damian this isn’t my room…” you whispered as he sat you down on his bed.

“i know…i’m not leaving you alone tonight. you’re too drunk and if you get sick at least i’ll be here to help you” he said while throwing his shoes somewhere in the room.

was he serious? no - maybe he was just pitying you. he was doing this because rhea asked him, not because he really wanted. that was all your mind kept telling you while in reality damian wanted to take care of you. wanted to have you in his arms, cuddle you and making you feel safe. hell, he was going to hold your hair up in case you needed to throw up. and he never done that for anyone.

he sensed your hesitation “i meant it…what i say before, in the car, i meant every single word i said…” he said sitting next to you.

“but why?” your mind told you to stop asking him stupid questions and and savour the moment but your heart needed to know all the truth on my he was so caring with you. because, maybe, there was going to be a chance for you.

he gently cupped your face in his warm big hands and he smiled “because i have feelings for you. i love you and i always will…i care so much about you. and the fact that we are not even so close kills me because i never know if you’re okay or if you need help, if you’re happy or sad…i wanna be part of your life and i wanna be a part with being more than friends” his soft fingers stroked your cheeks making you lean into his touch.

“that’s all i’ve been waiting to hear…” you whispered. your confession surprising him. sure, you were drunk but not that drunk to say stupid things “i always liked you but i never thought you would like someone like me…”

“someone like you it’s all i want…you, it’s all i want…” he smiled, looking up at your eyes, searching for any sign of discomfort but when he saw none, he leaned his lips over yours “i wanna kiss you”

“i might smell like alcohol but i wanna kiss you damian…please” you almost begged, making him laugh.

you felt his hot breath over your lips, gazing and teasing before he gently lowered his head down and finally kissed you. he was soft with you, his hands moving from your face to your hips, holding you closer as your hands lost in his long hair.

you both separated to catch breath and as you were staring in each other’s eyes you realised how stupid you were. two idiots in love - as rhea often said - that couldn’t understand that they both had feelings for the other.

“stay here tonight and let me take care of you…” damian whispered making you nod your head “i told rhea that monday nights at the club can be boring…i can’t believe you got that drunk” he smirked making you chuckle.

“it’s gonna be a long night, my head is about to explode” you joked, throwing yourself back into the bed.

it was a long night indeed. you complaining how bad your head hurt and being nauseous all the time but damian had you safe in his arms - and your hair safe in his hands as you threw up in the bathroom - you knew that you were going to be fine.

[loggiepj]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Cheerleader Wanda x Nerd Fem Reader Short Stories

Pietro has consulted his friend Christine who's into graphic design to help improve the layout of the school's newspaper. And that means afterclass meetings with the group, especially between the two of you.

Through time spent together, you and Christine turn into somewhat friends but she only talks to you often even if Pietro is around. You don't put much thought into it, until one afternoon when she asks you out on a date.

"Oh," is all you can reply at first, reasoning afterwards that you have no plans to date for the meantime and to focus on studies first. Although, in your heart, there's already a reserved space for the one and only Wanda. And she's still occupying that space.

Christine however is not sad when you turn her down. It only spurs her determination.

The relentless flirting from Christine does not stop, and even Pietro has noticed it during meetings.

He brings it up by mistake one Saturday night to Wanda when they two have dinner alone together, not knowing Wanda likes you that way.

"What do you mean?" Wanda snaps.

Pietro wonders why his sister's mood suddenly changes. She was just happy narrating earlier about her walk home with you.

"Christine has been flirting with Y/n during our afterclass meetings and it's bothering me whether I made the right decision inviting her to the group. I don't want Y/n to be uncomfortable and all."

Wanda falls silent, thinking about you. No, she totally does not accept this. You are hers and only hers.

"And how did she react?"

Pietro purses his lips. "I can never tell with Y/n. Maybe, I'm just the one bothered. I just want this month's issue to be great, you know. And if my staff is not one hundred percent focused, I might even lose the next month's budget increase."

And her brother's answer doesn't sit well in Wanda's stomach.

She has to know from you. That's why on Monday, she dashes towards the school's darkroom with the "Do Not Enter" sign on the door to look for you.

"Piet?" you call into the darkness, looking behind you only to find his sister. "Oh, hi, Wanda."

"Are you and Christine going out?" Wanda asks, fuming.

You stutter, "No, why would you think that?"

"Do you like her?" she asks, now avoiding your gaze.

You shake your head no. "No, I don't."

Your answer softens Wanda's composure, making her look at you. Her heart soars with delight. "That's.  . . That's good."

"Why do you ask?" You approach her.

"Nothing," she hurriedly replies. "I got to go. I have an 8am Biology class."

Confused, you find yourself nodding back. "Okay."

Wanda smiles as she brushes a strand of hair over your ear, making you blush. "You look more beautiful with your hair down like this."

You are thankful the darkness hides your red cheeks.

Then she leaves you there frozen. It isn't until Pietro arrives when you realize you still have work to do.

Author's note: I truly appreciate your continued support in reading my stories. You can help me create more stories by supporting my writing thru this link. Thank you so much. ❤

[peterm4rker]

(𐙚⋆.˚) valentine's date

🕸🕷✮⋆ [yushi x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 2.7k w. none, lmk if you find any! fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

requested!

monday, february 10th

yushi’s hands were clammy as he walked around the hall, making him wonder if the paper he held so tightly in them would be damaged by the effects of his own nervousness. 

he didn’t quite understand why he seemed to be so affected. he knew everything that was possibly there for him to know about love. he had read countless books, spent unending hours reading about the bubbly feeling in the chest; the butterflies in the stomach.

yet this was different. the feeling was more like a constant itch; the supposed tiny flying bugs like a million elephants trampling around his insides at the simple thought of you. there was something that made him completely unable to act straight whenever you were around. it was like the words got stuck in his throat, clogging it until he couldn’t breath at the expense of his dignity.

but he had always been good with written words, and he couldn’t stand the drowning feeling anymore. so he wrote five letters; tiny manifestations of the immense feelings he had for you to slip them under your door everyday until the biggest celebration of the year took place in cupid academy.

he could hear you singing through the door as he stood in front of it and his heart began to beat out of his chest as if it was attempting to reach for you. but he couldn’t bring himself to knock yet, not ready to face you. so he did exactly what he was meant to do, slipped the pink envelope right under the crack before walking away as fast as he had arrived.

it didn’t take long for you to notice it, crouching down to grab it as your eyebrows furrowed. you opened it immediately, being met with the sight of beautiful handwriting adorning a crisp white page.

with eyes just like stars and a laugh just like music.  constellations I wish to stare at forever.  a symphony of joy,  guiding my mind through undoing the knots of my woes. — completely Yours.

you read the words over and over with a confused expression adorning your face. who on earth would send you a love letter? they must’ve confused the doors. but it didn’t have a name addressed to it, so you couldn’t really know. a part of you marvelled at the idea of it actually being for you as you placed the letter on a tiny box on your nightstand, hoping that it wasn’t a misunderstanding.

...୨♡୧...

tuesday, february 11th

yushi scribbled incoherent notes on his notebook as his eyes stayed glued to down on the desk. your presence next to him was far too overwhelming for him. he could smell your perfume, feel your hair graze him sometimes when a particularly strong gust of wind seeped through the window. but he needed to get over the nervousness, sion had only asked him a simple favor, anyways.

“hey, yn?” yushi spoke once he gathered enough courage, his voice barely audible through the chatter of the classroom. he waited until he felt you look at him, his eyes staying focused on the paper. “uhm, sion asked me to let you know he is done with his part of the preparations for the festival.”

“oh, alright. thank you” you nodded, admiring his shyness with a slightly amused expression as you tried to look him in the eyes. “is he feeling better now?” “yeah, he’s still a little under the weather but he’ll be fine.” he nodded as he played with the hem of his sleeve, avoiding your eyes as if they would make him turn into stone.

“i’m glad… and how are you doing? you seemed a little tired in the morning when i saw you.” you asked, attempting to ease his nerves and form conversation.

“oh, i’m alright” he nodded quickly, his eyes slightly widened as if your question surprised him. “i had to stay up to help sakuya with a potion.”

 “that’s very nice of you” you smiled, turning your body to face him better. “you have beautiful handwriting, you know.”

and to that, his cheeks reddened like you had just confessed your undying love for him. “i get that often.”

“im glad you do, it's true.” you pointed at a specific part of the paper, the closeness allowing him to catch the smell of your perfume. “you always make your y’s like that, elegant and pretty.” 

god, he was going to die. 

it wasn’t till later in the day when you found the pink envelope you had wished oh so hard to receive on the floor besides the door. twice is a coincidence, maybe.  you thought as you scrambled to open it.

child of the sun  will you let me come close,  will I be modern Icarus,  or will I succeed in the suicidal mission that is to run my fingers down your spine,  make you shiver like I do at the sheer sight of your radiance. — completely Yours.

that day, every letter on the little poem was carefully and perfectly drawn.

...୨♡୧...

wednesday, february 12th

yushi was two minutes away from exploding. he couldn’t take it anymore; the way your eyes lit up and your smile widened every time he was around.

he was the only one that you were supposed to look at that way. what could wonbin possibly have that he didn’t? he considered himself fairly handsome, he took care of himself and sprayed cologne every morning. so why did your eyes felt immediately drawn to the dark haired male that was always conveniently close to where you stood?

“yeah, so i went yesterday and i got her,” wonbin smiled as he lifted his guitar up slightly. yushi rolled his eyes from where he sat next to sion a couple feet away.

“he gets a new guitar every two days, what’s interesting about that?” he mumbled under his breath.

his best friend chuckled and pushed his shoulder with his “that’s what you sound like when you get new books, by the way.”

“i do not sound that cocky,” the younger boy groaned, his eyes still stuck to your figure. 

“that’s because if you tried to talk to her for more than two minutes you would either start crying or die.” sion teased, although he wasn’t lying.

“i had a three minute conversation with her yesterday, thank you very much.” yushi responded without being able to hide the smile on his face, which fell immediately as he watched you approach him.

“hi guys, what's up?” you greeted as cheerfully as you always did, and just like that yushi had forgotten how to speak all together.

“all good here, just finishing the set up,” sion answered, clearly amused by his friend’s new quiet demeanor. “you?”

“same, i just had to coordinate with the band.” with wonbin, especially, yushi thought as he tried to conceal the fifth eyeroll of the last ten minutes. “now i’m waiting to go home, i have this thing that i’m waiting for and i’m kinda really excited.” you commented, albeit a little shyly as you voiced your excitement.

“oh? can we ask what it is?” sion asked curiously.

“it’s a little silly,” you chuckled, “but i’ve been getting valentine’s day letters all week so i’m trying to figure out who they’re from so i can ask them to be my valentine.”

your WHAT.

yushi looked up with wide eyes, but yours weren’t focused on his like he feared.

“just like that? you don’t even know what they look like!” sion asked, a smirk growing in his lips as he asked. he knew too much.

“i dont know, i just… the words they’re writing are beautiful and i’ve never had anyone say something to me like that” you shrugged, a smile dangling on your lips. “so call me weak or whatever.”

before sion could speak again, yushi did “it’ll be there soon.” he said, hearing his voice come out of his mouth before he could even comprehend what he had done.

“oh” you spoke, an astonished expression. he watched the cogs of your brain work for a few seconds before the look morphed into a new smile. “i’ll be waiting for it, then.” you smiled brightly at him before hearing your name being called from away. “i have to go now… bye guys!”

a few seconds passed as the boy watched you walk away.

“you did not just say that!” sion exclaimed before bursting out in laughter.

“i’m going to kill you and then myself.” the younger boy frowned, covering his face with embarrassment.

still, just like he promised, the letter didn’t take long to arrive once you made your way to your dorm.

in the silent streams of star-knit quilts  you and I,  dancing through our love ignoring the depths of the contradictions. — completely Yours.

your smile was wider than ever as you hugged the paper to your chest.

...୨♡୧...

thursday, february 13th.

 “morning,” your voice caught yushi’s attention as you approached your shared desk.

“morning,” he mumbled, forcing himself to look at you as you sat down next to him.

“did you sleep well today?” you asked, not wasting the opportunity to talk to him before the class started.

“yeah,” he nodded, followed by silence. 

your eyes filled slightly with disappointment at his dry responses, but you understood. he had never been talkative with you anyways.

the boy panicked as he caught the flash passing through your eyes, scrambling to say something, anything. “i had a weird dream, you were in it”

cupid please save him.

“you did?” you perked up, and maybe the look of excitement you gave him was worth the embarrassment.

“mhm” he nodded, dreading the fact that this meant he had to tell you about his dream. “it was about green slime looking thingies trying to take over the school.” he said, and you had to lean a little closer to actually be able to listen.

“oh shit, did i get abducted?” you asked, looking genuinely interested about the whole ordeal.

“no, you survived just fine.” a small smile began appearing in yushi’s face, the always prevailing knot in his throat seeming to be dissipating.

“was i the hero then? i totally saved you, didn’t i?” the smug look on your face made his heart flutter.

“sure, if that’s what you want” he chuckled, and it was the first time you had ever seen him so willing to talk… or well, not completely terrified of you.

“i’d like that,” you nodded, your smile completely radiant with happiness, blinding the poor boy in front of you.

he took too long to come up with an answer, being interrupted by the teacher calling for attention before he could say anything. you smiled at him before turning your attention to the professor, and yushi felt his words die on his tongue.

but he had done it. he talked to you like a normal person, even made you smile. 

that day, the letter wasn’t on your floor when you arrived. however, you found it perched between the pages of your notebook.

dear siren, don’t ever let me go. let me drown in the citric smell of your perfume, as to die by your touch would be to die a happy man. — completely Yours.

he had gotten bolder, and your heart was about to race out of your chest as you finally recognized the pretty ways the y’s curled around each other.

...୨♡୧...

friday, february 14th

“you know you actually have to ask her for her to be your date, right?” ryo asked as he pulled on yushi’s hair, annoying him as his favorite pastime.

“shut up, i beg you,” the older boy asked as he swatted his hand away, fixing the strands on the mirror. “i have a plan, okay?”

“is your plan staring at wonbin until he melts?” sakuya asked, and yushi really wondered why he had ever chosen to befriend the gremlins.

“no, of course not,” yushi flicked his forehead, “although that doesn’t sound half bad.”

“he’s literally so nice, you’re just jealous.” riku spoke from his place on the couch.

“yes, so i don’t care.” he agreed, snatching something from his desk drawer before walking towards the door. “okay, please pray for me.”

and with a cheer from his overly loud friendgroup, he set path to your dorm.

he stood in front of your door for a couple minutes before he finally gathered up the courage to knock, feeling like a part of his soul died the second his knuckles hit the wood.

“be right there!” your voice rang, and he contemplated his last chance to run away until you opened the door. “oh, yushi, hi” you smiled as you looked at him.

his eyes couldn't help but roam over your body quickly, almost stopping to admire the way the small shorts you wore hugged your figure perfectly. 

“hi,” he said, already sounding breathless. 

“what’s up?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

“i, uhm” he stuttered, trying to get rid of the knot in his throat. he had to do it, he had to be in control of his emotions if he ever wanted to succeed with you. 

“it’s okay, take your time.” you reassured, finding his eyes to give him a reassuring look. “i’m not going anywhere.”

your words made his heart beat straight to a frenzy. how were you always so perfect? 

“i came to give you this.” he spoke a little too quickly as he handed you the pink envelope you had become familiar with, praying that you didn’t notice the tremble of his hands.

your eyes widened with surprise at the sight. it wasn’t like you hadn’t known, but to see him standing there was a whole different level of emotion.

“thank you, yushi” you smiled, grabbing the envelope and keeping it close to your chest.

“since when have you known it was me?” he asked after a beat of silence, shyly looking at the floor.

“since the day we talked about it with sion,” you admitted, slightly amused at his shyness. “then yesterday i made sense of it, you draw your y’s funny.”

the boy felt his cheeks about to burst.

“i should've known,” he chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head.

“i liked it though, the whole secret admirer thing.” you reassured, and his smile was as soft as his eyes.

“i’m glad you did.” he smiled bigger now, his voice more firm as he recognized the glint in your eyes to be one he had imagined reflected in his own every time he looked at you. 

“so… i’m guessing you don’t have a date for the festival today?” you asked as you fiddled with the paper in your hands.

“i don’t, no” he shook his head, thanking every single god out there for what he knew was about to come out of your mouth.

“okay, good.” you smiled. “wait here for a second, don’t go anywhere.” you said quickly before disappearing behind the door, leaving a confused yushi behind. “okay, i got it” you smiled once you had come back, handing him a red envelope. “i’m not as talented with words as you are, so no judgement… but you go ahead and open it.”

yushi felt like he was going to burst just because of the gesture, he cared little about how good the content was inside of it. he opened it fastly, not being able to contain the chuckle that tumbled past his lips.

would you pretty please (with a cherry on top) be my valentine’s date? ☐ yes                ☐ absolutely                   ☐ do you even have to ask? — also completely yours.

you looked at him expectantly for an answer, immediately connecting eyes once he looked up. 

“there are stickers there so you can mark your answer.” you said, and he couldn’t believe someone as cute as you existed.

he wordlessly looked for the heart shaped stickers, turning around so you wouldn’t see where he placed them. once he handed the letter back to you, you chuckled at the sight of all three ballots marked.

“perfect,” you smiled, walking closer to place a small kiss on his cheek. “i have to get ready still, but you can come in to wait.”

this was the best fucking day of his life.

★ blue's corner ;; my first request guys im like this :DDDDD. i'm so happy that people like my work enough to trust me with their requests, so i really hope i you like this !! i know valentine's was two days ago but i really wanted to make this good, so bear with me please ALSO all poems by me hehehehehe ★ taglist ;; @neozon3nha @winwintea @spacejip @dudekiss3r @yizhrt @lyvhie @mae3xoxo ★ back to the masterlist. ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!! ★ divider by @dollywons

© peterm4rker, 2025

[floweringlino]

Vodka Redbull | H.J

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 ; she really doesn’t know how to relax does she? Maybe he can help her let loose a little bit in all the chaos of work.

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; Chef de Partie!Jisung x Maitre!reader

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 ; mention of alcohol and drinking, very light angst, mention of one night stand, suggestive and fluffy

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 ; 2,5k

The Gods Menu

Back to my masterlist

✎ ❀

Almost.

Almost done, she thought as she polished the last of the wine glasses. The bigger glasses were for the main corses, the red wines. The champagne glasses needed to go to a pedestal in the restaurant. Placing the high places on a tray she handed it to a waitress after she was done with them.

"Jessica, can you come here?" She asked one of her staff. The younger sommelier made her was over to her boss nervously.

"Yes ma'am?" She mumbled with her head down.

"Next time, you need to try and sell the special wines. Selected courses are fine of course but we have a couple of bottles that I want gone. Try to use them in the al a carte menu's. Like with the Veal you can suggest the Bernardus Chardonnay Monterey County Jeroboam. No critique, just telling you." She winked at her colleagues, always trying to remain kind.

Her eyes wondered to the loud yelling in the kitchen. They needed to quiet down. What if there were still guest in the restaurant. With a quick pace  on her heels, she walked over to the counter. One of the guys was slapping the other guys with a wet towel resulting in a loud slapping sound.

Jisung noticed her approach from the corner of his eye, quickly nodding to The intern Jeongin to stop what they were doing.

"Can all of you shut up? What if we had guests sitting." She whisper yelled at them. As they quickly put the towels away and continued cleaning, the cook made his was over to the sommelier.

"Who pissed in your drink, beautiful?"

"Fuck off, Jisung. I just wanna be done for today. I need this weekend." She rolled his eyes at him, noticing the grin on his face ridiculously beautiful face.

"Im sorry, we'll hurry up okay?" She mumbled a thanks and paced away again.

"Y/n, wait!" She turned around again in a 180° motion.

"You wanna come drinking with the guys and me?"

"And feel left out the entire time? No thanks."

"Come on, Y/nnie! It'll be fun!" The pastry chef, Felix, yelled from somewhere behind him.

"I'll make it fully worth your while, i promise."

"Let me think about it." She told them and walked away for real this time.

-

It was around 1 in the night when all of them were finally all done. Some of the cooks had left already but 5 of them were waiting for the sommelier to be done so when she finally made her was to the dressing rooms they cheered for her.

"Are you actually gonna come with us?" Felix asked her with hope in his voice. She nodded and they all cheered even louder. She wondered how loud all of them could all be, thinking she had already heard the full extent of it in the kitchen.

It was Jisung, Chan, Felix, Changbin and Minho waiting for her. They had sent Jeongin and the other intern home, they wanted to come but they needed to go to school early. Their weekend was Monday and Tuesdays as those were the days the restaurant was closed but those were also the two days the intern needed to go to school.

"Wait are you really coming? Kinda didn't think you would." Jisung teased her, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"Why wouldn’t i?” She questioned them.

“Well you’re kinda always fully business. We’ve never really seen you have fun so we didn’t think you did fun.” Chan confessed to her trying not to sound mean but it didn’t really help. She did have fun sometimes. Not her entire live revolved around work.

Well I do have fun sometimes so if yall can leave and let me get dressed, ill be out is a couple of seconds.” 4 out of 5 boys left the room and apologised at the same time, Jisung stayed behind.

"Can't i watch?" He asked with a desperate undertone, after which Chan dragged him out of the room.

She couldn't help but sniffle a laugh.

-

A little later the 6 of them made their way into the street where all the bars were. She hadn't been there in at least a year because of her job, the guys were very familiar with the placed they walked passed, making comments as to why they didn't walk inside

"Too many chicks."

"Firstly don't call them chicks. Jisung. It doesn't make you look cool. Secondly, since when is too many girls a problem?" She questioned him. He smugly smiled at her.

"Don't need any. Got my number one girl right here." He winked and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She left it like that, not disliking the feeling of an arm around her. His arm specifically.

They follwed Chan into a bar they seemingly were all familiar with.

"143" she mumbled the name and as they walked in she felt Jisungs stare on her. Pushing past the crowd of people, she felt his arm slipping of her shoulders. He walked in front of her and just as he was about to lose her, he reached for her hand and pulled her closer. She mumbled soft sorry's around her and the group made their way to the dance floor. Finding her place she started to move a little to the loud music.

"Let me get you a drink, what do you like?" Jisung yelled over the music. She didn't hear him so she pulled him closer to her to make him ask her again.

"What can i get you?"

"Vodka Red Bull please?" She had to look up at him a little through her eyelashes.

"Really? Miss ‘i sell thousand dollar wines every night like its nothing’ drink a basic red bull vodka?" He laughed at her but not in any way that would hurt her. She laughed with him and nodded with a smile. He left her there to get her her drink. Without him she felt a little lost and didn’t know what to do. They really weren’t lying. So didn’t do fun things. Her idea of fun things was staying longer and work and mapping all of the wines. When he returned with the glasses he handed her hers and she took a big swig of it.

“Wow take it easy, beautiful.”

"Lets get shitfaced tonight." She grinned and cheered at what he said with the rest of their colleagues.

“Why do you wanna get shitfaced?”

“Because I don’t know what Im doing Jisung. I can’t even dance.” He grinned and her and placed his hand on her waist. Pulling her against himself.

“Just follow me, okay? I got you.” He laughed, kissing her cheek and taking another chug of his drink.

And shitfaced they got. The rest of the night was filled with drinking and dancing. Lots of dancing. After the what felt like 100th shot the bodies got closer together. Jisungs breath heated up her neck and her cheeks. His hand was still on her waist as they moved simultaneously. Her ass pressing into his crotch and his pressing his lips in her neck every once in a while. As long as she didn't stop him, he saw no point in them stopping.

From the back, she looked up at him. Her eyes drunk and her hair sweaty and sticky. Their bodies where wet from fallen beer and sweat. They probably looked beyond drunk but it all didn't matter. Right here, right now, she was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid his eyes upon.

"Lets all go home." Chan said around the group, to which most agreed.

He questioned himself. Did he even dare to ask? He eyes looked into her searching for a sign. Something for him to gain the confidence. And there it was, just a simple shimmering in her drunk gaze.

"Wanna come back to mine?" It was only a whisper but his words sounded like sirens in her head. Don't do it. You work together, this is a bad plan. Think of your carreer.

But it all didn't matter at this moment.

She pressed her lips to his and in the hasty kiss mumbled a yes. He grinned at her and wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer.

The walk to his house were filled with gentle touches as they slowly got there. They had lost the others way back at the bar but they didn’t care and they didn’t try to stop them. He pressed her against the front door the second she closed it behind her. His arm rested above her and the other one slid from her waist to her jawline. Pulling away he smiled down at her.

Maybe there was a way she wouldn't regret this in the morning.

-

The sun burned in her eyes when she slightly opened them. The bedsheets perfectly wrapped around her and the pillow was softer than she was used to.

This wasn't her pillow. Her breath stoked in anxiety. Where was she? Then she noticed the arm wrapped around her waist. Turning her head she looked back at the sleeping guy behind her. She muttered out a couple fucks and peeled the arm away from her. Slipping away from his body as silently as possible not wanting to wake him.

Sitting on the edge of his bed she grabbed her phone. 9.30. Quickly putting on her clothes and without a sound she left the appartement, not caring about the messy hookup look she was rocking. Luckily she didn't have to see him next Monday and Tuesday.

The next to days where spend question her decision. She thought about quitting her job, not wanting to face the guy out of embarrassment. But maybe that was taking it way too far. It was just a hook up. Sure she thought he was funny, handsome , kind and very hot but it all didn't matter. They worked together and you simply don't date colleagues.

When she walked into work the next day she could already hear the guys busy in the kitchen. They would see her when she made her way over to the bar and when they did she heard them whispering. It was about her, of course it was. All of them had seen the two of them leave together.

She tried to ignore them but her eyes kept wondering over in admiration. Sure, they all joked around when it was quiet but nothing stopped these guys. The hours they make are nothing compared to hers. It was passion and art.

Her eyes crossed Jisungs and it made her jump a little. She quickly looked away and tried to ignore his burning gaze. And as quickly as the day started it was over again. A part of her hated the silence. It was killing. They weren’t talking to each other and that didn’t only mean Jisung and Y/n. All of them ignored each other. The kitchen didn’t talk to the waitresses and quickly picking up the vibes, the waitresses didn’t talk to the kitchen. It was Wednesday so they were lucky it wasn’t busy but if this had happened on a Saturday they would have been in total shit.

Her phone dinged and she quickly looked at it, her heart skipping a beat.

Suddenly the room felt a lot smaller. Did the walls have eyes? She felt so watched so when she looked back at the kitchen she expected him to be looking at her and she was right. Not only him, also his friends. They patted his back and walked away from the kitchen towards the changing rooms.

The girls from her staff made her way towards her.

“Y/nnie, we’re done with everything you asked us. Can we leave? Some of us have school in the morning and today like, really sucked.”

“Of course girls, text me in the group chat when you all get home safely and goodnight.” They all said goodbye and got ready to leave.

“We hope that you and Jisung figure out whatever is happening!” And with the they left her completely speechless. It was only them. And finally it was time to talk. Her eyes wondered back to the kitchen where the light was now turned off except for the orange heating lamp of the pass. Underneath layed sugered cherry tomatoes to dry. She walked to the kitchen to see if Jisung was still there but she didn’t see him.

The hand on her shoulder made her jump.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine Jisung. You wanted to talk?” It’s like she dismissed it. Like it didn’t matter. He looked at her a bit shocked.

“No no this is not how we’re gonna do this. Were gonna sit down and talk. And with that i mean that you’re gonna explain why you ran out on me.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her to sick down on one of the sofas the restaurant had.

“I don’t think I can do this Jisung.”

“You’re gonna have to because right now its hurting me.”

“How is it hurting you?” Sh asked him, looking him deep in his eyes. She saw hurt and pain in them.

“Because right now I cant help but think that I was so awful to you that it made you run away.”

“Its not that Jisung.”

“Then what is it. What made you run out on me after the best night of my life?” He grabbed both of her hands in his, forcing them to stare at each other. Tears pooled in her eyes as she sought the words the wanted to speak.

“Because im scared. Jisung.”

“You? You’re not scared of anything. You’re Y/N, you’re the person everyone looks up to. The person everyone goes to when they need anything. You’re the backbone of the restaurant.”

Me? Jisung, im scared of everything. Im scared of my future, im scared of what to do, of taking charge, of who i am. But most of all im scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life that way that I felt that night that i was with you.” Her lips fell in a smile with the tears on her cheeks. The confession was a heavy burden on her shoulders but it was finally lifted. Jisung reached for her cheeks wipping the tears away. She leaned into the touch of his hand she smiled.

“I know that this, us scares you but please give me a chance to prove to you that im worth it. That im worth the risk.”

“I know you are Jisung.” He finally dared to smile back at her. He leaned in slowly, his hand still on her cheek.

“Can I kiss you again, Beautiful?” She nodded and excepted his loving kiss. She still remembered all the kisses they shared two nights ago but this one was different. It held promises, and finally work wasn’t the only thing on her mind.

It was him, all him.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙

𝑨/𝑵: oh em ghee this one took such a long time im so sorry ive been working sooo much. I hope you like it🫶🏼

Taglist: @nightmarenyxx 🫶🏼💓

[agathaandbrienneslesbian]

In Your Words

Larissa Weems x Fem!Journalist!Reader

Hiya! I've finally finished this bad boy <3 I'm uploading this lengthy fic cause I'll be having a shit ton of Uni Exams the next few weeks and won't be able to write.

Big thanks to @weemssapphic and some other friends for proofreading this fic <3

Disclaimer: English is not my first language!

Warning: SMUT 18+, minors DNI

Authors Note: Y/N is a newsreporter and wants to write a story about Nevermore and outcasts. What happens if a normie Journalist and an outcast Headmistress work together? (I suck at descriptions, have fun xD)

Words: 9'200+

Ao3 Link

Taglist

--------

You sat in your little office at the news station of Jericho, finger hovering over the mouse of your computer. You were hesitating. The cursor sat neatly atop the ‘send’ button, ready to send your email to its recipient. But you hesitated. Why? You didn’t know. 

It’s true that it was frowned upon to interact with the outcasts, but you just couldn’t believe that they were as terrible as everyone said they were. You have seen them plenty of times strolling through the little city, shopping and stopping by the Weathervane for a drink. None of them ever seemed malicious or evil to you. With a deep inhale, you pressed send and quickly shut your computer off. There's no going back now. 

—

The next day at the office, you were surprised to find that the Headmistress of Nevermore Academy, Larissa Weems, has replied. With a nervous breath, you opened the email:

Dear Miss Y/l/n,

I am pleasantly surprised about learning of your interest in outcasts, my students and the school in general. There are, however, a few things I would like to clarify first.

Now, if I understood correctly, you wish to catch a glimpse into the life of an outcast to then create a report about our differences and similarities with non-outcasts? 

Because of the nature of this request, I have to let you know that I will not tolerate any sort of mockery or bad-mouthing of my students or my school. 

You will have to follow our rules, outcast or not. 

I won’t allow you to follow one of my students around, as this would pose a serious safety hazard for my students and yourself. 

However, you are very welcome to settle yourself into my office and follow me around for however many days you deem necessary. 

If this is alright with you, I would be willing to meet you coming Monday at the Weathervane and take you to the Academy. 

Sincerely,

Larissa Weems

You released the breath you were holding and smiled to yourself. You replied to Miss Weems, agreeing to her terms and wishing her a wonderful weekend. 

The following two hours consisted of preparing everything you needed for your report: a few notepads and notebooks, your laptop, a tablet, your camera and some pens. You couldn't help but feel nervous at the prospect of having the opportunity to report about the outcasts. This was not a subject anyone had ever really done research on, and you were adamant to figure out why everyone seemed so fearful of a bunch of teenagers in a school in the woods. 

Over the weekend, you exchanged a few more emails with the Principal, clearing up any last logistical problems you’ve had. 

You asked if you were allowed to stay for a week, to which she replied that it would be no problem if you agreed to stay in one of the empty studios that were meant for teachers at Nevermore. 

Of course, you agreed.

Monday rolled around, and you were standing in front of the Weathervane, waiting for the Principal of Nevermore to pick you up. You have heard descriptions of her, and you knew she frequented the little Café a lot, yet you have never seen her in person before. Absentmindedly, you sipped on your hot chocolate, typing something on your phone, when suddenly:

“Miss Y/l/n I presume?” A soft voice with a wonderful British accent sounded from beside you. You turned your head to be met with a beige coat. Having to look up you finally made eye contact with the woman whose beautiful voice ripped you out of your thoughts.

You smiled up at her, nervousness flooding your chest as you took in the beauty of the woman in front of you.

“Principal Weems. It’s a pleasure to meet you!” you said quietly, nerves completely taking over your logical mind and body. You reached your hand out to shake hers. She took her beige glove off, and took your hand in hers. Her hand was soft, warm and wrapped perfectly around yours. Perfectly manicured red nails decorated her pale skin. 

“Likewise!” She smiled down at you and removed her hand, putting her glove on again, and you immediately missed the feeling of her hand on yours. 

“Are you ready for us to leave, Miss Y/l/n?”

“Oh… yes, of course!” You grabbed your bag with your equipment and personal items and followed her to her car. You set your luggage in the boot and sat in the passenger seat. Larissa sat in the driver's seat and started driving towards the Academy. After some silence, you spoke up again.

“Thank you so much for letting me stay at the Academy for a week.” Larissa smiled to herself and quickly glanced over at you before eyeing the road again.

“I should thank you. My students usually don’t get this sort of… exposure to the outside world. We are used to people avoiding us because of… fear or discrimination… whatever you want to call it.” Her tone shifted to a quieter and more serious one, her hands gripping the steering wheel just a little tighter. You sensed a shift in energy and gave her a reassuring smile. 

“I believe everyone deserves a chance to be understood and seen.” You replied, and that seemed to relax the headmistress. She shot you a thankful smile, then focused back on the road, the rest of the ride being spent in comfortable silence.

—

Once at Nevermore, Larissa showed you around the grounds, having one of the teachers carry your possessions to the on-campus studio flat, which will be your new home for the following week. 

Roaming the halls, it didn’t seem much different than a school for regular humans (besides it being incredibly fancy, of course) and you found that the students seemed like sweet kids. Truly, you couldn’t understand how there was so much hatred and fear surrounding these kids. 

Larissa led you to her office, offering you a separate desk to work on. You set your laptop bag on the desk and turned to look at the headmistress, who was standing next to her desk.

“Now, Miss Y/l/n, you are free to follow me around the Academy whenever you want, but I trust you understand why I wouldn’t want you roaming the halls on your own.” She looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Of course, Miss Weems!” you reassured her quickly. “I understand how important it is for you to protect these kids… but I can assure you there are no ill intentions by me being here! After what I’ve seen thus far, I cannot believe why anyone would be fearful of outcasts. This is why I’m here. I don’t believe that these kids are as dangerous as everyone in Jericho, let alone the rest of the world, believes them to be.” You looked at her, and there was a slight shift of emotion on her face. Hope? Distrust? Surprise? You didn't know. After a few seconds of silence, the headmistress spoke up again.

“Very well,” she said, grinning at you with her million-dollar-winning smile. “If you ever feel like you would like to see more of the school or learn about its history, don’t be afraid to ask.” Her smile softened slightly. She seemed very fond of her students and her Academy. It truly warmed your heart, and you couldn't help but blush slightly. With a slight nod, you thanked her and sat down, getting your things ready to start your research. 

Every now and then throughout the morning, you caught yourself glancing over at the tall woman. She sat in perfect posture, working on her laptop and typing away on some emails or documents. You didn’t realise how long you had been staring at her. The way her eyes flicked over the screen and the way she swiftly moved her fingers over the keyboard had you in a trance-like state. Her perfectly painted red lip curled up on the side, and she raised one of her eyebrows.

“Has no one taught you that staring is rude?” Her eyes flicked over to yours, and you quickly averted your eyes back on your own screen, mumbling a quiet ‘sorry’ her way. Your face felt hot, and you knew you were blushing, hard. Larissa chuckled and shook her head a bit in amusement. She stopped her typing and leaned back against the seat, turning to look at you, studying you as if she were… considering you. Shyly, you moved your gaze back to her. 

“Would you like to have a look at one of the classes? Our subjects can vary drastically from the ones in your schools.” she smiled at you and tilted her head slightly. 

“I-I would appreciate that, yes.” You answered, nodding, and quickly moved to grab your notepad and pen. When you looked back up, Larissa was already standing and walking towards the door of her office, only stopping to wait for you to catch up. 

This morning, the headmistress took you to several classes, telling you about all the different subjects they have. You eagerly took notes, asking questions and listening intently to subjects you’d never heard of. Magic, transformation, siren song, etc. You were fascinated, and that didn’t get lost on Larissa. The longer she watched you, the more fond she grew of you. Your interest and amazement made her heart swell with pride for her school and her students. Even though she was rather careful of what to show you, she felt that this might be the biggest step ever made for outcasts to be accepted into everyday normie lives. 

—

The day went by way faster than you would have wished for it. You have learned so much and were eager to learn even more. Larissa had taken her time explaining their school system to you and while you saw drastic differences, it still didn’t feel too out of the norm. There was one particular student that caught your eye. A rebel, you thought, someone who likes to prank and go against the rules. Those exist in every school, of course, but this girl seemed different. She did it with such nonchalance and elegance that it was almost invisible to the untrained eye. 

After asking the headmistress, she told you about the student. Not much, just enough to answer your questions. Larissa seemed tense so you decided to change the subject, asking her about her own time at the school, and from then on the two of you got completely lost in conversation. Hours passed, and you shared your school experiences and collectively decided that they weren't all too different. With a heavy sigh, you leaned against the couch and watched Larissa refill yours and her wine glass. 

“I have to be honest, even after just one day I have seen enough to tell you that this,” you waved your hand around, “is definitely nothing to be afraid or weary of. I mean… I always knew that the other… “normies”... are being way too sensitive when it comes to this place and its students but seeing it for myself… I simply can’t understand why there's so much hate and fear towards these poor students.” You sighed and took a sip of wine. “I mean… they're just kids aren't they?” You glanced up at the headmistress to see her smiling at you softly, humming in agreement. 

“I have to be honest, Miss Y/l/n-”

“Y/n! You can call me Y/n if you want to,” you interrupted her with a smile, looking back into your glass as you felt your face blush.

“Y/n… I am surprised and… relieved.” She smiled sweetly at you then looked into the fireplace, a sad expression crossing her face. “I wish more people could see the kids for who they are instead of for what they are.” A sigh left her lips and she took a sip of wine. “It’s not easy being… different… an outcast. You can try all you want, there will always be a hint of fear and doubt in non-outcasts.” She turned to look at you, her icy blues piercing yours. “Are you afraid, Y/n?” she asked, quietly, almost inaudible, but you caught the slight shiver in her voice. It broke your heart to see her like this. You didn’t really know that woman except for what she was willing to tell you, but you knew, without a doubt, that she was the most precious being on the entire planet, and you would move planets just to see her at peace. Without really thinking about it, you set your glass down and moved to hold one of her hands.

“Miss Weems… Larissa… if I may?” you started, gently, and she nodded at you, “I do not claim to know what you and your students have to go through, day by day. Being villainized, misunderstood and what not. But what I do know is that I want to help you make a difference. The kids are nothing but kids… Powers and mutations aside… No matter how different you may seem from me, you are still a person. You don’t deserve to be treated like they treat you… all of you.” You smiled at her with a caring expression on your face and gently squeezed her hand. Larissa looked at you, eyes trained on your face, searching for lies, but she couldn't find any. She inhaled shakily and took a big sip of her wine then squeezed your hands back.

“Thank you,” was all she replied. You didn’t need more. You knew she meant it. You felt it. With a last gentle squeeze, you let go of her hand, grabbing your glass again.

“To my… to our project!” you smirked and raised your glass to her. She chuckled and shook her head slightly, looking back at you endearingly and raised her glass as well. 

“To our project.”

—

As the week went on, Larissa and you started to develop a little routine. You would meet her in the morning to go to the Weathervane and get some breakfast to-go, spend the morning in her office or with a teacher of her choice (mostly Marilyn Thornhill), have lunch with her and the teachers, writing and researching in Larissas office, a dinner with staff and at the end of the day, a glass (or sometimes a bottle) of her favourite wine on the couch in front of the fireplace. Being around Larissa was incredibly easy. You loved talking to her, listening to her, discussing topics other than schools and outcasts. You felt safe, comfortable… you felt at home. And you weren’t the only one who felt this way. Larissa would catch herself, more than she’d like to admit, looking at you, watching you with adoration as you wrote and researched. She liked you. It wasn't a secret. She loved being around you and was looking forward to the evenings at the fireplace. A refreshing difference she desperately needed. Larissa had grown very fond of you, and she hoped you felt the same. 

When Friday evening rolled around you were already sitting on the couch in Larissa’s office, waiting for her to come back with the wine as it suddenly hit you. It was already Friday… you’ll be leaving again on Monday. You’ll have to go back to your office and finish the report. Would you be able to see her again? Could you stay in contact? Larissa entered, placing the bottle and glasses on the table then saw the light crease between your brows as you stared into the flames of the fireplace, obviously deep in thought. 

“Y/n?” she asked softly, and laid her hand on your shoulder, and you snapped your head towards her, not having heard her appear next to you. “Are you alright dear?” 

“Yeah!..yeah.” You smiled up at her, watching her sit down next to you and opening the wine bottle. “I’ve just realised that it’s already Friday… The week really went by in a flash, huh?” You took the wineglass she held out to you and looked at it, swishing the red liquid around absent-mindedly. Larissa’s heart constricted seeing you like this. 

“It did! But… as upsetting as it is, I am glad to see that you enjoyed your week here!” She took a sip of her wine and watched you closely. “That being said, seeing how my students seemed to like you being around,” and I, she thought, “you are more than welcome to return whenever you feel like it.” She watched you closely, seeing your eyes light up made her feel warm and content. 

“I would love that Larissa. Thank you! And you are always welcome at the news station. I’ll make sure the others behave, don't worry.” you giggled and winked at her which pulled a small laugh from her lips and she shook her head amusedly. “I mean it!” You smiled as you snuggled into the couch and took a sip of wine, humming as the liquid hit your tongue, “If any of your students ever wants to know more about journalism or is interested in it, let me know. Matter of fact…” you sat up and straightened your back, holding your hand out to the blonde, “give me your phone I’ll give you my number so you can just let me know in case there is something.” 

Larissa hesitated. She looked at your hand for a second, then smiled shyly and grabbed her phone, unlocking it and handing it to you to type in your number. She watched fondly as you typed your number in her phone. A slight tingle spread from her chest over her body as she took her phone back after you’ve saved your number. 

“Thank you!” she said quietly, “I- really do appreciate it… everything you do. For us. Me and the students.” A soft pink colour kissed her cheeks and she gave you a truly heartfelt smile. You smiled back at her, butterflies spreading through your whole body. Her smile was the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. You knew right there, she had you wrapped around her finger. You have fallen. 

—

You were able to finish your report on the last day of your stay in Nevermore, handing it in to be reviewed by your boss so it could be printed and released asap. With a heavy sigh, you leaned back into the chair, stretching your arms and back. Larissa smiled over at you and set her paperwork aside.

“I take it you’ve just handed in your story to be reviewed?” she asked with a gentle smile. Her eyes held a hint of sadness at the realisation that her office would be empty once again. You smiled over at her and nodded gently.

“Yes! Just handed it in! If everything goes well, you’ll be able to read it on Tuesday! And Larissa… thank you again… for everything!” 

The blonde stood up, walking over to your side, and placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently. 

“I should thank you. This… means way more to us than you could ever imagine!” Her smile was warm, eyes soft. You felt a shudder rush down your spine as you realised that you haven’t seen her this soft with anyone but you. All of this vulnerable affection was only directed towards you, only to be seen by your eyes. 

You wanted to tell her… tell her that you like her. Tell her that she is the most beautiful woman you’ve ever had the pleasure to lay your eyes on. Just as you were about to open your mouth, she pulled away. 

“If you want to, I can drive you back. I could drop you off at the Weathervane or.. At your place, if you prefer?” Larissa spoke, closing her laptop and putting her paperwork into a drawer. The headmistress didn’t want you to go, but she knew that if she would let you stay longer, she wouldn't be able to hold herself back. Certainly you wouldn’t feel the same… right?

“That.. that would be nice! Thank you!” you replied, feeling defeated. Maybe it was better to keep your feelings to yourself. Who knows, maybe she wasn’t interested in women.. Or simply normies. You took a deep breath, collecting your things and going to your room to pack the last few things. When you returned to the headmistress’ office, she was already waiting for you. 

The drive back to Jericho was rather quiet. Neither of you knew what to say to the other. You wanted to tell her everything, pour your heart out to her and so did she, but you stayed quiet. Once you arrived at your Flat Complex, Larissa turned to you. 

“It was really nice having you at Nevermore. Again, thank you for doing this for us. And… If you should ever want to come and visit, you are more than welcome to do so! I am sure the Students would love to see you again sometime.” and herself… but she didn't say that.  You gave her a genuine smile, nodding slightly. 

“I enjoyed my week there! You truly have wonderful students. And, I mean, you have my number so… if you or any of the kids should ever need something, just feel free to contact me!” You hoped she would contact you, but only time could tell. 

—

It has been a month since you’ve last heard from Larissa. Your article got approved, and she complimented you on it, thanking you again profusely. That was the last, and only, time you’ve heard of her after staying at Nevermore. Sure, she was a busy woman, but you couldn’t help but feel upset. And you wouldn’t text her first, no. The anxiety that arose in you every time you tried to do so was enough to completely freeze you. So when you walked into the Weathervane on a Thursday morning to grab a coffee, you were more than delighted to see her there, quickly walking up to her.

“Good morning, Principal Weems” you said softly, watching her turn around and seeing her eyes light up as she saw you. 

“Good morning Y/N!” she replied with a smile. That darn beautiful smile of hers. “Are you also here to grab some breakfast before work?” she asked, turning fully to you, all herattention focused on you, your face, those eyes she came to admire over the time you’ve spent at her school. 

“I am but.. Uhm… if you’re not in a hurry, would you like to have breakfast with me?” you did it, you asked her. The second the question left your lips, you felt your cheeks heat up. Larissa looked at you with adoration and nodded. 

“I would love to, actually!” She smiled and tilted her head slightly. She noticed your blush and couldn’t help but feel giddy about it. Was she the reason you blushed?

“Wonderful! What do you want? It’s my treat!” You smile, feeling a bit more confident now, seeing her soft and happy gaze directed only at you. 

“Oh, you really don’t have to-”

“But I want to!” 

Larissa sighed, shaking her head slightly with a grin, and chuckled at how adamant you were.

“Fine. Next time, it’s my treat!” She gave you her order and went to sit at a booth, waiting for you to join her. You couldn’t believe your ears. Next time? There will be a next time? The smile that spread on your lips could only be described as the smile of a happy fool. Truly, you were a fool. A fool for her. 

After you’ve ordered and paid for your coffees and pastries, you made your way over to her, slipping into the booth. 

“So… how have you been? How have the kids been?” you asked, trying to make small talk. You felt so awkward, but that feeling quickly washed away as you saw Larissa’s soft smile.

“Very well! Your report had quite the impact on how people from Jericho treat my students. I just wanted to thank you again. The effect this has had on our lives is way greater than I could have hoped for. The article… your words… truly left an impact.” She reached her hand out, grabbing yours and squeezing it lightly.

“Thank you!”

Your smile grew tenfold, and you squeezed her hand back. 

“I am so happy to hear that this has worked out so well for you and your students.” You shyly pulled your hand back and thanked the waiter when he placed your drinks and pastries in front of you.

“How have you been y/n?” Larissa asked. She was looking at you… into you… into your soul with those beautiful ice-y blue eyes. You felt your cheeks heat up and grabbed your cup as well, trying to ground yourself. 

“I’ve been well! The Article has caught a lot of attention, so I’ve been rather busy lately…” You smiled at her and took a sip as she watched. 

“Though I do have to say, I miss being around the kids…” and around you, you thought to yourself. The blonde eyed you over her coffee mug and smiled sweetly. 

“In that case, would you like to come to the Rave’N this weekend?” She did it… she asked you. Her heart was beating like crazy but seeing the light blush covering your face she couldn't help but feel proud of herself. 

“The Rave’N? Really?” You asked, not believing your ears. Larissa nodded and tilted her head. 

“Yes really! Our theme this year is ‘Climate crisis meets extinction effect’ and the dress code is white.” She took a bite of her pastry and smiled at you. You thought for a second. You didn’t have any white outfits, so you’d definitely have to buy one, but you’d be damned if you wouldn’t agree to her invitation.

“In that case, I’d love to!” The smile you gave her made Larissa’s heart melt. How were you so precious? She nodded slightly. 

“I’ll have Marilyn pick you up here at around 5:30pm on Saturday. The students will be excited to see you again!” She finished her coffee and snack and stood up.

“I’d love to stay longer, but I have to get back to Nevermore… I’ll see you this Saturday, dear.” and with that, she left your flustered self in the Weathervane.

—

Shopping for an appropriate but also impressive garment was not easy. You currently had 2 dresses in front of you and couldn’t decide which one to pick. One was made of silk and rather simple but had an extravagant high slit up your right thigh and a very low back, whereas the other covered more of your back and arms but was a bit shorter with a princess gown puff skirt. You sighed and decided to put them on again, took a picture of you wearing them and sent them to Marilyn. You and her had gotten rather close during the week you spent at Nevermore, and you’d kept contact even afterwards. She was such a sweetheart, but she was also a pain in the ass as she has been nagging you about your outfit all afternoon already. 

It didn’t take long for you to be flooded with messages of Marilyn going crazy over the silk dress. 

Marilyn:

“Oh, you SO have to get the silky one! Larissa won’t be able to keep her eyes off of you”

Y/N:

“What do you mean? Why would you say that?”

Marilyn: 

“Oh come ooooon… It is SOOOOOOO obvious that you have the hots for her… just pick the silk one.”

You were sure Marilyn would laugh at you if she could see you right now. Your face was bright red because you’d been found out. Was it really that obvious? Did Larissa know? Was that why she invited you? Could she... no. No, that probably wasn’t the case... Just wishful thinking. With a sigh you looked back on your phone. 

Y/N:

“Fine. I’ll get the silk one. But just because you picked it 😛”

You got dressed again and went to buy the garment. 

Once back at home, you took your time to look for hair and makeup inspiration to complete your look and be ready for Saturday. Marilyn and you had been texting back and forth all day, and she’d helped you pick the perfect hairstyle and makeup for the Rave’N.

You were nervous… of course you were, but there was this little glimmer of hope starting to take hold within you. Maybe Larissa really did like you.

—

You were waiting in front of the Weathervane for Marilyn to come and pick you up. 

Were you nervous? Absolutely! 

Were you excited? Definitely! 

But you couldn’t help and worry… worry about… you were actually not sure. Your nerves were getting the better of you and there was nothing that could be done against it. Not that you haven’t tried… you definitely did! You went through every trick in the book.

Breathing exercise? No effect.

Meditation? Nothing.

A tea? That just made you worried that you would spill it on your dress, so that wasn’t helping at all. 

So you just stood there… waiting.

“Hey! You good?” you suddenly heard someone call out to you and released a sigh. 

“Marilyn! Hey!” You smiled at your friend and got into the car, leaning over to give her a hug. 

“Not really… my nerves are taking over right now.” You groaned. 

“You’re just making yourself crazy over nothing! Relax! You’ll be fine!” she smirked and turned her gaze back onto the road, starting towards Nevermore. 

“You look amazing by the way!”

You chuckled and looked out of the window. You did look nice… it also took you forever to get ready. You had braided some hair along the sides of your head and pulled everything up into a fluffy space bun, which you decorated with some crystal pins. Your makeup was soft, in nude colours, with a soft peach lip and some sparkly eyeshadow on your eyelids. The dress fit perfectly and hugged every curve of your body, and you had found the perfect off-white heels in your closet. 

“Thank you! Wouldn’t have managed to pull this off without you!” You smile and look over at the redhead. Marilyn was grinning to herself.

“If you two hook up, I deserve to be invited to dinner by you!” Your shocked gasp caused her to laugh out loud.

“Oh come on! I know you want her… and to be quite honest…” She raised an eyebrow and glanced over at you with a mischievous smirk. “I think the feelings are mutual.”

The blush that spread on your face was all Marilyn needed to know she was right.

“You’ll see! She’ll be absolutely smitten with you looking like this.”

“We’ll see…” you reply, watching the scenery outside. 

Marilyn parked the car and ran around to open the door for you with a dramatic bow. 

“M’lady.” she chuckled, and you rolled your eyes amusedly as you got out of the car. 

“You’re an idiot!” 

The teacher smirked and moved to hold her arm out for you to hold. She led you into the building and guided you towards the great hall. 

You weren’t expecting to be swarmed by students the second you entered the ballroom. 

“Hi Y/N! What are you doing here?”

“You look gorgeous! Who invited you?”

“It’s so nice you’re back! Come! Let's go dance!”

“Do you want something to drink? I’ll get you some punch!”

You were being surrounded and swarmed by the students, and it warmed your heart to see how excited they were by your presence. Marilyn slipped away from you without you noticing, the second she realised someone was walking up to the newly formed commotion around your presence. You struggled answering all of their questions when suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder and the students grew quiet. 

“Now, now… dear y/n has just arrived, don’t crowd her like that. You’ll have enough time to have a chat with her tonight.” The smooth British voice echoed from behind you and a pleasant shudder ran down your spine. The students nodded and went back to their friends on the dance floor. You turned around to look up at the principal. 

Larissa couldn’t help but let her eyes roam over your figure. The dress you chose was absolutely exquisite, your makeup complimenting the simplicity of the outfit and your hair that just looked too soft. Vulgar thoughts flooding her mind as she finally caught your eyes. You were looking up at her with big doe eyes, so innocent and sweet. 

“Come in! Want something to drink?” she asked as she gently took your arm and led you into the ballroom. You couldn’t believe your eyes. Larissa looked… She was a goddess. Her hair was up like always but decorated with some intricate curls, her usual red lipstick a wonderful contrast to the silver dress she was wearing. Looking up at her, you saw her eyes scanning you, your heart skipping a beat. Her pupils dilated as she finally landed on your eyes, and you had to suppress a whimper. This woman will be the death of you. It took you a few seconds to register her question and notice her arm intertwined with yours. 

“I- yes… please!” you answered quietly, not being able to suppress the grin gracing your lips. 

Larissa handed you a glass of punch and took one herself. You stood at the edge of the dance floor with her, watching the kids having fun. 

You really wanted to dance with her, but didn’t know how to ask. Should you ask? What if she said no? What if she thought you were weird, and she only wanted to invite you for the kids’ sake? But… What if she said yes? What then? You didn’t know how to dance. Sure, you have visited your fair share of parties, but you didn’t think you were a good dancer. And what if you started dancing, and you didn’t do it right, and she would start laughing and-

“What's going on in that head of yours, darling?” Larissa’s soft voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up at her just to catch her already looking at you. Her eyes were soft, a hint of concern shimmering in them. She looked so… soft. You just wanted to pull her into an embrace, a kiss, soft and full of affection. Taking a breath in, you set your glass on a table then held your hand out to her.

“Would you like to dance, Larissa?” you asked, heart hammering in your chest as you saw her eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise. A sweet pink hue coloured her cheeks as she blinked at you a few times, registering what you just asked her. Larissa quickly placed her glass on the table next to yours and moved to put her hand into yours, looking up at you with a shy smile, nodding. 

“I would love to!” she said quietly, almost above a whisper. The bright smile that appeared on her face was enough to get her heart racing and head spinning. Your eyes were practically sparkling with glee, and it made her feel so fuzzy and warm inside. To have such happiness and excitement directed towards her was a privilege she’s never experienced before. You giddily pulled her onto the dance floor, not believing your luck. 

Marilyn was watching from the corner, watching as you pulled Larissa onto the dance floor. She smirked at the two of you, but something felt weird… the music!

A mischievous smirk graced her features as she waddled off to the DJ and asked him to play a slow and romantic song. The second the music changed, you and Larissa shot a look over at the DJ, seeing Marilyn standing there, innocently waving at the two of you. Oh, you were so going to get revenge on her for that. Your anxiety started kicking in again, but before you could start overthinking it you felt warm hands on your waist. Larissa was pulling you closer, and she just hoped you wouldn’t pull away. 

“Is this okay?” Her piercing blue orbs held steady eye contact with you, and you felt your face heat up. With a nod, you move to place your arms on her shoulders, hands close to her neck. She smiled and started swaying with you to the rhythm of the song. Seeing you so shy and flustered by her gave her the necessary courage to take a step closer. She leaned her head down to your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. 

“You look absolutely delectable tonight, my dear. Have you picked this outfit just for me?” Her hot breath on your skin caused you to bite your lip. You nodded.

“I was hoping you’d like it.” You replied quietly. Larissa tightened her grip on you, squeezing your waist gently, which caused a gasp to leave your lips. 

“Dressing up nicely just for me?” She husked, feeling herself getting more confident. Emboldened by the way your body… you reacted to her. 

“You’re such a good girl!” You could hear the smirk in her voice. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

“It’s a shame this dress will be laying somewhere scattered in my quarters after this ball is over.” 

You tightened your grip on her shoulders, pulling her closer. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. The tension was high, atmosphere thick with desire. You felt your knees tremble, ready to take whatever she was willing to give you. You pulled your head back a bit, just enough to look into her eyes, and what you saw almost made you whimper with anticipation. Her usually so pale blue eyes were dark, lustrous, her breathing heavier than usual and her lips were slightly parted. 

Before either of you could say or do anything, you felt something drip on your cheek. Confusedly, you blinked a few times, and Larissa eyed your cheek in concern.

The drips quickly multiplied, and soon you were showered in, what you believed to be, blood. Your eyes widened as you looked around, unable to move. Everything was getting soaked with this red liquid. What was happening?

Larissa was the first to move. She pulled away from you but grabbed your hand and quickly led you outside, the other staff helping the kids get out of the ballroom as well. Some fled into the courtyard and some into the school halls. There was a big commotion amongst the students, and you and Larissa immediately sprang into action, trying to calm the scared kids. Marilyn came running with a pile of blankets and towels to wrap around the sopping pupils. 

Whatever had happened, it was clearly meant as an attack of sorts. You were fuming.  Even after all the positive feedback you got for your report, there were still some bad apples in the normie bunch. If you ever caught who did that, they would surely regret pulling a stunt like that.

—

After the, you now knew it to be, red dyed water attack, you helped Larissa, Marilyn and the other employees to bring the kids inside and to their dorm rooms. After the last student was brought to their room, you stood in the foyer, watching Larissa talk to the Sheriff. You could tell she was agitated… mad. But yet she kept her composure, talked calmly and was respectful. A light bump against your shoulder alerted you to the presence of your friend.

“Hey… thanks for your help! You really didn’t have to, you know?” Marilyn smiled defeatedly at you, and you returned the smile. 

“It’s okay! I really didn’t mind… Just wished that this wouldn’t have happened… it’s not like they already have it hard enough and now that… I was really hoping that my report had a bigger impact but-”

“Don’t say that!” Marilyn interrupted, “Your article was eye-opening for so many people in town! It definitely helped! Big time! There’s just always gonna be a few assholes trying to ruin everything again.” She was clearly frustrated as well. You looked at her and chuckled, then shook your head. 

“I guess you’re right..” You sighed and rubbed the back of your neck. The two of you stood in silence for a while until Marilyn noticed you watching Larissa again and smirked. 

“Such a shame the two of you got interrupted! It almost seemed as if you were about to kiss.” She teased and your, admittedly already red, face started blushing furiously. You hit her arm lightly.

“Stop teasing!” You hissed, but Marilyn just laughed and nudged you again. 

“What are we laughing about?” You both turned your head towards the voice and saw the headmistress standing in front of you. One perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in curiosity. Marilyn just chuckled and smirked at you, then at Larissa. 

“Oh nothing important…” She took a deep breath and then clapped her hands together, “Well… I’ll be off… gotta get that red dye out of my hair somehow. Bye bye.” She waved at the two of you, leaving you alone with Larissa once more. She really had the audacity to leave you in situations like these every single time she had the opportunity to. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. Larissa watched Marilyn in confusion, then turned to you.

“Y/N… thank you for helping out with the students! I- am so sorry you had to experience this…” She sounded… sad, upset, worried? You looked up at her and saw her looking at you. 

“It’s quite alright! I’m just sad they had to experience that! It’s not fair… they’re good kids and I just don't get why anyone would want to harm them in any way…” You gave her a sad smile, then shyly reached out and grabbed her hand to squeeze it lightly. 

“But I did really enjoy dancing with you, Larissa…” she smiled back at you and squeezed your hand back. 

“As did I… uhm… would you like to come back to my quarters and get that paint washed off? Maybe have a glass of wine?” She was nervous. She was nervous and you could tell. The way her hand lightly trembled, and her eyes darted away from yours while asking. It filled your heart with that fuzzy warm feeling. You nodded and stepped to the side, still holding her hand. 

“Lead the way!”

—

In Larissa’s quarters, she quickly went into the bathroom, returning with a damp cloth and some makeup wipes in the hopes of getting the dye off your skin and hair. You managed to wipe the paint off your face without any issues, but it really stuck to your hair. Larissa went to quickly shower off the paint, and you couldn't help but think about her in the shower. Water streaming down that smooth alabaster skin. You wished you could have joined her. 

As Larissa got out of the shower, your breath got stuck in your throat. Her damp hair framed her face in gentle curls. She wasn’t wearing any makeup now, and you seriously didn’t think that this woman could get any more beautiful, but, alas, it seems you were mistaken. Before you stood a goddess in champagne coloured silk pyjamas. 

Larissa blushed lightly and smiled at you as she saw you staring. She walked up to you and gently examined your hair, your nostrils filling with the scent of her shampoo by the close proximity of her. 

“Seems the dye really stuck to your hair… here.” She handed you a fresh towel and some spare pyjamas. 

“You can take a shower if you want to!” She added quietly. You smiled back at her and nodded, taking the items in your hands. 

“Thank you! I’ll… uhm… I’ll be right back” You stammered out and quickly made your way to the bathroom. It was luxurious, like the rest of her quarters. You weren't surprised that she handed you the probably softest towel ever and the most luxurious pyjama you ever had the honour of wearing. This woman had an immaculate taste, and it was evident in every aspect of her life. 

After your quick shower, you tossed the towel into the laundry hamper in the corner of the room and walked out, your dress in your hands. That was definitely ruined now.

You entered the living room again and saw Larissa sitting on her couch in front of the fireplace, two glasses and a bottle of wine on the small table in front of it. You put your dress in your bag and sat next to her. She looked over and smiled softly, handing you a glass of wine, which you took gratefully. 

“Thank you! And thanks that I got to use your shower and… borrow some clothes! I really appreciate it.” You smiled at her and took a sip of the wine. Holy mother of god… of course, the wine was absolutely spectacular. Larissa smiled. 

“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I could do.. Plus, I do have to admit I like how my Pyjamas look on you.” She smirked and took a sip of her wine. Larissa eyed you as you just looked at her with wide eyes and a bashful look on your face. You sat the glass down and turned to look at her, clearly gathering your courage to say whatever was on your mind. She thought you looked adorable like that. However, what came out of your mouth next was not something she’d expected to hear. 

“It’s truly a shame that you didn’t get to take my dress off and discard it somewhere in your room…” You smirked at her smugly, but before you could continue your teasing, she had you already pressed against the cushion of the couch. Looking at her, you saw her eyes were full of lust, full of hunger. She gently lifted your head with her finger under your chin, forcing you to keep eye contact as she gently pressed her knee between your legs. You inhale sharply and look at her, lust evident in your gaze. 

“If you want me, all you have to do is say it.” She husked, ghosting her lips over yours. Larissa loved the way you trembled underneath her, but every time you tried to close the gap, she would pull away. 

“You have to say it, darling,” she whispered. You were getting restless, a needy whine escaping you. 

“Please Larissa…” You whimper and look at her with your best puppy eyes. 

“Please what, darling?”

“Please… I need you… I want you,” you breathe out. The heat began to build, and you could already feel that you were soaked. Larissa grinned down at you. 

“Good girl!” 

You didn’t have time to react as Larissa finally closed the gap, pulling you into a bruising kiss. It was so full of need and lust. Your lips moved against hers in perfect harmony. Wrapping your arms around her, you pulled her close. 

The kiss quickly grew hot, passionate. Larissa bit your lower lip, causing you to gasp and giving her the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss. She explored your mouth with her tongue, leaving you in a state of dizzying bliss. Her skilled tongue fought with yours for dominance, kissing you with such fervour that both of you almost ran out of breath. 

You pulled apart just quickly to catch your breaths before Larissa attacked your neck with hot open-mouthed kisses. Trailing her tongue over your pulse point, then latching on to it and sucking hard. Your back arched into her, head tilting to the side to give her better access. 

The aching between your legs became almost unbearable. You wrapped one of your legs around her hips, pulling her closer, but Larissa gently pulled away, causing a pathetic whine to escape. 

“Patience darling!” She husked as she sat up and swiftly picked you up, carrying you to her bedroom and dropping you on the bed. The second you laid there, she was already on you again, her lips continuing their assault on your neck. Larissa moved to slowly unbutton the pyjama shirt you were wearing, but you were too impatient. With a swift motion, you helped her unbutton the rest of the shirt and pulled it off of your body, leaving you with a bare chest. Larissa chuckled darkly. 

“Impatient are we?” she roamed her hands over your soft stomach, cupping one of your breasts. Dipping her head down again, she moved to the other breast and took your hardened nipple in her mouth, teasing it with her teeth and tongue. You moved your hands in her hair, pulling gently at the sensation she was rewarding you with. Larissa moaned against your breast as a reaction which caused you to buck your hips up. You were so desperate for her, and it was so pathetic, but you didn’t care. All you could feel, small, taste, hear, was her. And you needed more.

“Rissa please,” you groaned as you felt her lips travel towards the hem of the pyjama trousers. 

“Need you,” you breathed out. Looking down, you saw her smirk up at you. As she pulled away again you were about to protest but seeing her take her blouse off silenced you immediately. You sat up, reaching out to her and running your fingertips over her body, watching goosebumps spreading over her skin. You cupped her breasts and massaged them, teasing her nipples with your fingers as you leaned in to kiss her. 

Larissa melted into your touch and kiss. Quiet sighs and moans leaving her lips as she laid you back down. 

“I need to taste you darling,” she whispered between kisses, and you whimpered in response, nodding gently. 

“Please! Please…” 

Larissa kissed her way down your body again, pulling the trousers down as she moved her kisses down your legs. She threw the trousers somewhere into the dark of the room, then moved her hands to your knees, spreading your legs gently. She groaned at the sight of a wet spot on your white lace underwear. The blonde looked up at you, watching your reaction as she ran her thumb over the wet spot, pressing down on it gently. Your back arched off the bed and your mouth opened in a quiet moan. 

“P- please Rissa… need you so bad,” you whimpered, rolling your hips against her thumb, needing more friction. In any other situation Larissa would have loved to tease you more, but she was just as desperate to taste you as you were to feel her tongue on you. So without further pause, she swiftly pulled your thong down your legs. She almost moaned at the sight of your glistening cunt in front of her. 

“All of this because of me?” she groaned and moved to kiss the inside of your thigh as you nodded. 

“You’re such a good girl, y/n.'' Larissa couldn't hold back any more. She had to taste you. The smell of your arousal made her mouth water and her head dizzy. The second her tongue made contact with your wet and hot cunt, the breath got stuck in your throat and Larissa let out one of the most vulgar moans you’ve ever heard, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. 

Larissa wasted no time in eating you out. Her tongue danced around your clit before she captured it between her lips and sucked. You moaned out loud, her name falling off your lips like a prayer. The way she used her mouth on you made you feel ecstatic, you felt like you were on cloud nine. The world, every responsibility you had, everything that has ever bothered or hurt you, everything that has been on your mind and stressing you out lately was just gone. 

Larissa never slowed her ministrations on you, listening to your cues, noticing how your body reacted to certain things. She loved how easily your body reacted to her. It's like you were made to be pleased by her. 

“R-issa… need more..” you gasped out between moans. You needed more of her, needed her in you. Larissa smirked and ran her tongue over the length of your slit one last time before rubbing two of her fingers against your entrance gently, coating it with your slick. You were so desperate to feel her fill you up, your hips rolling against her, motioning for her to stop teasing you. She easily slipped one finger in as soon as she thought they were wet enough. You let out a low moan and moved against her as she started pumping her finger in and out slowly. After a while, she pushed a second finger in and watched you grip the sheets. 

“You take me so well, my love.” She praised and moved kisses up your body as she picked up speed with her fingers. Larissa managed to hit spots no one ever had, curling her fingers against that soft, spongy spot that made you see stars. Your walls clenched around her fingers, and you felt the coil tighten in your abdomen. 

“M’close… Riss-ah” your moans only spurred her on more. She wanted to hear you, she wanted to see you come undone, she wanted to hear her name on your lips over and over and over again. Larissa picked up her pace again, using her thumb to rub small circles over your sensitive clit. The coil in your abdomen was about to snap, and she felt it. 

“That's it! Cum for me, y/n. Let me hear you,” she husked into your ear as she nibbled on your earlobe. That was all you needed for the coil to snap. Your legs and arms wrapped around her, needing her impossibly close as you came on her hand with a cry of her name. Larissa was gentle. She helped you ride out your orgasm and then very carefully pulled her fingers out. Your limbs went weak and dropped from her. You lay on the bed, breathing heavily and exhausted. You felt a shift on the bed but didn't have the strength to open your eyes. A few minutes later you felt the mattress dip again then felt a soft, damp and warm sensation between your legs. Larissa had gotten some towels to help clean you up. She used the damp one to clean between your legs and used a dry one to dab the sweat off your face. 

A soft smile spread over your lips as the blonde returned the towels, then came back and laid in bed next to you. Pulling her closer, you started to press soft sleepy kisses to her chin and neck, but she stopped you gently. You looked up at her with a pout, and she kissed your forehead gently. 

“Rest!” She whispered and pulled you close. You frowned at her. 

“But I want to make you feel good too,” you whispered back and held tightly onto her. She just shook her head, a content and also sleepy smile gracing her features. 

“You can. Tomorrow! We have all day to ourselves tomorrow,” she replied and stroked your cheek gently, looking into your eyes lovingly. You smiled and nodded, snuggling into her embrace, you let out a quiet and content sigh. This felt right. This felt like home. 

“Good Night Rissa.” 

“Good Night y/n.”

-------

I hope you liked it <3 Comments are greatly appreciated :3

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 9: His angel girl

genre: comfort, smut (minor do not interact!!)

word count: 5902

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: you two take a step into getting back to normal... or at least trying.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

would like to welcome all the new readers and to dedicate this chapter to the beautiful @starofthedawn who's been reading and commenting on my chapters since the beginning <3 thank you for your undying support love! means the world!

“Happy Monday!” 

You want to shoot her in the head. You want to turn around, grab Officer Kaper’s gun from his holster, and shoot her in the head, and you want to stop wanting to shoot her in the head. For someone who probably had the most magical Sunday of her life, you are not in such great mood once the consequences of sleeping a total of two hours sets in. Spencer deals with it much better than you, and you wince just remembering how snippy you were when he woke you up with the same kisses that had you moaning just hours ago. Lucky for you, though, he only laughs and pushes a full mug of coffee your way. Spencer knows you well despite the little time you two have been living together. But then again, if he really tries, Spencer would know anyone well. 

“Ah, happy Monday,” You say, shooting Officer Kaper a look that has him snorting. “Did you have any questions about the starter email? Sorry it wasn’t super in depth, it’s my first time hiring someone to help me.”

“That is absolutely okay, I’m sure I can learn a lot from you today!” 

It should be exciting, finally having the store open full time and with help to keep it functioning, but you’re just so exhausted that you can’t find it in you to be your usual cheery self. Not when just hours ago, you were feeling like you had endless energy, charging through Spencer’s touches. 

After JJ left his apartment, quite begrudgingly, you must admit, you two finally have some time to breathe. It sounds cliche, really, cheering for the moments you two can be together without an audience, but lately, there has been so few of them that it’s almost impossible to not turn selfish when they come about. And my god, are you selfish then… Spencer can’t move to the kitchen without you following him. But to your credit, he doesn’t seem to be all that comfortable with moving away from you either, and that is how you two end up in his room, digging through his mismatched socks drawer with so much gusto that it might just look like you found the long lost treasure of Atlantis. 

“You have no matching socks!” You giggle, shivering a little when you feel his presence behind you. His breath hits your nape, and Spencer drops a gentle kiss there. “Sweetheart, do I need to buy you socks?” 

“No,” He mumbles and just by the tone of his voice you know he’s distracted with dragging his lips through your neck, biting, kissing, grazing. Spencer is having his own fun with you, one that has nothing to do with the fact that your feet are freezing and his heater seems to be giving up on getting his apartment at a liveable temperature. When you ask him to look into it, he chuckles and tells you that he can fix it, that he will fix it. This, however, doesn’t look like he’s fixing it. “But you can keep calling me sweetheart.” 

Cocking your head to the side, giving him more space to work his magic. Something inside of you keens at the way he grabs at your waist, pulling you closer and keeping you there with a demanding attitude that is new and welcome, and you wonder if this has anything to do with how he finally spoke out. Taking control of a situation is always somewhat of a thrill, and you think Spencer is basking in his newfound confidence by pushing it a little further.

Not that you are complaining. Much to the contrary– a sharp exhale leaves your lips the moment he brushes those teasing lips on the junction of your neck and your shoulder, and you can feel the way he smirks, doing it again just to draw a whine out of you. “Spence,” Your voice goes all high pitched with the way he adds pressure with each kiss, the way his hands slide from holding you by the waist to encircling you completely. “Spence, what are you doing?” 

His chuckle sends another wave of shudders through you. “I’m not letting anyone take you away from me,” He whispers back, taking one step, then another, and another, until your knees push against the edge of his mattress and his kissed turn into light suckles travelling all around. At this point, you get yourself ready for the bruises you can feel blooming on your skin. “I’m never letting anyone take you away from me, I promise, angel. My angel girl…”

One day, when you think back to this moment, you’ll blame the ‘my angel girl’ for the way you so quickly clambered up to bed, hands grabbing him by that tie he insists on wearing even inside the house and tugging him down with a force you’ll probably never be able to conjure ever again. You’ll blame the ‘pretty girl’ and the ‘my Y/N’. You’ll blame the way his eyes plead, oh so quietly but never subtly, for you to get closer, to kiss him harder. You’ll blame him and his pretty lips, his pretty skin, his pretty legs. 

Everything about his is pretty, and you can’t help the excitement growing in you with each button undone. Oh, the amount of times you’ve dreamt of unbuttoning these shirts he religiously wears, uncovering inch of skin by inch of skin, dropping a kiss in every new bit of him that you get to see. Spencer is not as quiet as you thought he’d be– he rambles, and pants, and moans, and you smile because you know you’re the one dragging these sinful noises out of him, and you know that this show is all for you and you only. Spencer is not far behind though, and his hands are as equally busy– they pull, tug, rip, unzip; they do all they can until you’re left in your mismatched underwear and him, only in his boxer briefs. For some odd reason, you’re slightly disappointed that his tight underwear, outlining those beautiful thighs of his, are not purple. 

It’s cute, how his cheeks blush when his eyes land on your breasts, even if they seem stuck there for a while. “Spence,” You whisper, hand raising to caress his cheek. You are blushed yourself, redness going down your neck and chest, but you don’t mind it much, not when he seems to follow down the path of shyness you’ve created like it was the map to heaven. “Spence, is… is this okay?” 

“So much more than okay,” Spencer whispers back, face turning gently to kiss the palm of your hand cupping his cheek. “Is this okay for you?”

“So much more than okay,” You agree, smiling wide and pulling him down for another ravenous kiss. Like an instinct, your legs move to wrap around his waist, squeezing until every bit of him presses against every bit of you. 

And then you feel him, hot and heavy, and you exhale a sharp breath that has him jumping, trying to put some distance between you two as if he had somehow hurt you. “Are you okay?! Are you–“ You shut him up effectively with one more pull by the legs, hips dragging your heart against him and having him exhale as sharp as you. 

Raising your brow in a silent challenge, you mutter, “Are you okay?” With every word your lips brush against his and for once, in a long, long time, you feel good about yourself. You feel powerful, in command… sexy. The last time a man looked at you the way Spencer is looking at you had been years ago, and it hadn’t even been Josh. Josh never looked at you like that, like you could solve all his issues and pains with just one kiss, no, no; Josh looked at you like a challenge. A task. An objective. You never want to be looked at like that ever again. 

No. For the rest of your life, all you want is for Spencer to look at you like he’s doing right now. Specifically him, because if it’s not coming from those melting, honey eyes, you don’t want it. “Oh,” You breathe out, too lost in your head to have felt his hand moving upwards from your waist to sneak under your bra, nimble fingers squeezing it in an experimenting feel. From the way he bends down to kiss you, other hand rushing to unclasp the garment and throw it somewhere in the room, it must feel really fucking good. He takes it to a whole other level, though, when his lips– those lips you adore so much, that you spent hours watching move and talk and lecture– wrap around a perk nipple. “Oh, Spence…”

Sex is incredibly intimate for you. Is an act of giving and taking and giving back, and it’s a constant exchange that leaves you floating, on good times; on bad ones, it makes you feel as heavy as a rock. Just from his kisses alone you already feel weightless, so you know that from now on, there is only great things coming. Great things like how he grinds his hips down on you, catching onto your most sensitive spot again and again and again, and you’re not sure when was it that you desperately pulled his boxers down, but when you come back to yourself, climbing down from the building pleasure of having Spencer humping you like an uncontrolled teenager, you have him stark naked… and you’ll dream of this for the rest of your life. 

Naked Spencer is not the most confident, but he’s not coy about it either. In all fairness, you don’t think his brain, usually brilliant and expansive and now working in a one-track mind, is able to juggle a lot at the moment, and you chuckle at how awkwardly endearing he looks. One hand moves to push his hair our of his face, basking into the way he smiles at you, so brightly and larger than life. “You’re beautiful,” You whisper, forehead resting against his. “So beautiful…” 

“I’m afraid that would be you, darling angel,” Spencer kisses you quickly rubbing his hands on your arms, your back. “So pretty for me… all mine.” 

“All yours,” You agree, arching into his touch. It’s not possessiveness that you catch in his voice, but desperation. Fear. Need. Spencer is not dominating you, he’s not taking and taking and taking; he’s simply going along with a pace that is set by the both of you. You two are like water, moulding to each other, soft yet strong. No one has more power than the other, and no one commends nor obeys. This is a collaboration of two weirdly shy people trying to push past their natural hesitations to make something beautiful. 

Your hand slides down his chest, between your bodies, and grabs a hold of his cock. For a man that despised touch, Spence let out an eager groan, pushing his hips up towards your touch, and you whine. You want to be touched too, and he catches on instantly. Your sweet profiler, reading you even when his eyes could barely focus on yours. “So good,” He said, clumsy mouth trying to kiss yours while speaking. “So fucking good.” 

Just when you thought it couldn’t get better, Spencer curses, the word so foreign to him that you can’t help the rush of excitement that runs through you right there and then. Spencer knows, too, with how he gently slides his hand under your panties, finger diving into your wetness shamelessly. “So fucking good.”

There is not embarrassment in how loudly the sounds your body makes echoes in the room. Mixed with both your breathing, your moans, and the way your skin hits so perfectly, the sound of your eagerness is just another instrument in the symphony of you guys’ pleasure. “Spence, come on,” You whine again.

When you try to push your underwear down your legs, Spence gently slaps your hand away, tutting at you with a glint of mischievousness. Instead, he hooks his own fingers on the sides of it and makes a point of dragging it down as slow as possible. By the time he has your legs up in the air and finally gets it off of you, you are wiggling in place. “Stay still,” He gently admonishes you, nipping at your ankle that rests on his shoulder. It’s almost like Spencer is adamant on killing you slowly, keeping you teetering at the edge of a precipice created by him and him only. It’s up to him to push you over. Safe to say, with the way his lips slowly move from you ankle, down your legs, inching closer and closer to where you want him the most, you are as good as dead already, now it was all about enjoying the ride. “I want to make sure I commit this to memory.” 

“Y-You have an eidetic memory, S-Spencer– oh my god,” Your voice wobbles a little at the first touch of his mouth to your folds. Despite your… occasional dirty dream of Spencer, you had no expectations for this at all. After your conversation with Penelope, it was obvious that your beautiful nerd hadn’t had the most common teenage-hood. He had never experienced those marks of growing up– had never made out under a bleacher, never passed notes to his friends during class, never put a sock on the door of his dorm. Besides Lila and Maeve, you know nothing about his past relationships, and you found Lila’s name because of an article that leaked a photo of them kissing on a pool. Sure, you weren’t all that glad to now have the picture of Spencer kissing someone else ingrained in your brain, but it made you happy to know he had people appreciating him for all he is, before you. 

So safe to say it surprises you to know that Spencer knows how to use his mouth, and knows it well. Part of you wants to look at him, watch him eat you out like the starved man he apparently is and try, your damned hardest, to never forget it. Unlike him, you’re but a mere human that, at the moment, is so lost in pleasure that you’re not even sure if you remember your name. Doesn’t take long to have you shaking in his hands, legs trembling around his head and hips pinned down by his hands. “Let go,” Spencer whispers, opening his eyes just for a second, just to catch a glimpse of your face as he licks you whole, just right until he’s able to wrap those lips– those sinful lips– around your clit. That is your undoing, and before you can even warn him, your thighs snap closed around his head and you cum, moaning Spencer’s name like he is the prayer that will keep you alive. 

“Hmmm,” He brings you back to life with the soft little trail of kisses he drops on his way back up. In his tongue there are traces of you, of your taste, of your soul, and you are addicted with well it mixes with him. “You truly are sweet, angel.” 

“And tomorrow, I’ll figure out how sweet you are,” It’s a promise and one that you full intend to keep, though right now you truly think you will go insane if you don’t feel him like how you’ve been yearning to all night. “But right now, I really need you to–“

“To what?” He asks when your voice dies down, suffocated by the sudden feel of his cock rubbing against you just right. “Hm? What do you need, angel girl? Tell me and I’ll do anything for you…” 

Seeing Spencer so lost in pleasure is something new. His hair looks wild and his eyes are hungry and curious, focused on you and you only. He catches every reaction, every little twitch of your hips, every breathy whine; Spencer memorises everything. This will be stored in a little box inside his head, for those nights alone in strange hotel rooms in even stranger cities. For the afternoons with too little work and too many insecurities clouding his head. For the mornings when you leave before him and he can’t make you whine his name like you’re doing right now. His name… my god, his name is all he wants to hear coming out of your mouth; his name and those little gasps that send jolts of electricity up and down his spine. When you look up at him, arms going around his shoulder to pull him down for a kiss Spencer is smiling. It’s bright and wide and true and you think– no, no you know– and you know you’re falling in love with this man. 

You hike a leg up his waist, brushing yourself all over him, and you smile back. It doesn’t last long, though, because Spencer chooses that moment to push inside of you, biting your shoulder in a failed attempt to hide the guttural groan rising up his throat. “Holy shit,” You mumble, eyes threatening to close. This is all very overwhelming– in the best way possible, surely, but still overwhelming. There is the sting of stretching grounding you, but it quickly dissolves into a pleasurable burn and you are sure you’re experiencing the best of both worlds, floating in an in-between space midway to heaven from Earth. 

Ever since Cat found out your name, you’ve been living in fear. Every day, every night, you can feel the thrumming of anxiety running through your veins– sometimes stronger, like your heart is about to beat itself out of your throat, and sometimes weaker, more of a hum in the back of your ribs; but it’s always there. 

Except for now. 

Right now, you feel nothing. 

You are drowning in a world of silence, in a motionless state of being… 

…until Spencer snaps his hips at you again and you feel more than you’ve felt your entire life. 

You feel alive.

On fire. 

Burning. 

Like every nerve in your body has been ignited, like your brain is working overtime, like the air in your lugs have been punched out of your body. 

You feel so much that you can’t even begin to put into words. But you don’t have to speak, not when Spencer whispers those sweet nothings into your ear as if he’s not filthily moving his hips and driving himself so deep into you you basically see start. “So pretty, my angel,” He whines, mouthing at your neck. “So good for me, feels so good, pretty girl. So perfect.” In his words, promises lay unsaid. Promises of love, adoration, fondness. Promises of kindness, gentleness, safety. “I got you, Y/N, I got you. I promise.” 

Nodding, you let your nails drag down his back, the sounds of it all getting a bit too much for you to handle. Spencer’s hoarse voice, the slap of his skin on yours, the breathy moans he lets out; everything seems to be getting to you, and you hope this never ends. You hope to feel like this for the rest of your life, like you don’t have to have a single worry in life, because Spencer’s got you. 

“Spencer,” You cry out, pulling him for a sloppy kiss. You two are a mess of tongues and teeth and lips and the more he fills you up, the more he pushes into the you, the more you’re willing to fall, fall, fall… and you so you fall. “Oh! Spencer!” 

Your orgasm washes over you like a crashing wave, approaching fast and silently but crashing loudly once it hits shore. It’s a surprise to you and apparently to him too, from how he groans the loudest he has so far. You tense up for a second or two or three or maybe even an eternity, squeezing around him oh so perfectly, enough to make him falter, arms giving out and almost having his whole body crash onto you. In his own desperation to cum, Spencer speeds up in such a delicious way that it feels like you’re in a never ending downward spiral, pussy fluttering around him until he pushes into you one last time. “Y/N…” Spencer moaned, keeping himself quiet with how hard he bites your neck, tensing as he let his pleasure wash over him in jerky movements of his hips before completely stopping.

Slowly but surely, he pulls out of you, laying by your side looking completely spent with a lingering hand on your waist. Takes him a bit, but eventually, Spencer gathers enough strength to pull you to him, kissing your forehead lovingly. “You’re… everything,” He breathes out, eyes running over your face to commit it to memory, to engrave it in a type of forever that only he knows. His own forever. You are his very own forever.  “Is it too corny to say thank you?” 

You laugh and look up at him. “Depends,” Cuddling closer, you let your lips graze over his ear. “Are you thanking me for a job well done?”

“Hmmm,” His chuckle reverberates through you. “A job very well done, sweetheart, yes.” 

“Then no, it’s not corny,” You giggle, trowing a leg over his waist. “But as an academic, I don’t think your sample is large enough to be reaching any conclusions yet, doctor.”

“Oh, no, no, I’m not concluding anything yet,” Spencer shivers a little at your teasing joke, eyes darkening in a way that is surely becoming familiar to your. His little smile is enough to have you pushing yourself closer to him, kissing his neck gently. “I am making an inference. An inference is an educated guess, and based on that, I form a hypothesis.”

“And what’s your hypothesis here, doc?” 

Clearing his throat, Spencer lets out a breathy hum and tugs you on top of him, thighs on each side of his waist so he can run his hands up and down your beautiful skin. “I think I need a bit more… education first, if you don’t mind.” 

“Oh?” Cocking your head to the side, you smile brightly at him. “And how will you embark in this search for knowledge?” 

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll show you how, angel girl.” 

In ten minutes he was kissing you all over again, muttering your name like a mantra. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N-

“Y/N?”

Your head snaps up to look at Abigail again, cheeks blushing when you realise where your mind had just gone. “Yes? Sorry Abi, what did you say?” 

“We have a consumer, could you help me with the cashier system?” And when Abigail smiles, you’re back to your sour mood. Honestly, you feel for her– you feel like a massive bitch who hates on a girl for absolutely no reason, but considering everything that’s been happening, her enthusiasm sending you for a loop.

“Of course!” Doesn’t mean you won’t still try and be a good boss. This is, after all, a place of business. Walking to her, you guide your new store manager through everything she needs to know; the cashier system, the ordering and cataloguing inventory, the filing system on the shelves. Much to your dismay, Abigail is a quick learner and she’s eager to help, jumping into the action as soon as a client walks into the store. You’re quite grateful for that, now having time to actually focus on the administrative tasks you’ve been putting away for ages, and when the time comes to close the store, you look at her with the friendliest smile you can handle under the current exhaustion and soreness that took over your body overnight. “You did great,” You promise, locking the door behind you. “Honestly, I could already work that much better with you handling everything, thank you very much.” 

“It was my pleasure!” Abigail smiled. “Will I be given a key for the days you’re not coming in?” 

You didn’t think that far, but the thought made you shift a bit uncomfortably. Giving her entrance to the bookstore so freely means you’re giving her entrance to your apartment just upstairs. And besides Officer Kaper and the BAU team, no one knows where you live. The goal is to keep it that way. “We can cross that bridge when we get to it, for a while I intend on coming in every day to make sure your introduction to the store is smooth and seamless!”

“Sounds perfect!” When you finish locking the door, you turn around to find her waiting with an expectant expression. “I uh, I don’t mean to bother you boss, but how about some drinks to celebrate the first day? You can come over now that I’m fully decorated!”

The invite is kind, and as much as you really want to go home and kiss your boyfriend silly, you can’t. You can’t tell her no, not again and again and again, and to your surprise, and hers, you nod. “Yeah, why not? You deserve it. Should I stop at the store to buy anything?” 

Quickly shaking her head, Abigail starts guiding you both back to the building calling your name. At least she lived a total of one floor away from Spencer. “No, no, I have everything back home to make some mojitos.” 

“Then we’ll order some pizza,” You chuckle, following her inside and up the stairs. “On me!” 

“Deal!” 

Her apartment is strangely familiar. It looks a lot like Spencer’s, though you can’t help but miss the muted shade of green that adorn his walls, surrounded by a bright pit of white instead. Everything about her place screams single female; the neutral furniture, the romance books piling by the sides of the couch, the quirky decorations that bring some type of colour to the room, and the obvious excessive amount of throw pillows everywhere. “Sorry for the mess,” Abigail chuckles, closing the door behind you and immediately trying to organise the living room. But you see the charm in how it is, and you don’t really mind being in a house that looks like someone lives in. 

“Don’t worry about me,” You wave at her. “I like being in a house that feels like a home.” 

“Have you ever considered being a writer?” The question makes you laugh. “Sometimes you say some very poetic things and I swear they would sound great in a book.” 

“I’m happy selling other people’s books,” Is all you give her, shrugging at her suspicious glance. “So… Pizza?” 

You don’t want to admit it, but at one point, you start having fun. It’s right after the awkward talking time and just as the pizza arrives that you two start laughing together, giggling at crazy stories from her old jobs. For a moment, this feels right– feels like what a girl’s night should feel like, with the gossiping, the drinks, the greasy food, and the shitty romance movie playing in the background without you paying attention to it, besides a couple of comments on how Jude Law is so cute. “…And then he wrote his number on the receipt and gave it to me! The audacity!”

Abigail has just finished telling you the story of how she met her ex and you chuckle, shaking your head. “Honestly, I lucked out with my customers. You’ll see that soon, but so far, everyone’s been incredible. I had some horror stories from the stores I worked at back in Manhattan, but thankfully they haven’t followed me here.” 

“Hmm,” Abigail is sitting in front of you, happily munching on her food while she squints at you. “Is that how you met Spencer Reid?”

You choke on a bite of crust and the way you have to wash it down with your mojito is ridiculous. The alcohol burns through your throat but at least you can breathe better. “Uh, Spence?”

“Yeah, Spencer Reid,” Abigail chuckles. “The neighbour upstairs. Your… something. Is he your boyfriend? You never really clarified.” 

Blushing, you nod. “Yeah, that’s my boyfriend,” Saying those words out loud feels surreal, like you have suddenly added a seal of authentication to it all. “We’ve been– We are dating.” 

“Oh,” This is the least enthusiastic you’ve seen her all night, and something tickles your brain. Is she disappointed that you two are officially dating? Is she into Spencer?! “Good to know. Uh, did you meet him at the store?” 

“Yeah,” The mood quickly turns upside down and tension settles where laughter previously occupied. “We’ve been friends for a while, though, and I uh, I used to watch his apartment while he was out of town for work and he’d bring me books and–“

“Is he out of town a lot?” This. This is exactly why you always feel weird next to Abigail– her invasive questions. “For work, that is.” 

“I–“ What are you supposed to say to that? Yes. He travels regularly and I’m constantly vulnerable and alone at his apartment? Absolutely not. “I mean, sometimes, but he can take cases from home.” 

“Cases? What does he do again?” 

“Oh,” You need to change the subject right now. “Spencer, he uh, he works with–“ 

You are not sure why you don’t want to tell her the truth, but you and Spencer had never discussed a story, a cover up; but then again, you two had never discussed being separated. A certain level of codependency has instilled thanks to the current situation, and it just makes sense to assume you’d always be together in social situations. 

“Because Officer Kaper also knows him, right? He said something back at the store, and I was curious.” 

Curiosity might have killed the cat, but Abigail is the one who will kill you. Cat knows Spencer works for the BAU, why would her partner be kept in the dark? Logically, nothing about this makes sense, and you might be overthinking and overreacting, but telling her about Spencer’s private life still feels wrong. Dirty. Like you’re breaking his trust just with a couple of words. 

Gulping, you nod, looking around with a nervous chuckle. “He uh, he works in a governmental agency,” Taking a deep breath, you think of semantics, of words that mean the same thing but can be as vague and open-ended as possible. “Some team I forgot the name. You know how those things are, you can be as close as possible with someone and still not be able to tell what they do for a living.” 

Her laughter is enough to have you breathing easier. “Oh my god! I so know what you mean… but when you really like someone, I think you remember the little things you know. Or at least I do. I still remember that book you mentioned on our first interview–“ Shuffling to grab something behind her, she shows you the cover of the book you mentioned a while back. “I’m halfway through and it’s absolutely incredible!” 

Holding back the impetuous Spencer remembers everything that you so badly want to throw at her, you just chuckle. With every word Abigail speaks, it feels like she’s throwing a dig at either Spencer or your relationship with Spencer, and you’re not sure which one makes you angrier. “I’m glad you like it,” You say, and the buzz of your phone saves the day. It’s been buzzing for a bit, but you didn’t mind checking it much while you were having fun. Now that things have gone a tad south, you can’t wait to come up with an excuse to go home. “Sorry, let me just– oh… Abi, I’m sorry, but I think I need to go home.” 

3 missed calls. 8 new messages. All from Spencer. Quickly helping her clean everything, you smiled. If this is going to work, you need to put in as much effort as Abigail is. You need to stop being afraid. You need to be honest with her. You need to do a lot… but not tonight. Tonight you’ve done enough. 

“Thank you again for having me, this was actually fun,” You smile, giving her a quick hug before opening the door and stepping out onto the hallway. “We can go to work together tomorrow, if you want! Text me when you’re about to leave?”

“Oh!” That is enough to have her smiling wide. “Yes! Amazing, I will!” 

One last wave and you’re running up the stairs, unlocking Apartment 23 with the key Spence gave you. “I’m so sorry!” You call out as soon as you’re inside, bag and shoes dropped by the door as soon as you spot him sitting on his couch. “Spence, I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you I was hanging out with Abigail after work and she made mojitos and we got pizza and–“

“Hey, hey hey hey, it’s okay, it’s alright,” Getting up, he walks to you and cups your cheeks, eyes searching for… something… in yours. “You’re okay?” 

“I’m okay. Better now, but okay,” You mumble back, kissing his lips gently as a reassurance. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you I was going to Abigail’s.” 

“You should’ve,” Spencer sighs, nodding with a small smile. “I was really worried… But then I called Garcia and she pulled the cameras, so I knew you were downstairs.” 

“Uh… Babe, I don’t know if that’s the best use of–“

“I don’t care, I was going out of my mind,” His arms squeeze you closer and he hides his face on your neck. “I know you can’t be here 24/7, and we talked about you going back to work, but… but let’s try and let each other know where we are more often? Just while this Cat thing is not solved, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You agree. Your lips press against his forehead lovingly. “Yeah, I’ll do better.” 

“Thank you, angel. Did you have fun?” 

“I did, for a while. But then Abigail started asking some… personal questions and I just– it sets me off, I don’t know why,” You are clearly frustrated with yourself, sighing and letting your body fall on the couch. In a beat, your arms open for him, inviting Spence to lay with you for a moment. “She asked where you work. I said a ‘governmental agency’ and I don’t know why I feel like I need to hide you from strangers, like she’s going to try and do something to you if she finds out details about your life.” 

When he lays down, you curl into him. “You’re protecting me, and that is really cute,” Spencer clarifies. “Maybe she’s just desperate for a friend, you know? I certainly have been there before, it can make you lose a bit of that common sense that should kick in and hold you back from putting your foot in your mouth, or any other idiot expression people use.” 

“Could be,” Truth be told, you don’t want to talk about Abigail anymore. You don’t want to think about Abigail, you don’t want to think about Cat, you don’t want to think about anyone but Spencer. 

You want to bask in your silence. In you quietude. 

You want to feel normal again. 

This feels normal again. 

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you today.” 

Yeah… when he giggles; when he kisses your cheek, your neck, your shoulder; when he mumbles excitedly about his day… it all feels normal. 

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

Taglist:

@fanfic-viewer

@mysticpeachobject

@donttrustlove  

@r-3dlips 

@lolitsbuckybarnes 

@lilrios-world 

@iniyalovesall 

@beabfleab

@dojacatismywife 

@queenofshinigamis

@beersangel

@catchthewindd

@charismatic-writer

@freaky-dcaky

@scarlettoh

@drreidslove

@spicyytomatoyay

@kitty-kei

@sapphirecobalt-1

@jebesovovise

@cultish-corner

@areiofhope

@candid-confetti

@godilovetoomuch

@redros3y 

@gibson-g1rl

@bunnylov-3-r

@yokaimoon 

@glorioussunrise13

@idkimheretoreadonethibgofpsencdd

@pleasantwitchgarden

@issy25

@ilovechanyeol16

@gghostwriter

@stanswifties

@chicaconfundidaycuriosa

@dragon03138

@tbsloneely

@bloodredrubyrose

@rossemayme

@jackchampiongf13

@prentissmybeloved

@danielle-munya

@eliscannotdance

@keira-fitzsimmons

@jamieeboulos

@starofthedawn

@alikpo

@writingforoursouls

@marauder--harder

@spencers-love

@marauder--harder

@floverisland

@amirightoramirightt 

@kakamixoxo

@iyskgd

@yyangj3lly

@alexandran825-blog

@mallgothfairy

[bellarkeselection]

Hello ! I love your work sm and was wondering if you could maybe possible do a Charles Xavier x reader where the reader is British like him but had lived in France most her life so when she gets angry like in class when teaching the students or just in general with other people and or things she start yelling and insulting in French (reader has ANGER ISSUES) ? If that is to much to ask I understand completely, thank you and I hope you have a great week my lovely xx

The British and French Professor

Hi there, anonymous asker - I’m sorry it took me a while before I got this posted but I hope you enjoy what I have wrote

Some people simply find enjoyment in staying in the state or country they were born in.

Others have this desire to travel the world and see more than what we have been around most of their lives.

And I used to be one of those people that stayed at home until I met Charles Xavier and his beautiful dream that he had for mutants and the rest of the world at Oxford University when I had gotten my dream job to teach as a professor here.

The first time I had left my childhood home in France I had to adjust to many different things, especially switching from my French accent to a British one that my mother had. She taught me all she could but I haven’t been able to not curse in French when I let my anger get the better of me.

Walking into my college classroom I sat my bag down seeing most of my students were already in their seats and ready for our exam that day. Taking out my exam papers I heard one of my students coming up to my desk with a nervous look on her face. “Excuse me, Professor L/n. I was hoping I could be excused from today’s exam cause I didn’t get enough sleep last night.” The girl's name was Penny and she had her blonde hair up in a ponytail.

Holding the exam papers up against my chest so she couldn’t see the questions I sent her a half smile. “You’ve known this exam has been coming up for two weeks now.”

“Professor L/n, I can’t take the exam today because I broke up with my girlfriend and that was really draining for me.” One of the boys that sits next to her came up coming up with a half assed excuse.

Rolling my eyes I glared at him. “That’s not a valid reason to not take this exam, Bryan.”

“But Professor L/n-“

The classroom door got thrown open and I saw one of the cheerleaders running inside the classroom completely dressed in her pajamas. “I totally thought she was joking about us having an exam the day before fall break.”

“Alright that’s enough.” Laying the exams faced down beside my laptop that was sitting on the desk.

Easton, who was a senior who had failed this class two more times rose from his seat, beginning to put on his backpack and leave the room. “I’m out of here. I don’t need to learn about English if I’m going to play in the NFL one day.”

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.” Another boy began to pack his things, making the blood inside of me start to boil.

Slamming my palms down on the wooden desk I raised my voice at the students who were trying to leave the classroom. “Nobody leaves this room unless I say that class is over!”

“But half of them aren’t prepared for class, Professor L/n. Why should we make it where they pass because we came prepared for the exam?” Amy, who was one of my best students, raised her hand getting frustrated with the fact that their good test scores would help out the ones who could care less about trying to take or pass the exam for today.

Running a hand down my face I huffed doing my best to not let my anger take over. Even if this wasn’t the first time we have had this conversation in my class this year. “Amy, you shouldn’t worry about the curve. I will not improve the others' grades considering we have already discussed this.”

“So since we’re having this conversation I’m assuming we aren’t having the exam today. I’ll see you on Monday.” Penny slowly started walking backwards towards the door.

“Vous tous gèlez cet instant ! Je refuse d'avoir cette discussion cette année. Vous devez suivre ce cours, je suis votre professeur, ce qui signifie que vous ferez ce que je dis, ce qui signifie que nous aurons l'examen aujourd'hui et que toute personne qui échouera à l'examen devra écrire un essai pendant la pause qui explique comment vous serez préparé pour notre prochain examen. Est-ce clair pour tout le monde ?” - - - - - ( All of you freeze this instant! I refuse to have this discussion anymore this year. You are required to take this course, I am your professor meaning you will do what I say, so that means we will be having the exam today and anyone who fails the exam will be required to write an essay over break that explains how you will be prepared for our next exam. Is that clear to everyone? )

All my students' eyes were locked onto me after I had stopped shouting in French and a familiar British accent could be heard throughout the classroom. “On that note I’d say Professor L/n isn’t feeling well and needs to step out. My colleague Hank will be protruding your exam and will make sure everyone finishes before they leave.” Charles slowly enters the room with his friend Hank coming in behind him moments later.

Slumping my shoulders, the anger that I was feeling almost went away instantly when I saw his face and those piercing blue eyes. “Charles.”

“Let’s both be done for the day. I think you and your students have been stressed out enough for some time.” The telepathic professor extended his hand out to me waiting for me to give him my hand. Slowly intertwining my hand with his own he led me out of the classroom and grabbed my bag.

Once we were outside I felt my entire body relax with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face simply taking a walk with the man that I loved. Charles found a park bench and we sat down where I laid my head against his shoulder sighing heavily. “I didn’t mean to snap at them. My anger - my anger issues just got the better of me.”

“I know you didn’t mean for that to happen, Y/n. You are one of the greatest people I have ever met. So don’t beat yourself up over what happened in your class a few minutes ago.” Charles tucked some hair behind my ear.

Lifting my head up I gently kissed him, threading my fingers through his long brown hair. “Thank you, Charles. I appreciate you being here for me.”

“I’ll always have my girls back. You are my love, Y/n.” He smiled gently cupping my face in his hands deeply kissing me back where we just enjoyed the peaceful moment together.

[cheeby]

The weight of what comes next

read chapter 1 here, chapter 2 here

content: a multi-part isekai story. reader is aware of the plot, and every minor character is aged up. Jujutsu high is now the University of Jujutsu.

18+, eventual smut

Chapter 3-

“Oh, speak of the devil. Here’s your fellow first year buddy,” Gojo chuckles. “Megumi! C’mon over!”

You turn, expecting… well, you weren’t too sure. The boy walking towards you looks like he’s wandered out of a far-away, wistful daydream. His dark hair flops over his forehead, his expression somewhere between bored and annoyed, and he's giving you a look like he already regrets meeting you. He’s absolutely beautiful.

“This is Fushiguro Megumi,” Gojo announces, lazily draping an arm around the boy’s shoulders. Megumi immediately shrugs him off. “He’s our star student! Aaand the only student here that probably won’t make you wanna gouge your eyes out.”

“How comforting..” You mutter under your breath.

At this, Megumi casts a glance your way, his sharp eyes scanning your face briefly, as though trying to figure you out. You blush under his gaze. It feels somehow different than how Nanami or Gojo look at you.

“Who’s this?” He asks Gojo, ignoring you completely. Umm okayyy..

“This,” Gojo says, motioning towards you with a dramatic flourish, “Is (Y/N) (L/N), our newest recruit. Isn’t she soo lucky to have you as her mentor?" “Mentor?” Megumi repeats, frowning. “What.. are you talking about?” “Oh, right, I didnt mention! You two are going on a mission together.” Gojo’s tone is way too cheerful for what he’s just dropped. “Call it… bonding time!” “Wait, what?” You and Megumi say in unison.

Gojo nods. “I know it's a little fast, but we don’t have other sorcerers available right now. Plus, it's just going to another university and investigating a ~spooky~ special-grade object!” He laughs. “Its nothing too bad. And this is a great way for (Y/N) to gain some first hand experience before starting lessons on Monday!”

Megumi grunts. “Great.” He mutters. “And, (Y/N), since you can't really use your cursed energy right now, you’ll be given a weapon imbued with cursed energy to help you fight any curses! Cool, right?” He grins, putting his face between his hands. ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You and Megumi set out on your mission together. You wonder if this is where you’ll meet Yuji, since universities replace the high schools in this universe. Thank god, you think, relieved. You totally didnt wanna be the only young adult along with some 16 year olds! Even though you’re only a few years older than them, it’s just weird.

Megumi’s barely said a word to you since you’ve met him, but you’re okay with it, since his character's exactly like this in the anime. It’s sort of comforting.

You shift the concealed glaive Gojo lent you in your hands. To anyone else, it looks like some sort of tall instrument in its carrier. Your glaive is beautiful, with intricate carvings along the handle and a blade that gleams unnaturally sharp. It’s surprisingly light too—Gojo explained that it was imbued with energy to reduce its weight and sharpen its blade. You could probably spin it around in your hands if you tried, but you know better than that.

The two of you board a packed train to Sendai, and you settle into your seat next to Megumi. It’s early summer here, and the AC is on full blast above you. Megumi’s in his usual dark uniform, which you think is weird, what university has a uniform? You glance down at your own outfit, the one you've stayed in this whole time—jeans and a cute pink top— and suddenly feel self-conscious. Compared to Megumi’s sleek, polished look, you feel massively underdressed. Then, it hits you: what about all your clothes? You groan. You’re gonna have to buy a whole new wardrobe!

At that, Megumi glances at you, his brow furrowed slightly. “What’s wrong?” He asks quietly.

You blink, caught off guard by his attention. “Oh, uh… just thinking about something. I live kinda.. far from Tokyo, so I’m not sure how I’ll get my clothes and stuff to my room.”

He raises a brow, unimpressed. “Just buy new stuff. Gojo will cover it.” His tone is matter-of-fact, as if that suddenly solves everything. He just doesn’t get it! “And on missions, you can only wear your uniform anyway. Obviously not in this case, but you’ll get one soon enough.”

You nod, processing his words. “Don’t you think it’s weird that a university enforces a uniform though?”

Megumi looks away in thought, tilting his head slightly. “I mean, I guess if it was an academic university. But it’s for sorcerers, and we always usually wear some sort of professional wear, I guess. It's just custom in Japan.” You hum in agreement. “I went to a regular university before this… so it’s still weird to me.”

At this, he looks back at you, curiosity flickering across his usually stoic face. God, he’s so cute!

“I was studying physics,” You continue, a hint of pride slipping into your voice. “At a pretty prestigious university in my country.” Even though you were only there for a couple months, it’s still something you’re proud of. You were in your first year of university back home, similar to now.

Megumi nods slightly, his expression unreadable. Then, to your utter shock, he says, “That’s… cool.”

Your eyes widen. Did… Megumi just compliment you?

You settle into a comfortable silence for the next hour and a half. Despite yourself, you feel oddly shy sitting so close to him. Megumi Fushiguro, in the flesh. In 2021, when you had first watched the anime, you had the biggest crush on him. Seeing him in person, rather than a 2D character on your screen? Completely swoon-worthy. His lashes are just as long as you remember, his hands just as graceful. You feel your cheeks heat up, and you force yourself to look away before he catches you staring.To your relief, (and honestly your delight), you’d realised earlier that you’re indeed the same age. Then, there was the fact you were in 2018, which was a total mind-fuck of its own. You had figured it out when you pulled out your iPhone 15 in front of Megumi, who had given you the weirdest look.

“What model is that?” He’d asked, frowning.

You were about to say, before you glanced at his iPhone.. 6s?

“Oh, uh, it’s a foreign brand,” you said quickly, shoving your phone back in your bag before he could question it further. ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The train pulls into Sendai in the evening, and the two of you make your way to the university campus.

“There are strong cursed energy residuals near that shed,” he mutters, pointing towards the small structure in the distance. You pause. For the first time, you realise you can feel it too—sticky and all things gross.

You two find the shed broken into, just like in the anime. There is no cursed object in sight. This, of course, sends Megumi into a panic, as he tries to search for it nearby.

“Damn it,” he mutters, stepping around the shed and again circling the area, clearly agitated. You lean casually against the shed, watching him with mild amusement. You’re not exactly sure why, but you don’t feel particularly inclined to help.

“Are you seriously just gonna stand there?” He snaps at you, glaring.

“Hm.. yup.” You grin, trying—and failing— to suppress a laugh. “Its clearly not here anyway, Megu- uhh Fushiguro.” Damn it! Why do you keep saying their first names?!

He sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You’re impossible.” He mutters, before pulling out his phone to call Gojo.

“There’s nothing here. The Stevenson hutch is empty.” Megumi says, evenly.

“For real? That’s hilarious. Maybe it took a nighttime stroll!” You can hear Gojo’s gleeful voice on the other end. You smile to yourself. Megumi’s jaw tightens. “I’m going to punch you.” He says flatly. “Well, no going home until it’s recovered, okay?” Gojo chirps, before the line disconnects. “I’m seriously going to punch him.” Megumi mutters. You can’t help but giggle at his exasperation. As the sky darkens even further, Megumi sighs and puts his phone away.

“We’ll book a hotel, and continue our search for the object tomorrow morning.” Megumi states, already scrolling on his phone for a good deal. “Okay!” You reply brightly, following him back towards the main road.

You check into the hotel, and head to your rooms, which are conveniently next to each other. You’re a little let down at the fact you weren’t forced into a “sorry, we only have one room available” trope, not that you.. wanted to share a room with Megumi of course. You just.. thought it would be funny. Maybe. Shaking the thought away, you settle into your room.

After dropping off your things, (which wasn’t much, at all), you and Megumi head out to grab dinner at a nearby restaurant. The two of you eat in silence, both way too hungry to bother with conversation, beyond the occasional “this is so good” between bites.

When the plates are cleared and you’re waiting for the bill, you stretch and stifle a yawn, glancing across the booth at Megumi. Deciding to break the silence, you try to strike up conversation.

“Soo, Fushiguro, how did you-” before you can finish, a waiter hands over the bill, and Megumi pays with Gojo-sensei’s card. You raise an eyebrow at the sight, but choose not to comment.

“What were you saying?” He asks softly, as he slides the card back into his wallet. Why was such a simple action so hot?! You hesitate. You were going to ask him how he became a jujutsu sorcerer, but you already knew. You had watched JJK 0 the second it came out, after all. “Oh, nothing important. Let’s get back to the hotel and catch some rest!” You say, cheerfully, brushing it off.

Megumi doesn’t reply, just nods in agreement.

You’re jolted awake by a knock at your door. Groggy and disorientated, you sit up as a familiar voice calls through the door. “Hurry up,” Megumi says, sounding irritated. You glance at the clock and groan. You didn’t even set an alarm. The rest of yesterdays night was uneventful, and since Megumi didnt seem up for much conversation, you just called it an early night.

You hop into the bathroom, brushing your teeth, and quickly fix your hair in the mirror, trying to look at least somewhat good, but without the time to shower, you feel super gross walking out in the same clothes as yesterday. Yuck! You open the door after you’ve finished getting ready. “Sorry for being late,” you say, in shame.

Megumi just scoffs. Okay… what’s his deal? ∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The train pulls into Sendai in the evening, and the two of you make your way to the university campus.

“There are strong cursed energy residuals near that shed,” he mutters, pointing towards the small structure in the distance. You pause. For the first time, you realise you can feel it too—sticky and all things gross.

You two find the shed broken into, just like in the anime. There is no cursed object in sight. This, of course, sends Megumi into a panic, as he tries to search for it nearby.

“Damn it,” he mutters, stepping around the shed and again circling the area, clearly agitated. You lean casually against the shed, watching him with mild amusement. You’re not exactly sure why, but you don’t feel particularly inclined to help.

“Are you seriously just gonna stand there?” He snaps at you, glaring.

“Hm.. yup.” You grin, trying—and failing— to suppress a laugh. “Its clearly not here anyway, Megu- uhh Fushiguro.” Damn it! Why do you keep saying their first names?!

He sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You’re impossible.” He mutters, before pulling out his phone to call Gojo.

“There’s nothing here. The Stevenson hutch is empty.” Megumi says, evenly.

“For real? That’s hilarious. Maybe it took a nighttime stroll!” You can hear Gojo’s gleeful voice on the other end. You smile to yourself. Megumi’s jaw tightens. “I’m going to punch you.” He says flatly. “Well, no going home until it’s recovered, okay?” Gojo chirps, before the line disconnects. “I’m seriously going to punch him.” Megumi mutters. You can’t help but giggle at his exasperation. As the sky darkens, Megumi sighs and puts his phone away.

“We’ll book a hotel, and continue our search for the object tomorrow morning.” Megumi states, already scrolling on his phone for a good deal. “Okay!” You reply brightly, following him back towards the main road.

You check into the hotel, and head to your rooms, which are conveniently next to each other. You’re a little let down at the fact you weren’t forced into a “sorry, we only have one room available” trope, not that you.. wanted to share a room with Megumi of course. You just.. thought it would be funny. Maybe. Shaking the thought away, you settle into your room.

After dropping off your things, (which wasn’t much, at all), you and Megumi head out to grab dinner at a nearby restaurant. The two of you eat in silence, both way too hungry to bother with conversation, beyond the occasional “this is so good” between bites.

When the plates are cleared and you’re waiting for the bill, you stretch and stifle a yawn, glancing across the booth at Megumi. Deciding to break the silence, you try to strike up conversation.

“Soo, Fushiguro, how did you-” before you can finish, a waiter hands over the bill, and Megumi pays with Gojo-sensei’s card. You raise an eyebrow at the sight, but choose not to comment.

“What were you saying?” He asks softly, as he slides the card back into his wallet. Why was such a simple action so hot?! You hesitate. You were going to ask him how he became a jujutsu sorcerer, but you already knew. You had watched JJK 0 the second it came out, after all. “Oh, nothing important. Let’s get back to the hotel and catch some rest!” You say, cheerfully, brushing it off.

Megumi doesn’t reply, just nods in agreement.

You’re jolted awake by a knock at your door. Groggy and disorientated, you sit up as a familiar voice calls through the door. “Hurry up,” Megumi says, sounding irritated. You glance at the clock and groan. You didn’t even set an alarm. The rest of yesterdays night was uneventful, and since Megumi didnt seem up for much conversation, you just called it an early night.

You hop into the bathroom, brushing your teeth, and quickly fix your hair in the mirror, trying to look at least somewhat good, but without the time to shower, you feel super gross walking out in the same clothes as yesterday. Yuck! You open the door after you’ve finished getting ready.

“Sorry for being late,” you say, in shame.

Megumi just scoffs. Okay… what’s his deal?

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Back at the university grounds, Megumi turns to you, his expression serious.

“The presence of the object is too strong to pin down. It feels like its close by, but it could actually be far away. Special grade cursed objects are always a pain…” he rambles.

You nod along, pretending to be clueless even though you know exactly what the object actually is. “I have no clue who could’ve moved it..” He continues, frustration creeping into his voice as you both make your way towards the sports grounds.

As you approach, you catch sight of a pink-haired boy, Yuji Itadori, hurling a heavy metal ball over 30 meters like its nothing. Your jaw drops.

“Woah…” you mutter under your breath. It’s one thing to see it in the anime, but witnessing it in real life? Insane. “That guy is incredible.” Megumi murmurs. “Pulling off that shot with no cursed energy… that’s difficult.”

You nod, silently agreeing.

Suddenly, the boy darts past you and Megumi, moving so fast you almost lose sight of him. An intense burst of cursed energy hits your senses like a slap to the face.

“The presence of a cursed object!” Megumi yells. “Hey, hold it!” He extends an arm towards Yuji, but he’s long gone. You stifle a giggle.

“That’s not funny, (L/N),” Megumi snaps. “Now we’re gonna have to track that guy down!”

“I heard Yuji can run 50 meters in 3 seconds!” Someone nearby says, as you overhear whispers about the boy’s incredible speed. You and Megumi exchange a look of dumbfoundedness.

By the time you follow the trail of cursed energy to the hospital, it was already late evening. You, of course, know this is not where the object you were trying to locate really is—it’s still in the university, but to not risk disrupting the canon, you go along with Megumi anyway. You also know this was the day Yuji’s grandfather had passed away, so you aren’t really looking forward to meeting him under such awful conditions. It feels.. wrong. You reach the hospital, and hang back, taking a seat off to the side, letting Megumi speak to Yuji, their conversation unfolding just as you remember from the anime. There’s no point in interfering, you think.

You observe the interaction neutrally. Megumi explains the concept of curses to a confused Yuji, and warns Yuji how the object he thinks Yuji’s in possession of, is a special-grade cursed object. Yuji, looking nervous, says he doesn’t actually have the object, as you expect, and tosses the box over to Megumi.

“Its.. empty..” Megumi remarks, his tone sharp. Yuji shrugs, and tries to leave the room, but Megumi grabs him by his arm and stops him in his tracks. “Hold it. Where is it?” He demands.

Yuji hesitates, glancing between you on the chair, and Megumi, before admitting “My friends… they’re planning on opening it up tonight, to see what’s inside it.” You stand, crossing your arms. The air is thick, and you feel a frown forming at the corners of your lips.

“Uh.. why? Is that bad?” Yuji asks anxiously, continuing to look between the two of you.

“It’s worse than bad.” Megumi says through gritted teeth. His voice hardens as he continues.

“Your friends are going to die.”

~~~~ cliff-hanger! also, i've attached below some pictures of what a glaive is, if you're unfamiliar. they're very pretty looking, and i thought this would be a badass weapon for MC to have. Lmk any thoughts you have about this chapter, and i'll see you next wednesday!

[pacifymebby]

Hi! I was wondering if you can do a HC of the peaky blinders men having a lover who sings, like they sing so beautifully, and they like sing privately to the boys like love songs to them or a song they made up while slow dancing with them in a room (omfg that would be cute!) Thanks!! Hope your day goes well!! 💜

Aw this is so sweet <3

Warnings: nsfw in some places

Tommy

🌿He heard you singing before he heard you speaking. He was stood behind you in the queue at the bakery and you were singing to yourself under your breath.

🌿Even though you were only singing quietly he could already tell you were a good singer, that he'd like to hear you singing properly.

🌿 So he leant down and spoke quietly to you, "sing a little louder love, shame to waste such a pretty song by keeping it to yourself..."

🌿 Naturally you hushed up pretty sharpish, turning with a little gasp, a blush flourishing on your cheeks. You even apologised upon seeing who it was you'd disturbed with your little song...

🌿But he just chuckles and asks you again, "No I mean it, I you have a lovely voice, I'd like to hear a little more..."

🌿Then you're really blushing because this is Tommy Shelby you're talking to and he's asking you to sing for him in the middle of the bakery, and no one refuses him when he asks for something...

🌿 So you do, because you have to. You're trembling with nerves when you begin to sing a little louder, and you feel the eyes of other people in the shop watching you. You know that impromptu singing isn't exactly normal for a Thursday morning...

🌿 But its Tommys eyes on you that are doing the most damage. He's watching you so intensely.

🌿And when you finish your song, trailing off because your nerves have caught up to you and you feel ridiculous - which you tell him - he just takes your hands, tells you you're shaking, and then tells you again that your voice is beautiful.

🌿He pays for your shopping as a thank you and you expect never to see him again however that isnt the case and you seem to see him more often than ever. Its like he's searching you out...

🌿And he is... After hearing you sing for the first time he's obsessed with you, he thinks you've the most pure and angelic voice... It soothed him, calmed him when he needed to be brought back down to earth and he's determined to get close to you, have you all to himself.

🌿And naturally Tommy gets what he wants, he always does. He goes to the bakery at least once a day, always vague about why he's there, never lying about it because he isn't embarrassed or ashamed of that kind of thing. His determination has always been a strong point.

🌿 "In here a lot lately Tommy, and you don't have a sweet tooth in you..." "No, no you're right Sammy I don't... I'm just looking for someone, figure they do have a sweet tooth," shoots the baker boy a knowing half smile, like they're sharing an in joke, because he knows that being friendly with this lad will get him the information he wants.

🌿"Comes in first thing Saturday mornin and first thing Mondays too, sometimes shes in on a Wednesday for bread flour..."

🌿 So the next Saturday morning he's there bright and early and he finds himself in the queue behind you again, but today you know hes there and youre shy and embarassed remembering what happened last time... So you're not singing.

🌿And Tommys very dissapointed. "Quiet this morning little bird," he muses quietly, leaning down behind you, talking right beside your ear, making you jump and blush when you turn around startled by him. He enjoys seeing you startled and made shy by him, if he's being honest he really likes the sight of that, but he apoligises to you anyway, ever the gentlemen and he just like that he tells you he needs someone for a job, he needs a singer... See his little boy has these terrible nightmares since his mother died and well, he needs someone to come and sing to him at night, help him sleep.

🌿"The money'd be good I promise, don't sound like a real job I know but it'd pay like a real job... Better than a real job..."

🌿And how can you refuse when a man tells you his motherless little one isn't sleeping. So you don't even think about the money, completely taken in by Tommys little white lime. Because its Tommy who needs singing to, Tommy who's getting those horrid nightmares...

🌿You start visiting every couple of days, in the evenings for an hour or two, singing littlw Charlie to sleep whilst his father sits over his crib, stroking his hair. You realise that this must be a side to him Tommy doesnt let anyone else see. You start to see him as someone with vulnerabilities, with a tender side, capable of love. Something you've always been told Thomas Shelby is incapable of.

🌿And as time passes you start to realise that it isn't Charlie who struggles to sleep, that its Tommy. And so as time passes you start staying later, pretending you cant tell Charlie's settled, singing until Tommy has fallen asleep too. Sometimes you're there all night singing and then falling asleep ib your chair at the end of Charlies bed, because its too late to walk home alone.

🌿Things between you and Tommy took a long time to blossom but by the time they did you already felt like you knew him so well.

🌿Tommy is the one who brings your confidence out, always telling you how beautiful your voice is, how lovely it is to hear you sing. How you should be singing for people all the time. Before Tommy you didn't really sing for other people but now he's built you up to a place where you're not affraid to sing for others. In fact you often enjoy it.

🌿The night he kissed you for the first time it was late, Charlie had drifted to sleep and you were doing your usual, pretending not to have noticed, keeping up your singing until Tommy drifted off too.

🌿But Tommy had been watching you, tormented by these increasingly affectionate thoughts he'd been having whenever you were around. And he decided to do something that night.

🌿"y/n love, c'mere," he said, he looked sleepy and you were tired too, "Cmon come here, Charlies asleep and you look so lovely tonight, let me dance with you?"

🌿You were shocked but you were secretly thrilled because over the weeks you'd been visiting little Charlie you'd found yourself growing increasingly soft on Tommy. Perhaps it was that tender side you'd been seeing, that no one else saw, but he made you feel all kinds of happy whenever he was around. Everything felt sweeter, warmer, better.

🌿And although you were still shy when his serious eyes fixed on you and you felt him studying you, you had to admit that it thrilled you to be the center of his attention. And lately youd been wondering how it would feel to be held by him. To have him stroke your hair from your face. To have him look at you with that intensity, but from close up instead of from the otherside of the room.

🌿So you did as he asked and you crossed the bedroom floor to him. You gave him your hands and he held your fingers delicately. And when he stood up his hands moved to your waist, smoothing down the fabric of your dress gently, holding your hips.

🌿You didn't know what to do with your hands so he placed them for you, one on his shoulder, one palm flat against his chest.

🌿"Now," he said, "we need music..." he gave you a teasing, knowing smirk, "sing me something sweet angel, somet as sweet as you eh?"

🌿The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife but it was good tension. The atmosphere close and warm, the two of you gentle and sleepy and soft with one another. You felt so shy you has to close your eyes when you began to sing your favourite slow song, one which was really an old scottish lullaby but which could be danced to slowly too.

🌿"Good girl," Tommy lets out a little sigh, kissing your forehead, beginning to dance you slowly, rocking you. When his lips brush your cheek you open your eyes, look up at him like a doe in the headlights. You've thought about what it would be like to be kissed by him too but this is nothing like anything you could have ever imagined.

🌿Him telling you your songs beautiful as he leans in to kiss you on the lips, your mouths meeting and the two of you suddenly realising that this was something you should have done much much sooner.

🌿And when the kiss deepened and the two of you felt the moment heating up, the swell of need for him, and his for you, almost catching you both by surprise, he lifted you up off your feet and carried you to his bedroom.

🌿Now naturally, you'd stopped singing, your mouth a little occupied... However as he dips to kiss your neck, your collar bones and your chest, as he begins to undress you carefully, delicately, he asks you not to stop singing.

🌿"Keep singing angel," he murmurs to you between kisses, and he keeps repeating himself, even when youre undressing him, even when hes lifted you up off your feet and your legs are wrapped around him. Even as he slips into your for the first time, taking it slow and gentle, yoir voice shaking, your melody interrupted by your breath catching in your throat as he pushed into you slowly...

🌿He'll sing to you too sometimes and he has a far lovelier voice than you imagined he would. His voice is low and just a little rusty/misty sounding. It has that sweet woody tone to it. He'll sing to you when you're sad or scared.

Alfie

🐻 Alfie didn't know you could sing for a long time. It was something which, he'd always imagined you probably could do, because your low voice was always so sweet and resonant even when you spoke, but when he overhears you singing he has to say, he's surprised.

🐻And it niggles at him too, he's almost a little annoyed you've never sang to him, you don't even sing around him, not even in the evenings when he's got the wireless on.

🐻 He probably gets a bit grumpy about it as if he thinks youve been keeping your beautiful singing a secret from him on purpose.

🐻 But in reality you're just shy, and you don't think you do have a beautiful singing voice. You definitely don't think its beautiful enough to warrant singing for other people as if you believe yourself to be something special...

🐻 But Alfie stands just the otherside of the kitchen doorway listening to you sing as you kneed your bread dough. Thinks your voice is the most enchanting sound he's ever heard and he loves it.

🐻 Pretends not to like it, just to tease you, he comes into the kitchen behind you, grumbling and chuntering away. "Now whats all this racket then, whats all this... This noise bloody awful noise right keepin me awake..." but he can't keep his trick up for very long at all, not when you look mortified, wide eyes and imediately apologising over and over.

🐻He has to laugh, he can't believe you believe him for a start. But he feels guilty for teasing you and immediately opens his arms up to you, hugs you and kisses your cheek.

🐻"I'm only teasing zieskiet, obviously I'm only teasing you... As a matter of fact yeah, your little song you were singing just now, well, as a matter of fact my dear that was the most beautiful little song my fussy old ears, have ever been fuckin blessed to hear..."

🐻 Alfie thinks your voice is so inspiring, and he's a lover of music himself, a lover of the arts, he always tells you you should be singing on stages, in operas, for an audience with the knowledge, the cultured palette to appreciate you.

🐻You're his muse when he starts writing his opera, in fact your voice alone is half the reason he has for trying to write it in the first place. He wants to write an opera fittinf of youe glorious voice. But whenever he asks you to sing for him, whenever he asks you to inspire him, you just get shy and you try to hide away.

🐻And you always tease him to, reminding him, "I thought my singing was just a bloody great racket..." you'll refuse to sing for him just to watch him get grumpy and grumbly and then you'll giggle and sing for him running your fingers through his hair or his beards.

🐻 And you'll sing little love songs, tell him you wrote them for him and he'll get a little embarassed. "Don't know what you're wasting your time writing songs about me for zieskiet... Just an old man..." "My old man..."

🐻 He writes arias for you to sing and tries to get you to sing for other people but you won't do it. Your voice is something you trust only Alfie with, and he grows comfortable with that, begins to feel like he wouldn't want it any other way. Your voice is this precious secret that you share, something so precious you'll only give it to him.

🐻 Calls for you to come sit in his lap when its late and hes just come home from the office or that late night business that always sees him come home with blood on his hands. He sits himself down at the kitchen table or in his big armchair by the fire and he calls for you to come to him.

🐻 "Zieskiet my precious angel come sit down with your old man, it's been a fuckin godless day and he's tired..." and you go to him, let him pull you down into his lap, let him bundle you up in his arms, kiss you and growl into your neck. Running his hands over your waist, squeezing you possesively.

🐻 Holds your face in his hands and looks up at you, into your eyes with his own, which are so cold and steely for everyone but you. For you theyre molten, soft and dark and full of adoration.

🐻 "Sing me a song zieskiet, one with a sad little story right? One where the hero dies somet tragic yeah... Will you do that for your old man yeah, sing him a nice fuckin tragedy?"

🐻 Because he's a strange eccentric he will absolutely send Ollie or someone running half way across the city to find you having been told its an emergency, a serious fuckin emergency.

🐻 And when you get to the office Alfies just frowning, "Ah zieskiet, poppet thank the heavens you are here... Finally..." "What is it Alf, whats the matter?" "Ive tuned in and out of this bloody wireless yeah, and I've searched this whole bloody box of records yeah, ain't any fuckin music anywhere to be found..."

🐻 He really scared you half to death, had you running across the city with Ollie, just so you could sing him his favourite song.

Arthur

🍂 You've never really thought of yourself as particularly musically gifted and you don't really think your voice is anything special, however you love to sing and sing all the time. You adore music, you use it for emotional regulation, you hate to sit in silence. You hum when youre nervous, when you're happy, when you're sad you listen to sad songs and you sing along and pretend that your pain is just as bad as the pain of the man singing about his dead love.

🍂 And its something Arthurs always loved about you. How you're always singing, how you brighten a room with your good mood and your happy humming. How when things get tense and the kids need soothing and distracting, you're there to sooth them with a little song.

🍂 You teach Johns kids and Charlie and Ruby little songs, nursery rhymes, or songs to learn the alphabet and how to count. Songs to learn the days and the months. Arthur loves how you have a song for everything.

🍂 Its just something that makes you so different from everyone else in his life. You're so sweet and goodhearted and you're never too serious and your singing puts him at ease. He loves to listen to you and it always leaves him feeling warm and good inside when you sing.

🍂 When hes stressed out he'll ask you to sing for him and thats the only time you ever feel self concious, when he asks you to sing just for him and you can tell that hes depending on you for something. Then you question whether you're really good enough at singing... Because you know he'll actually be listening and expecting to hear something beautiful.

🍂 He likes to share a bath with you, share some wine, share some snow and then have you sing whilst you massage his shoulders. Loves when you wash his hair and sing for him, when you sing soft and low and sweetly in his ear, just for him. It makes him feel so safe and pure.

🍂 You sing to him to calm him when he's struggling to come down from one of those raging adrenaline rushes triggered by his PTSD. When hes having flashbacks you sing to him and hold his hand, kiss his temple. It helps to keep him grounded, helps him to stay on this plain in this reality instead of getting lost in a bad memory.

🍂You sing to him when youre cleaning his wounds, when youre washing other men's blood from his hands, scrubbing his nails and singing soothing little songs to calm him, to let him know you still love him, still think he deserves to be sung to. To be treated like a human.

🍂 He has favourite songs he'll ask for. And sometimes if youre singing and he doesn't feel like the kids are grateful enough that you sing to them he'll tell them to hush up and listen to you, "Dont know how lucky you are gettin to hear your aunty y/n sing for you like that, other kids would kill to have someone so beautiful singin to them!"

🍂Actually can get grumpy if he doesn't think other people appreciate your singing enough.

John

🌼 Is such a git and teases you relentless about your singing because you sing to yourself all the time.

🌼 "eh up that crazy lass from Watery Lanes singin to herself again, what a looney..." he's only joking but he doesn't know when a jokes stopped being funny, or that hes taking the joke too far.

🌼 Doesn't realise you think he's being serious or at least means it a little bit when he says its embarassing the way you wander round singing to yourself all the time, "whole of Birminghams gonna think you're losing the plot flower, gonna think you've gone nuts..."

🌼 So after awhile his jokes get to you and you take his thoughtless teasing to heart. You stop singing, or you try anyway. Its an old habbit and it dies hard and slow, so slow that John doesn't notice how you're singing less and less, or how sometimes you'll be singing to yourself but you'll stop just as he walks into a room.

🌼 Basically he's oblivious to the damage hes done until its too late and you really have stopped singing completely. Now you don't even really sing to yourself and its his fault...

🌼 Then one day he realises how quiet it is, how quiet you are and he gets upset, suddenly really worried for you.

🌼 "Y/N lass whats going on eh? You're upset or somets happened? Am not stupid I can tell..." but he is stupid, hes a stupid fuckin dinlow because even now he doesnt realise whats really the matter. When you tell him nothing is wrong, that everythings fine he argues back and says

🌼 "No, nah somethings not right flower, you don't sing anymore or anything, you're so quiet..."

🌼 You look at him, a little bit confused, a little bit wounded. "Thought you didn't like my singin...why do you care if I don't sing anymore?" you sound more sullen than you think you do and suddenly John knows exactly why you've stopped singing and he feels like such a fucking idiot.

🌼 "Oh bloody hell," he sighs, getting annoyed with himself for being an idiot. "Fuck sake, I'm sorry love..."

🌼 Tells you that he loves your singing and always has, that its one of his favourite things about you and thats the whole reason he used to tease you for it. Because he loves it so much he just thought that it was obvious he was only teasing.

🌼 So then he has to chip away at you the other direction, teasing you until you're singing for him again. Because obviously John isnt going to learn the error of his daft, boyish ways.

🌼 And finally you relent and give in and sing a little love song for him which has you both blushing.

🌼 His favourite thing which he used to love watching was how you'd gather all the wains up in your bed with you at night and if a story wasn't working to send them all off to sleep, you'd sing lullabyes for them.

🌼 He liked climbing into bed with you and the children and getting cosy, one big happy family, all huggled up together whilst you sang for them.

🌼 When one of the wains starts singing and copying you, singing with you sometimes John is overwhelmed with pride and he loves it. Loves you for teaching his littlens something he could never have taught them himself.

🌼Will get jealous if its been a long day and all he wants is to spend a little alone time with his girl, but he can't get anywhere near you because the kids want you to sing for them. He'll end up packing them all off to bed with the promise of one last song and then when finally its just you and him he'll tease you, singing your song back to you, making fun until youre giggling and blushing and actually getting quite wound up by him.

🌼 Then hes all kisses and grabbing you, pulling you close, singing and kissing you all over until youre laughing too much to fight him anymore.

Bonnie

🍀Has always loved to listen to music, ever since he was a little boy. And because you grew up together travelling around, hes always known you could sing. Always loved listening to you sing.

🍀Once when you were a little girl one of the older lads teased you about your singing voice telling you to shut up, telling you it wasnt cool to sing, it was cool to know how to hunt and do manly things. And little Bonnie threw a rock at him, "You shut up dinlow!"

🍀He didn't win that fight and in fact he got into a fair bit of bother for throwing that rock at one of the Boswell boys. A lot of trouble actually, more than it was worth as far as youre concerned.

🍀You didn't stop singing, you were a smart girl and you knew that most of the time the boys that said mean things to you were only doing it because they were daft and didn't know how to speak to girls. Had to be mean because they were scared of pretty lassies.

🍀Thats what Bonnie always told you anyway.

🍀Now you're much older and Bonnie is your boy, your champion, and you still sing all the time. You sing to the wains when you're helping to look after them. You sing when you're doing your chores, doing the washing in the stream, preparing the meat when the lads come back from hunting.

🍀You often sing around the fire in the evening when the men get their instruments out and some of the others dance with their wives and children. You'll sing at funerals too, when everyone needs a sad song to fill the silence whilst you watch the flames burning and the remember those who have passed.

🍀Sometimes Bonnie watches you with the youngens, when youre singing your lullabies to the babies, rocking them to sleep... He can't help but imagine you singing to his babies one day. Sometimes watching you singing with the children gets him in the mind that he wants to give you children sooner rather than later.

🍀Has definitely told you this too, he isn't shy about it. Will kiss your cheek and your neck, nibble your ear and then say something about how he's gonna have you singing lullabies to babies of your own in no time at all.

🍀He's a superstitious lad, has his pre fight routines... And the most important is that you come to his changing room, that just you and him get at least a minute or two alone for you to sing his lucky song to him whilst you wrap his hands up. He'll close his eyes and focus on your voice, how pure and pretty it is, he'll slow his breathing, get himself in the zone and then he'll kiss your cheek, give you one of his cheeky over confident winks, and off he goes to fight like a champion yet again.

🍀Teases you, says one day you'll be singing folk songs about bonnie Bonnie Gold champion of the world.

🍀 Fond of a post fuck lullaby, loves to hold you in his arms and listen to one of your sweet little songs. Loves to feel the vibration of your voice in his chest when you're resting on top of him.

🍀 He thinks of your singing when hes scared. He doesnt really get scared so easily, he enjoys most of the work he does for the blinders, doesn't really mind the killing, he's always been very laidback about those sorts of things, always been very calm. But sometimes when he's in a dangerous situation and he's realising quite how dangerous what he's doing is, when he realises he might not get out of a place alive, he remembers one of your songs, pictures you singing in a field or by the fire or with the wains, or how sometimes you sing just for him in the middle of the night, and the thought calms him.

🍀When he's injured after a fight, or after a blinder job that went wrong, and he can see that you're scared by the sorry state of him, he'll force you an easy smile and ask you to sing for him. Partly because he knows it'll give you something to focus on instead of powerlessly worrying, and partly because he'll take any excuse to hear that gorgeous voice of yours. "Pretty as bird song in the morning dove, thats how your singin sounds...."

🍀 Bonnie can definitely sing and he definitely sings for you, little lullabys and sad ancient folk songs with mysterious stories threaded into them. He'll lie with you under a tree at the edge of misty moorlands and sing to you a little irish lament about a girl who went wandering into the mist to find her lover never to return again. He'll tell you she haunts the moores and then he'll tease you when he scares you with his little ghost songs.

Isaiah

🐀You're the life of a party when you sing down the Garrison and Isaiah is always glad to be able to see you dancing and singing spreading joy, stirring high spirits.

🐀He's also pretty pleased because it was him who told the Shelbys to hire you as a barmaid, told them you were a wonderful singer and that you'd have the place buzzing and busy all night.

🐀And its true, you have the power to pick exactly the right song and get every man up to the bar or dancing with his lass or remembering times gone by. You're a real crowd pleaser thats for sure and Isaiah is very proud to have found you. Always tells Tommy "you owe me for that Tommy, my girls the main reason this place stays open..."

🐀But Isaiah has a jealous streak and he doesn't like watching the way the other men at the Garrison admire you. Hates to see other men falling in love with his lass, falling for your voice and the pretty songs you sing, the bright light which seems to radiate from you when you smile through the notes of a happy song.

🐀So he spends half the night planning how he'll get you alone, soothing his jealousy with thoughts of what he'll do when he finally gets you alone and he can tease you and touch you, kiss you all he likes without feeling jealous eyes on him.

🐀Taking you into the private booth and locking the little door so that its just you and him and you can't be disturbed. You getting flustered because he's just stolen you from the floor and you're supposed to be working.

🐀"Saiah whatre you doing, theres pints to pull! You'll get me in trouble..." "Nah love, ain't gettin in any trouble if you're with me, am a blinder aren't I..." winking at you being cheeky, teasing you and pulling you into his lap, holding you there one hand on your hip, one holding your chin and stearing you to loom at him.

🐀"Sing me a song love, one thats just for me..." he says giving you a needy little stare, his eyes fixed on yours, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. He enjoys seeing you blush, seeing you get a little shy. That shy smile so beautiful. "Sing us a song thats just for me and promise you'll never sing it for anyone else yeah.."

🐀So you do, and you promise you'll never sing it for anyone else, so it becomes your song. When you get married its the song you share your first dance to.

🐀At home, and only when no one else is with you he'll join in your songs and dance you around the kitchen or the bedroom, only interrupting your melody when he can't keep his lips from your lips any longer.

🐀You can tell his jealousy and how possesive he is over you and you love it, and you want him to know that you love it and you love him, so you write him little love songs and laments and you sing them for him in that private booth at the Garrison or in bed when the house is quiet and the streets outside are hushed by the late late night sky.

🐀He LOVES your little love songs and he can't even begin to express the effect they have on him. Hearing the words you wrote for him, hearing a whole song inspired by him... Its incredible and it stokes his ego but it also makes him feel so loved...

🐀Theres also probably something precious to Isaiah about the fact that you admire him and think hes good enough to be the subject of a song because obviously racism is aggressively prevalent in 1920s birmingham and he spends a lot of time very aware that if it wasnt for his peaky cap and even despite his peaky cap, there are many who would think him unworthy even of acknowledgement. So the fact that the love of his life is writing pretty little songs about how much they adore him, how handsome he is, how he makes their whole world turn... Well, he feels very proud and very honored and touched and he never quite knows how to express it.

🐀Tries to write you one too but it ends up being a silly little ditty that ends with something dirty that makes you blush and laugh and climb straight into bed with him.

Michael

☘️ There are many parts of himself Michael keeps secret. All the things he thinks people might think him a "soft lad" for.

☘️ One of these is that he can sing beautifully. His adopted mother used to play piano and have him and his brother sing hymns from church.

☘️His mother knows he can sing too, she makes him sing for her when she's worried, when the voices of the dead are too loud or painful to listen to. When shes unwell and suffering. Michael will sing for her but he'll be sullen and embarassed and he'll berrate her for even asking it of him.

☘️ The other hidden secret is that he loves to be sung to sleep. He loves to lie with you, him between your legs, your thighs wrapped around his waist, his head resting on your belly as you comb your fingers through his hair and sing him a soft soothing melody.

☘️Probably because he has mummy issues. He loves to be spoiled and taken care of like that, to be treated gently.

☘️After the Changretta hit on him, when he's in the hospital, you visit him every day, you're so worried about him but he's got glad to have his "little songbird" with him to sing for him and keep him from killing himself from the boredom of being cooped up like that.

☘️He asks you to sing songs for him whilst you change his bandages and wash his wounds. He likes the distraction from the pain and he tells you you have a healing voice. Tells you its a gift, that you were a gift sent to him from some higher power.

☘️If you want to sing professionally, which michael will definitely encourage, he will pull the strings to get you singing in tge fanciest hotels, to have you climb the ladder to stardom. Partially because he wants to see you happy and will do anything to keep you happy, but also partially because it feeds his ego and makes him feel powerful to have a famous girlfriend, one who is admired by so many for her beautiful voice. You're a real star, shining bright, and you're all his. No one elses.

☘️He keeps his own talent hidden from you for a long long time because he's worried you'll think him less of a man, worried you'll think he's soft. But one day, the day your father dies, you're so distraught, exhausted from all your grief, and michael wants to help you so he holds you in his arms and strokes your hair, rocks you gently and sings you to sleep.

☘️He doesnt think youll remember, thinks you'll have forgotten it because you were in such a state, but you remember how beautifully he sang and when you ask him about it he gets so self concious and blushes and tries to deny it.

☘️ "Must have been imagining it sweetheart I can't sing..."

☘️You beg him to sing to him again, and again and again...

☘️And finally he gives in, says that if you'll sing him a song he will join in. And you sound really lovely together and you can't keep the smiles off your faces.

☘️When you have children michael sings them these lowly lullabies and you love to fall asleep holding the baby in your arms, the both of you lulled to sleep by daddy.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 69

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words: 5K

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Monday, March 14; 9:30 AM - Manchester

A small routine had developed over two weeks. School continued, where I was pushing myself hard with revisions. It had become difficult to fit my friends into my schedule, but I had to make a choice. I wanted to pass my exam at any cost. I received some reproaches from them, though. Only Alexia and Alessia stood up for me. Maybe even Leah and Lotte now, too. Thanks to Alessia, I was able to talk to Leah and resolve our issues. She understood my intentions for studying, and I think she wasn’t as upset anymore about my relationship with Lucy.

"I just found it strange at first and was worried for you. I get that you're being careful. Now, give me some time to get used to it," she had told me.

I thought that was sweet of her. It wasn’t for nothing that I liked her so much. As for Lotte, we also had a conversation. I apologized for not remembering her. She was surprised and told me she had wanted me to figure it out on my own. Still, she accepted my apology, saying we could maybe reconnect now. I agreed, though I still struggled with the idea. I don’t think knowing each other from before changes much about our relationship today.

Outside of my friends, I’m happy with my life right now. Things with Lucy are going great. We spent a quiet weekend with her friends, which I needed after the last one in Barcelona. I’m still waiting to hear back from the galleries. It’s nerve-wracking, but I haven’t lost hope. I continue sending letters with Beth’s help and Lucy’s encouragement. On the other hand, I still haven’t called my mom. We left without seeing her, as she was called to the hospital urgently. In a way, I was relieved. I avoided confrontation at least. Knowing her, she probably thinks I’m angry at her. I can’t blame her; she’s borne the brunt of my outbursts. Lucy advised me to contact her soon, but I haven’t had the courage yet. I still feel guilty about what happened. One positive thing is that I’ve long been prepared for the idea of marriage. My father drilled it into me, and I’ll go through with it, if only to honor his memory.

"Are you okay?" Lucy asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I jump slightly. We were in the car, on the way to my meeting at the gallery with Mr. Fields. I was glad Lucy was coming with me. At least we’d get to spend some time together outside of school.

"Yeah," I exhaled.

"Are you nervous?"

"A little… Not too much, honestly."

I had no idea what would come from this meeting. I had already resigned myself to not having high expectations. I didn’t want to be disappointed by the outcome.

"Actually, I wonder why I even accepted this meeting. I should have declined, and it would all be over."

"Don’t say that. We don’t know what’s in store. Maybe it’ll go well, and he’ll offer better solutions."

"Hmm..."

I love her optimism. I’m not as hopeful. Maybe she’s just trying to reassure me. We arrive at our destination. This time, it’s the real gallery in the center, not the workshop. Mr. Fields said he’d be here today. He insisted that Lucy accompany me, and I couldn’t be happier. We walk into the building, and I’m struck by its splendor. Everything is beautiful, modern, white, and sleek. There are so many paintings on display. Some are for sale, others aren’t, or at least that’s what I gather since some don’t have prices. I feel a bit lost. I see Mr. Fields nearby, but he doesn’t seem to have noticed us. He’s talking to no one in particular as he approaches a woman at the reception. She notices us and looks uncomfortable as he gives her cold instructions before walking back down the hall he came from.

"Great start," Lucy whispers.

I nod slightly, focusing on the paintings to keep myself busy. The receptionist has seen us, so I assume she’ll come over. My mind wanders a little. I wasn’t expecting a gallery like this. Could I work in a place like this? It’s so large. Honestly, it’s massive. I don’t even dare explore the whole place. I understand its reputation now. This isn’t my thing. I’m not sure I belong in an environment like this.

"Hello, can I help you with something?" the young woman approaches us.

She seems uncomfortable, and I get it. Her boss spoke to her like dirt right in front of us without even realizing it. She knows we saw everything. Seeing me frozen, Lucy steps in first.

"Hello. We have an appointment with Mr. Fields."

"Oh yes, he mentioned your arrival. I’m sorry, I can’t remember the name he gave me, though."

No surprise there… Lucy nudges me to snap me out of my daze. The woman looks at me, waiting for an answer.

"Batlle. Ona Batlle, that’s my name."

"Yes, that’s right. Thanks for reminding me. He’s on the phone, but I’ll let him know you’re here. Feel free to look around while you wait."

"Thank you."

"Excuse me," Lucy stops her. "Are you an apprentice here?"

The young woman turns bright red in front of my girlfriend. Okay, I’ll admit Lucy can be quite intimidating when she wants to be, especially with that serious look. Why is she asking about this? The woman stammers a sort of "yes" before hurrying away. I sigh and start fiddling with my fingers. I’m starting to feel stressed, and I don’t like it. I wait until she’s far enough before turning to Lucy.

"I’m not feeling good about this," I mumble. "And why did you ask that question?"

"Relax, I’m here. I just wanted to know. Do you still want this job?"

Lucy is completely calm. I can tell she’s up to something. I shrug.

"I... I don’t know. This environment isn’t really me," I admit hesitantly.

She smiles and runs her hand through my hair.

"I know, but we’re not leaving now that we’re here."

"Fields seems really busy."

"Hmm, you’re right. I hope he’ll give us the attention we deserve, or I’ll get mad quickly," she tells me. "He’s already late," she points out.

I laugh softly. If he’s late, he’s definitely not winning any points with Lucy. I hope she’ll be able to keep her cool. I’m glad she’s with me. Unlike me, she has enough character to speak up if necessary.

"Hey," she says, catching my attention. "Don’t feel so uncomfortable, okay? If Fields wanted to meet with you, it’s because he believes in your talent."

I blush, feeling easily seen through.

"Do you want to know what I think?" she continues.

I nod. I think I need to hear what she has to say to lift my spirits.

"I think your talent is even bigger than this empire, so don’t lose confidence because of this," she says, gesturing to the room around us.

"Are you sure...? Then why do I feel so uncomfortable?"

"Because it doesn’t reflect your personality, but that has nothing to do with your talent. What I’m trying to say is that not every gallery will be the right fit for you, but that doesn’t mean you should doubt yourself. Okay?"

I take a deep breath and nod. I knew I could always count on her to lift me up. I felt like a burden in the middle of all this.

"It’ll be fine," she reassures me with a gentle pat on my back. Maybe things don’t happen by chance after all...

"Ladies!" a deep voice calls out, startling me. "What a pleasure to finally have you here."

Mr. Fields walks out of the hallway he had disappeared into and comes toward us. It seems he really hadn’t noticed us before... I force a smile.

"How are you? Come on, let’s go to my office."

His initial question, just for formality, is quickly forgotten. He leads us to his office. It’s more spacious and better furnished than the one in the workshop. Everything is so different from my first meeting with him. There’s no doubt he must host more people here. It’s more contemporary and softer. The one in the workshop was clearly more personal and better decorated in my opinion.

"Please, have a seat," he said, motioning to the chairs in front of his desk before walking around to sit down.

Lucy let me take a seat first before joining me. Her presence gave me confidence. She made me feel safe.

"I'm happy to finally meet you, Miss Bronze. May I also speak to you informally?" 

A lump formed in my throat. During our first meeting, he had addressed me informally without asking. I hate people who seem to have more respect for some than for others. It feels like he's categorizing people to decide how to speak to them. He doesn't help me feel any better. It’s like he’s a completely different person, someone I’ve never met before.

"If you like. It’ll make the conversation easier."

He smiled, nodding.

"Oh, excuse me. I have a call," he said, touching his ear.

Until then, I hadn’t noticed, but he was wearing an earpiece. Now I understood why he seemed to be talking to himself earlier.

"Would you like a coffee before we start?"

"No, thank you."

"I'd love one," Lucy said at the same moment.

"Alright," he chuckled. "I'll go get that for you. Would you like anything else, Ona?"

"No, thank you, I'm fine."

"I’ll be right back."

I rubbed my hands together as he left. He took the call. I could hear his voice echoing in the hallway. What a jerk... He dared to take a call in the middle of our meeting. It’s so disrespectful. I jumped slightly when Lucy placed her hand on my thigh.

"Hey, are you okay? Is he making you uncomfortable?" she asked, frowning.

"No, I'm fine..."

"Ona. I can still tell when you're not alright, so don’t lie to me. I don’t like that."

"He seems different. But really, it’s okay. It’s the place that’s making me nervous."

This time I wasn’t lying. I know my reactions affect Lucy, and that’s the last thing I want right now. She nodded understandingly, taking my hand and kissing the back of it.

"Relax, okay? I’ll handle the talking."

"No, ple-"

"Shh. I hate seeing you like this. I’m just going to ask him a few questions. Let’s see if he gives me the answers I want."

"W-what do you mean by that?"

"I want to know if this place is right for you. We’ll see based on his responses," she said, shrugging.

"And if it’s not?"

"If it’s not, I’m not letting you work somewhere you won’t feel comfortable. You’ll just end up hating your job, and that’s not the point when you’re just starting a career."

I bit my lip, lowering my head. She quickly lifted it back up with her fingers, brushing them gently along my chin.

"I fully intend to put this guy in his place when he gets back."

"Y-you’re really going to do that?"

"I’d do anything for those beautiful eyes of yours."

"And what if we manage to negotiate a chance for me to work here?"

"Then it could stay an option, if you have nothing better," she sighed.

I smiled, realizing that the idea didn’t seem to thrill her. It was adorable how she was acting.

"Baby, if this interview doesn’t lead anywhere, don’t see it as a failure, okay? I’m sure there’ll be other galleries that will appreciate you a lot more."

"You think he’s going to conduct the whole interview over the phone?"

"He better not if he doesn’t want to face my wrath. That’s exactly why I’m planning to set him straight."

I smiled despite myself. That was exactly what she was aiming for, given the grin she flashed back at me. Footsteps echoed in the hallway, giving us time to adjust ourselves before he ended his call and opened the door. As he re-entered, he smiled and made his way around the desk. I already missed Lucy’s touch, but I knew that here, she had to play the role of my manager, not my girlfriend, unfortunately.

"Here you go," he said, placing a cup in front of Lucy. "Careful, it’s hot."

"Thank you."

"Do you take sugar?"

"No, no, it's fine like this," she replied as he placed a glass in front of me.

"I thought I'd bring you a glass of water, just in case," he said with a small smile.

He’s so fake. I hate it. But I thanked him anyway. He finally sat down in front of us. Our meeting should have started half an hour ago, and I had to admit it was getting tiring that he kept doing his own thing without acknowledging us.

"Alright then. Let’s not waste any more time. I apologize, but I’m very busy today, with many appointments and important calls."

"We noticed," Lucy remarked pointedly. "I hope we won’t be interrupted again."

He didn’t respond to the comment, but his expression showed he didn’t like it. He seemed uncomfortable. He tugged at the sleeves of his suit and clasped his hands on the desk, sitting up as straight as possible.

"Certainly, we’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again," he muttered. "Well, then. The reason we’re here is that I’ve offered Ona a position as an apprentice at my gallery next year."

"A position in Cardiff," Lucy corrected.

I stifled a smile. For some reason, it seemed like she was irritated. She wasn’t holding back at all. I recognized her now, acting like she did in the beginning, with that heartless demeanor. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Fields was a bit thrown off.

"Yes, that’s right," he responded as calmly as possible.

"And why is that?" she pressed on.

Her tone had shifted completely. She was clearly challenging him.

"I must admit that I was a bit surprised by your decision. You have an enormous gallery at your disposal, and yet you can’t find a spot for her here? Ona has already made a long journey to Manchester, she’s settled in, stable, and now you want to send her elsewhere."

Fields was momentarily at a loss for words, as was I. She had asked me to trust her, and now I was starting to understand why. She was protecting me while trying to find common ground. I shouldn’t be surprised. She would always fight for what’s best for me. Fields, who had been eager to meet her earlier, must have been regretting it by now.

"Well… I must admit that Ona’s application came in rather late," he replied without faltering. "I’ve already promised two apprenticeships to other students for this gallery. It’s difficult to take on a third, knowing that I already have two students moving into their second year. That’s why I suggested Cardiff. It’s the closest gallery I own in the area. I’ve already coordinated with the school, should you be interested."

He pushed some documents toward us. He had prepared everything. There was an enrollment form for Cardiff’s school right in front of us, pre-filled with the company’s details. Lucy had been right. He had no intention of leaving room for negotiation. The student’s section was still blank, and something told me that if it weren’t me, he’d have no qualms about finding someone else.

"I understand this is a tough decision, but you have to understand that I receive a lot of applications. Ona is incredibly talented, which is why I made this offer, but she isn’t the only one. I hadn’t even planned on taking an apprentice at Cardiff since it’s just opened. This is a significant opportunity I’m offering."

I looked at Lucy after hearing this. He knew how to respond too. She remained focused on Fields. It was a real battle between them. One thing was certain: he wasn’t willing to accept any other alternatives.

"And from what you’ve said, Ona seems to be doing quite well. I didn’t think a change of city would be an issue."

"It is an issue. She’s found stability here with new friends and even a relationship. You don’t realize it, but you’re asking her to leave everything behind."

Fields absorbed Lucy’s words with understanding. Maybe he wasn’t exactly the person I had described earlier...

"I see. You are in a unique situation, but I’m not sure I can offer anything better. I’ll have to take a look before giving you my final answer."

"Alright..." Lucy murmured, sounding as surprised as I was by his retreat. "May I ask what her tasks will be?"

"Of course. I’ve already discussed this with Mr. Davis, the head of my new agency. There will be no shortage of work. He wasn’t convinced about taking someone on, but I managed to persuade him."

"I’ve noticed the young woman at the reception is an apprentice. Will Ona be doing similar tasks?"

"Yes, of course. She’ll have the opportunity to vary her responsibilities. Reception work will be part of it. »

- She won't just be doing that, right?

- No, he replies with a small laugh.

He had realized by now that she was defending me. I saw him bring his hand to his ear. He had another call, I was sure of it. I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

- I hope you're not going to take that call, my girlfriend warned him.

- Excuse me, we have an exhibition opening this weekend, so there’s a bit of stress, she laughs. I'll call back later, he adds, taking off his earpiece.

- Hmm... Can you elaborate now?

- Well, yes, the tasks then. Ona will have the opportunity to work in the studio, of course. She’ll be able to practice and learn with the other apprentices, and then, who knows, maybe even exhibit her work. It’s rare that we sell them since they’re not professional, but exhibiting is still an opportunity to be noticed by potential clients.

- OK... But I sense there’s a “but.”

- Indeed. There will be alternation between the apprentices. Sometimes they’ll be here in the gallery, interacting with buyers and handling tasks we assign them. It might not be the best part of the job, but I believe it’s a good experience for them.

- We saw you shouting at one of them earlier. At least, you didn’t seem very approachable and didn’t even notice us.

He takes a deep breath. Lucy is perfect. She doesn’t attack him, but she knows how to unsettle him in other ways.

- True. We sometimes get stressed and lose our composure. Of course, that won’t fall on you, but it might happen from time to time, he tells me.

- All right. Will she be invited to exhibition openings?

- Yes, yes, of course. She might even organize one. Well, not at the beginning, but that will be part of the learning process—learning the organization and maybe even assisting if she stands out among the other apprentices. It’s a kind of reward for us.

I nod. The job description is more than interesting... I’d be crazy to say no...

- So, you guarantee she’ll have the opportunity to improve her art through all this?

- Normally, yes. We do allow them some time, but let’s not have illusions. It will be a small part of your work here. You’ll be able to practice the most at school.

School. I had almost forgotten that detail. It’s true that that’s where I’ll get the most help to improve. Still, I hope to have some opportunities for professional advice here. I have my doubts about that. This guy gives me the impression he's selling us a dream, but in the end, we’ll just be there to keep his business running. That’s definitely not what I’m looking for. If I want to do this job, it’s out of passion, not for anything else.

- How big is this gallery? Lucy asks.

- It’s the largest one here. The studio was recently relocated to expand the gallery. As for the one in Cardiff, it's just slightly smaller than this one. However, we managed to keep the studio in the same place, which is obviously better.

- Are you planning to expand your circle even more?

- Definitely, yes. If the Cardiff location does well, there’s a good chance new branches will open in the south, he replies proudly.

- You manage everything by yourself?

- Yes. I don’t like delegating.

- So, the training won’t be from you.

- No, indeed. My agency managers usually handle that part, especially for the studio. However, that doesn’t stop me from overseeing my apprentices, I assure you. I keep an eye on everything.

They all say that... The one reassuring thing is that I won’t have to deal with him often in that case.

- OK, Lucy murmurs. I think I have my answers.

- Do you need more time to make your decision?

- Actually, yes. We’ll accept the offer if you can work something out regarding the location.

He raises an eyebrow at her request.

- I’ve been following Ona since her first day at school, and I can guarantee you that a change of environment won’t do her any good. She’s built a life here, so for her well-being, if we can negotiate that point, I think it would be perfect.

He sighs softly, running his hand through his hair. This doesn’t seem to suit him. He expected us to accept after he sold us on the position.

- Very well, I’ll get back to you in that case, but I can’t promise anything.

- No problem. The important thing is that you’ll have done your best to solve the issue.

- Do you have any other questions?

- No, I think that’s all.

- Good, then we can conclude here.

- Yes. We won’t take up any more of your time. Have a good day, she says, offering him her hand.

- I’ll walk you out anyway, he says, standing up.

I didn’t open my mouth once during this interview. In a way, that suits me just fine. He walks us to the entrance, where we shake hands.

- Thank you for your hospitality, Lucy says.

- It was a pleasure. We’ll be in touch in a few days.

One last goodbye, and we’re outside. I’m happy to take a deep breath of fresh air. I was starting to feel suffocated.

- Well, that’s that... Lucy murmurs. Do you want a hot chocolate? My treat. We can talk about the interview while we’re at it.

- If you’re being so kind, I can’t say no, I say, making her laugh.

I wasn’t going to tell her, but if I could skip a few hours of school, I was happy. It was clear I’d rather spend time with my friend.

Monday, March 14, 12:00 p.m. - Cafeteria.

Our little outing ended at a small café downtown, where Lucy had a coffee and I had a hot chocolate. I realized that Lucy hadn’t even touched the hot drink she’d ordered during the interview. We had a long discussion about it. Mr. Fields' answers were satisfactory, though Lucy still thinks he’s taking advantage of me. She believes he wants to make me work like low-paid employees. Yet, he’d sold the position to me pretty well. Maybe a little too well... She might be right. She explained that she’d already fallen victim to one of those companies before and doesn’t want the same thing to happen to me. I agreed. It was, after all, my only response. It would be foolish not to wait for the other offers now. So, we agreed to wait before giving an answer. Lucy plans to ask Beth for her opinion and to put some pressure on her to use her connections. I don’t like doing that, but at this point, I had no choice. Mr. Fields was right when he said I applied late... I might not get many positive responses, and that thought is starting to scare me. We went back to school afterward. We arrived at 11:30. Lucy didn’t push me to return to class. She wanted me to have lunch with her, but I declined the invitation. Meals are the only time I’m sure to be with my friends, so if I took that away from them, it wouldn’t go over well. She understood and let me spend my half-hour working in her office. I managed to finish my homework and I think I’ll skip my revisions tonight. It’s good to take breaks sometimes.

- Oh, you’re already back?

- Hey, I greet Alexia, whom I was waiting for at the cafeteria. Yeah. We got back half an hour ago.

- Cool! So, how did it go?

- Meh... I’ll explain later, I say as I see our friends approaching.

- OK... she says with a small pout.

- I’ll be around tonight, so we can talk then, I reassure her.

- Really? she says, surprised.

- Yeah. My homework’s done. Plus, Bronze thinks I’m working too much. She says I look tired. She wants me to take it easy.

She’s not wrong... We’ve barely seen you these past two weeks.

I shrug. Losing myself in my revisions allows me to forget everything else, in a way. It’s an escape like any other. Knowing Lucy, she must have realized it’s becoming an obsession.

- You’re not going to start, right? I replied with amusement.

- Oh no, she said, raising her hands in surrender. I said it, but I’m not saying anything.

- Of course, I chuckled. Anyway, I just wanted to say I’ll be there tonight.

- Really? Alessia, who I noticed was on my other side, asked. And what about your interview? It was super long, wasn’t it? You’ve got a morning to catch up on now. But be happy, you missed a surprise test from Johnson. He was upset because no one informed him about your absence after you left during second period. I think he wanted you to take the test.

I groaned in frustration. Johnson was the least of my worries right now. I hadn’t thought about the catch-up work. Skipping three hours of class had been nice until then.

- Damn, I cursed. Do I have a lot to catch up on?

- No, don’t worry. We got a lot of handouts, so I took them for you. I even got ahead a bit for you while I was at it. That way, you won’t try to dodge us tonight.

She nudged me with her shoulder, laughing. I smiled, picking up my tray to follow Ale to our table.

- That thought hadn’t even crossed my mind, you know, I joked. Thanks anyway, that’s really kind of you, I said. Do you think I’ll have to make up the test? What was it on, by the way?

- I don’t think so. It was on the last lesson. He felt like a lot of people were distracted recently, so he wanted to put everyone back in line. It was on those charts. You know what I mean, right? I think you understood it.

- Yes, yes.

- Well, look at you, becoming a pro, Ale teased.

- I wish, I sighed. I’m still far from it, unfortunately.

- Don’t say that. You’re doing really well.

- It’s only thanks to my revisions and Bronze’s help, otherwise, I’d be drowning.

It feels strange to say my girlfriend’s name. It’s like I have to think twice before speaking. Even though a lot of people already know, I wouldn’t want everyone at the table to find out. That would be quite dramatic, almost scandalous.

- Oh right, Alessia continues. We also got the date for the field trip after you left. Bronze didn’t tell you?

- Uh, no, I frowned. When is it?

- Next Thursday. The questionnaire he gave us is due by Monday at the latest.

I let out a heavy sigh. What a great time to hand out a questionnaire like that. We’re already so overwhelmed. We’ve got six weeks left, which means three before the next break. We received our exam schedule and convocations last week. Our exams will take place at the end of May. That’s why I’m putting so much pressure on myself. The serious stuff is finally happening. We’re in the final stretch, and it’s terrifying. If I fail, all my efforts will have been for nothing.

- Great, I muttered.

- Oh, come on, it’s not that bad. I took a look at it, and it’s mostly general questions about the company. There are also two or three management questions. Anderson said those would be the points discussed during the trip, so it’s important to fill it out properly.

I nodded, my mind elsewhere. Come on, just a few more weeks to get through... There’s so much pressure. Not to mention the anxiety about my future. What a mess! I really hope I can hold on until then because I’m slowly starting to feel overwhelmed. If there’s one thing I’ve gotten used to this year, it’s the stability Lucy has brought into my life, and I’m determined to do whatever it takes to keep it.