Secret Notes And Misunderstandings - Sugawara Kshi X Reader

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.

a winning bet. ( robert chase x reader )

It was apparent to those who paid enough attention that Chase had feelings for you. Whenever he was distracted or particularly quiet during a diagnosis House would tease him about the 'sexy trauma surgeon,' and Chase would refrain from saying anything while Cameron and Foreman snickered. Neither could believe that you would ever date him.

Two months ago, neither did he, but here you were, enjoying lunch at a restaurant a short distance from the hospital. You covered your mouth as you laughed, placing your glass on the table.

Chase shook his head, "I'm serious! It's constant. I'm sick and tired of hearing about how we would never work out."

You took his hand, smiling softly. "We're working out great, aren't we? Who cares what other people think?"

Chase smiled slowly, "Well, yes, but - don't you think we should, you know? Tell people? It's been two months."

"Then they'll be cracking jokes and making innuendoes." You told him.

Chase moved his hand away, and you sighed when he sat straighter in his chair. "You don't want to tell them."

"Of course I do - "

"Then what's the problem?" He leaned forward, arms resting on the table.

"What if things don't work out? What if we let the world affect this little bubble, it bursts, and we hate each other? I don't want to hate you. I love you."

His eyes widened, a smile forming on his lips. It was the first time you had ever said I love you. And although he felt the same, he was worried that you wouldn't. House had a habit of getting into his head at the worst of times, and lately, he was living there rent-free.

"I love you too." He said, holding your hand. "And I want to be able to show it without the sneaking around."

You smiled bashfully, "I thought you were ashamed of me or something. I didn't want to lose this."

Chase looked at you seriously, "I would never be ashamed of you. And it was nice. Just us. But I want more." He squeezed your hand, and you smiled.

"Me too."

The following Monday, you entered the hospital, hand in hand, and you smiled when he kissed your hand, feeling your grip tighten due to the stares. "I'll see you at lunch." He told you. You smiled when he kissed your cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too." You headed in opposite directions, knowing that everyone would be gossiping about you and Chase within the hour. But as you changed into scrubs, you realized there was an even greater thrill in outing your relationship than hiding it. You knew every nurse who gawked over him daily was envious of you, but you knew they only cared about his looks. Chase saved everything else for you.

You looked up from your paperwork, your smile turning into a confused frown when House took your pudding. "I lost fifty bucks because of you."

Your eyebrows furrowed, looking at Chase for answers when he appeared. "They made bets on whether we got together or not."

You nodded, looking at House with a grin. "Only fifty?"

He glared at you, though you knew he was amused as he walked away. Chase shook his head as he sat down. "Do you want to go for dinner? It's on me." He held up at least a hundred and fifty in bills, a smirk on his lips.

"You bet on us too?"

"Yeah. After we got together." He said, making you laugh.

Chase smiled, pocketing the money and taking your hands across the table. "How about dinner, wine, and a movie?"

You smiled, "Perfect." You told him.

"Just like you."

"Cheeseball." You smiled when he kissed your hand, smiling fondly as you tried to remember what you had been so worried about before.

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — James and Reader go to a medical conference together and are forced to share a room, but after one bad night's sleep a prank war is waged

WARNINGS — a stripper? porn mentions? ig?

NOTE — Okay for this one I gotta shout out @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey for helping me work out some kinks with the ending and providing the middle picture, but I really love how this turned out and I hope you guys like this silly one shot as much as I do

“Jesus Christ you drive like a grandma,” you yawned, dragging your suitcase through the hotel doors. 

“I don’t drive like a grandma; I drive the speed limit,” James asserted and you rolled your eyes. 

“We would have been here ages ago if you’d let me take the wheel.” 

“No we would have been in body bags,” James retorted. “Come on, it’s late, let's just check into our rooms and get this over with.” 

You nodded in agreement and made your way over to the singular receptionist, informing her you had booked two rooms in advance under both yours and the hospital's name.

“Um, I’m only seeing one reservation here,” she said. “This is for the medical conference right?” 

You both nodded your heads, confused as to what could be happening. 

“If you don’t have another one under the hospital do you have a spare room? Anything will do, we can just expense it,” James suggested. 

“Unfortunately not,” the lady shook her head. “We’re fully booked. There’s just the one room.” 

You pursed your lips and looked over at James with a frown before turning your attention back to the receptionist. 

“So you’re telling me not only did I have to drive with grandma here all the way from New Jersey, now I have to sleep with him?” 

“I wish there was something we could do, maybe you can get your hospital to contact the hotel to get credit or some reimbursement.” 

“I think I’ll need psychiatric care for this, but thanks for the offer,” you said sarcastically, picking up your bag and moving away, letting James take care of the rest of the check in. After a few minutes, he came up to you and handed you a hotel key, pointing to the room number on it. 

“Psychiatric care? Was that really necessary?” he asked. “And you’ve slept on the couch in my office, this cannot be that bad.” 

“Yeah, but you weren’t on the couch with me genius,” you rolled your eyes. “This is gonna be a long few days.” 

“You’re telling me,” James raised his brows as you entered the elevator together. 

Once you got to your room, as if sharing wasn’t bad enough they put you in a cramped one with a queen sized bed. 

“I’m gonna choose to ignore the glaring close proximity of this space and go get ready in the washroom. Any objections?” 

James pressed his lips together and shook his head saying he’d get changed out in the room while you were in there. 

You took your time, so you’d have some excuse for acclimating yourself to your sleeping situation. Brushing your teeth and caring for your hair and skin made the extension of time a little easier to justify. When you were finally changed and completely ready, you unlocked the door and stepped out of the washroom watching as James’ eyes widened at the sight of you. 

“What is that on your head?” he pointed. 

“It’s a bonnet,” you said simply. 

“A bonnet? Like, as in baby’s bonnet?” 

“No,” you shook your head, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “A bonnet as in a hair bonnet so it doesn’t get frizzy when I sleep?” 

“And what’s that on your teeth?” he asked, noticing the other interesting contraption you had in your mouth. 

“A mouth guard, James, seriously are you gonna ask me where I got my pyjamas next?” 

“You talk with a lisp when that thing’s in your mouth,” he pointed as he walked past you to the washroom.

“Yeah, thanks Captain Obvious,” you rolled your eyes and moved over to the bed, pulling back the blankets and slipping underneath the covers. 

You glanced at the clock and saw the late time, figuring it was probably a good idea to get some sleep since you’d have an early morning. How naive you were. 

It took James less than ten minutes to be done with what he needed to do in the washroom before he came to join you and it took even less time for him to fall asleep. 

And with sleep came the most monstrous snores you’d ever heard. You weren’t sure how much time had passed but it could have been an eternity of you staring up at the ceiling, your eyes twitching, wishing for sleep, but unable to rest while laying down next to a fog horn. 

Eventually you figured your best bet was to either suffocate yourself or James with a pillow, but settled instead on using it to cover your ears. 

When the sun peeked through the curtains and you could feel James shift next to you, you turned around to watch him closely while he woke up. 

“Good morning?” he yawned and looked at you with a hint of confusion. 

“Yeah, maybe for you,” you scoffed. 

“You look like hell,” he commented, noticing the tiredness in your eyes and sluggishness of your demeanour. 

You didn’t say anything, simply throwing the pillow in his face before getting up and pulling off your bonnet and mouthguard. 

“Where are you going?” James asked. 

“I’ll see you at breakfast,” you waved at him and grabbed your hotel key and a coat, not bothering to change out of your sweatpants before leaving the room. 

James spent the rest of the morning a little confused by your actions, but he put it behind him and instead took a quick shower, getting dressed, brushing his teeth, and shaving before heading downstairs for the hotel’s breakfast. 

It was there that he ran into you, still in a sleep t-shirt and sweatpants with a large jacket overtop. 

“Where did you go?” he asked, walking up to you. 

“To get you these,” you threw him a box and he caught it with a slight fumble before looking down to see what it was.

“Nose strips? Why?” 

“Because you snore louder than my maternal grandfather mixed with a foghorn. That’s why.” 

James looked offended, “I do not snore,” he insisted.

“You think I would look like this if you didn’t, Wilson?” you pointed to yourself. 

“I’ve had three wives, I think one of them would have told me about this,” he said. 

“Well maybe you developed sleep apnea, I don’t know,” you threw your hands up in the air. “Just use the nose strips and go to the sleep clinic when we get back to New Jersey. Wouldn’t want wife number four dealing with that.” 

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he said, shoving the small box in his pocket. 

“I couldn't care less, I am running on zero hours of sleep so what you are gonna do is get me something to eat so I can take a shower and pop back three caffeine pills and hope for the best.” 

James didn’t have much of a chance to argue with you so he listened, making you a breakfast sandwich and wrapping it in some napkins before moving to go eat his own food. 

When you came back downstairs, you looked a lot better. James assumed the shower had helped a little bit with waking you up, but getting through a whole day of seminars would be tricky. 

“You feeling better?” he asked, handing you the sandwich. 

“I will after I drink this,” you held up an energy drink, but James quickly snatched it from you, reading the caffeine content. 

“How many pills did you take?” he asked. 

“I don’t know like four?” you said. 

“You can’t drink this, you’re gonna have a heart attack,” he said, throwing the drink in the trash. 

“Wilson!” you whined. “That was my wake up juice.” 

“I’ve seen you pull an all nighter and then do back to back cancer patient consults, you’re going to be fine,” he assured you. “I have to make sure I get you back to New Jersey in one piece.” 

“That’s rich coming from the person who broke me in the first place,” you snorted and James rolled his eyes before nudging you and motioning for you to follow him into your first seminar room. 

You were greeted first by some of the people at the registration table as you grabbed your schedules and name tags, hanging them around your neck. 

“Are you planning on going to Dr. Joyner’s talk on this new joint treatment?” James asked, pointing to his schedule. 

“I don’t know, I just figured I’d follow you around everywhere,” you admitted. “You know I hate coming to these things, I only do it because I have to.” 

“I thought you were coming to support me,” he frowned. 

“Well, yeah that too I guess,” you waved your hand dismissively. “But otherwise Cuddy forced me to come so here I am.” 

“Well, I think we should go because it might be a good thing to introduce for some of our breast cancer patients,” he explained. 

“Whatever you say Dr. Wilson,” you sighed. 

Your disinterested nature was, however, somewhat of a farce. In reality you did think Dr. Joyner’s treatment methods had proven to be very successful and could be worth applying in your own practice, but if you seemed too happy and excited your eventual retaliation against James for your lack of sleep last night combined with him throwing out your energy drink would seem less justified. 

The talk was interesting just as you had predicted and you and James both took ample notes, planning to corner Dr. Joyner to get her information to ask further questions about how it might look to implement the treatment at Princeton Plainsboro. 

“I have to moderate a panel during the next block,” James said. “Do you want to come, or is there another session that interests you more.” 

“No I’ll come with,” you nodded, sensing this would be the time to seize your opportunity. 

It was simple, silly even, because sitting in the second row from the front gave you just enough cover to discreetly flip off James as he was talking, making him look at you incredibly confused and lose his train of thought. 

“Dr. WIlson?” one of the panelists asked. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yes, sorry,” James apologized, hoping the red tinge on his ears wasn’t noticeable. He continued speaking but kept looking back over at you, knowing he couldn’t do anything without a whole room of doctors seeing. 

You seemed to have distracted James enough for there to be a few embarrassing moments where he fumbled over his words, possibly thinking in his mind what he could do to get back with you, but drawing a blank and in turn getting distracted from his job of fielding questions for the panelists. 

After the session was over and you broke off for lunch, James came to find you only to see you had slipped away into the masses, all a part of your design of course. 

Knowing he would want an explanation for your behaviour you figured you’d grab your food first and sit down, waiting for him to find you. 

Just as you had predicted, he found you and pulled out the seat next to you, sitting down. 

“What the hell was that for?” he asked. “Is this still about the snoring? I told you I don’t snore.”

“Actually,” you said loudly. “This is about the fact that you gave me-,” 

James quickly rushed forward and covered your mouth, knowing whatever could come out of it would not be good so you fought back by stomping down on his foot, watching as he let out a loud enough yelp to cause some heads to turn. 

You removed his hand from your mouth and said, 

“The finger was for all the snoring, that was for my energy drink.” 

“You’re a child,” he winced in pain, holding his foot in his hands. “A child with a mean stomp.” 

“I’m just evening out the scales Wilson, don’t worry, we’re even now.” 

“Oh no,” he shook his head. “You better watch your back, this is not over.” 

You smirked, “Am I sensing we’re about to make this conference ten times more interesting.” 

“To stay on theme, you started it,” he stuck his tongue out and you grabbed it before he could pull it back into his mouth. 

“Don’t underestimate me, Wilson. You forget I have to sleep in the same bed as you. Nowhere is safe.” 

You let go and wiped your hand off on his shirt before turning back to your food. This is exactly what the weekend needed. Just a little bit more entertainment. 

You were on your guard for the rest of the day, watching James’ every movement, but nothing ever came. 

Even once you had made your way back upstairs to your room and were getting ready side by side in the washroom, there wasn’t even the simplest retaliation or splashing water on you from the faucet. 

“What’s that?” James asked, pointing to the container you were holding. 

“Oh it’s just a serum,” you shrugged. “You should try it.”

“I’m good thanks,” he shook his head and looked back at his toothbrush. 

You weren’t gonna take no for an answer. 

“Come on James it’s not battery acid,” you rolled your eyes, trying to squeeze some from the dropper on his face but he quickly covered himself and tried to push you away, but wasn’t fast enough to see your hand coming from the opposite direction, squirting the solution all over his face. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, while you grinned in victory, rubbing in the serum over his forehead and cheeks. 

“Why are you like this?” he asked. 

“I thought you knew, we’ve been friends for long enough,” you chuckled. “Come on, today was boring, let me have some fun and do your skincare.”

“And why should I trust you with glycolic acid near my face?” he asked. 

“Oh, someone knows their stuff,” you chuckled. “You should trust me because it’s like only 7% strength and won’t hurt you unless it gets in your eyes or mouth or you have a sunburn.”

James opened his eyes again and couldn’t help but smile a little when he saw how much fun you were having. If anything it would help take his mind off his big presentation the next day. 

“Alright, you win this time,” he said. “But don’t think I’m gonna make this a habit.”

“That’s what they all say, just wait, you’ll change your mind.”

You got him to lean against the counter, pulling out a few things from your makeup bag and then taking the next thing out putting some of the solution on your hands before rubbing it under his eyes and around his forehead. 

“Hey watch it,” he swatted your hand that looked like it was coming for his eye. 

“Oh stop, I was just trying to smooth out your eyebrows,” you squished his cheeks with your fingers. 

Next was an exfoliating scrub and you watched as he scrunched his nose at the feeling on his skin. 

“Stop being such a baby,” you chuckled. “It’s not that bad.”

“Yeah, well excuse me for not thinking this is the sequence of events that would occur when I heard we’d need to share a room.”

You smiled to yourself, “Me neither, but this is kind of fun. Like a sleepover.”

James rolled his eyes at your comment.

“Yeah for you maybe. It feels like my face is getting molested right now.”

“Stop being so whiny,” you flicked his cheek. “Now wash your face off.”

He happily obliged, getting all the gritty textured product off his face before letting you do the finishing touches. 

It seemed to be taking a while so James decided to ask, 

“Are you done yet?”

“I’ve been done for five minutes,” you chuckled. “I’ve just been rubbing moisturizer all over your face to see how long you’d let me go for.”

James glared at you with a small hint of amusement in his eyes before turning around to leave, escorted out by your giggles. 

You finished getting ready in the washroom, only coming out when you realized you didn’t know where your bonnet was. 

“Wilson, have you seen my bonnet?” you peeked your head out of the washroom and asked. 

Seeing it on the bed he grabbed it and brought it over to you, placing it on your head and over your eyes like an oversized hat. You lifted it up to get a better look at him, noticing he was wearing one of the nose strips you bought him alone with a pair of glasses. 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” you commented. 

“I don’t,” he said simply. “I wear contacts, this is just for the evenings.”

“The things you learn when you’re forced to share a room with your colleague,” you hummed while adjusting the bonnet on your head. After you were content with its placement, you went to join James in the bed, both of you taking a moment to really observe the other and all of their sleeping gear. 

“You know I thought I was high maintenance,” James noted. 

It may have looked like overkill, but it never felt like overkill when an eye mask and some ear plugs would give you a good night’s sleep. 

“Yeah, you still look like a grandma,” you retorted, mostly a comment on him doing the crossword in bed with his glasses perched lower down on his nose. 

Climbing into the bed you turned off the lamp on your side and lowered your eye mask, allowing James to continue his crossword while you slept. You wished him a goodnight with a yawn and figured that would be the end of it. And it was…until it wasn’t. 

— 

“Wilson, what the hell did you do?” you asked harshly, coming over to him at breakfast and holding out your ringing phone. “Non-stop since six in the morning!”

“You haven’t picked them up?” he asked. “What if it’s an emergency? You really should take care of that,” he said while serving himself some fruit salad. 

With the next ring you caved, wondering exactly what it was he had done and when you listened to the person talking on the other side your eyes went wide before hanging up the phone. 

“I need to change my number,” you said, shocked. “You put out an ad for me? What the hell did it say?” 

“Oh, I don’t know who did it,” he lied. “But I think I came across something that said: Call me to make your dreams come true. 100% satisfaction guaranteed.”

“Oh my God! Ew, ew, ew! Wilson that is messed up!” 

“I didn’t do it,” he continued lying. 

“Oh cut the crap,” you rolled your eyes. “You picked a bad day to retaliate. Remember, you’ve got your presentation which means I have the upper hand.” 

James looked at you warningly, 

“You asked for it, Wilson. Prepare to deal with the consequences,” you pinched his cheek and left to go and grab some breakfast and then deal with your phone company to try and change numbers. 

As if James was not already nervous for the presentation of his paper, you had just gravely upped the stakes. 

He was the first speaker of the day so he decided to get in early, only to see you chatting with one of the organizers. He quickly walked over to meet you, but before he got there you had shaken the organizers hand and a deal was sealed. 

“Ah Dr. Wilson, I just met your colleague here,” Dr. Mwanza smiled. “She just offered to do the introductions for you this morning.” 

“Oh, great,” he forced a smile, trying to seem pleased with the outcome, knowing it couldn’t be good for him. 

“You made the right decision, Dr. Mwanza. No one knows James here like I do,” you wrapped an arm around James’ shoulder and kissed his cheek, watching as he turned beet red from the contact. 

“Well, you two seem very close. I can’t see anyone more fitting for the job.” 

You smiled and waved goodbye and watched as the hall began to fill with more and more doctors. 

“You ready, Wilson?” 

“Not anymore,” he groaned and went up to the stage where his notes were, preparing himself for whatever it was you were planning on throwing at him. 

Within the next ten minutes, everyone had returned from breakfast and were sitting in their seats, waiting for things to begin. 

Dr. Mwanza handed you a microphone and you stood up on the stage, looking back at James who was wringing his hands in his seat. 

“Good morning everyone,” you welcomed and began introducing yourself. “I’m here today to introduce you to my colleague, Dr. James Evan Wilson, who has done some fascinating research on cancer patient care. Now since you guys don’t know James here like I do, I’ll stick to the highlight reel and then we can let him talk.”

There was a small chuckle from the audience before you continued. 

“James went to McGill for his undergraduate and then proceeded to do medical school at Columbia and then a specialization in oncology at UPenn. He’s worked at Princeton Plainsboro for the past ten years and is the head of the department while also simultaneously providing consultations for the diagnostic team. On a more personal level, he’s painfully single and looking for a real connection so make sure to corner him at lunch if you know what I mean.” 

James simply squeezed his eyes shut and prayed you wouldn’t say more, but it still kept coming. 

“But if snoring is a deal breaker for you, you may want to skip out on that. Anyways, I’ve probably embarrassed him enough for now, so I’d like you to join me in welcoming Dr. James Wilson.”

The room clapped and James used whatever energy he had left in him to stand up and move forward, taking the microphone from you with a glare and then fixing it to the stand on the podium while you sat behind him on one of the chairs on the stage. 

As much as James was embarrassed by your previous comments, at least you hadn’t undermined his work, so he used his best acting skills and began to share about his paper and all of the research he had been doing over the past few years. 

When his talk was finished there was a period for asking questions and you could sense James wanted to drag things out as long as possible so he wouldn’t have to deal with the fallout of your comments about being single. 

Either way, a break finally had to come and his presentation came to an end, allowing you to finally see the fruits of your labour. 

It felt as if for the rest of the day there was a line of people waiting to talk to James, granted a few had questions about his paper that they wanted to discuss further, but most were testing the waters to see if getting a date was a possibility. 

After maybe the 20th person had come up to talk to him, he finally started saying something else, seeing an opportunity to get back at you. 

He waited until you were around to put his plan into play, coming up to you and wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

“Wilson, what are you doing?” you asked. 

“Payback,” he whispered, kissing your cheek before turning your chin so you were looking back at him. Your foreheads were now resting against each other and he quietly whispered. “You forgot we have witnesses who’ve seen us go into the same room and I’m a very convincing actor. Now everyone’s gonna wonder why you told the whole room your boyfriend was painfully single.”

“Well played, Wilson. Game recognizes game. And just because you figured out a way to weasel yourself out of this, I’ll let you have it, no fighting back.”

“Good because I’d probably get a pretty bad reputation and then get reported to Cuddy for harassment otherwise,” he reflected. 

“Yeah, I’m not that mean,” you patted his cheek. “But as usual-,” 

“Watch my back, you’ve got something else up your sleeve. Well, so do I.” 

“Best conference ever,” you grinned and James chuckled at your childish attitude. He would have been perfectly content taking in the content like the other doctors, but he had to admit this was a lot more fun and you brought a pretty good challenge.

By the end of the second day, you had managed to figure out to route all of your calls to James’ phone, forcing him to deal with the problem he had created for you, but he had also come back just as hard by sprinkling glitter in your purse when you weren’t looking, and knowing when you were in a rush to find something you’d dump it all out on your lap creating a mess that would be a nightmare to clean up. And as if the glitter wasn’t enough he told anyone who would listen that you’d visited a strip club last night. 

You walked back up to your hotel room after having gotten separate dinners, (you had called in for James’ reservation and pushed it by an hour), finding it hard to fight a smile while he looked at you extremely annoyed. 

“I don’t suppose you had anything to do with my reservation,” he asked you in the elevator. 

“A magician never reveals her secrets,” you shrugged. 

“I had invited Dr. Joyner out to dinner, but I’m guessing you didn’t know that,” he said. 

“No, but that makes it ten times better,” you laughed. “God what did you tell her?” 

“I didn’t know what the hell was happening, what was I supposed to tell her?” he asked. 

“Well if it was a date you could have used it as an excuse to go somewhere more intimate than the most crowded restaurant this side of Boston,” you shrugged. 

“It wasn’t a date,” he said when the elevator doors opened. 

“That look on your face is telling me otherwise,” you pointed to his red tinged ears. 

“It wasn’t a date,” he repeated. 

“Why are you so set on convincing me it wasn’t?” you turned around and asked him before entering your room. 

“I-You-,” he cut himself off and shut his mouth. 

“Smart move,” you raised your brows and unlocked the door, pushing it open. 

“What’s all this?” James asked, stepping inside, noticing a few balloons and streamers along with a container and gift bag on the counter. 

“Okay, I might have pushed your reservation because I felt bad for embarrassing you on your big day.”

“You did this? I thought you had dinner plans?” he asked. 

“This was it,” you motioned to the room. “Well I had to go out to get some of the stuff and then I got lost and hungry so I got some food and then I did this.”

James walked over to the container and opened it, seeing a small cake inside that was decorated with icing and read:

Congrats on the paper Dr. Wilson

“Awe, well I guess you do have a heart,” James chuckled. “Thank you, this is really sweet.” 

“Come on, we’re roommates,” you shrugged. “It was nothing.” 

“Should I open this too?” James asked motioning to the gift bag. 

You nodded your head and he peeked inside past the wrapping paper chuckling when he saw what was inside. 

“I had to find a build-a-bear for that,” you explained. “I had a vision and I had a feeling no one else would be able to execute it.” 

“A grandma doctor bear,” he said, pulling out the stuffed animal. “It’s perfect.”

He placed the plushie down next to the cake and came over to give you a big hug, followed by a kiss to your cheek. 

“Even though we’ve been kind of in the midst of a really intense prank war I am still really proud of you,” you said while he was still holding on to you. “And you’re right, I didn’t come here because Cuddy forced me to, I wanted to be here when you had your moment, even though I kind of ruined it.” 

“No, you didn’t ruin it,” he assured you. “It wasn’t lost on me how you didn’t insult my practice or my intelligence, just my personal life.” 

“Yeah, cause that’s so much better,” you laughed, finally pulling away from the hug. 

“In this case, it was probably the nicest way you could have embarrassed me,” he tapped your nose with his finger. “And I’ve had a lot of fun, probably more fun than if we hadn’t started this ridiculous back and forth.” 

“So are you saying the game’s still on?” you asked. 

“Oh, definitely,” he nodded. “It’s not over until we’ve checked out of the hotel.” 

“And that is the best present you could have given me, you big snoring grandma doctor,” you hugged him again and he shook his head with a chuckle. “Now come on, let’s stop wasting time and eat this cake, according to the receptionist it's from the best bakery in Boston.” 

You grabbed two forks from the table and handed one to James while he took the cake and brought it over to the bed, holding the container in one hand while you both went for it and took large bites of the rich dessert. 

“This more than makes up for all the pranks, I’m gonna forgive you right now for all the stuff you have up your sleeve before you even do it.” 

“Sorry, what did you say?” you asked, your mouth full of cake, completely distracted by the dessert. 

“Nothing,” James chuckled and watched as you grabbed another big forkful and offered it to him. 

He tried to fit it all in his mouth, but you had overestimated his jaw capacity and he was only able to get so much in before the rest fell back into the container. 

You pressed your lips together trying to bite back a laugh at the sight of James’ overstuffed cheeks and it seemed like he was trying to do the same, only worse because he ended up spitting some cake crumbs on you. 

“Jesus, James,” you groaned with a laugh, wiping the crumbs off your face. “That was gross.” 

He retorted with a garbled response you couldn’t understand because of the food in his mouth and your confused features prompted him to swallow before speaking again. 

“I’m sorry, but you just shoved half a cake into my mouth,” he chuckled. 

“What happened to gratitude, I was feeding you, it’s a sign of love,” you exaggerated and so he copied your actions, getting a large piece on his fork and holding it up for you to eat, which you did much more masterfully than he did. 

“There,” he said. “Is that enough love for you?” 

“Plenty,” you nodded your head and watched as he placed the container down on the bed with his fork inside before reaching out for your face wiping some icing from beside your lips with his thumb. “Thanks,” you smiled, hoping he couldn’t feel your cheeks heat up slightly by his actions. 

By the time the cake was half finished, you both couldn’t eat another bite and decided to save some for your last evening in the hotel. 

After packing things up in the mini fridge, you began your routine for bed, watching as James stood in front of the mirror and carefully laid a strip across his nose before taking off his contacts and putting on his glasses instead. 

“What are you looking at?” he asked. 

“Nothing,” you shrugged. “You just look cute like that.” 

“Cute?” he raised a brow and looked over at you and you nodded. 

“Like a little kicked puppy.”

“That’s cute?” he now became concerned with your comparison. “Kicked puppies are not cute, that's just sad.”

“Now you definitely look like one,” you pointed to his distressed face and he pressed his lips into a line, unimpressed. 

“Just be quiet and put your mouthguard in.”

“That doesn’t shut me up, James, just gives me a lisp.”

“Yeah, and it makes you look like a dork,” he retorted. 

“That’s rich coming from the guy with glasses and a nose strip.” 

He chose to ignore your comment, knowing the banter would go on forever if he didn’t, and instead focused on brushing his teeth and then climbing into bed with a crossword puzzle. 

A short while after, you followed, climbing in on your side and turning so you could face James, observing him with his newspaper. 

A part of you wanted to make a comment about his grandmotherly behaviour, but you settled on watching him for a few moments before pulling your eye mask over your face and going to sleep. 

James turned his head towards you as soon as he didn’t feel your gaze on him any more. He smiled to himself, content with the scene in front of him.

—

“When did you even have time to do this?!” 

You tried to bite back a laugh while putting on a touch of concealer under your eyes while looking into a small portable mirror you had brought with you. 

James’ annoyed voice from the bathroom was only amplified when he walked out and saw your facade slowly start to crumble at the sight of him with baby powder blown all over his face and hair. 

“I just took a shower.” 

“Are you sure, cause you’ve got a little something…” you motioned to his face and he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before letting out a cough from inhaling some of the powder. 

“You’re getting me breakfast,” he said simply, returning to the washroom to take a second shower. 

You burst out laughing once he had fully re-entered the washroom, taking a minute before continuing to get ready and then go downstairs and get some breakfast for you both. 

Meanwhile, upstairs James was planning his comeback, figuring it would be good to go out with a bang. 

You were totally unsuspecting, sitting in the first session, twiddling your thumbs while James took notes from the speaker. 

You wished the speaker would talk about something more interesting so it would be easier to fight off the sleep that was coming, but before that could happen a man with a package went up to the organizer and whispered something in his ear. They paused the speech and the man made an announcement asking if you were in the room. 

Confused, you raised your hand while he informed you that he had a package for you. 

Unfortunately, by the time you realized what was happening, it was too late and the strip club music began to play while the man undressed in front of you. 

You turned over to look at James, mortified, but he simply pulled out a digital camera and snapped a picture of what was happening while you gathered your senses and stood up, pushing the mostly unclothed man in front of you away and informing him he needed to leave. 

James had his lips pressed together to hide a smile and you gingerly apologized to everyone for the mistake before sitting back down, wishing the ground would swallow you up whole. 

“I am never going to live that down,” you whispered harshly to James. 

“Thought we needed to end the conference with a bang,” he shrugged. “Don’t worry I told Cuddy to take you out of the conference rotation for a while so people forget about it by the next time we’re at one of these things.” 

“Oh, you’re such a saint,” you said sarcastically. 

You were thankful that since it was the last day the conference was scheduled to end a little earlier so you could go out, get a nice dinner and pretend to forget about that fact that James had called a stripper for you in the middle of a panel.

As an apology, James offered to pay for dinner and you didn’t hesitate to accept the offer, because as much as you both took a shine to pranking each other and making each other miserable, there was always something to sweeten the deal at the end. 

“God, all that pranking was exhausting,” you sighed while making the walk back to the hotel, arm in arm with James. 

“Maybe we should watch a movie or something to relax?” he suggested. “There must be something good on pay-per-view.” 

“I could get behind that,” you nodded. “Get ready, watch a movie, and then an early night?” 

“Yeah to go along with waking up early in the morning to drive back to Jersey.” 

You chuckled a little and removed your arm from being linked with his, instead grabbing his hand out of his pocket and dragging him toward the hotel, not wanting to waste any time getting into more comfortable clothes. 

You unlocked the door to the hotel room, letting out a surprised squeal when you felt James hands on your lower back tickling you and pushing you into the room. 

You grabbed your pyjamas and quickly ran off to the washroom before James could and got changed, removing your makeup and putting your hair in your bonnet. 

When you came out, James was already changed and ready, flipping through the movie options to see what was available. 

“Hey, why does it say I rented six hours worth of porn?” he looked over at you and you pressed your lips together shrugging innocently. “You know that gets charged to the hospital, Cuddy is gonna see this.” 

“I think I did what I had to do to get back at you for what you did this afternoon. You really thought I was gonna let you have the last laugh?” you asked, sitting on your side of the bed. “And the room was originally under your name so she won’t think it’s me so don’t try and flip this around on me.” 

“Just for that I get to pick the movie and we’re watching your least favourite,” he flipped through the options and clicked on a movie he knew you hated, and before your could protest and grab your earplugs and eye mask he confiscated them saying you could get them back when the movie was over. You’d have to suffer through it. 

Neither of you enjoyed the movie that evening, but you loved the back and forth nevertheless, no moment was safe, there was always a chance one of you would disturb the other’s peace. 

After the movie was over, James went straight to bed while you stayed up just a little bit later, neatly packing some of your things away and as you watched James curled under the blankets you felt your hand grab a pen and paper from the desk and beginning to write a note, folding it nicely and putting it in James’ bag for him to find later, finally ready to spend one last night in this godforsaken hotel before heading back home to New Jersey.

—

“Have you seen my wallet, I can’t find it anywhere?” James asked, patting down his pockets to make sure he hadn’t put it there and forgotten. 

“Did you check your work bag?” you asked, gathering your things together. 

He shook his head and stuck his arm in his bag, digging around for his wallet until he felt something a little unfamiliar, looking down and noticing a paper he hadn’t seen before. 

Curiously, he pulled it out and unfolded it, reading its contents quietly out loud. 

“Dear James, I’m not normally shy, but spending time with you these past few days has shown me something that I think I could get used to seeing. You probably haven’t heard this a lot, but I think you’re as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. The way you carry yourself, your eloquence, your demeanor, are all things that have inspired me to write to you. I’m not very good at expressing myself in words so I hope this short poem will do the trick. Roses are red, violets are blue, I think I’ve fallen in love with you. Love, your secret admirer.”

James looked at the paper confused then up at you with a disappointed look in his eyes. 

“Seriously? Another one, I thought you got me last night?” he asked. “This is a little much, a secret admirer, like who would even…” his voice trailed off as he watched you look at him. He had to admit the look you were giving him was similar to what you’d look like when you’d bested him in a prank, but there was a hint of something else past your eyes that he hadn’t quite noticed until now. “Wait…this is from you. Like really from you.” 

You nodded your head slowly, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“You mean it?” 

You nodded your head again. 

“Seriously?” 

Your lips were pressed in a thin line when you nodded your head for a third time. 

Instead of addressing you, James pulled out his phone and dialled a number. You were about to turn around and pretend the whole interaction hadn’t happened when you felt your phone buzz in your purse. 

Grabbing it, you saw James’ number flash on the screen so you answered it, albeit confused. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, um I saw your ad in the paper,” he started. “It said you could make my dreams come true, but I was wondering if maybe I could make yours come true too?” 

Your hand flew to cover your mouth as you began to laugh and James dropped his work bag on the ground, tossing his phone on the bed and coming over to you pulling you in by the waist and pressing a firm kiss to your lips, only to be broken up by giggles and laughter on both your parts. 

You tossed your phone on the bed next to James’ and instead held his face in your hands, pressing repeated kisses to his lips, loving the way you could feel them pull into a smile against your own. 

“Does this mean I get to see you again with all your sleep gear?” he asked between kisses, making you laugh again. 

“Only if you get a C-PAP machine.” 

“Deal,” he chuckled. “Hey, I’ve got a poem for you.” 

“What is it?” you asked, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Roses are red, violets are blue, I feel pretty lucky that you fell in love with me too.” 

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter @kiddbegins @il0vebeingdelulu @illicit4ff4irs @lynnsthoughts @miarabanana @iwmflbb @/shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey @sarcasm-and-stiles @sun-flower-mad @x-uno @han11dh

He really loves to introduce himself like that huh

And I don't think he really means it everytime...

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - Hell's Assumptions

A/N – Okay, I think that’s everyone on the tagging list. So, here’s to Chapter 4. Raise a glass.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

Tag-List: @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx@sseleniaa@randomgurl2326@22carolina08@astrxwitch@yu-87 @clover-1767 @lil-bexie @thesimpybitch @reverse-soe

People were staring.

The worst part was, you weren’t sure who they were staring at, you or Lucifer. It could have easily been him since he was the King of Hell, and even those who didn’t immediately recognise him could sense the power he exuded. However, it was just as likely that they were looking at you and wondering who you were, and how you had managed to get their ruler to walk with you, especially since he wasn’t known for going out much.

Fortunately, when people saw Lucifer coming, they moved to the other side of the street, staring, whispering, taking pictures, but keeping a safe distance.

Lucifer was used to this kind of thing. He walked confidently, held a charming smile, and was generally non-plussed by the attention. You, on the other hand, felt awkward.

‘This was my idea,’ You mentally reminded yourself.

You tried to hold onto that thought as you attempted to strike up a conversation.

“So… What’s it like in the Embassy building?” You asked, quickly realising that it was a terrible topic as Lucifer’s smile became a glower.

You shouldn’t have reminded him where he was going. It was obvious he hated Heaven for their treatment of him, yet yearned for it and the life he had lost within its pearly gates where nothing went wrong for anyone.

“Sorry,” You said hurriedly. “I didn’t think- uh, nice weather we’re having?”

Lucifer smiled and shook his head. He couldn’t believe you. Only the night before, you had told him to grow up, with such confidence, and now here you were struggling for words. He bypassed the awkward situation with ease by asking, “Will you be visiting the Hotel today?”

“Oh, uh… Maybe. I would like to see everyone again. Check that Nifty hasn’t set anything on fire. Make sure that everything’s okay, and-”

You had been about to mention Angel Dust. Today was one of his work days. You would like to check that he was okay. You didn’t mention him however, with something like a confidentiality clause stopping you, though you weren’t his doctor, nor was he your patient. You didn’t want to talk about his suffering; he was more than his trauma.

Instead, you said, “I would like to check in, but maybe not today. Besides, you’ll be there tonight, won’t you?”

“Yes. I’d like to deliver the news to Charlie personally, and perhaps coach her on some of Heaven’s stricter rules.”

“Then, I think I’ll stay at the manor. I wouldn’t want to step on your toes. You and Charlie- I think you need to catch up a bit, without any interruptions. She missed you, you know.”

Lucifer ruminated on this for a minute. Whatever your motivations, he was glad that you were giving him and his daughter some space. Granted, the Hotel was large enough to house many conversations in separate areas but by making the offer of keeping your distance, you were giving Lucifer some breathing room; that was good.

Had you not made that offer, Lucifer might have brought up the topic of moving you back into the Hotel to Charlie, but in respecting his boundaries, Lucifer was starting to think that you weren’t so bad… for a Sinner.

“I missed her too.”

“Can I ask,” You said hesitantly, “What kept you away so long? You clearly think the world of her.”

Lucifer sighed, and stopped in the middle of the street, “I-”

He didn’t get to explain his absence.

Instead, he became annoyed as two Sinners, one who looked like a nine-year-old boy’s dream with bazooka arms and rocket-infused shoulders, and the other a winged bear-woman wielding a machine gun burst through the building on the opposite side of the road, waging war upon one another.

“SHIT!” You cursed, seeing the debris that threatened to crush a lone imp who hadn’t reacted quickly enough, his leg trapped under the first brick segment that fell.

Reacting quickly, you threw out your arms. A light green barrier shielded the imp from further harm, but you struggled under the weight of so much wreckage.

“MOXXIE!” A female imp yelled, running to him.

You thought she might struggle to lift the wreckage off him and were about to ask for Lucifer’s help before your barrier would inevitably crumble. Yet, the female imp was stronger than she appeared and she threw it off Moxxie. She then lifted him bridal style, and ran from the danger, shooting you a grateful look from across the street.

You gasped and shuddered as you let your arms fall, your barrier fading from existence.

“You shouldn’t have bothered,” Lucifer said as you straightened up.

“What?” You breathed heavily, recovering from the exertion; one of the weakest Demons in Hell, with your limited abilities.

“It was a nice thing to do, but what’s the point? Look around,” Lucifer threw his arms up dramatically. “Someone built something nice, and now it’s gone, all because two Sinners couldn’t take their petty power struggle somewhere else. Nobody benefits from this.”

You opened your mouth to argue but were interrupted by the same two imps you had just saved, “Hey there, I’m pretty sure my husband is delirious right now, but he wanted to come over here.”

“I’m not delirious, Millie,” Moxxie said pointedly, clinging onto her shoulder to support his weight; his leg was in all likeliness broken, but being an imp of Hell, it would heal quickly enough.

Millie looked at him sympathetically, likely thinking something along the lines of, ‘Baby, we’re the only ones on the same side of the street as His Majesty, but do what you gotta do!’

“I must thank you most humbly for your remarkable rescue in my name, good Lady,” Moxxie exclaimed pompously, probably presuming that since you were accompanied by Lucifer you were of a much higher station than you were. “Without you, I would certainly have perished, so I find it an appropriate time to extend my gratitude.”

“He means thank you,” Millie affectionately translated.

“You’re welcome,” You smiled. Then, with a small flourish of your fingers, Moxxie leg was bandaged and he was provided with a crutch to hold onto. You were no healer, but that would help the bone set correctly.

Moxxie and Millie thanked you both again, presuming that Lucifer had been part of the rescue (and in a way he was, for when the warring Demons saw him, they took their battle elsewhere), then they were gone, one limping down the street on his new crutch, and his wife offering to carry him.

“You’re wrong,” You said, once the pair were out of sight. “They benefitted.”

Lucifer didn’t know what to say about that. They were only imps. Why did you think they mattered? Yet, after watching the loving couple thank you for their rescue, Lucifer wasn’t certain that he trusted his assessment of the situation. Charlie wanted to redeem Sinners, you had just saved the lowest of all Hell’s beings and he…? He needed to reassess how he thought about things.

The two of you didn’t speak after that and Lucifer assumed that you were mad at him until you reached Heaven’s Embassy. Lucifer stared at the building, broken and hopeless, thinking about how he would have to fight for Charlie.

He was about to take the first step towards it when you rested your hand on his shoulder.

He stared at you, surprised.

“Good luck,” You proffered sympathetically. Then you walked away, and Lucifer was left staring after you. So, you weren’t mad at him after all. What a curious person you were.

He looked back to the building before him, the one place in Hell that was perfectly pristine, and unable to be harmed by anyone. After a deep breath, he headed inside.

When Lucifer returned home, he was exhausted. The meeting had been lengthy and derogatory. He had been treated with barely disguised disdain and talked in circles, but finally, Heaven had agreed to allow his daughter passage to Heaven.

It was never an option really. As the ruler of a powerful realm, Lucifer had to be treated respectfully, even if all of Heaven hated him. Yet, just because they had to acquiesce to his request didn’t mean they hadn’t tried to talk him out of it. The only good news was that it had been Sera and a few of her assistants who hosted the meeting, not that ignorant prick Adam; Lucifer hated that guy… though his taste in women had always been spectacular.

Still, it had all been worth it when he got to the hotel and Charlie thanked him and invited him to stay for a while. They had caught up over tea, and he had gotten to know a little bit more about her and her relationship with Vaggie. Lucifer likely would have stayed longer seeing as he’d also been invited to games night, but then that red-headed bastard was there, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, and Lucifer had made his reasons to leave.

Now, all he wanted was to recover in peace.

On his way upstairs, he heard the long-neglected TV blaring in one of the living rooms. Feeling somewhat guilty about his unsupportive attitude towards you earlier, he decided it would probably be good for him to make amends and apologise. So, before isolating himself for the evening, he sought you out.  

You were hunched on the sofa, watching 666 News, and grimacing at the new headline, King of Hell’s New Fuckbuddy.

Lucifer stood quietly behind you, watching as Katie Killjoy reported, “While Hell will be royally fucked by the impending extermination it seems that King of Hell Lucifer is being royally fucked by his new bimbo bitch, seen walking with him today on the streets of Pentagram City.”

Security camera footage of you and Lucifer from earlier filled the screen for a minute before returning to the hosts.

“Who is this Sinner? Does Lucifer get off on Angelic clothing? We hope to find out more soon. Over to you, Tom.”

Tom Trench continued the report, much less assuredly than his co-anchor, “Nobody can say for certain they’re together. Some speculate the Demon to be his highness’ new assistant or-”

Katie clutched Tom’s neck in one hand, never looking away from the camera as she cut off his air supply, “Nobody gives a shit about your limp-dick opinion Tom. We’re all here to speculate about who’s raw-dogging who. Now, onto our cooking segment, It’s Dahm Good, with host Jeffrey who is making a delicious spleen soufflé. Jeffrey-”

“HA!” Lucifer laughed, pointing at the TV.

“Shit!” You yelped, lurching forward, having not known he’d returned home. You turned the TV off and stood to face Lucifer.

He was doubled over and wheezing at the idea that you and he would ever be together.

“Well, at least you’re not upset about this,” You grinned, finding his good mood contagious.

“What morons. They’re always just there, assuming the weirdest shit whenever I go out,” He laughed.  

“Yeah? So, it’s okay people know we’re friends?”

Lucifer straightened up with a smile. So, you classed him as a friend? He didn’t confirm or deny your assumption of friendship. He waved his hand, unbothered, “Let them think what they want to think. It’s Hell, nothing matters. Besides, 666 News is trash.”

“Yeah, you’re right. So, how did the meeting with Heaven go? Did they agree to meet with Charlie?”

Lucifer sobered up slightly, though he didn’t seem as upset as he was earlier when Heaven was mentioned, “Yes. The meeting’s in a week. Charlie is- She’s optimistic.”

“And you?”

“I- My girl can handle it.”

“Yeah, she can.”

And so it was that you and Lucifer started to find some common ground, that slowly built the gap from two people who barely knew one another, towards friends.

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x Reader (no pronouns used)

SUMMARY — James comes home just in time to help with dinner

WARNINGS — one almost dirty joke

NOTE — This is a request from the winner of my fic lottery @anayame The concept was so cute to write and I hope you like it!

Middle picture credit goes to @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey

It had been a while since James could confidently say he had come home to the smell of food being cooked in the kitchen. The sound of onions sizzling and sauces bubbling was like a fanfare welcoming and inviting him into the space. 

“Hey, you got back home just in time,” he heard your voice call from the kitchen. “I need an extra pair of hands, get in here.” 

“Normally when people say that it means the food is already finished cooking,” James teased, after having taken off his shoes and rolled up his sleeves so that you could put him to work. 

“And let you miss out on this fun?” you scoffed. “No way.” 

“Where do you need me?” he asked, coming to stand behind you, placing his hands on your hips and pressing a kiss behind your ear. “Cause I’m more than happy to just keep doing this.” 

“Ease up, lover boy,” you chuckled. “Steak needs searing and I know how particular you get about your perfect medium.” 

“Steak, are we celebrating?” he asked. 

“Yes, the fact that you made it home on time for dinner,” you looked over at him to gauge his reaction and he couldn’t fight back a smile and shook his head. 

“How was work?” he asked, side-stepping your comment. 

“My arch-nemesis is an eight-year-old named Justin, how do you think work went?” you asked and James laughed at your response. “I’m kidding, it was alright, Justin has a cold so he wasn’t in class today.” 

“I’m excited to come in for career day and meet all these eight-year-olds that occupy every story you tell,” he said. “Who knows, maybe Justin will like me.” 

“I doubt it, he only likes his friend Asante and even then sometimes Asante still gets caught up in his whirlwind. Kind of like you and House actually.” 

“I do not get caught up in his whirlwind,” James looked at you, offended, and you looked over at him to ask if he was serious. 

“You lied to the police for him, you most definitely got caught up in it.” 

James opened his mouth for a rebuttal, but shut it seeing as you had made a very valid point. 

“How was your day at work?” you asked. “Did Cuddy finally approve that expansion for the playroom?” 

“Not quite yet, but I think I’m almost there. Maybe if I throw House under the bus when he goes behind her back that’ll sweeten the deal,” he thought to himself. 

“But at what cost, House is gonna fight back and you’re gonna regret every decision you ever made.” 

James weighed his options before giving up and saying he’d decide what to do about it later. 

You moved over to the stove where James was to pour some pureed tomatoes into the onions frying on the stove to make a sauce to go on the side with the vegetables and the steak. What you didn’t realize is that James, in his haste to turn down the heat on the stove, would knock the spoon out of your hand, making it fall in the dish and making the tomatoes splatter all over your shirt. 

“Oh my God,” James’ eyes went wide, seeing the splotch on your shirt. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I should have known having you in the kitchen would only result in disaster,” you teased, not at all upset by the mess. “It’s nothing a little TLC can’t take care of.” 

“Can I make it up to you?” James asked. “I know how much you liked that shirt.” 

You used your finger to scoop off some of the pureed tomato off your shirt and place it on his nose. 

“I don’t know, can you?” you asked with raised brows. 

James wiped the sauce off his nose before grabbing your sleeves and giving you a signal with his eyes for you to slip your arms out of them before he helped pull the shirt off your head without contaminating anything else, leaving you in a thin tank top. 

“I think you’re just making it up to yourself,” you laughed, looking down at what you were wearing. 

“If I were making it up to myself, I would have done this,” he took the spoon out of the tomato sauce and flicked it at you, now getting your undershirt dirty. “Oops.” 

“Oh, you’re so going to pay for that,” you shook your head and just to spite him you kept the tank top on even though it was dirty. 

By then the butter in James’ pan had melted and was beginning to bubble so he turned his attention back to the stove so that he could begin searing the steak. You cooked in tandem for a while, and once the steak was cooked James stole a few kisses from you, apologizing again for your shirt and you assured him he could take it off later if he really wanted to. 

“Do you want me to set the table?” James asked, after washing his hands and having set the steak off to the side. 

“That would be nice, it could be like a little home date,” you smiled while putting some potatoes in the oven to cook. 

You watched as James dug around the cupboards for a tablecloth and candles, carefully setting everything up on the dining room table so that it was just right. 

Slowly, one by one, the dishes made their way onto the table as they were ready and when everything was set up you looked down at yourself and wondered if maybe you were a bit underdressed. 

“Maybe I should change into something a little nicer,” you said while James lit the candles on the table. 

“Change, what for?” 

“I’ve got tomato all over my shirt, James. I thought that one was pretty obvious.” 

“No, I mean this is a home date, isn’t the whole point that it can be as messy as we want it to be?” he asked. “I mean, I don’t have to wear this tie,” he pointed to it as he came closer to you, prompting you to take it between your fingers and feel the fabric before helping him untie it and throw it off to the side. 

You unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and for good measure he took a spoon of the sauce and poured it on his shirt. 

“There, we match.” 

“And need to do a load of laundry after this,” you chuckled and pulled him in by the collar of his shirt for a kiss. “I love you, and I love cooking with you.” 

“Me too, to both of those things,” James agreed and you grinned before turning him around and pushing him in the direction of his seat, insisting that you were starving and needed to eat. “So, I was thinking,” James started while serving you some sides. 

“Oh, that’s dangerous.” 

“I was thinking,” he repeated. “Our anniversary is coming up. Do you want to do something special?” 

“Hmm,” you thought for a moment. “We could both take a sick day,” you suggested. “Or a few, go up to Connecticut, rent a cabin.” 

“Cook all day,” James teased and you smiled. “I think that sounds like a great plan. We’ve always talked about doing something like that haven’t we?” 

“Yeah, it just…I don’t know, never seemed like the right time.” 

“You sure you won’t miss your kiddos too much?” he asked. 

“As much as I love them, a few days just the two of us is too enticing to pass up,” you sipped your drink. 

Eating dinner was not nearly as fun as cooking it together, but you both made do with what you could and James stories were nothing short of interesting especially when they included House and his team. 

“Alright, I think I’m stuffed now,” you leaned back in your seat. “But we should clean this up before I go into a food coma.” 

“I wash, you rinse?” James asked. 

“We have a dishwasher, James,” you chuckled. 

“I know, I just thought you might want to spend more time, but I know when my company isn’t wanted,” he feigned offence. 

“Awe, that’s actually really sweet,” you let out a small laugh. “Alright, I’ll suffer through dishwashing for you, Wilson.” 

“Just for that, you’re washing and I’m rinsing,” he gave you a look and you conceded, standing up from the table and clearing the leftovers before getting started on what was in the sink. 

“James, be careful with that, you’re accidentally spraying water all over me,” you nudged him with your hip. 

“Oh sorry I meant to actually spray water all over you,” he turned the moveable faucet in your direction and you gasped when the water hit your shirt. “I mean you did say we needed to do laundry.” 

“Is this why you wanted to wash dishes? To get me wet?-I heard it James don’t you dare make a comment,” you immediately amended and he fought back a chuckle. 

“I love you,” he smiled again and you wished he would wipe that stupid grin off of his face because it made it really hard to be annoyed with him. 

“You think you can just say I love you and it’s gonna make it all better?” you asked. “Cause you’re right, it is,” you grabbed his face with your soapy hands and pressed a kiss to his lips, sandwiched between smiles and chuckles. 

To say you both looked ridiculous by the end was an understatement, but James couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun at dinner and it became very clear that maybe he needed to come home a little early more often.

TAGLIST —

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