His Queen
✨His Queen✨



Short drabble I wanted to write because I am unwell for this man…
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: Your first time with the King of Hell, and he might be even more nervous than you are~
(I don’t even have a set up for this, I’m diving in head first like I would for Lucifer. This is just porn without plot 🤷🏻♀️)
Tag list: @trashbin-nie
@yellowsubiesdance
@j-jinxee
@stevensdickrider
@airwolf92
@mrssabinecallas
@myhornybrainonlyknowsthis
@bee-sinner
@thesoccerenthusiast
Warnings: 18+, smut, humping, pet names, oral (m & f receiving), fingering, p in v, service top!Lucifer
NSFW below the cut, minors DNI
All throughout, the only thing that could be heard in Lucifer’s home was the sound of your lips crashing into his relentlessly. Your nightgown draped over his legs while sitting in his lap for at least an hour now, on his throne, no less. You’re breathless, your lips are swollen, and you can’t get enough. You haven’t pulled apart in what seems like an eternity, Lucifer moaning into your mouth as your tongues intertwine. However, you’ve become increasingly more aware of the bugle that’s growing between your legs. Ever so slowly, you start to rock your hips back and forth. Lucifer instantly freezes from the sudden sensation, inhaling sharply.
“I’m sorry,” you apologized sheepishly, “I didn’t mean…”
Lucifer cut you off with another kiss before you could finish your sentence. “Please don’t stop, love,” he whispered.
Blood rushes to your cheeks from hearing those words. You felt Lucifer’s hands travel down the sides of your body, stopping at your hips. You start rocking your hips again, eliciting such sweet moans from him. He was so sensitive and you knew it, you knew you could make him putty in your hands and that excited you!
“F-Fuck, sweetheart…,” Lucifer moaned, “this is…this feels amazing.”
One of his hands slid down your thigh at an agonizingly slow pace and you continued your motions. His hand stopped when he felt the soft cloth of panties. He tried to hide his small smirk from you, but you caught him. You knew the fabric must have been wet, and it’s clear from his reaction that he noticed too.
“May I, my angel?”, Lucifer asked softly. You nodded your head wordlessly. You stood up almost too quickly as Lucifer reached for the hem of your panties. You felt them get dragged further and further down your legs until they finally touched your feet and hit the floor. You resumed your potion, straddling Lucifer once more.
He reached down to press his fingers at your folds for the first time. You felt your face heat up, it was something you’ve been wanting for so long. Lucifer exhaled heavily, his painted cheeks flushing a different shade of red. You could feel his hand trembling against you.
It’s been a while since he’s been intimate with anyone, Lilith had been gone for so long. Lucifer had been so alone during that time, never pursuing another lover. Until you, of course.
Noticing his hesitation, you brought your hands to his cheeks, cupping his face. His shining red eyes stared into yours as you leaned in for another kiss. “It’s alright, Luci, take your time,” you soothed him.
“Thank you, love,” he smiled. After a deep breath, Lucifer finally began to tease your entrance, running his fingers up and down your slit. You grabbed onto his shoulders as if you were hanging on for dear life. His thumb found its way to your clit, circling it slowly. You couldn’t help but let out a moan. His fingers began to push up into you, thrusting them in and out of you at an even pace.
You rested your forehead on the crook of his neck, your cries were stifling and your checks were burning. “O-ohh my God, Lucifer, you fee-feel so good.” Lucifer placed his lips on your neck and began to bite and suck every inch of it. Your knees were becoming weaker and weaker, you felt a tightening in the pit of your stomach with every motion of his fingers.
But suddenly, Lucifer removed his fingers from you, making you whine in protest. You pulled your head up to ask why he stopped, but it became very evident. He brought his fingers to his mouth and began to suck on them. You pushed your face back down into his shoulder to hide your reddened face.
“Mmmm, you taste absolutely delightful, darling, ” he murmured in your ear. “I need more.”
Without warning, Lucifer scooped you up in his arms and carried you to his bedroom right across the hall. You always forgot how strong he was considering his stature, but it never failed to amaze you. Once he reached the side of his bed, he laid you down as gingerly as possible, positioning your head onto his pillow.
“Wait,” you said, pulling yourself upright and positioning yourself on your knees. You reached for Lucifer’s shirt and began to unbutton it hesitantly. Lucifer said nothing, only nodding, letting you continue your work. His face became flushed once more, you couldn’t help but smile at the way you made him feel. Almost prideful. Almost.
You made your way to the last button and gently push his shirt off his shoulders, letting it hit the ground. He was beautiful, his pale skin was mesmerizing like a marble statue. But he was warm, very warm, you noticed as you ran your hand down his chest. “Beautiful…,” you said to no one in particular. But Lucifer had impeccable hearing.
“My love, nothing compares to your beauty,” Lucifer sighed. “I want to devour you. Please, let me see you?”
With some hesitation, you reached down to the bottom of your nightgown to pull it up over your head. Your body now laid bare before him. You went to cover yourself with your arms, but Lucifer held your wrists before you could.
“Don’t cover yourself, darling,” he pleaded, “you’re the most intoxicating creature I’ve even had the pleasure of laying my eyes on.” He leaned into you again and planted a passionate kiss on your lips, you couldn’t help but moan into him. He pulled away, looking longingly into your eyes. But only for a moment. His eyes couldn’t resist trailing down to look at your chest, his face turning beet red.
“My eyes are up here, Luci,” you said jokingly.
“Forgive me, sweetheart,” Lucifer apologized and snapped his head back up to look at you once more. You chuckled and pulled your hands away from his loose grip to grab his instead. You placed each of his hands on your breasts, almost making Lucifer lose his composure. “So soft…,” he murmured as he began to softly knead at your skin. “Lay down on your back for me, love. I only had a small taste of you, I have to have more…”
You gulped hard, doing as he says. You untucked your legs from under you and rested your head against his pillow once more. You stared at the ceiling, too embarrassed to think about what was happening. You felt Lucifer’s sharp hands on both of your knees, snapping you out of your trance and forcing you to focus on him.
“Open up, angel,” Lucifer asked sweetly. Whenever he spoke like that to you, it was impossible to say no. With a shaky breath, you part your legs, exposing your glistening pussy to him. Lucifer’s shaky breathing echoed in his large bedroom. “S-Shit,” he choked out, “forgive me for this.”
Lucifer’s head fell between your legs in an instant, his hands resting on the inside of your thighs. You let out a strangled yelp at his tongue began to lick up and down your wet folds. Fuck! It felt better than you could have imagined. His tongue darted in and out of you, his lips vibrated against you and he moaned and hummed from lapping you up.
“L-Lucifer, f-fuck ohmygod!,” you cried out. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear,” he responded coyly. You could feel a smile creep across his face as he continued to eat you up. Lucifer took one of his hands and placed two of his fingers right by your entrance, it was almost painful waiting for him to put them in you. “I need you to cum for me, I’m not stopping until you do,” he whispered before plunging his two fingers into your ruined cunt once more. That alone almost sent you over the edge. He began to pump his fingers in and out of you, faster and faster, while his tongue tortured your clit. He continued at a relentless pace, never giving you a chance to relax. Your mind was beyond foggy, you couldn’t even tell him to stop even if you wanted to. Which you didn’t.
“Luci…L-Luci I’mgonnacumFUCK,” you nearly yelled. The tightness in your stomach was threatening to snap. You gripped his soft and silky blond hair as he brought you to the very edge.
“Promise?,” Lucifer responded while pushing a third finger inside of you.
That was it, your head snaps back and a breathless scream escapes your lungs. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train. You feel your walls start to pulsate around his fingers which refuse to slow down. Lucifer devours the mess your soaking pussy made while letting you ride out your high. You finally come back down to earth (so to speak) and are able to breathe again, beads of sweat pooling on your forehead. Lucifer retreats his fingers from you and takes one last taste of you from his now cum-soaked fingers.
“Mmmm, fuck sweetheart, never tasted anything more enticing than you in my entire existence,” Lucifer praised. You brought your hands to face to cover up your cherry red cheeks. His words never failed to make your head fuzzy.
“Luciferrrrr,” you whine playfully, “you can’t just say things like that!”
Lucifer chuckled, “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you, love.”
You propped up onto your elbows. Lucifer had straightened up and was now on his knees in front of you. Your eyesight trailed downward and it was obvious how hard he was. His cock painfully straining against his pants. He noticed your stare sheepishly looked away.
“Your turn,” you said as you crawled towards him, only stopping an inch away from the large bulge he had in his pants. It lit a fire in you. It was his turn to be devoured.
“Y-You don’t have to do that, hon, I’m alr-”
You cut him off by placing your hand on his clothed cock. Lucifer immediately tensed up. “You’re right, I don’t have to,” you said looking up at him with ravenous eyes, “but I want to.” You heard Lucifer audibly gulp. “On your back, Luci,” you coerced.
Lucifer nodded and did as you said. He made his way to his pillow and laid down, holding his breath. You began your ascent, crawling and hovering over him. He looked so adorable beneath you. Your hands made their way to his belt, pulling it off in a flash with a clank to the floor. The button and zipper were next. Carefully you undid both with ease. You reached for the hem of his white pants and eased them down his legs. All that remained were his briefs. And my God, they left little to the imagination.
It didn’t occur to you until just now that you’ve never seen Lucifer’s dick before. It drove you wild just seeing the outline of it. He was huge. You bit down on your lip without thinking, Lucifer looked away from you in embarrassment. It was then that you noticed the large wet spot on his briefs from his leaking tip. He was an absolute mess, all because of you. A wonderful sight to behold, for sure.
You couldn’t wait any longer. You reached up to pull down his briefs, setting his cock free at last. It was impossible to look away, you knew you had to eat him up immediately. His dick continued to leak precum onto his stomach, Lucifer’s hands gripped the sheets beneath him as he watched you inch closer and closer to his cock. You placed your hands on either side of it, massaging everything around the one area he needed you to touch. He bucked his hips up at your touch impatiently.
“Please,” you heard Lucifer beg, “pleasepleaseplease!” The sounds of his desperate pleas sent waves of pleasure through your body, it drove you mad. Not wanting to torture him any longer, you took ahold of his cock and placed his tip into your hot mouth. You heard a broken moan escape from him as you lapped and sucked on the head, licking up every drop of precum that had leaked out. It was salty, but you didn’t mind. He tasted divine.
You began to bob your head up and down on his shaft, taking in as much of him as you possibly could. You knew you would choke otherwise. Your one hand remained on his hip to keep him from bucking up into your month while the other hand pumped his cock in tandem with your mouth. You figured it might be fruitless to try and hold him down since he could overpower you in an instant, but you knew he wouldn’t ever hurt you.
You saw that he was unraveling quickly, but you didn’t want this to end so soon. His staggered breathing and wanton moans were music to your ears, you’d do anything to keep hearing them. You trailed a long lick up from the base of his shaft to the head were you peppered a few kisses. One of Lucifer’s hands flew to his mouth to keep himself from being any louder than he already was while the other white-knuckled the bed sheets. It was an absolute dream to see the King of Hell be undone by you.
You felt him throbbing in your mouth, you knew he was close. But all of a sudden, two hands flew to your shoulders to push you off. “Wait, wait, wait!,” he pleaded as you let go of him completely.
“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?,” you asked ashamed.
“No, no! Of course not,” he reassured you, placing a hand under your chin. “You…fuck, you felt so good, my love. But…”
You didn’t even know what happened until you were on your back now looking up at Lucifer hovered above you. You noticed his eyes had turned a haunting red and yellow, with black slit irises piecing your soul. His horns had burst from his head with torn flesh wrapped around the base of each, adorning his snake-shaped halo with a burning flame below it. His angelic wings sprouted out from his back, enveloping the entire bed in shadow. His tail had popped out as well, whipping back and forth behind him as if he were a predator on the hunt. You were his prey.
“I’m having a really hard time keeping it together, darling,” he spoke quietly, almost ashamed at his lack of control. His more demonic form caught you off guard, but you weren’t afraid. You smiled at him, reassuring that you were alright. He smiled back, showing off his large sharp teeth. It made you shiver. God, you wanted him. And you wanted him now.
“I-I need…shit…c-can I…,” Lucifer fumbled over his words, struggling to form a coherent sentence. You cupped his face in you hands and planted a soft kiss on his lips. You reached one hand up to stroke one of his wings, curiosity getting the better of you. You could have sworn it was the softest thing you’ve ever felt, you were entranced. Lucifer let out a low hum, his wing leaning into your gentle touch.
“Yes, you can, Lucifer,” you murmured into his lips. “Fuck me now, please, I need you…”
His composure broke completely. His lips crashed into yours with a vigorous force. You wrapped your hands around his neck to bring him as close to you as he could possibly get. You felt the head of his cock graze your entrance. You whimpered at the sensation. Lucifer looked at you expectantly, only for you to silently nod your head.
All you felt next was his cock sliding into your pussy until he was fully sheathed inside of you. It took a few seconds to remember how to breathe again. He stretched you out, filling up every inch of you completely. Lucifer couldn’t help but bite down on your shoulder, desperately trying not to cum right then and there. After only a moment or two of getting used to his size, your body started to relax around him.
“Please move, Luci,” you moaned.
Lucifer retracted the grip his teeth he had on your shoulder and placed his forehead onto yours. Ever so slowly, he started to shift his hips, taking his cock out just to pump it back into you at a rhythmic speed. But of course it didn’t take long for him to pick up the pace, his thrusts becoming more and more staggered and uneven.
You could have sworn you were seeing stars. Or perhaps it was the light bouncing off the tears forming in your eyes. It was a pleasure you’ve never felt before. You felt whole. That new knot in your stomach was tightening once again, and was threatening to release with more force than before.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Lucifer whispered, clenching his teeth and screwing his eyes tight. “Gonna cum, love…gonna cum, FUCKFUCKFUCK!”
Quickly you wrapped your legs around his waist, making sure he stayed in place. “M-me too, sshhhiiit,” you managed to choke out. “Cum in me, pleasepleasepleasecuminmeLucifer!”
Those words made him incoherent. He held your hips down as he thrusted into hard and fast. At last, you felt him throbbing inside of you, emptying his load into your waiting cunt. You screamed as that sensation pushed you over the edge as well, your newly painted white walls pulsating on his cock.
Both of you could hardly catch your breath, your orgasms finally fading away. He stayed inside of you for only a minute longer before pulling out. Your body mourned that sensation already. Lucifer fell down next to you in the bed, his demon form receding. You watched as his chest rose and fell at a slow and even pace. He turned towards you and smiled, he tucked some hair behind your ear that had fallen in your face.
“Thank you for that, my angel,” he spoke softly. “You were perfect.”
You couldn’t help but smile. You scooted your body closer to him, nuzzling yourself into his chest. Still so warm. “No,” you said, “thank you, Lucifer. That was heavenly…no pun intended!”
He chuckled. “Funny you say that considering where we are, my little duckling.” He grabbed you by the waist and ever so gently placed your body on top of his. He let his wings spread once more, wrapping them and his arms around you in a soft and tender embrace. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”
You smile and gave Lucifer one last small peck on the lips before your body collapsed from exhaustion. “I love you more, my king.”
~~~~~

I’m not seeing the pearly gates after this one, lads!!
But please let me know what you think of my very first NSFW fic, I was nervous about writing about something I’m not well versed in 😅
I had fun though and that’s what matters!
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just wanted to write a little something of our boys vying for your attention. alastor’s attempts can be seen as both platonic or romantic! pls credit me if you use these gifs <3
requests. mlist. < contains my other gifs and works!
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“It’s a gorgeous night, isn’t it?”
Lucifer propped his elbow on the bar, his cheek rested on the back of his palm as his eyelids dropped to half mast. A large smile greeted you and you nodded in response.
You absentmindedly brushed down your red dress, held up by two spaghetti strings on both shoulders that were barely visible. You sipped the last of your drink.
“It’s a beautiful night, Lu.”
Lucifer had taken you to a high class bar on the other side of the pentagram and away from the hotel for a bit. He’d been wanting to take you somewhere special for a while now and you knew you shouldn’t have been impressed by the fact that he knew that doing anything with you within the perimeters of the hotel would have caused an outburst. But tonight wasn’t about that.
A modern gold chandelier glistened as its hanging gold cylinders swayed to the wind’s command. The bar had almost stunned you with the pristine glow that traveled like a bullet train all across the counter.
Lucifer opened his mouth to speak, but jumped at the buzzing sound of his phone vibrating. “Oh, sorry, Charlie texted, I’m sorry beautiful—”
“Lucifer,” you gave a composed chuckle. “You’re allowed to respond to texts. What happened to ‘a casual night out’?”
Lucifer’s gaze softened, shoulders sinking as he gave you a warm smile. “It’s hard to be casual around you, you know that?”
You shook your head as you returned his smile. “Go text your daughter.”
As with many fine dining and bar establishments, there was the occasional clatter of utensils every so often but it was drowned out by the idle chatting of the other couples in the bar. Many of the women dressed in something eye-catching like sequins. The dress Lucifer had gifted you to wear tonight was made of silk, and had its own way of making your cleavage both modest and revealing with the way the fabric made many crescent shaped folds just above your sternum.
“Ma’am, for you.”
“Oh, I didn’t order another—”
“It’s from one of the other gentlemen across the bar,” the bartender interjected, though still managed a polite tone as he continued to hold the drink towards you.
“Which one?”
He looked over at a man with a glowing red aura and a toothy grin.
One look at that pinstripe overcoat was all it took for your lips to curl into a sheepish smile.
He seemed to mirror you, sealing his lips together to make a less intimidating smile, but that was just your personal guess, even if the efforts proved to be rather futile in your opinion. But it didn’t matter as Alastor looked his dapper best even if nothing much had changed about his appearance, and judging from his excellent posture and smug side glances at your date, he knew this, too.
You looked over at Lucifer, but he was hunched over with his phone under the sparkling white bar, still texting Charlie.
Alastor nodded to you, crossing one of his legs over the other. He picked up his brandy glass and leaned it in your direction, as if to cheer to you from a distance.
You picked up your own as well, your smile sliding higher in your cheeks before he put his own glass to his lips.
He cocked his head to the side as his eyes zipped to the back of the bar and back at you.
Your shoulders tensed as both your elbows were now on the bar, with one of your hands sliding around the base of your nape.
“I hope that was on my tab,” Lucifer said in a lowered voice as he leaned his shoulder towards you, nearly making you jump out of your seat.
You chuckled nervously. “It’s … it’s not mine.”
Lucifer frowned as he straightened his posture. “Whose is it?”
Your eyes widened for a split second before you muffled your sigh with your palm, elbow still firmly planted on the gleaming counter. You swirled your drink in idle motions. “Some gentleman from the other side of the bar.”
Lucifer’s chin shot up from the crowd and you swore you could almost hear beeping as he scanned the room for anomalies. His pivoting gaze came to an abrupt halt a few seats away from one corner of the square-shaped bar.
“Alastor?” Lucifer deadpanned with a voice deeper than it had been before. He raised a brow at you and it took you a moment to take a mental deep breath at the fact that … there had been a lot of things going on at once.
There was something in Lucifer’s eyes you could tell had been used to handling the fire that was often ignited within them. You could almost see it tonight. Almost. You saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, and his hand found its way to his empty glass.
“Yes,” you confessed softly.
“Oh, honey,” Lucifer cooed, head tilting as his stone demeanor deflated. “May I?”
His hand reached for your glass. You were barely touching it to begin with so when you pulled away by instinct, he swiped it away and turned towards Alastor.
He scowled as his glare stiffened on Alastor’s own. The radio demon’s signature grin returned at Lucifer’s attention and only stretched crooked and sinister as Lucifer took the drink into his throat, gulp by slow gulp.
He slammed the brandy glass down, licking his lips as he turned back to you, ever the gentle, silly man he was. It had almost been like he hadn’t just chained a man to a wall with his stare alone.
“Tell him I said thanks,” Lucifer sterned.
You glanced back at Alastor, who just shut his eyes and gave you a languid shake of his head.
“Well, this bar just got too crowded,” Lucifer beamed, his voice returning to its usual cheery cadence. He intertwined his fingers together and gave them a good stretch, then hopped off his seat and bowed before you to offer his hand. “I know a better place for us to … indulge on this beautiful night.
“Shall we?”
You took his hand and in one swift motion his hand sat snugly on your waist, almost like both you and the dress had made a lucifer’s-hand shaped hole for him to fill.
As you left the bar with Lucifer, you pretended not to notice that he turned back to Alastor one last time. You also pretended not to notice the ‘V’ he made with his fingers to his lips, his forked tongue slipping through the gap.
hazbin + leaving them little love letters~!
with Alastor, Lucifer, Sir Pentious, Angel Dust, Husk, & Vox!
You think you're being sooo sneaky leaving all these sweet love letters for your favorite guy. You're not. They 100% know but if they'll do anything about it is another question entirely.
tags: gn!reader! but implied male/masc reader for Angel ofc :3 mostly fluff!! mildly suggestive in Luci's & Vox's, slight angst for Angel, mention of alcohol consumption in Husk's! Alastor being his usual self lmao
a/n: I wanted to start with something (mostly) cute! Trying to get back into writing. ^^` it's been quite some time since I've written any sort of fanfic!

Alastor
You must think you are quite the clever little thing, leaving such sweet notes around for anyone to find. Little letters you think he doesn't know come from you. His shadows haunt every crevice aware of all that goes on within the hotel's interior, and especially those that dwell within his radio tower. It is amusing watching you slither into his abode to leave yet another sweetly decorated note on his control panel while Alastor lurks within the darker corners of his tower. Scarlet eyes soaking you in like a lion hunting a gazelle.
Then, like smoke, you slip out the hatch and down the ladder towards the hotel as quickly as death. Trying to seem casual, whistling an off-key tune.
Curious, he grins. What a curious creature you are, hmm? He picks the letter up, his red claw caressing the crease of the seal. His name stares up at him, written in exquisite cursive and emboldened red ink he wished was blood.
With a single claw he slits open the top of the envelope with the precision of a surgeon's scalpel, withdrawing its contents that had piqued his interest. Immediately, his smirk widens. Positively Cheshire-like.
"My, my, darling. You are endearing, I hope you know that!" Alastor cooed with crackling static. He traced his finger along the penmanship.
He pictures you hunched over your desk fretting over such a delicate piece of stationery. Your words oozed admiration for the Radio Demon. How truly touching! The sentiment was most definitely mutual. Next time, he'll be sure to catch you in the act, little lamb.
Lucifer
The King of Hell was quick to move in upon Charlie's insistence. Eager to make up for lost time with his daughter, he takes on all sorts of tasks and attends every event she has planned. Every team-building exercise, there was Lucifer at the forefront; lest his rubber duck depression returned.
Initially, he's quite confused by the sight of a white and gold foiled envelope placed neatly on the center of his pillow when he returns to his quarters to rest. He's never seen his name written with such care. The scent of love and genuine fondness exudes from the small parcel and tempts his senses. It catches him off guard, a puff of hot air escaping his lips, blinking owlishly.
He's lightheaded as he reads the letter with one hand braced against the wall beside him. An apple-red blush coats his cheeks and creeps down his neck. The scent of you clouds his mind and corrupts his thoughts. He's starting to feel dizzy yet oh-so-happy!
You... You wrote this didn't you, sweetling? Red eyes wash over the page. He closes his eyes and presses the letter to his lips as he leans his back into the wall. It's surely from you, but why didn't you just come and talk to him instead of being all mysterious and cryptic? Has he not made his affections for you clear enough? Perhaps you were shy and felt more confident in staying anonymous.
Lucifer couldn't promise you or himself that he wouldn't go and find you immediately after he calmed down enough to be well-composed in a public space. He was practically vibrating with excitement.
Shaking out his hands and jumping in place, Lucifer straightens his tie. If all goes to plan, he'll have you snuggled in his warm embrace as he flies over Pentagram City before sundown.
Of course, he will make sure all six of his massive wings are preened and looking their best first. Hey, he is the King of Hell after all! He's gonna show off for you a little.
"Alright, darlin', I hope you're ready for a night on the town." Lucifer sucked in a sharp breath and exited his room swiftly making his way to you.
Sir Pentious
Sweet man is so flabbergasted! Surely this is a prank, yes? No? Oh my, then that must mean--! His pupils dilate and water, a big cheesy grin sneaks across his cheeks. His tail swishes behind him lightly and it's hard to fight the blush off his cheeks. It takes everything in him to collect his breath as he clutches the letter to his chest.
"What'cha got there, boss?" Points out one of his Egg Bois. Sir Pentious all but squeaks and shoves the paper unceremoniously into his breast pocket.
Pentious rasps, "No-nothing that needs to concern you!"
"Oh, okay!" Chirps his Egg Boi, waddling off.
Sir Pentious sighs, slitted eyes wander over to where you sit at the bar engaged in deep conversation with Angel and Husk. There's a weird tug in his chest he's never felt before. A longing. You catch his eye and give a gentle smile and offer him a tiny wave which he returns eagerly. He sighs dreamily, coiling in on his tails. I hope I may catch you at a more opportune time, my heart.
Angel Dust
Whenever he's had a particularly rough night at Valentino's, Angel retrieves a pastel blue shoe box from deep within his closest, almost completely filled to the brim with letters, gifts, and keepsakes you'd given him. Even the silly little half-assed doodle you made of him as a spider. He saved it all.
You're so cute, thinking that you're all anonymous when you are absolutely not, leaving him the cutest fuckin' letters that make him want to explode. It's nice. Having someone want you and not for sex. The pure heart of gold of yours was gonna be the double-death of him.
Angel hasn't quite worked up the nerve to ask you out yet. It's something he ponders every day, especially when reading your newest letter. He feels too stuck, too... Fucked up. That's not something he'd wanna put on you. You've never treated him like anything but a person. You saw the real him.
Instead, he lives for your letters. Wishing things could be different, that he could find the power to cut the contract with Valentino, and truly become yours when he's no longer that fucker's pet.
His eyes well with tears as he cradles your latest letter, praising him for how well he'd done at Charlie's little team-building experiment. He pretends it's you that he's holding. His fingers combing through your hair, smiling to himself when you lazily lean up his body to kiss him ever-so-softly. A true kiss made of real love, not lust. You snuggle into his chest fluff with your arms around his waist.
"Baby, I," with a blink, Angel is back to reality. The weight on his chest had only been a snoozing Fat Nuggets. Angel sighs, stroking his little buddy's ears. "Maybe one day, I can be strong enough for both of us, baby." He says out loud, hoping your heart will find his words.
Husk
He's quick to snatch the new letter up before anyone else sees, sending his half-drunk whiskey all across the countertop with a clang. Husk cussed under his breath, stashing your thankfully dry letter beneath the bar for safe-keeping until he could read it later.
"Why'dja gotta leave it out in the open?" Husk grumbles without malice. The playful sway of his raised feathery tail and soft hum as he wipes up his spilled drink was always a good sign of his rare, pleasant mood.
You're growing more and more bold with each letter. Leaving them places where someone other than Husk could accidentally misinterpret them: Charlie.
The last thing he needed was the well-meaning Princess of Hell to overextend herself and start playing matchmaker. Husker was doing just aces on his own. His love life was his and his alone to fuss about. He finished cleaning up the bar for the night, keeping the booze secure in its display case until the following day.
Husk peruses the letter freely in the privacy of his bedroom, one arm folded beneath his head. His golden eyes flicked from word to word. His pupils expand as he exhales an airy chuckle, lingering on the word handsome. The sound of his own trill rumbling in his throat startles him enough to drop the letter and slam his elbow into his nightstand.
Hissing, Husk pressed his palms against his shut eyelids. "Fuck, baby, ya really got this ol' cat comin' undone, huh? Sneaky little minx." He lied back down with a huff. "If only ya knew." His eyes slip shut. Tomorrow. Husk would finally approach you tomorrow.
Vox
"I see you still don't wanna text these, huh, baby?" Vox scoops up the letter taking residence on his seat, hastily clawing it open. He plops down on his chair, leaning back. "Too shy to be so vulnerable for me?" Vox's sharp-toothed grin spreads wide across his display screen, red dripping from the corner of his mouth as he hungrily drinks in your words.
"You are too fuckin' cute, aren't'cha, darlin'?" Vox chuckles, smashing his fist against his console with triumph. A bolt of electricity spirals around the system, causing him to yelp as it spans across the entire city. He created another blackout. "FUCK."
Vox is at your doorstep in a matter of minutes despite the darkness of Pentagram City. The forever-flushed red sky is light enough to find your apartment building. He's dressed in a new suit and feigned ignorance when you opened your door, holding a new letter. Surprised to see him there. Hah, caught with your hand in the fuckin' cookie jar, babe.
Allowing him into your home, Vox easily towers over you with a big grin. You looked fuckin' adorable, staring up at him so meekly.
"You didn't need to hide your feelings from me, sweetheart." He gently tilts your chin upwards. A single cyan claw grazes the line of your jaw, sliding to cup your cheek with his full palm.
"Vox, I," you stammer. Your sentence goes no further than those two small words. Vox traces your lower lip with the tip of his sharp thumb, smiling as your eyes flutter shut. He waits to see if you continue to speak and when you don't, he nods and tugs you to him by your hips. You gasp against him and he smiles, a bit softer now.
"I know, baby. I've gotcha," Vox's mouth presses tight to yours, lifting you up further into his arms for better access. Electricity soon ignites the house and city, Velvette must've gotten things running again.
--
Hope you enjoyed it!!

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

these boots WEREN’T made for walking | m. izuku
cw: father! izu, reader and izu have two kids.
-reader and a pair of uncomfortable boots she begged for. if you all have seen friends, it’s based on that one time monica bought those expensive ass boots she could barely walk in lmao
“you’re not going to wear them,” izuku stated plainly, mouth forming a thin line as you held up a flashy pair of high heeled boots, much too tall for what you usually wear.
“am too. they can go with that dress i just got,” you smiled proudly, turning to scan the different sizes to accommodate for your own feet.
“that dress, yes, and what else?”
you paused your hand on one of the boxes, pursing your lips to think for a second but you were drawing serious blanks. you knew better than to look his way since he was probably raising those thick eyebrows of his, giving you that damned knowing look that always made you cave.
“what do you know about fashion anyway, deku?,” you huffed, squealing in victory when you saw they indeed had your size in stock.
it wasn’t that money was an issue, even if the boots were a whopping four hundred and fifty dollars, plus tax, but he knew you well. every time you got fancy shoes you wore them about two times max before chucking them somewhere in the depths of the closet to never again be seen with as a matching set. even you not wearing them wasn’t his biggest concern, you always chose shoes that hurt your feet, gave you horrible blisters and aches. it was a sad sight to say the least when he caught you limping around in his peripheral.
“i know that by the end of the night in those, you’re gonna be pouting for me to give you a piggy back ride because your feet hurt.”
“nope, you’re wrong,” you were busying yourself with pulling one of the boots onto your foot, zipping it up the calf and gaping in awe at the way it sucked you in like a glove, “these are extremely comfortable. i love them…god if i could marry a shoe.”
izu held up his hands in surrender, not that he was going to fight long on the topic of giving you whatever your heart desired. he aimed to please, liked watching you smile.
he had to give you your props, almost every day you had managed a way to worm your new boots into your outfits. you were stubborn, sometimes enough to even best kacchan, and you were determined to prove you could milk the money’s worth out of these boots. izu chose to pick his battles, even when he came home from a tiring day of hero work just to see you vacuuming the living room in heels. it was cute, really, how hard you tried to make your point, and he let it play out without rebuttal. truth of the matter is, you were starting to hit your peak, heels burning and ankles aching from the amount of times you had twisted them from tripping when your husband wasn’t around. you’d hate for the bastard to be right, he was always so smug when he was. so you put on brave faces and strutted around in your prize, until you were out of eye sight so you could wince in peace.
there were bruises forming on the knuckles of your toes, cramps taunting your soles every time you flexed your feet too graciously. it was getting about that time for these death traps to hit the back of your closet. you just hated the idea of giving izuku the satisfaction of his win, that and you didn’t want to put his hard earned money to waste. it was a constant nag in the back of your brain. you knew he’d never tell you no (not really anyway) and he had spoiled you heavily with the fruits of his labor from the moment the currency started pouring in. it was why you couldn’t help but ask for things, and he wanted you to have everything, even if he teased you about it being a ridiculous purchase. but anxiety was still a bitch. you had to show these shoes love, it was like- in your mind- being extra grateful for his generosity.
your final straw was a long walk in the park. foolishly you had slipped on the horrid boots, they went well with your attire. izu warned against it, told you it sounded like a dumb idea when you were going to have to chase your three year old down, but you only shut him up with a kiss, giving him a twirl to show off your outfit. park days were rare, but when the family could get a chance to go out, izu pushed for it. he hated extended periods of time away from you and the two little ones, aika and a beautiful baby boy, nix. he wished he never had to leave or at least that he could shrink his perfect pack and put them in his pocket for safe keeping.
it was nice outside, the coos of spring rolling in, flowers blooming and spreading their plumes of pollen into the air. you were taking a well needed rest on a bench, shaded by the bright green rooftop of a gazebo. your feet were screaming from the confines of your shoes, but you bit back complaints as you pushed the two seater stroller back and forth. your son was sleeping soundly, tiny fists clutching onto his teether for dear life. just a few feet ahead on the playground, your tall tree of a husband was pushing at your daughters back, sending her way higher than you would have liked on the swing set. the little one seemed to love it though, screaming in delight as perfect green curls flowed in the wind. she enjoyed his strength and his supernatural abilities, it only meant getting to be spun around or pushed high into the sky in a rickety swing set, a height many three year olds would probably have a fit at. though maybe it was just her love and admiration for her papa, she knew even at a young age, he’d never let her fall. nothing was scary when izuku was around.
perceptive as ever, izu cast you a look as if he could feel you staring. he greeted you with a dimpled grin and a wave to which you giggled. he was such a dork and it always amazed you how easily that switch could flip when he was in the midst of battle.
when aika grew tired of all the playground had to offer and was clipped into her side of the stroller, already dozing off and quiet, you and izu marked it time to head home. except, the long way home seemed like a hike through hell now that your feet were throbbing and swollen, still, you stood from the bench your thighs were glued to, outwardly whining. you stumbled slightly, catching ahold of your husband’s bicep with a huff.
“love, just take off the boots already.” his voice was stern, guiding you to sit back down, kneeling before you like a knight off duty.
you pouted, “i’m fine, ‘zu, let’s just go-“
“y/n. now.” he patted his thigh for your heel to be kicked up on, using his ‘father voice’ no less.
you did as told with each foot, watching as he careful undid the boots, sliding them off and tossing them into the stroller pouch. you slumped in relief, cool air from outside feeling so nice on your clammy skin. he sucked his teeth in disappointment at the sight of your battle scars, shaking his head at your stubbornness.
“i can’t walk home barefoot, babe.”
he gave a slight turn, offering his back to you, “don’t be dense. i’ll carry you home. hop on.”
it was probably a sight to see to others that the number one hero was walking the length of the sidewalk with a double stroller to his front and his wife clinging to his back like a feral koala. you had you face nuzzled in his neck, taking in the honeyed pine scent of his shampoo, legs wrapped snugly around his waist. he wasn’t even struggling, or breaking a sweat for that matter, just walking as if he was carrying nothing more than a backpack. another marvel of his strength.
“you know,” he started, voice vibrating through you, “i was only giving you a hard time about the shoes. i didn’t actually expect you to wear them so much.”
you absentmindedly toyed with the small chain around his neck, it seemed almost dainty on him, but it was so beautiful with the way your named was carved in cursive on the base.
“i didn’t want them to go to waste…you paid so much for them.” you didn’t mean to sound so dejected, but it was the truth, “i wanted you to know i actually do appreciate all you do.”
he chuckled softly, “silly girl. i know you do. just the way you should know i love gifting you things. i can’t think of a better use of my money.”
“still. it was an awful lot for a pair of boots.”
“baby. if i could, i’d buy you the whole milky way wrapped in a silk bow, even if it meant you would only look at it once. your happiness is the only repayment i need.”
your ears heated from his words, unable to respond. you chose to tighten your arms around him. so he continued to speak.
“gifts, money, hell- i’d give you every organ i have in me. nothing i do is transactional. you’re worth every penny.”
“you’re such a sap.” you choke out, cursing your hormones for the tears brimming your eyes.
“by association. i think that makes you a sap too, yes?”
“no. no just you, broccoli top. just you.”
you were totally a sap when it came to izuku midoriya.

fruit bats: @neon-gothicc @bakubunny @bookcluberror @kunigamisgirl @dizazter-dragoon @jazzafayesworld @cherriluvs35 @dreamcastgirl99 @pastelbakugou @ladybirdk @i-literally-cant-with-this @darkstarlight82 @maddietries
CALLING THEM "DUDE"

gn!reader | oikawa, akaashi, suna, atsumu, aone

OIKAWA, predictably, lets his jaw drop and acts as if you’ve broken up with him. he teeters between draping his entire body over yours and whining, or crossing his arms and huffing while turning away. calling you dude feels foreign on his tongue, an insult to you, in tooru’s mind. but he’s nothing if not a little petty, and will call you it until you apologize.
“thanks, dude.”
tooru freezes, plate of cut up fruit in his right hand that mere moments ago, he pictured he’d be feeding you. but now—“dude?”
off the court, he’s nothing but predictable. you bait him with a smile. “yeah?”
“no! what- you called me dude! me?!” tooru holds his free hand to his chest.
“tooru—”
“oh, now i’m tooru? sorry, only the love of my life can call me that and be fed fruit from my personalized platter, bro i don’t know.”

AKAASHI cares a little—it feels kind of awkward and he finds himself overthinking the term. but once he’s comfortable, he can tell if it’s just something you say or if you’re messing with him, in which case he’ll have a knowing smile as he refers to you as his friend. but if he’s tired, he’ll drag out the bit just long enough to make you regret it.
“you okay, dude?” you ask as he finally comes out from the washroom, ready for bed.
keiji doesn’t respond, the pout on his face and his slow steps speaking for themselves. he climbs into bed, curling into your side and draping an arm over you.
his breath is warm against your collarbone. “no, dude. i think we need to stop capitalism. can i have a hug now?”
wrapping yourself around him, you place a kiss on his head, hair more ruffled than usual. “i’ll collapse capitalism for you.”
“you’re the best, dude. love you, dude.”
“keiji, please.”

SUNA doesn't really care. the times rintarou 'takes offense' are for a bit, and he sounds amused the entire time. if you don't care either, he'll call you “dude” himself and means nothing negative about it. this isn't to say he won't call you "baby" or "babe" or even "hon," but he—in his words—considers a large nickname vocabulary to be diverse and for the better.
"what the fuck are you talking about, dude?" you laugh.
rintarou rolls onto his back to look at you as you rest against the bed's headboard.
he squints at you and frowns—the look of disbelief on his face isn't at the term, but your reaction. "you're supposed to get me like no one else as the love of my life."
you raise an eyebrow. "maybe you should try making more sense?"
"i'm gonna 'dude-zone' you until you take that back."
"rin—"
"what, dude?"

ATSUMU instinctively responds as if you were osamu, not used to hearing the word in your voice. as soon as it clicks, he's as offended as you'd expect him to be. it becomes nonsensical bickering as soon as you act offended, until you're both laughing and ‘apologizing’ to each other.
“dude, where is my towel?”
“huh? i dunno, why would i touch your nasty ass towel?” he asks, eyes honed in on the game on his monitor.
you blink, and a moment passes before atsumu pauses and whips around. “wait, ‘dude’?”
his expression mirrors yours as laughter builds in your stomach. “what the hell did you just say to me?”
“y’just called me dude!”
“my nasty ass towel?”
atsumu’s own words finally hit him and he stutters, “babe- wait- i thought you were ’samu—”
“samu?!”
“wait—”

AONE’s gotten so used to you calling his first name, or using terms of endearment that he thinks he’s done something wrong. his anxiety doesn’t last long, not when you take a look at his hesitant expression and posture while he works up the courage to ask about it. he wishes it didn’t bother him so much, but he admits that he’d like having a special name, or just his first instead.
“hey, dude, can you pass me my charger?”
“...huh?”
“my charger? it’s next to the couch by your feet,” you explain.
takanobu’s brows furrow as he quietly picks it up and hands it to you. he wonders if he’s imagining things when you shoot him your regular smile and thank him.
a few minutes go by, and it’s nowhere near unusual for the both of you to sit quietly together, but he hasn’t sat comfortably since you asked for your charger. moving closer, you apologize and hold onto his arm. “’m kidding, ’nobu, just wanted to see your reaction.”
his body relaxes as the both of you lean into each other, and he smiles, albeit a little embarrassed. “that’s good to know.”
“...i like your nicknames for me more.”

my new tag list form if you'd like to be tagged! ^^ sorry old tag list. love u.
@dira333 i know u like aone.. i don't write for him a lot but He is here. thought of u. and @reverie-starlight u r of course my local tsumu fan. YAAAY!!!
Secret Notes and Misunderstandings - Sugawara Kōshi x Reader
Pairing: Sugawara Kōshi x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: fluff Word Count: 3 420 Warnings: Use of y/n, Tanaka and Noya Summary: You receive secret notes from someone. If only they were from your crush Suga A/N: I’m not really happy with the style of this one…
Masterlist

It had to be every schoolgirl’s dream, receiving cute notes written by a secret admirer, pushed into her locker every morning. And the notes were cute, they really were. Never creepy or offensive, just sweet.
It had started almost a month ago. One morning you had opened your locker, only to find a small note fluttering out. Not recognizing it, you had unfolded the paper that seemed to have been ripped from a Kanji exercise book. In an unfamiliar handwriting, using what seemed like a fine 0.3mm black ink pen, a few words had been scribbled down, making a smile pull at your lips.
“I’m too shy to tell you this in person, but your presentation on the United Nations yesterday was crazy good.”
You had folded the note back together, and placed it in your pencil case, where it made you smile every time you glanced at it.
“You’re in a good mood today,” Sugawara, your classmate, had grinned when he had passed you during lunch break on this way to the sink.
You had shrugged, your heart beating faster when you had realized that Suga had addressed you. The feeling that ran through your body at every interaction with him was so different from the feelings the note had sparked, so much better.
The notes had started that day, and there had not been one day of school since then, that there hadn’t been one shoved into your locker in the morning. Over time they had gotten more personal, leaving less and less doubt about the author’s attraction to you. He (and you knew it was a guy by the words he used), was never offensive or creepy, just plainly sweet, complimenting the hair clip you had worn the other day, or sometimes even admitting how he wished he would be brave enough to talk to you normally, without these notes.
And the more he revealed his own thoughts, his own insecurities and wishes, the more he revealed of his heart, the worse you felt. The notes were cute, sweet, and normally you would have been dying to know who went through all the effort just for your sake. Maybe you would have been trying to find out who it was and asked them out, just because you felt like after all the effort he had made, he deserved you take a risk too.
But no matter how much you wanted to feel excited and honoured by these notes, there was still Suga. Suga who was in the same class as you and your mysterious admirer, Suga who was working hard in every subject, who helped the other students when they struggled, who laughed loud and unashamedly in the breaks, who’s smile was warm like summer sun beams, even when it was only late February. So really it was Sugawara’s fault, you thought to yourself, that you couldn’t reciprocate the feelings these notes conveyed. If it weren’t for your stupid, stupid, unrequited crush on him, you’d have tried to get into contact with the author of these notes weeks ago. But your heart was hopelessly hung up on someone else, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself to let these feelings go.
So, when you stared down on what had to be the boldest note yet, you felt a little sick.
"I've been trying to work up the courage to ask you to sit with me for lunch for weeks now, but every time I think about getting up and asking you, I get so nervous that I can't even think properly anymore. Maybe I’ll ask you tomorrow. I want to make salmon onigiri, I know you like those. What do you think?"
The nervousness of the author as he had written these words and then pushed the note into your locker was basically seeping out of the paper into your hands, pleading you to be as nervous about him as he was about you. But instead, you knew he was just setting himself up for heartbreak. This had to stop. Now. You had allowed this boy to bring up his hopes for far too long now. You had to end this. Even if it would hurt him. Even when you would feel awful for breaking his heart. But it was better to end this now than to have him work up the courage to face you and then tell it into his face.
Although he did deserve a gentle let down, he didn’t deserve to torture himself before it. So, after your last class, you ripped out a page of your notebook and grabbed one of your pens. During class, between paying attention to the teachers’ words and the way Suga was bouncing his leg under the table on the other side of the classroom, you had mentally prepared what you wanted to write.
“Dear friend, thank you very much for all the notes over the past weeks. I have enjoyed reading them, but I’m sorry to tell you that I can’t reciprocate your feelings. I already have someone I like, and it wouldn’t be fair to let you keep hoping I will return your feelings. In fact, I should have told you this a lot sooner, and I’m sorry for the pain I’m causing you now. Let this be the last exchange.”
You had been tempted to add words of reassurance or comfort, but you were worried they might make him hope against hope that you would eventually return his feelings. When the last class was over, you used a thin strip of washi-tape and stuck the note to your locker so it was blocking the little gap in the door. This way the note couldn’t possibly go unnoticed by whoever had sent you the others.
The next morning rolled around, and you were almost nervous, when you took off your shoes and placed them in the rack, going to your locker to grab your books for the day. The note you had stuck to its door the day prior was gone, and you already feared someone else might have removed it, but when you opened the locker, no new note came sailing out. You were almost a little disappointed. But you had asked him to stop writing, so you had gotte what you wanted. This was for the best. Let him be disappointed or maybe even a little heartbroken, and by next week he would have moved on.
When you entered the classroom, you found, much to your surprise, that yesterday’s note hadn’t been the last. Instead, someone had placed two wrapped onigiri on your table, and a note underneath. Up until now, the paper had always been torn neatly out of notebooks, the signs evenly paced and written with precision. This time, even though it was the by now familiar handwriting, the page seemed to have been ripped out in haste, the words smeared over the paper, smudging the ink.
“I already made these, and I thought you should have them. If you don’t want them, leave them on the desk during lunch break and I’ll take them back. This is my last note. Thanks for your honesty.”
You bit your lip, staring down at the paper. You could tell his hand had shaken when he had written this note. While nervousness had seeped out of the other notes, this one seemed to ooze pain. He’ll get over it, you thought to yourself, over me.
Quickly you crumbled the note in your hand, pushing the onigiris to the edge of the table, not intending to eat them. With a few steps you made your way to the paper basked, discarding the final note of your secret admirer. On your way back to your desk, your eyes skipped over to where Suga was sitting, as always when you got the chance.
He sat backsided on a chair, arms crossed over the backrest, chin propped on his lower arm. He had taken off his jacket, leaving him in the short sleeved, white button-up of the uniform. Warm spring sunlight flitted in through the window, catching in his silver hair and making it gleam like star light. He looked angelic, you thought to yourself. Even though Daichi was telling him something, and laughing at his side, Suga barely seemed to listen, his gaze absentmindedly directed into the distance. He looked pale, you realized, pale and tired. Hopefully he wouldn’t get sick in the last weeks of the school year.
Suddenly his gaze drew away from wherever he had stared of to, and directed itself to you instead. You felt like your heart almost stopped at the way his coffee brown eyes bore into you, and feeling your cheeks heat up, you lifted your hand to wave at him with a smile. Instead of returning the gesture, he only seemed to tense, before tearing his eyes away from you and sitting up, saying something to Daichi instead.
Confused at his unusual reaction, you walked back to your seat, sitting down. The onigiri in front of you seemed to mock you, and far more frequent than usually your gaze flickered over to Suga during the day. His mood didn’t seem to better though, and in fact it grew only grimmer when he caught you staring at him once.
You were not the only one who seemed to pick up on his unusual behaviour, because as the bell rang for lunch break, you overheard Daichi ask him if everything was okay. Suga only answered he was fine, even though he sounded upset and annoyed, but the rest of the conversation got drowned out by the voices of other students.
Like every day, you left the classroom at the beginning of lunchbreak to refill your bottle at the water fountain in the hallway. Today you made sure to take an extra few minutes; hopefully giving the author of the notes you had received enough time to retrieve the onigiri from your desk. And sure enough, by the time you returned to the classroom, they were gone.
The rest of the day went by without any other incidents, unless one counted Suga’s terrible mood. Even across the classroom it seemed to rub off on you. Originally you had wanted to pay closer attention to the other boys, trying to see if anyone’s behaviour differed from usually which might give them away as the author of the messages, but instead your focus was entirely on Suga and what you could do to cheer him up.
When the last class ended, and you still hadn’t thought of anything useful to say to Suga, you just opted for a wave and a smile, as you usually did, bidding him goodbye before heading off to your club. But unlike all the other days, he ignored you completely, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and your heart heavy.
It was already growing dark outside when you hasted through the corridors of the school again. Your club had finished only a few minutes ago, when you had remembered there was a book you needed for homework, so you were on your way back to the lockers. You had almost reached them, when suddenly the voices of two students made you stop.
“He explicitly said not to get involved,” the one nagged.
“But have you seen him? Can you really just stand by and watch him suffer like that,” the other voice replied.
Carefully you snuck around the last corner, finding two boys standing in front of your locker. Even in the dim light you could make out the one’s buzzcut and the other’s unruly hair. They were both in the year below you, you realized, and members of the volleyball team, teammates of Suga’s. The one with the unruly hair was trying to push a piece of paper through the gap below the door into your locker.
You were about to ask them what they were up to. After all, neither of them couldn’t have been the one writing the notes you had received; that person was in your class. You knew that from the references to your classwork he had been making.
“You know, he’s gonna hate you when he finds out you got involved.”
“So what, let him hate me! As long as he gets his girl! (Y/n) just has to give him a second chance!”
“Who am I supposed to give a second chance,” you asked out loud, stepping out from behind the corner.
The two boys jumped in surprise as your presence, the one with the unruly hair, quickly hiding a piece of paper behind his back.
“Well, you see, the thing is our set-,” he started, immediately receiving a harsh nudge from his friend.
“And what were you trying to push into my locker,” you added. Usually you were not very intimidating, but being a year older than them had its perks: they had to respect you. Demanding, you held out your hand.
The boy with the blond streak in this dishevelled hair shot his friend a side glance before stepping forward and dropping the paper into your outstretched hand.
“Have you been the ones putting notes into my locker,” you asked.
“Yes, well, no. Maybe. Sometimes,” the boy with the buzzcut answered. Tanaka, you remembered.
“What is it now. Have you or have you not?”
“Sometimes,” the other one – Nuka? Nayo? Noya? Oh yes, Noya was his name – answered. “Sometimes we delivered them for our friend, when you had club late and there was the chance of you running into Su-“
He got interrupted by another shove between his ribs. He coughed.
Biting your lip, you twirled the paper between your fingers. You could find out who had sent you all these notes, you realized. You just had to ask now. Tanaka would probably be quiet, but Noya seemed eager to make you like whoever had sent them to deliver them. But did you want to know? Did you really want to go to class tomorrow, look at the person who had written these notes and pretend you didn’t know?
“Please,” Tanaka interrupted your thoughts. “Can’t you give our friend a chance? We know you like someone else, but you’ll forget about that guy in no time, I promise! Our friend is like- he’s the best guy there is really. He’s smart, and patient, and funny-”
“Charming, good-looking, athletic,” Noya continued. “A little chaotic sometimes maybe, but he has like the biggest heart-”
You shook your head. “Listen guys, Tanaka-kun, Noya-kun. I appreciate your effort and I know you just want to see your friend happy, but as I already wrote him: there is someone else I like, and it wouldn’t be right to let your friend hope that my feelings will change eventually. That’s just not fair.”
“But you should’ve seen him today during practice,” Noya continued. “He was not himself! He was devastated! And Suga’s ready to let you walk away because he respects you, but I- we think-”
“Wait, wait,” you lifted your hands in the air, signalling him to stop talking. Your heart was racing. “Say that again.”
“He respects you and-”
“No, you said his name,” you disagreed.
The boys exchanged glances.
“He’ll kill you,” Tanaka mumbled to Noya.
“Did you say Suga,” you asked.
Their silence was answer enough.
All this time you had wanted Suga to notice you and all this time it had been him who had sent you these notes? And then you had rejected him? Was that why he had been so pale today, why he hadn’t smiled at you today? Because you had rejected him, not even knowing who you had rejected? Your heart dropped and the floor felt like it was giving way beneath your feet. You had to fix that. Somehow you had to fix this stupid, stupid situation.
“Do you have a pen?”
Tanaka rummaged around in his pocket, before handing you a blunt pencil. You took it anyway. Unfolding the paper you had taken from Noya, you placed it against the closest locker, flipping it to its empty side.
“What’s Suga’s favourite onigiri filling,” you asked, glancing at Tanaka and Noya from over your shoulder.
“Salmon,” they answered at the same time without hesitation.
You furrowed your brows. “Are you sure?”
“We talked about it just the other day,” Tanaka assured you.
“He said, he likes them because you like them,” Noya added. You exhaled slowly, trying not to laugh. This sounded so much like something Suga would say.
Putting the pen down, you began writing.
“Noya and Tanaka ranted you out. Don’t be mad at them, I made them tell me. Let’s eat lunch together. I’ll make salmon onigiri, I know you like those. We can eat outside under the plum tree. The blossoms are your favourite, aren’t they?”
Quickly, before you could change your mind, you folded the paper, and pushed it into Suga’s locker, making the two boys exchange wide eyed glances.
“What did you write,” they asked excitedly as you returned to your locker to retrieve the book you had come here for.
“Are you giving him a second chance?”
“You’ll see,” you answered with a smile.
The next morning, Suga was already sitting in the classroom when you entered, like he did every morning. When he saw you sitting down behind your own desk, he quickly exchanged a few words with Daichi, before walking over.
Pink was dusting his cheeks, the colour almost matching that of the plum blossoms outside. He was nervous, you could tell, fiddling around with a piece of paper between his fingers. Watching him walk over, your own pulse spiked. Yesterday you had been filled with confidence when you had written the note, but today it all seemed unreal. That was until he dropped the small piece of paper on the desk in front of you, leaning against the table.
For a moment you looked up at him, his chocolate brown eyes nervous but also filled with warmth as he glanced down to you, then you reached for the paper. He had rolled it into a tight scroll, probably an act of nervosity while he had waited for you. For the first time the note didn’t contain any words, only a doodled Smilie. The smile on your face was instantaneous, and quickly you looked back up to Suga, who was full on blushing now.
“I know, I said I’d stop it with the notes, but…” he shrugged bashfully, making you laugh quietly.
“No, that’s okay,” you let him know.
“I do gotta ask though- not that I’m complaining, just curious – what changed your mind?”
He’s still smiling, but you could hear the insecurity in his voice as well.
Inhaling deeply, you settled for the truth. “Turned out the guy I rejected was actually the guy I was rejecting him for.”
Suga just furrowed his brows in confusion.
“What I mean is,” you shuffled in your seat a little, wondering if the words would come any easier if you sat differently or if Suga weren’t nailing you to the chair with the intensity with which he was considering you now. “You’re the guy I was talking about in that note, the person I like. I didn’t know you were also the person sending me these notes.”
Finally, the last bit of hesitation seemed to melt away from Suga. “Lucky then, that I like you, too,” he teased, making your heart stutter and his cheeks tint an even deeper pink. “Sooo, are we eating lunch together?"
You nodded. “I made onigiri, like promised. Is salmon really your favourite filling?”
Suga laughed. “Yeah, it is. Always has been, since I was little.”
He was about to say something else, but was interrupted by the teacher, calling the beginning of the class.
Quickly he pushed away from your desk, winking at you mischievously. This Suga was so very different from the disappointed, heartbroken Suga from yesterday. You knew exactly which one you preferred. He turned around and hurried back to his desk, but not before dropping another note to your table, this one folded several times.
As the teacher began the class, you quickly unfolded the paper under your desk, reading the few words Suga had written down. This time they were a lot neater than the note he had left with the rejected onigiri the day prior.
“I mean it. I really like you too.”
And underneath he had drawn a tiny, almost hesitant doodle of a heart.
