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writingmeraki · 3 days
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hurt hearts — k.mg drabble.
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❝ in which you learn mingyu has a big heart ( and chest—) and he's terribly hurt while you might just beat the shit out of him.
( or mingyu's heart was already yours before you even knew it )
pairing : secret!agent mingyu x secret!agent reader, acquaintances stage. genre : fluff, angsty. warnings : mentions of injuries, treating wounds ( inaccurate forgive me🙏) mingyu ( he's a warning ).
a/n : the double update as promised hehe also the pic is not even related to the drabble but I just had to use it yk?? thank you to @etherealyoungk for feeding my delusions. also this got angsty quite quick 😭 ???( might do a summer fic with this mingyu hehehe ) pls I was also like naurr why is it so sad suddenly but eh it's fine. take this as some sort of teaser for the full secret agent mingyu fic I guess! and yes I will never get fed up of writing these two <3 let me know what you think of this mwah 💌
word count : 2.7k
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“Are you fucking stupid?!?”
Silence enveloped the room as you asked in a voice laced with agitation.
It was all whispers of panic and chaos while you took in the scene in front of you, quiet and in your thoughts, but the more you thought of it, the more you got enraged.
“Do you even realise what could have happened?"
It seemed as though the wound on his chest was glaring at you as you spoke, unable to look away from it as it continued to bleed. You winced, frowning more as you shook your head.
Mingyu, on the other hand, like the true annoyance he was, blinked in surprise as he heard you cuss. It was rare you did, it was rare you talked actually, choosing to only answer in small replies.
Or maybe you just hated him because he swears he’s seen you not only talk but also laugh and giggle with Vernon and Chan, even Seungcheol!
He didn’t want to admit it before but now he can, he absolutely disliked the fact that you were more nonchalant to him than any other person. Was he the problem?
No, no negative thoughts right now. Perhaps you were just shy around him.
Right because a shy person would definitely be glaring at him with all the rage enough to just burn him with a gaze.
Who was he trying to convince? You hated him and for all he knew, he was just a nuisance in your life.
“Where’s Wonwoo?! Is Dr.Jeon not there?” You sat him down on the lounge chair in the agency building. It was supposed to mimic how an actual office building would be, hence they even did the extra and added the typical reception desk and waiting area at the ground floor.
Wonwoo? Since when were you on a first name basis with Wonwoo?
He frowned at that, he didn't want to admit it but it annoyed him just a little. Though. He did have other bigger problems right now.
Like the gash on his upper chest that was bleeding. But it seemed the adrenaline had dimmed down the pain. It felt more numb if anything.
“He-he left. I mean his shift is over there's no one—”
“How the fuck is there no other doctor on duty?! In a fucking place like this you'd expect at least one how—”
You pinched your nose and took a deep breath. You were on the verge of possibly killing someone.
Mingyu was bleeding and you needed to think.
“Seungkwan. Get me the first aid kit. Chan, go get some water. And you-”
You looked back at Mingyu in question,
“Can you walk?”
Instead of answering, he nodded curtly, not really wanting to provoke you than he already had. He knew when and where to speak up when he should. At least sometimes he did.
“Great, let's go to my room.”
[ A few moments later ]
Your office space was very…you. It was like a reflection of what he thinks you are.
Your artefacts, some polaroids with people in few and more so sceneries. It resembled a lot of you but also not enough to satisfy his curiosity. He wanted to know more.
He sat down on the sofa, a light pink coloured one, one that stood out in the monochrome room. But it was nice. It was pretty.
He also thinks you look pretty, even though you were tense, eyebrows scrunched as you cut the bandage tape precisely.
You look pretty all the time though.
“I'll need you to remove your shirt.”
Mingyu would love to hear so much from you, and wanted to hear you say so many things for him. This was one of them for sure, but definitely not in the circumstances he wishes.
“I-what? ” He chokes up, immediately sitting up from his leaned back position, one you forced him into when he came there.
You put down the bandage after you finished, looking at him with an eyebrow raised, now crossing your arms.
“How else do you want me to treat your wound?”
“You're-you’ll be treating it?”
“Does it look like there's anyone else right now who can? If you're scared, just trust me, I uh- I have experience from treating my own and others as well.”
You said it firmly because you realised the unsurety in his voice might be right. He didn't know that you knew basic first aid and actually more, it was a requirement for most agents but perhaps it was different here.
Mingyu did trust you. That wasn't what he doubted. He doubted himself, whether he'd be able to handle you touching him in any way. He's terrified he might pass out.
“Okay, now I'll need you to actually remove your shirt, I'll help if you-”
“NO!-uh no I'll do it myself.”
He immediately raised his hands and began unbuttoning, as the shirt got more loose, you focused on how the wound was.
It was a slice, not a stab luckily, so it wouldn't have caused as much damage as a stab would. But it still was damage that hurt.
He hissed in pain as his shirt moved away from his hurt chest, the wound being open to the air.
Slowly, he removed his other arm and finally got his blood soaked shirt out. He questioned where to put it without saying anything as he looked around but you just grabbed it and tossed it in the dustbin.
It was one of his favourites.
Seeing the slight pout on his face, you rolled your eyes because of course, Mingyu would find that to be an issue and not the fact that he was bleeding out.
“I'll get you another one.”
That made him look up at you, to which his eyes widened,
“Uh no I-”
“Shut up.”
You finished preparing the cotton to clean up his wound first, you turned to face him and for a brief moment you paused.
You didn't expect what was in front of you. Mingyu being shirtless was expected of course, but his toned torso and wait…were those abs??
You cleared your throat when you realised you might have been staring a little too long.
It wasn't like you weren't used to seeing people with muscular bodies or so. It was natural in your field for people to be fit.
But Mingyu. Holy shit, he looked like someone personally took their time on him.
“Uhm, okay so I'll just clean up your wound first and then disinfect it, then just bandage it up alright?”
Your voice sounded a lot less angry than before. Actually it sounded more timid if anything. It made Mingyu both shocked and curious as to why suddenly you'd seem so…nervous?
You moved to sit beside him, trying your best to not let your eyes waver more than they already have.
Unfortunately for you, fortunate for Mingyu, your eyes did wander and in fact lingered a little too long on his exposed chest. Along with his torso.
And he noticed.
And he realised.
Gulping slightly, no ordinary person would know but Mingyu did and the glint in his eyes shifted to something more confident, you raised your hand and gently began to clean the open wound.
It seemed it was not as deep as you initially thought.
Holy shit, I'm touching his chest.
You're not a teenager for goodness sake pull yourself together?!???
But his chest is buff and so- fuck. Fucking hell.
Your internal thoughts were in conflict as you cleaned up his wound, not even realising you were going over a place that was already cleaned.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed yours and you were startled out of your conflict.
“You already cleaned it enough,” Mingyu had to bite his tongue to not slip out any sort of pet names but that didn't stop the small smirk on his face from seeing your somewhat composed demeanour be a little thrown off by his sudden nakedness.
His hand holding yours made it seem like you were burning. It burned when he touched you.
And how would one react to a burn?
They'd move far away from the cause of said burn.
You pulled your hand out and stood up quickly,
“Right, right, I was just uh- making sure. I wouldn't want any infections or anything like that.”
You turned back to your first aid kit, turning your back on him and slightly shook your head.
Pull yourself together. He's just…a guy.
But was he really just any guy?
He was Kim Mingyu. The guy who caused you more stress than anything. The same guy who also would bother you a lot during missions.
And yet he was also the same guy who saved you today. You were ambushed during the mission and outnumbered.
It was you against six. You could handle them practically speaking but you also would have your attention split more than it should be. Meaning you wouldn't be prepared for a seventh guy from out of nowhere.
But Mingyu happened to be able to come there. On time too. As though he was keeping up with you despite being in another room with another problem.
What you didn't know was how quickly he made it out of that room when he heard you were ambushed. How he felt his heart drop when he heard you yelp in pain when you got attacked out of nowhere. How he couldn't actually care about the rest of the mission after that and what he cared about most was getting you out of there. Safely.
He knew perhaps it was risky to have jumped in front of you when you were going to get stabbed but darn it be him than you anytime.
Luckily you were also quick enough to make sure he wasn't actually stabbed and pushed him aside as you gained the extra hand and were able to take down the ambusher.
You were not at all happy with what he did. In fact, going as far as to not talking to him till you reached the agency because you were boiling in rage.
“You know you shouldn't have jumped in between like that.”
You said as you soaked up the cotton in hydrogen peroxide.
“But you would have gotten terribly hurt.” Mingyu frowned at your words. The doubt from before raising as to why you'd been so upset with him when he actually saved you.
“Yes but that would be my fault. I would get hurt in my own fight. I'd bleed and patch it up myself. There would be no one else hurt but me.”
You turned to face him, holding the cotton in your hand as you walked up again towards him.
“Not you who got hurt because of me. I wouldn't feel the…the guilt. You got hurt. Because of me.”
His eyes softened upon hearing your words. It made sense now. You were feeling guilty and that's why you'd been so upset. He thinks he'd feel the same too if you were to get hurt somehow because of him.
“I'm…I'm sorry I didn't think about that but I couldn't just sit back and let you get hurt knowingly, I just, I couldn't do that. Not to you.”
You sat back down to your original position, now having completely different emotions than before. But you weren't sure which you preferred because the current ones were only making you feel more worse if anything.
Lightly pressing the soaked cotton on his open wound, he hissed in pain as the alcohol came in contact with his open skin.
“It's fine Mingyu, you don't need to explain, I get it. I'd also do it. Thank you for…saving me.”
You don't need to thank me.I'd only do it for you though. I'd risk anything for you.
But instead he could only gasp in pain as you continued to clean,
“Yeah, what a time to say thank you when you're causing me only more pain.”
You rolled your eyes at his words but felt a little bad for him due to knowing the pain of hydrogen peroxide to an exposed wound.
“Oh, shut up now you big baby, this will help you.”
“Baby? Are we moving on to pet names now?”
“What??? I didn't- I didn't mean it that-”
“Oh I know, I was just messing with you.”
“You-!”
After a bit more cleaning and more arguing, you got up and grabbed the bandage.
“Now how will I wrap this?”
You questioned as you held it. He also got up, feeling a bit better but you still warned him not to move to much as the wound was not yet wrapped.
Then you got the idea of how to wrap it.
“Listen, what I'll do is wrap this around your entire chest, like the entire upper part alright? I don't have anything else besides this right now but it'll help temporarily. Tomorrow you go and get it properly dressed from Wonwoo.”
He nodded obediently and it was slightly cute as to how he almost resembled a little puppy quietly following instructions. Though you could see him getting tired from the way his eyes seemed to drift.
“I'll do it as quick as I can.”
And quickly you did, already wrapping over the wound enough,to the point Mimgyu had to tell you he felt like he couldn't breath and that's when you stopped.
No sign of blood.
You noted as you taped over the left over end part on the right side of his chest.
For this part, you were very close to him, to ensure the best precision. He was just glad it wasn't the left side of his chest or else you'd definitely feel how fast his heartbeat was going from the moment you got closer.
Mingyu likes you. Like really really likes you. You who stayed behind and treated his wound. You who felt guilty for him getting hurt for something he chose to do.
He thinks in this situation no matter how hurt he got, he was now sure about you. More specifically liking you.
“There. All done.” You patted down his chest lightly as you moved a little behind but before you could properly go, his hand out of nowhere held your own and pulled you closer.
It was unexpected so you couldn't help but stumble a bit as your eyes widened.
You were very close. Too close in fact you were sure if you moved a bit more closer, you might just end up kissing him.
It didn't seem like too bad of an idea.
“Mingyu, what are you doing?”
“I just, I want to tell you thank you for helping me out right now, properly.”
He smiled softly at you, his canines slightly peaking from beneath his closed lip smile and you swore you felt your body flush.
He looked…as handsome as he always did. Brown eyes shimmering in all sorts of emotions, lips a shade of pretty pink.
But you couldn't. You couldn't dare. Not now.
Clearing your throat, you pulled back and stepped behind, your body suddenly feeling a weird coldness from the sudden distance.
On the other hand, Minghu seemed confused. Did he push too far? He didn't mean to, he didn't want to rush anything, he just wanted to properly say thank you like actually say it and not do anything-
“It's alright. I hope you get better soon. I'll call Seungkwan to get you a shirt. You can get changed here. I'll just leave now, it's late anyways and you should to.”
“Have a goodnight agent Kim.”
Agent…Kim? Not even Mingyu?
Before he could even question your change of behaviour, you'd already moved out of your room as if you life depended on it.
As if you'd rather be anywhere but there.
As if you suddenly remembered your dislike towards him.
“Wait! Y/—”
Sighing out, in likely relief as you got out of your office, you made your way down to the lobby.
You couldn't help but feel the guilt, if not even more at how you left Mingyu just because you were a coward. Just because you didn't want to admit how he made you feel.
You couldn't do that to him. Not at this moment.
And perhaps you couldn't do that to him ever, for Kim Mingyu deserves the best.
And that was surely not you.
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chaldeanu · 2 days
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taste of home ノ aventurine
ꕤ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . requested by @yinyuedijun ノ i slightly changed the prompt as you said you’re okay with it. i couldn’t come up with any inspiration for an avgin dish, and anything else would require many many more words hehe so i just kept that “homemade” part. i hope you will enjoy the read! ♡
ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 0.6k ノ gn reader — established relationship . soft bickering . making dinner ノ mostly domestic fluff but it’s aventurine so obviously a sprinkle of hurt comfort ノ vague mentions of his past
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“you never eat at home.”
home sounds distant. aventurine is not used to hearing that word; he’s baffled at how easy it is for you to mention it in any conversation you spark with him.
“why should i? i have enough money to—”
“why shouldn’t you? just once in a while?” an offer, all you can muster with a shrug of your shoulders, knowing well that he would only get more defensive if you were to push him any further with a stern tone. “don’t you want at least to try?”
he doesn’t remember how the food he used to eat with his family tasted like. its memory mingled with the taste of blood, dirt, and dry rations he had to live on for some time. now that he thinks about it — now that you forced him to think about it — maybe that’s exactly why he wants to eat only fancy full-course meals at the finest restaurants. correct, he should get over this irrational fear, but it is so deeply ingrained in his core. an inseparable part.
“for someone so cocky, it’s almost weird to see how often you’re scared of trying new things.” you say it gently, holding his hand in between yours and caressing his knuckles with the soft pads of your thumbs.
“aww, don’t say that,” he chuckles. “you’re usually the one that runs away behind me when something startles you or asks me to do something for you, haha!”
“no?! i’m not. i’m doing fine on my own!” you huff, crossing your arms on your chest.
he grins and shakes his head at you. but it doesn’t look mischievous, not this time. even if you want to continue being stubborn, there’s no point in dragging out this silly argument that, frankly, is completely unrelated to the main topic. to which you return, with your gaze almost pleading.
“we barely used that table in the dining room since moving in here. i can make you something.”
he blinks a few times, tilting his head slightly to come up with a witty answer. but you ignore it, patting him to sit on the chair and yourself going into the kitchen.
to kill the remaining time, he plays with the cuffs of his shirt, picking off nonexistent lint from the silk, before he drops his shoulders down with a sigh. it feels good to just let the day pass, eyes unfocused at the glimmers of the afternoon sun dancing through the windows; he’s glancing at his phone every few minutes, ignoring replying to the messages from work despite them occupying his mind more than he would like to.
not even noticing when he hears your voice calling for him as you come back. the food smells great, and it makes him more nervous as he keeps staring at the dish you put in front of him.
you’re trying not to smile at the sight of him mouthing something under his nose, not sure what, but if you’re not mistaken, something along the lines of being too good for him or making him uncomfortable — or both. for whatever reason, you expected he would take it worse than this.
“you like it?”
“it’s fine.” there’s a pause when his throat ties into a knot, tears threatening to gather in the corner of his eyes.
unsurprising reaction. you sigh and get up from your seat, moving to the other side of the table to put a hand on his shoulder. with each reassuring rub, you take little steps until you’re behind him and your fingers slip into his hair, massaging the scalp in lazy circles.
“let me get my coffee. i will join you in a moment.” you kiss the top of his head and walk away.
and he’s thankful that he can swallow that unexpected surge of emotions without you sitting in front of him.
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vagabond-umlaut · 2 days
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a battle well begun is the war half won
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gojo notices you. you notice gojo. [the boy wants your eyes on him at all times.]
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teen!gojo x fem!reader; first meetings; love at first sight[??]; lovesick gojo[??]; mostly fluffy; 1 small discussion on death; reader is in 1st yr whilst gojo is in 3rd yr; gojo has a very... unique definition of romancing in his brain; 'one-sided enemies to lovers' vibes; 2.2k wc
belongs to the series 'fictitious force' but can be read as a stand-alone if you wanna
the og saying is smthng else, yeah... ik. i js tweaked it a bit for fic title purposes, hehe. also, pls no comments on how i named this series... i used to hv a love-hate thing with pseudo-force problems in physics during my hs... and i'm srsly out of ideas :D
header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine
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the sky bleeds green, the first time gojo sees you fight.
it isn't anything enthralling. your movements, far from well-practised. your twisted expression screams unease at best, extreme discomfort at worst— you are definitely not one of the best sorcerers the boy has seen so far—
yet he finds himself utterly transfixed.
feet rooted to the earth as an even brighter green beam cuts through the forest. and the second mountain of cursed energy becomes a few wisps of smoke. your form slumping to the ground not long after—
were the boy a better person at heart, he reckons he would've rushed to help you. but he isn't. not really.
so he keeps to his vantage point. blue eyes narrowing a touch behind his shades, as they watch you slowly heave yourself off the mud, face shifting into a scowl as you trudge towards a tree and plop down with no ceremony in front of it—
a barely-there rustle to his left.
followed by the appearance of the steady simmer of a cursed energy, all too familiar.
"yo, nanamin!" gojo greets, wearing a wide beam the second the said kouhai comes before him, feet carefully and soundlessly treading the rugged terrain— the latter's perpetual glower turns into a momentary flicker of surprise.
but it's vanished before the older boy can comment on it.
nanami's face flattens back to its usual state of annoyed indifference.
"the tournament is already over. yaga-sensei wants us all to report to him in another ten..." the boy trails off. rather abruptly. rather strange for him— aha! so nanamin has finally spotted you in the valley below, huh?— gojo wraps an arm around his kouhai's shoulders, allowing his gaze to return to you as well.
you look pretty cute when you're yawning...
"she's from kyoto, isn't she?"
"yes," the younger boy replies, pinning gojo under a curious look. but it's gone all too soon, all too swiftly like the ones preceding. he drops the arm resting on his shoulder.
gojo lets him. simply pouting in response, before he hums, "do you know her?"
"personally, no," nanami is quick to answer, "but from what i've heard from others... she's somewhat peculiar, if i may say so."
this is honestly one of the best opportunities he will ever get to tease that stoic underclassman of his, even more 'cause since when did he, the nanami kento, start gossipping like old geezers!?— but gojo opts to let this chance pass by.
getting more deets on you is way more important for him.
he doesn't bother to hide his burgeoning interest from his tone. "you know her name by any chance?"
nanami does. and as far as gojo knows, your surname doesn't belong to any of the sorcerer clans. none of the major clans, he is pretty sure of that— you might be from a minor one. or, what his gut feelings are telling him, you're from a non-sorcerer background.
not that it matters to him. he is better than the elders of his clan.
"and which year is she in?"
"first year."
wow. you haven't been in school for more than a few months, but you have already managed to make people talk about yourself, huh? quite impressive, gojo thinks as he steals another glance of you.
this time, no longer yawning. just staring vacantly at your keds—
except those muddy shoes are no longer the object of your attention. it is him— really, so very him— your bright, blinding, blindingly bright gaze, every ounce of it focused on him, as your back straightens. and he spots your shoulders tense, brows furrow—
gojo satoru doesn't run away.
he is one of the strongest duo of jujutsu sorcerers. the boy does not, he cannot, he must not run away... yet that's what he does when his gaze collides with you the first time.
grabbing nanami's hand and wasting not one moment to warp them both to the school rooftop, his kouhai's yelp of surprise goes with an ear-piercing whistle of the winds— gojo releases his hold on the boy, the moment his feet touch the concrete— and turns to him, eyes the calmest he can make them seem.
"tell me everything you know about her— like, right now— or i will tell your dear geto-senpai you were the one who finished his melon pan— quit glaring and start speaking, nanamin!!!"
****
turns out, nanami's heart has a very soft corner for gojo's best friend.
also turns out, the third-year need not wait till the breakfast at 10 am tomorrow, to approach you— you amble into his life, dressed in a tad too washed-out set of pajamas and a terrible hairstyle— gojo reckons an angel too would look the same, when you flip the kitchen lights on, making the clock seem a halo-ey thing behind your head.
you stop. suck in a sharp breath.
the boy swallows the last bit of his mochi. and grins.
"heeey! you're the newbie from kyoto, right? heard a lot 'bout you!"
honestly? it was less of hearing and more of extracting info, but gojo decides not to mention it. you don't have any business knowing that, whatever can be the case— ten painfully slow seconds tick by before you return him a response—
a stiff smile.
an even stiffer bow.
followed by you turning on your heel.
were gojo any slower, you would've slipped from the kitchen without any doubt. but he isn't. which is why not even four seconds can pass before he stills you again, this time not by his tall figure lounging in a terrifyingly dark kitchen but by his fingers grasping your wrist.
thumb pressing into the dangerously frantic pulse beneath your skin.
you try to snatch your hand away. and the boy lets you. only 'cause he was too distracted by the furious warmth of embarrassment creeping into your pretty face— no, it is not for how your skin felt a tad too soft beneath the callouses of his palm...
you're the first one to speak this time. voice so quiet... so firm.
"i don't think i can help you with anything, senpai. please don't bother me this way. let me go... please."
no way in hell is gojo bothering you right now— the indignant retort is the first thing the boy can think of. but he resolves to bite it back.
a stupid argument isn't how he wants his story with you to start. sure, there might and will be those later on, but not now. no. he shoots the second grin of his this night, your way.
"aw, i don't need your help with anything— but yeah, you're right. i'm not supposed to stop you like this... you need to sleep enough before tomorrow's one-on-one duels, don't ya?"
"yeah," you agree easily, eyes drifting to your shoes in a small nod.
gojo's grin widens.
maybe like a cheshire cat.
maybe like a victor cat who finally got the rat right where he wanted: in his paws.
"but you won't be needing a lot of rest if you're already determined to lose the match tomorrow— will you now?"
no, you won't. you obviously won't. gojo has learnt enough about you to predict this much accurately; but maybe not too accurately. given you don't show any sliver of shock or fear in return.
just two eyebrows raised, only to slowly descend to their original level a moment later. your tone feels firmer this time. "what exactly are you trying to tell me, senpai?"
"nothing too serious," the boy hums easily, stuffing his hands into his trousers pockets. why do they start being so cold, so clammy now of all times??— "just that it doesn't take a hell lot of work to maintain an image of being an incompetent idiot, like the one you always seem to be— c'mon," the boy coaxes, making his voice seem extra petulant at noticing still no emotion whatsoever on your face, "you do know what i'm speaking of, don't you?"
in retrospect, maybe... he should have handled you with greater care. you're not only new to your school, but also to the world of sorcery in general. pressing you so hard will hurt you, if not break you entirely— but gojo doesn't let such concerns form in his mind. not even for one whole second.
not when he wants to see something, anything come to life in those bright eyes of yours. he is dying to see a spark in them.
you fold your arms across your chest. brows nearing in a mild scowl. gojo doesn't really understand, but loves the sense of joy the sight is bringing him— "what exactly are you trying to tell me, senpai?" your adorable voice repeats, stonier than before.
he resists the urge to pinch your cheeks. or worse, coo at you.
the boy removes his hands from his pockets. copying your stance as he says, "i cannot really tell you anything, y'know— you're almost as smart as me— i mean, tricking those stinking geezers into believing you're just some weakass, with neither a cursed technique nor good fighting skills, despite the insane amount of cursed energy you've..."
"why did you never curb your cursed energy, by the way?" the query slips past his lips into the space in between: horribly genuine. a fact that doesn't escape your eye, he grasps when you reply— in spite of the not-too-little reluctance marking your features.
"the higher-ups were aware of my high cursed energy before i even knew what the hell it was— it was honestly too late," you state in an awfully matter-of-fact tone, "they would have noticed if i tried to do anything to it."
the 'and they would have harmed me or my family' goes unsaid, but gojo doesn't need to hear it to know it. not entirely intentionally, his voice grows softer with the next question.
"but you tampered with something that no one knew anything of yet— you lied about having no cursed technique, didn't you?"
your hesitation overpowers you this time, however. brows furrowing for a beat at him, before they flatten again. you offer a curt nod.
few more seconds borrowed until you speak again, "but my horrible fighting skills weren't a lie entirely... i really am shit at fighting— you saw that today, did you not?"
he did. he so did—
but that very moment, he also saw just how strong your technique is. surely not as powerful as his. but pretty much capable on its own— it frankly won't be a serious issue even if you keep fighting how you did today—
the sound of a yawn breaks his internal musings.
those big eyes of yours blink up at him. so bleary, so bright. he stifles the urge to pinch your cheeks again. deciding to shoo away the sleep in your eyes by throwing the next ask his brain has cooked up. one he knows, has the biggest 'yes!' ever for its answer—
"you're very scared of dying, aren't you? that's why you always make yourself seem so weak— so much so that you aren't assigned to any mission— don't you?"
— only to question his brain when he notes the easy smile twist your lips. it sharpens at the edges as you answer, "dying's rather easy and uncomplicated, senpai. it doesn't really scare me, except maybe, the pain i might have to suffer— but do you know what's scarier??"
"no," gojo says back quietly. honestly. your smile grows something an awful lot similar to pity— the boy detests it usually... but coming from you, he thinks he will take it.
he will take any look you're willing to give him.
as long as it's you on the other side—
your words reach him quieter than the breeze outside. "what's more terrifying is the worry of what is going to happen to your loved ones, should you just die someday— death is inevitable, but i just want to stave it off for as long as i can. just so i may live with my family... you know what, senpai?" you interrupt yourself abruptly, voice becoming the sharpest in these last fifteen minutes.
a feeble sound escapes the boy.
he isn't sure if it's because of that sincere little hum in your words or if it is the gleam of the moonlight on your face. perhaps, both...
yeah, both— it is rather difficult to distinguish between the beauty of your inner self from that of your outer self— the smile simmers down to a subtle twitch of your lips.
something stutters and stumbles inside gojo's chest.
"i know you see me as nothing more than a coward right now, but i believe... it's better to be a coward and alive, than to be a hero and dead— isn't it, senpai?"
[you're pretty bold, however.
far braver than he could ever deem you to be, the boy muses later to himself with a wry smile, an ice bag on the big toe of his right foot— this poor thing swollen and bruised from how mercilessly the heel of your slipper stamped onto it earlier—
okay, fine— the sorcerer concedes to the imaginary angel perched on his shoulder. something between a grumble and a sigh escaping— he shouldn't have asked you out on a date, in return for him to keep your secrets.
it was really inappropriate, he admits. and gojo likes to see himself as a gentleman... yet, yet, yet.
the need to see that placid mask of yours crack— let it be by a glower and not by the smile, he has never seen on you but knows will be just as lovely as you— that need was too overwhelming then as well...
shushing the angel and fist-bumping his guardian devil, gojo tosses the ice bag away. and falls back into his bed—
a very happy, a touch too giddy grin splitting his face into halves:
you really are a peculiar girl, heh!]
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hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️
masterlist
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385 notes · View notes
spaceclefairy · 2 days
Text
Only You
You don't expect the Ghoul to hang around, but he comes creepin' back in around sundown every night. You're glad you remembered the Rad-Away.
Act I | Act II | Act III | Ao3 Compilation
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You're stuck in Filly for the next few days while you sort out the raider issue with your agency. You assume “sorting it out” involves the agency terminating the raiders with characteristic violence and aplomb, but you don’t ask questions when you don’t want to know the answer.
There’s not a lot of lodging in Filly. In fact, there’s not much of anything. Ramshackle trader stalls, a few real stores if you squint, a radroach-infested motel, and a bar that most of the town seemed to frequent once the hour struck late no matter the day. At least the bar has enough open rooms to let you rent one for a few nights.
You hadn't expected the Ghoul to stick around, but so far, he continues to show up. He disappears during the day, then returns long after dark and crawls into the small barroom bed with you. You don't ask him what he gets up to during the day (you don't want to know), but you assume he's taking care of smaller contracts while he's out.
You've been spending your days at the agency hub taking down telegrams for contracts and sending out bids. It's mind numbing work when you're used to dealing with bounty hunters all day, but you've got to do something while you wait for the agency to give you the okay to go back home. You need money, and you’ll probably go nuts if you don’t keep yourself busy.
At least you've got the chance to see some old acquaintances at the agency hub. A couple of former bounty hunters who'd come through your office were now agents at the hub. They're alright, as far as wastelanders go; you hang around with them when you take breaks.
Today’s smoke break has more or less turned into gossip time. You’re happy to listen in on any and all gossip (it’s part of your job, after all) - it’s less enjoyable when the questions turn to you.
One of them, a woman whose teeth were file-sharpened into fangs (creatively named Fang), lives above the bar down the hall from you. She's good natured, if quite terrifying. She leans against the crumbling concrete wall of the hub, taking a drag on a little paper cylinder that smells suspiciously like burning catnip. “I saw that ghoul you came into town with last night. Is he staying with you?”
You nod slowly. “Yeah.”
You’re not inclined to expound upon her question, but she lives down the hall from you. She’s obviously seen the Ghoul creeping into your room at night (he’s not exactly quiet, either), hence the question.
The other, an individual with - conversely - no teeth to speak of (again, creatively named Gums - fuckin’ wastelanders), chimes in. “You're staying with a ghoul?”
“Yeah-”
Fang interrupts you. “And not just a ghoul. The Ghoul.”
“The Ghoul? As in…” Gums raises a sparse, flakey eyebrow. You nod, and they whistle. “Nice. How'd you bag that?”
“Longtime client,” you reply simply. You don’t know Gums as well as you do Fang, but they seem harmless enough. “He got caught in the gunfight when the raiders showed up at my office.”
You neglect to tell them he'd started the gunfight. The less they know, the better.
“Not bad. You could do worse,” Fang observes. “Does his dick look like the rest of him?”
You nod. “Yep.”
Gums grins. “Cool.”
Your break turns into playing hooky the rest of the day, mostly because you don’t want to field any more questions from anyone who’d seen you walking around with the Ghoul. You make yourself scarce for the rest of the day, choosing to wander around town. You haven't been to Filly in years, not since you were a kid. It hasn't changed much. There's still the same derelict bars, saloons, and stores. There's more than one bounty agency here, too, though you don't know which ones. You're only concerned with yours.
Sundown slides over the town by the time you head back over to the bar for the night. Everyone’s locked down and boarded up their places of business, the street vendors have all scattered. You know that Filly after sundown is not a great place to be, but you can hold your own if the need arises.
You're in the mood for a drink tonight, and frankly, there's nothing else to do in Filly after dark that won’t get you shot. When you step into the dingy bar, you make your way up to the bartender and grab a beer. It’s watery and gross-looking, but it smells like beer and you can’t be picky out here in the wasteland.
When you turn around to find somewhere to sit, you spot the Ghoul watching you from a back corner of the bar. You're surprised he’s back by sundown - he’d been rolling in late into the night, long after the moon had risen into the sky. You take your beer and skirt around the chairs and tables littering the bar. 
He cocks his head and watches you approach. He's got a half-full beer mug in one hand - evidence he's been back for a while. He doesn't give you a chance to grab another chair when you reach him. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you down into his lap. 
If you didn't know how much booze it takes to affect a ghoul, you'd assume your Ghoul was drunk, but he's not. He just doesn't seem to care that the few patrons of the bar have their eyes trained on the two of you. Of all the things you expect him to be, possessive is not one - or maybe he is possessive, and this is his warning to the other patrons. You don't care which, and you’re not inclined to give it further thought. Rather, you're distracted by his hand squeezing the top of your thigh.
The Ghoul takes a drink of his beer and rests the glass on your knee. “Any word on the raiders?”
“Other than, it's being handled, no,” you reply. You force your brain to focus away from his hand on your thigh. You don’t want to admit to yourself that’s all it takes for him to get you going. “My agency isn't exactly forthcoming about what goes on behind the scenes.”
“No, they're quiet about how dangerous they are, and they like to keep it that way,” he agrees. He pauses, and grins slightly. “Kind of like you. You're a hell of shot with that rifle.”
Compliments from him are few and far-between - forward compliments at least. He’s far more show than tell. You’re… flattered, actually, that he’s paid attention to you beyond just physically. You know he has, but it’s nice to hear it.
Again, you suspect you may actually like the Ghoul.
“Can't be a bounty agent if you haven't been a bounty hunter before,” you shrug. “I've had plenty of practice.”
He takes a drink of his beer, and says, so, so quietly, “Ditch the agency and come with me. Be a bounty hunter again.”
You raise an eyebrow. He's not serious, surely. 
“I like what I do now, Cooper,” you reply softly. “But my door's always open.”
He nods. “Fair enough.”
The Ghoul returns to people-watching in silence, sipping on his beer and continuously making you more and more nervous with his hand on your thigh. He's taken to rubbing circles into your thigh with his thumb, and he keeps getting closer and closer to the space between your legs. He's not being even remotely inconspicuous, either. More than one person in the bar has caught on to what’s going on in the back corner, if the odd looks you’re getting tell you anything.
You don't try to make him stop (you don’t think you’re capable of asking him to stop), but you do lean back against his shoulder and press your lips to his ear. “You're gonna do this here?”
He looks you dead in the eye. “I'll fuck you right here in this chair with every single person watchin’.”
Yeah, no, he's serious on that one. You can see it in his eyes. Actually, you can feel his dick pressed against the back of your leg, too. 
You blink. “We should probably go upstairs now.”
He chugs the rest of his beer, then pats your leg, motioning for you to stand up. “Should have already gone upstairs.”
You don't disagree. In fact, you don't think you could have stood up any faster. 
The Ghoul looks you up and down with that grin on his face before following you up the stairs. You don't quite make it back to your room before he’s grabbing at you by the waist and pulling you close. He traps you against the wall, body pressing down on you, completely irreverent of anyone walking down the hallway behind you. You grab his face and kiss him; his raw skin is chapped, but soft and cool against yours. The brim of his hat knocks against the top of your head, but you don’t care. 
You scramble to find your door key in your back pocket and only just manage to get your hands on it. You can’t quite manage to get the key in the lock, so he takes a break from what he’s doing (grabbing your tits under your shirt) to take it from you and jam it into the door.
The Ghoul kicks the doors closed behind him with the heel of his boot. The force shakes dust from the walls and kicks dirt up from the floor. With a single-mindedness that takes your breath away, he backs you up to the tiny bed shoved up against the back wall and drops down to his knees.
He strips your pants and underwear down your legs, then prompts you to sit down with a hand on your stomach. As much as you like when he tries to have a little patience, you like it this way more - sloppy, breathless, a little desperate for you. A starving man eating his first meal in days. 
With a tug, he drags your hips over to the edge of the bed and sets to work with his tongue. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch and busy yourself picking open the buttons of your shirt with shaking fingers. You shrug out of your shirt, leaving yourself completely exposed. He hasn't even taken off his hat yet, but you take care of that for him and drop it onto your head.
The Ghoul looks up at you and pauses his ministrations, licking his lips in thought. 
You shrug. “The hat was in the way.”
He doesn't respond, choosing to set his mouth back to better purposes, but he keeps his eyes trained up on your face while he sticks his tongue in your cunt. He's sloppy about it, spreading your lips with his gloved thumbs so he can get better access to you. You buck up against his face, and he doesn't stop you - no, he buries his tongue deeper between your legs and lets you ride his face, all the while still looking up at you with those bright hazel eyes.
Finally, it hits you, and you grin like you've won the damn lottery. “You like me wearing your hat, Cooper?”
He nips your inner thigh with his teeth, making you jump, and sets back to sucking your clit. You take that as a warning not to tease him, but it's so much more fun to know his mouth is too full of you to tease you back.
You don't stop teasing him, knowing full well it's just going to rile him up. “Why don't you come up here so I can ride your face properly, cowboy? I've got the hat to fit the part.”
The Ghoul has had enough of the gloves obstructing his ability to feel your skin. He stops long enough to strip them off, stick a finger in his mouth to coat it with his spit, and press his finger deep into your entrance. You choke on the fullness, the sensation rough but not unwelcome.
“Well, don't get quiet on me now,” he says. 
You stutter, but he can absolutely understand you when you say, “I like riding your face when you're on your knees, too.”
He spreads you apart and licks you, slow and deep, chasing the path of his fingers. He watches you while he does it, eyes never leaving yours. “Is that right?”
You nod. “Sure is.”
You lean over where you sit, where he's still on his knees on the floor, and unbutton his shirt. You expect him to tell you to stop - there's more light in the room this time, after all - but he doesn't. He shrugs his duster and shirt down over his shoulders and lets them hit the floor. This time, you can really see what he looks like. Raw, pitted skin, mostly red but pink-white in places where old scars have healed over time and again, build slight but still muscular. He seems to be waiting for you to pull back, recoil away - stop in your tracks. You grab his face and kiss him, then pull him to his feet.
 You pull him closer by his belt before that comes off, too. Boots and pants next, dropped carelessly to the floor. You take a minute to look and touch, run your hands over exposed skin, and he sighs softly at your touch.
“Look at you, Cooper,” you say. “Aren’t you a sight?”
“You are fuckin’ strange,” the Ghoul comments, but it’s with affection. His version of affection, anyway.
“Yeah,” you shoot back with a grin, “but I don't hear you complaining.”
You take his cock in hand and run your tongue along the vein underneath, making him twitch. You swallow him down, fisting what doesn’t fit in your mouth, until he’s threading his fingers through your hair and pulling you off of him.
The Ghoul deems that to be the extent of what he can take from you. You’re on your back with him crawling over you before your brain registers that he’s moved. He smashes his lips down over yours while his hands creep up along your sides. He wastes no time reaching between your legs and running the head of his cock along your slit. Not for the first time, you marvel at how much you prefer the roughness over his attempts to be patient.
You’ve teased him long enough, you decide, so you wrap your legs around his waist and arch up against him. “Come on, Coop -”
He obliges and thrusts into you, planting one hand next to your head for leverage. The other hand catches your chin and holds you steady while he fucks you. You meet his eyes, and the way he watches you - like it’s a privilege to touch you - makes you ache.
You nudge him with your hip until he rolls on his back. You slide him back inside, hissing at the returning fullness, and grind down on him with your hands on his chest. He wraps his hands around your thighs, squeezing so hard you're sure you'll find new bruises come morning.
You like watching him from up here. The way his jaw clenches, when his head lolls back in response to whatever you're doing, the way his mouth parts in a semi-attempt to say your name or give you direction - it captivates you. You like when he’s speechless - when he can’t pull himself together long enough to tease you.
The Ghoul can feel your hips stutter when you move, grinding down harder each time for any little extra bit of friction. His thumb finds you clit and presses circles into you relentlessly, letting you use the palm of his hand to find the friction you need.
“Go ahead,” he says, breathless, “come on my cock, babydoll.”
You do, with a hand on his chest and the other hand on his wrist, holding him close and steady. It rolls down your back, down your thighs, all the way out to your fingertips, like the wasteland air burning underneath your skin. Your nails bite into his wrist, and that makes him smile - a real grin, not the smug skeleton grin you’re used to getting from him. You return it.
When the Ghoul comes, he wraps an arm around your back to keep you steady and holds you flush against his chest. You sigh at the touch of his skin against yours, his chest pressed against yours, your nipples prickling against him. You take it as he comes, grinding down on him when he fills you up. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder, teeth grazing his raw skin. 
The usual question of radaway? doesn't come this time. You’re not concerned, and neither is he; the dose you took that morning would still be enough.
The Ghoul scoops you up into his side when he’s come back to his senses and rolls you onto your back. You wrap your arms around him and trail a finger down the back of his neck, just barely scratching at his skin with your nails. He burrows his face into your soft chest (the lack of nose is helpful in this regard) and closes his eyes.
After a few minutes, you say, “You know, I’ve liked you since the first time you walked into my office.”
The Ghoul glances up at you before closing his eyes again. “Can’t imagine why.”
“You were all business,” you reply. “I respect that.”
The Ghoul is quiet for a while, long enough you think he’s gone to sleep, but he answers. “Weird way to tell someone you like ‘em.”
You snort. “I’m trying to be nice, dickhead.”
You can feel him grinning against your skin. “Well, baby, that’s on you.”
You shake your head and roll your eyes. “I’ll kick your ass out of this bed.”
“Sure you will,” he replies. “Just remember that when you roll over and grab me like you did this morning.”
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bwere · 13 hours
Text
SHALL WE GO FOR A WALK?
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content: 557+ wc – fluff, [requests are always open]
based on this ask – not proofread + pleasee send requests
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A diligent worker, always the first to arrive and the last to leave. 
His life was consumed by work, leaving no room for leisure or relaxation. His vacation and personal days piled up, untouched and forgotten. He found solace in his work, using it as a distraction from the emptiness that filled his life.
He had gone so long without a true reason in his mind, that it had become a part of him. 
Then suddenly you entered it, like a breath of fresh air. You brought color and warmth into his monochrome world. Nanami found himself looking forward to something other than work. 
Spending more time with you, than his computer screen, while cherishing every moment along the way. 
He’d come home earlier than he used to, knowing that what’s waiting for him back home is his answer.
But recently you started to notice Nanami seemed more sluggish than usual, especially today.
He was in his office more, his fingers piecing away at the keys beneath them. The noise, vibrating through the hallway like it never stopped. 
You suggested that he take the remainder of the day off because you were afraid he was going to start overworking himself again. 
He was initially reluctant about taking your offer, but eventually gave in to your pleas.
To enjoy the small things in life that Nanami had been missing out on, you made the decision to go for a walk. You played a game where you had to find shapes in the clouds while you walked around the city. Nanami watched you with a tender gaze as you pointed at the sky and described the fictitious forms your imagination created. It was not the clouds that intrigued him, but rather the happiness and marvel in your eyes. 
After some time, you arrived at a park where the sun shone radiantly and the golden rays were warm but not sweltering. Sitting on a bench, you two took a moment to relax. Closing his eyes and soaking in the sunlight, Nanami plopped his head back. 
"What's wrong?" He asked whilst sitting up, sensing your gaze passing over his skin. In a way that makes him feel some sense of significance but does not render him to feel uncomfortable. 
To know you love him just as much as he loves you. 
“You’re my weakness.” you huff playfully, as an immense toothy grin began to display at the corners of your lips. 
For a moment he had a perplexed expression, leaving you to your thoughts for no more than a second, until a gradual chuckle appeared in his throat and washed through your ears.
“Do you know what you are?” he questions, sneaking an arm around your waist, pulling as close as he can. A content sigh escapes his lips as his shoulders collapse again against the bench.
“Hmmm what am I?” you reply with a laugh–letting your head fall into the crest of his shoulder.
“My purpose.” 
From that day forward, Nanami made sure to take time for himself, to enjoy the small pleasures of life. But most importantly, he made sure to spend those moments with you, the person who taught him that there was more to life than just work.
And if he started to revert back into his old habits, he knew you’d be there to save him. Always remembering what you told him the day you sunbathed together.
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Text
Arrest Me, But Make it Sexy
Requested Here by @newobsessionweekly!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader
Summary: Tim recruits you to aid in a Metro op. When you ignore his direct orders, you dare him to arrest you, but you have a request.
Warnings: this is pure fluff and banter!! the song reference part is a teeny bit suggestive I guess, but it's completely clean/sfw as always!
Word Count: 1.5k+ words
Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
cop cuties, cute and on duty. navy blue booties, go ahead and lock me up. arrest me, but make it sexy.
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You’ve been a patrol cop since you completed your rookie training with Tim Bradford. Throughout the last few years of working alone, you’ve trusted him enough to ask for advice, offer to work for him and reach out when he was injured. Most cops don’t stay close to their TO, but Tim was always more than that. Somehow, against his will, you think, you and Tim became friends. He knew from the beginning of your training that you were going to be a great cop, which is why he decided to recruit you for a new job.
“Officer,” Tim greets as you walk into Wade’s office.
“Sergeant,” you reply. “I take it I’m here to see you and not be yelled at by Grey.”
“Why do you need to be yelled at?” Tim asks, raising his brows as he crosses his arms.
“Absolutely nothing, sir.”
“Sure. Metro is working a forgery operation, and we need an extra set of hands. I think you’re the right cop for this job.”
“You do?” you ask, suspicious of why he chose you over the hundreds of other choices.
“Yes. But you get to decide. Do you want to join the team and complete your first Metro op?”
“Yes, sir,” you agree. “Thank you for the opportunity.”
“You still have to prove that I’m right,” Tim reminds you. “Gear up, we’re leaving in ten.”
You nod before you exit the office. Working with Tim is something that you’re used to, but not in a Metro team.
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“Get to the corner,” Tim orders.
You stay in place, watching the forger. He’s in plain view, waiting for something and checking his watch every minute or so. That makes him dangerous and reckless. The overview that Tim gave you and the Metro squad at the station didn’t place the suspect outside of his studio.
“Corner, now,” Tim repeats.
“He’s outside,” you radio.
“And you’re not in position.”
You huff and move your hand off of your radio. There’s no chance of catching this guy if you move from your current position. Tim is still going off the original, incorrect intel. Not to mention, moving could spook him and ruin this operation.
Tim says your last name over the radio, and you wait for him to continue. “Get in position.”
“There’s no point,” you argue.
Tim radios for someone else to cover his position as he moves toward you. His approach is nearly silent, but as he squats beside you, you don’t look over at him.
“You have to follow my orders out here,” he reprimands quietly.
“Even if they’re stupid orders?” you reply without looking away from the suspect.
“That’s not your call. This isn’t rookie training where you get input because you’re learning. You do what I say or you’re off my team.”
“I understand that.”
“Then get in your position at the corner,” he orders again.
You don’t listen but remain quiet rather than argue with him again. Tim sighs beside you and clenches his jaw.
“Do you remember where you’re supposed to be?” he asks.
“Yes, sir,” you answer.
“Then get into that position and be ready for the next phase of this op.”
“No, Sergeant Bradford.”
Tim looks at the side of your face. He’s had enough of you acting like a partner who can argue with him. As much as he trusts you, you’re still his subordinate and this is unacceptable, especially in the middle of a Metro operation. Leading Metro is the most rewarding yet challenging position he has had as a cop, and he won’t let you compromise his position or the trust his team has in him.
“You know I can still make arrests, right?” Tim asks harshly.
You raise your brows and turn toward him to snap, “So, what; are you gonna arrest me? For what?”
“For disobeying direct orders! I can arrest you now and put you on desk duty and break room fridge refills for the rest of the month.”
You look back at the suspect before you stand. Tim follows your movement, and you lean toward him to push your finger against his chest.
As you crowd him, you dare, “Arrest me, Officer Bradford. But make it sexy.”
Tim looks between your eyes before he grabs your right shoulder. He spins you quickly and pushes you against the cinder block wall behind you. He wraps one hand around both of your wrists behind your back as his other hand rests against your hip, just above your holster.
“You want to say that again?” Tim asks.
“Not that I expect you to know what a real Degas looks like, Officer,” you taunt loudly, “but the gallery you just destroyed is worth more than your life!”
“What are you doing?” Tim whispers in your ear.
“Go with it,” you request.
“Excuse me!” the suspect calls as he approaches you and Tim. “I couldn’t help but overhear. I’m an art connoisseur, of sorts. What seems to be the problem?”
Tim pulls his handcuffs from his belt and puts them loosely around your wrists. He pulls you away from the wall and against his side as he turns to face the art forger.
“This woman is an art forger,” Tim answers. “So, unless you purchased a Degas painting from her, there’s nothing to be concerned about.”
“I fear that’s impossible,” the man replies. “Degas is nearly impossible to forge. The paint age and brush strokes are dead giveaways.”
“Spoken like a true enjoyer,” you say.
“Shut up,” Tim demands. “Sir, if you’d like to have your art checked by our experts, I’d be happy to make that call for you.”
You nod, a small movement you hope will make the man trust you. The art experts know his signature, so if they can get a look at his work, Tim’s work will be done, and another forger will be behind bars. The crime itself seems too white-collar for Tim’s skills, but a successful arrest is a successful arrest.
“I would appreciate that, Officer,” the man answers. “I can give you access to my collection now.”
Tim radios for the art experts waiting nearby to come in. He keeps a hand around your wrist, his pinky occasionally brushing between your skin and the metal cuff. After the experts enter the warehouse, it only takes two minutes before they radio to Tim that they have the evidence they need.
“You’re in luck, sir,” Tim tells the suspect. “Looks like the only forgeries in there are yours.”
Tim moves his hand from your wrist to your waist and pulls your handcuffs from your belt.
“You’re under arrest for art forgery, possession of stolen goods, and unlawful sale of property,” Tim says as he secures your handcuffs onto the suspect.
Another Metro officer rushes past you and takes the man from Tim to lead him to a waiting patrol car. Tim turns to face you and pulls a pair of aviator sunglasses from his pocket before he puts them on.
“You’re welcome,” you tell him.
“There are better ways to tell your superior officer that a different approach may be better,” he responds, crossing his arms over his chest. “Ignoring orders isn’t it.”
“You weren’t listening!”
“I listened at the end. You did well, but don’t ever do that again.”
You smile and step forward until you nearly hit Tim’s folded arms. “Scared I’ll take your job?”
“You are stubborn, uncompromising, and have no respect for authority,” Tim lists. “My position is safe from you.”
You tilt your head to the side and shrug. Tim radios a code 4, then walks away.
“Are you going to take these cuffs off?” you call after him.
Tim turns and stops a step away from you.
“You’re the one that wanted to be arrested,” he replies. He shrugs and asks, “Was that sexy enough?”
“I mean, yeah, it worked,” you answer. “But defying your orders got you the arrest, so…”
“You have the right to remain silent,” Tim begins.
He continues reciting your Miranda rights as he leads you to his car. His hand trails down your right arm as he puts you in the backseat. Once he gets into the driver’s seat, you realize that the handcuff on your right wrist is loose enough you can get your hand through.
“Defying direct orders is wrong,” you muse. “What if I start a verbal flirtation while you take me to your station?”
“I will arrest you,” Tim threatens.
“With what cuffs?” you ask, spinning his on your finger. “You gave yours away and took mine.”
Tim shakes his head and pulls over. He opens the back door, and you hand him his handcuffs as you climb out.
“If I had to get arrested, I’m glad it was with you,” you say before you round the back of the car to get in the passenger seat.
“I was considering mentioning you for a Metro promotion,” Tim begins as he drives back onto the road. “But after that stunt today…”
“You’ll never see me the same?” you guess.
Tim looks over at you, though you can’t see his eyes past his aviators.
“Something like that,” he murmurs.
“You liked it,” you accuse playfully. “Admit it.”
Tim adjusts his sunglasses and says, “Maybe.”
92 notes · View notes
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not true - Luke Hughes
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summary; Luke Hughes x f!reader. You're daydreaming and writing fanfiction about your favorite player until he reads one.
warning(s); maybe grammar errors, angst, fluff
author's note; it's a mix from my old blurbs/imagines in a new one. Part 2 ?
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Does anyone know the moment, having a crush on an unknown, famous person? Like saving pictures on your phone and using as wallpaper and thinking about how is it to know this person?
You have this moment. It's no secret you're daydreaming much but you're crushing on Luke Hughes for a weeks now. His curls, his smile, his whole attitude looks perfect. You're in your own world thinking how your life would look like- three perfect Luke baby's, a big house and a cute dog. Yeah, you're daydreaming too much.
"I wrote a new Luke fic, wanna read it?", you speak to your internet friend.
It's not like you don't have friends in real life- but talking with them about cute hockey players you don't feel comfortable with. It's your little secret.
"Sure", she replies and excitement swings in her voice. You send this short story with a proud grin, it took you hours to finish it.
"You have to post this! I love it!", screams Jess through the phone speaker.
"I'll do", copy it in your blog and posting it. You're reading nice comments, when a new notification comes on your screen.
'I'm definitely not the worst cook'. That's it, no profile picture, no caption who this person is. It could be fake. Luke Hughes would never read fanfiction about himself.
You're typing fast, 'who are you?'
An reply comes fast.
'Luke Hughes'
You laugh hysterical, someone wants to fail you. Without an answer you go to bed. It's too much information for you and it's late.
A phone call is waking you up, it's vibrating nonstop next to your bed, tired you grab after your phone, "hello?". Your raspy voice is not powerful.
"WHY IS LUKE HUGHES FOLLOWING YOU", Jess talks without friendly manners.
"No he's not, maybe fake", you rub your eyes. It's too early.
"No it's Luke himself! I'm not blind", she talks nonstop like a waterfall.
You check your Instagram - hundreds of new followers and she's right- Luke Hughes started following you.
"I have no clue", you get in shock. You're still dreaming, there's no other explanation for this.
"You better find out why", Jess laughs happy for you. "I'm not living in New Jersey so I don't think there are chances".
You dressed up, went to work and forgot the time like always - until something rings on the phone again.
The phone rings the last hours more than in your entire life.
"I'm not a bad cook", notification from Luke Hughes himself.
The curly man with incredible hockey skills and two hockey brothers and a legend as mom. This Luke Hughes who's your wallpaper like everywhere you use.
You dance with the phone in your hands before you reply. Breath in, breath out; let's go.
"Ok". Not that bad. Unimpressed.
"I can prove you. I'll cook dinner for you".
Dude, there is some space between you two. You don't think he has a private jet.
"I don't live in New Jersey", you smirk whilst sending him. You're a fangirl but not a puck bunny.
"I have a car", with an winking emoji. How can he dare to be such a tease?
Before you could react he calls per chat, his face comes on the screen, his cap on his head, tired looking face. "Hey", he smirks chill and pets his curls.
"Hello", you wave awkwardly. You're in work clothes so you don't look stylish. "Can you give me your adress?", he asks with a voice crack. "I'm not for one night, Hughes", you warn him. You're disappointed, you always thought he's a gentleman.
"Oh no not this way!", his face gets closer to the screen, "you know I love all my fans but I'm really interested to meet you. Not as what you think", he shyly says. He bites on his lip, waiting for your answer. Honestly you don't know how to react. "I'm not a supermodel. And I like to eat, not just salad", you tell him. "Why are you guys always thinking we just like supermodels?", he's frightened. "Because you follow 45 blonde models on Instagram", the answer comes out your mouth like a pistol.
"Instagram is not real life. Do you like meat?", he's still interested in this conversation.
"Yeah", "ok my navigation says I'm there in 3 hours so better be prepared for the best meal you ever ate!", "wait you know my address?", you get worried. "Your friend Jess told me", he laughs shy.
"Oh my God I'm gonna kill her for that",you mumble to yourself. "Do you want to meet me? Your friend told me you're interested, too", he bites in his nails. "yes!!", you scream louder than you should.
"See you later!", he laughs friendly and closes the video chat.
Your poor heart.
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lover-lyn · 2 days
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i wanna request sum lemme be ur first request OKAY HERE ME
ACE X READER GOING TO PROM PLSSS
This took so long and FOR WHAT, not very proud of this tbh, first time writing a one-shot so, hope you like it my love :)
Fem reader implied (reader wears a dress) but no pronouns used, Teen!Ace, modern AU, reader is called "pretty" and "sweetheart"
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Stupid in love
Let's get married in Vegas
We don't need guest list
I don't wanna think too much
Let's get matching tattoos
I don't wanna think it through
Baby, I'm so stupid in love
MAX HUH YUNJIN↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺
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During his short life, Ace had been in many situations that he never thought he'd find himself in
But this won the number one spot for most surprising and nerve wracking
He had been given detention for months on end, he had been grounded by Dadan for an entire year, he had even been arrested before, yet he didn't doubt that he'd be in even more chaotic situations in the future.
Here he was, Portgas D Ace, certified trouble maker and self-proclaimed womaniser stood in front of your porch wearing a suit and holding a flower bouquet
Currently, he was glaringly the door as if it had wronged him. In truth, he was nervous, and incredibly so.
a couple days ago, Ace had been standing on this very porsh, holding a single Hibiscus flower, waiting for you to open the door so he could know the answer to the question hed spent weeks trying to work up the courage to ask, needless to say that he'd been overjoyed upon hearing that you were only waiting for him to ask.
yet for some reason, he feels even more nervous now.
a couple minutes pass until Sce finally felt calm enought to knock, the door opened almost instantly
"there you are, i was starting to think you stood me up"
and there you were, in a ruby red dress, a Hibiscuss flower pinned to the neckline of the garment
"Ace?"
"sorry, hi sweetheart" Ace`s blushing only increased as he heard your quiet giggle "hi" you you replied
"you look pretty, really pretty"
seems as though it was your turn to blush "thank, you don`t look half bad yourself" that was truly a understatment, if anything, Ace looked like a prince straight out of a royal ball with a blood-red three piece suit, his hair was slicked back with just a couple strands falling out of place and onto his face
"can i give you your flowers or would you like to keep checking me out?"
"oh i'm the one checking you out? didn't you forget how to talk as soon as as i opened the door?"
Ace's smirk only widened "come on now, you wear my signature color and expect me not to stare? that's so unfair"
"your color? whoever said red was your colour?"
"me, now take your flowers and let's go"
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"hey good lookin'"
"Sabo i swear to God if you don't shut the fuck up i'm going to castrate you"
as expected, the night had turned out a disaster, how could it not? all of the 'ASL' brothers were attending, granted the youngest had snuck in thru the vents after hearing that their would be a buffet
so while everyone was still inside dancing the night away, both you and Ace sat soaked head to toe in the water foutain, Sabo was relentlessly teasing you while Koala filmed the whole thing for blackmail material
it seemed as tho everyone had forgotten about Luffy, who was curently hiden under the buffet table exitedly stuffing his face full of food he'd nicked from plates the second the security turned his head the other way
yet, looking out onto the scene, you and Ace shared the same thought
there was nowhere else you'd rather be and no one else you'd rather experience this moment with
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one-piece-aus · 3 days
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Unbottle Your Emotions
Eustass Kid x Reader (Part 2)
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Part 1 | Part 2 Ahoy, here with Part 2 of this series. Quick A/N that if Apoo is ooc, I don't care. This story is about Eustass Kid :3 Enjoy ^-^
"Yo yo yo! How are my favourite non-party people doing?"
"Hi Apoo," you greeted the DJ who slung his long arms around you and Hawkins.
Apoo's the extrovert friend that adopted you and Hawkins. At first, you didn't understand why he decided to hang around you guys until he admitted he felt excluded by the social crowd in school. You and Hawkins had let him be a part of the conversation and he liked being around you guys after getting to know you. He invited both of you to a few of his parties but then realized you weren't party people, hence the nickname.
"Greetings Scratchman, are you planning to join us for lunch?" Hawkins asked Apoo while you closed your locker.
"You know it," Apoo replied and took his arms off your shoulders, aware you didn't like physicalness for too long. "Where we heading?"
"We're going to the vegan restaurant Hawkins wanted to try," you answer as the three of you head out of the school.
"What?" Apoo look at you dumbfounded. "I thought you didn't like that stuff [N/n]."
"[Y/n] had been partnered with Eustass in English and their last conversation left her not wanting to face the redhead again, so she asked me to get her stuff and we're going to the restaurant as her returning the favour," Hawkins explained to Apoo.
"Oh, you're partnered with Kid?" Apoo looked to you for a response. Seeing you only nod, made him switch topics. "... Hm, to the restaurant we go. What's going to be served there anyway? Salads?"
"You are aware vegans eat more than just vegetables," Hawkins stated with an unamused expression, though to those who pass by, he still kept the same face.
"My bad." Apoo held up his hands in defence. "But you can't blame a guy for thinking vegans just eat rabbit food."
Hawkins would've glared at the DJ if not for you giggling, seeing you amused made him let it slide for now. "Rest assured, there are a variety of dishes you'll be able to choose from."
"We'll see about that," you said.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Yo, the coconut cheese nachos were da bomb!" Apoo exclaimed as he exited the restaurant. "Who knew vegan food taste so good!"
"Ehhh, I still prefer my burgers," you teased the blond who held the door.
"I'm at least grateful you gave it a try, even if it was for paying back a favour," Hawkins said, letting the door close and joining your side.
"Yeah, yeah." You waved it off.
Your mood has picked up since this morning, practically forgetting what had happened in the first place. You suppose you could thank Apoo for his infectious upbeat vibe. Despite how annoying he can be, it's nice to have someone who can distract you from stressful things in life.
"Next time I'm picking where we eat!" Apoo declared walking backwards in front of you and Hawkins.
"Sure, do me a favour sometime and we'll go." You smiled. "Just as long as it's not you trynna sneak us into a club with a bar again."
"Aw right!" Apoo threw his arm up. "Trust me guys when I say, you are gonna love- Oof!" He stumbled forward when he bumped into something, or rather, someone.
"Watch where you're going," a blue-haired guy said.
"Yo-" Apoo turned around, his defensive mode switched on. "Maybe if you didn't stand around blocking the sidewalk I wouldn't have to," he "countered".
You deadpanned, it's not the first you've seen Apoo puff his pride to where you can hardly tell the difference between him and a barking chihuahua, it just gets old after so many times. Perhaps this attitude of his is the main reason he's excluded from the social crowd at school. Though, it never bothered you much since you knew it wasn't real beef, and Hawkins... tolerated it? Well, he never brought it up so you can only assume as much.
Hawkins rolled his eyes and passed by the two. "Leave it, Scratchman."
"Come on, Apoo." You walked by him and patted the other's shoulder. "Sorry about him."
"Yo, can't you see I'm not the one at fault here?" Apoo questioned you guys.
"People who don't watch their surroundings get killed." The guy glared at Apoo, and that's when you recognized who this guy was. He's Heat from Kid's gang, which means the rest are nearby.
No... no no no. You already didn't want to bump into Kid again, being in range of his anger is so much worse. The thought alone caused stress to weigh on your mind. Haistly, you spun on your heels.
"You threatening me or some- hey!" Apoo didn't finish when you grabbed his arm and scrambled to get away. "Ayo, what gives [Y/n]?"
"Go. Go! Before-"
"What's the going on here?"
Fear ceased your haste, and colour drained from your skin. You knew the voice belonged to Kid before you turned around, though it didn't surprise you that the rest of his crew followed in company. Seems like they came out of one of the restaurants.
"Nuh- nothing! My friend just accidentally bumped into your buddies, sorry about that." You bow to show your respect as you apologize, nudging Apoo to do the same.
"What? I ain't apologizing." Apoo frowned at you.
Kid got ready to pick a bone when he saw you throw a deadly glare at Scratchman while gripping the guy's arm and not two seconds later it had Scratchman saying sorry. He eyed you, intrigued, the actions you just displayed shined a different side of you he had not seen in English class. You gave off the impression you were an academic scatterbrain, then he found out you listen to metal which confused him. You seemed too submissive and agreeable to be into something so hardcore. That glare you threw at Apoo told another story. You were strange, he couldn't figure you out. Perhaps there's more to uncover.
Kid narrowed his eyes at you as if staring at a puzzle. "You should hang out with other classmates, [L/n]."
"It's not like anyone else wants to be around me," you muttered to yourself, not knowing Kid picked it up. "We'll be leaving now, have a good day Eustass." You flashed a soft smile at him.
Little did you know the effect your smile would have on Kid would start something.
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bellarkeselection · 2 days
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2 - Interesting Conversations
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Part 3
The Venus Muse
Not as long of a chapter as I'd like but here it is 😊 if you have any suggestions send them to my ask box
He extended his hand up to me and I smiled, placing my smaller hand in his larger one. “I accept so long as I know which Bridgerton are you?”
“Benedict, Benedict Bridgerton.” He replied, leading me out and onto the dance floor with the entire room having their eyes focused on the two of us.
I shifted my gaze up to his since he was taller than I was even with me wearing the slightly high shoes I was wearing. The others in the grand room began grabbing their own dance partner and the floor was filled with dancing suits and dresses moving about. “You’ll surely be the talk of the town after this night, lord bridgerton.”
“I don’t care much if I am. It is not my responsibility to carry the weight of my family's house on my shoulders.” The bachelor responded. 
His brother Anthony had found a wife last season, his sister Daphnie before that and now this year it was rumored that Colin was the next bachelorette according to the talk of the town. Holding my hand up away from his we slowly danced around in a circle where I chuckled. “So second siblings get to have more fun you say.” 
“Indeed they can. Would you not say the same for yourself?” Benedict asked, twirling me away from his chest throwing my hair all around and my dress twirled with such grace. 
I spun back into his embrace where our noses touched one another and the music began dying down meaning our time may have been limited so I quickly thought on my feet. “My lord, may I be so bold and ask to speak with you somewhere more privately?” 
“I’d love nothing more, princess.” He whispered, taking me by the hand and together we made our way through the crowd. We reached the outside of the ballroom but I figured we would be found if we stayed out there. 
So I squeezed his hand in mine taking the lead to the nearest horse stables that were just outside the nearest door. Benedict allowed himself to be dragged along by the princess in front of him. The fresh air finally hit my face when I busted through the large door. I sighed in relief. “Ah that’s much better. I must admit the castle walls can make me feel a little restricting.” 
“If I’m being honest with you. I don’t care for these seasons as much as others. Though it does give me inspiration for my drawings on occasions.” Benedict stands behind me. 
Spinning around on my feet I grinned hearing the excitement in his voice when he spoke the word of drawing. “You enjoy drawing, Mr. Bridgerton.” 
“I would like to just be Benedict to you, princess.” He nodded his head down to me. 
I chuckled moving across the stables yard until I found a bench to sit on and he joined me. “My father told my mother to just call him George the day she tried to climb over a garden wall so she didn’t have to marry him.” 
“I don’t think I've ever heard of this story. Care to share more details with me.” He scooted closer to me on the bench. 
Shifting my head up towards the sky I clicked my tongue thinking for a moment. My mother had told me how they fell in love despite the conditions my father has on his mind. “It’s a rather long story. I don’t wish to bother you with the full details of it. Surely you have other women you wish to spend your time with.” 
“Don’t let it be the fact that you are the princess and I am just a Bridgerton stop you from telling me the story you wish to tell.” Benedict pressed on touching my hand that was closest to his. 
I met his baby blue eyes asking the question I wanted him to answer. “Are we not expected to follow the rules of society that we have been born into?” 
“In my opinion I don’t wish to follow the traditional rules of society. Society leaves very little room for us to explore different passions. Whether it be through art, clothing, music or making our own beliefs.” Benedict moved his hands around as he declared about having some desire outside of just finding a wife or husband. 
Tucking hair behind my ear I felt the heavy weight of the crown on my head begin to disappear. “You make it sound so easy.” 
“Should it not be for you?” He asked me so calmly. 
I snorted shrugging my shoulders, explaining my situation to the lord sitting beside me. I wished the things that he was saying could be true, but I was far beyond ever seeing such freedom. “I may be a princess but it doesn’t mean I get to explore the world like I hoped.”
“What if I helped give you that chance.” Benedict asked me with that cheeky smile on his face. 
“How so?” I tilted my head to the side, very curious to what he was planning in his head only having met me a few minutes ago. 
He spoke up with passion. I almost believed it could work. “We could go strolling through the shops together, I could show you my art in the house we are staying near here or even just keep meeting in secret to have these conversations like this if it's what you truly desire.” 
“Benedict, that all sounds wonderful. But what if we get caught?” I was still uncertain of the bad consequences. 
A different woman's voice enters our conversation causing me and Benedict to turn our heads in the opposite direction seeing a girl with dark black hair wearing a light colored dress. “Live out of society's expectations please I beg of you.”
“Princess Y/n, I’d like you to meet my sister Eloise Bridgerton.” Benedict raised his hand out gesturing to the girl standing a few steps away from us. Her mouth hung open at the same time as mine, both in utter shock of meeting the other in this type of situation. For my mothers enjoyment I must say this season looks to be an interesting one from my current perspective. 
Comments really appreciated ❤️ Tag list - just ask to be added @abq654 @your-musicguru @imgondeletedis @eruannaaa-blog @cherrylovers-world @benedictbridgertonss @callmedarlingsstuff @carrotcaratsworld @sillynilly27 @emmampl-blog2 @bright-molina @erynel1zasworld @ynbutbetter @stranger-chan @blckbarbiedoll @sanaar3006 @urmoom12345 @ritz-hell-hotel @ritz-hell-hotel
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lolathestoryteller · 2 days
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Until the end, i’ll stay by your side (May 22 prompt; Undercover) @jilymicrofics
“Hold on,” James raises his hand, effectively stopping Harry from further explaining this, admittedly quite brilliant, yet ridiculous plan to the entire Order of the Phoenix. “You want to just stride into Hogwarts, where Voldemort’s men—”
“Don’t say his name!” Arthur Weasley interrupts sharply, and James sighs, raising his hands apologetically.
“Dad.” Harry says, drawing James’s attention back to him — his son.
His son whom he has not seen in months. Now sat before him, as though he hadn’t ran off to search for Horcruxes without ever telling them.
“This is our only chance. We have to do it tonight. Aberforth will send you all through the secret passageway right into the room of requirement and then—“
“Us?” Lily asks, her eyes set on their son as well, though her fingers squeeze his under the table with a painful amount of force. “What about you?”
Harry looks to Ron, then Hermione, before meeting her eyes. “We’ll go ahead, undercover. There’s…still a hidden Horcrux somewhere inside the castle.” he explains, though James can already feel Lily’s disapproval radiating off of her before she even speaks.
“No.” she replies, and it isn’t a suggestion.
Though, Harry seems to either not notice, or he doesn’t care. “Yes.” he insists, his green eyes filled with a fire so familiar, James would only have to look to his left, to Lily, to see it reflected. “Mum, I have to find it.”
“We’ll come with you.” she replies in a heartbeat, and James can only nod along fervently.
Harry looks like he would love to grant them their request, but James already knows they can’t. It’s something Harry and his mates have to do by themselves. It kills him that he cannot find that bloody Horcrux himself…anything so Harry wouldn’t have to.
“Alright,” he concedes, looking at Harry intently. “We’ll meet you in the great hall, just like you planned.”
“James—“ Lily looks to him in appall, but he takes her hands both in his to hush her.
“Lil, he’s right. We’ve got to let them do it. They’ve been looking for these Horcruxes for months…and…the castle will be full with his people. They need us for distraction.” he says calmly, despite the worry eating at his insides.
She looks like she’s about to cry, or scream, and he understands— never would he have imagined them sending Harry off into Voldemort’s lair by himself…but Harry isn’t a little boy anymore. “Lily, let him go.” he whispers, only for her to hear.
She blinks against the subtle, yet stubborn glimmer of tears, bravely swallowing them until, at last, she gives in. “Alright,” she resides, her voice not as convincing as he’d hoped— for Harry’s sake— though, who could blame her?
“But,” she turns back to look at their son, reaching across the table to take his hand into hers. “Promise to meet us in the great hall.”
Harry smiles ever so slightly, despite how utterly exhausted he must be. “I promise.”
“And if anything goes wrong—“
“Mum,” he interrupts Lily’s ramble with a shake of his head. “It’ll be fine.”
James wraps an arm around Lily’s shoulders, letting her fall against his side as they both stare at their grown up boy. “We’ll wait for you there, yeah?” he asks, taking Harry’s other hand into his.
Harry looks back at them with a raw, unbreakable determination. “I won’t let him win.” he promises— James doesn’t know how his son could make such a promise, when his enemy is so powerful, yet…something about the way Harry says it makes him believe it too.
“When…he comes…” Harry barely whispers, his hand now cold in James’s. “You’ll stay with me?”
It doesn’t take either of them even a second to answer;
“Until the end.” James replies, squeezing Harry’s fingers.
“Always.” Lily promises.
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riri0000i · 1 day
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Choso had always been the easy target. Since kindergarten. He was mentally weak, anti-social, and never responded to any provocation. Girls called him creepy, a freak, while boys raised their hands at him as a "joke". He spent mornings at school trying to not be noticed by people like you, without any success, of course. He had no one to hang out with and the only thing he did outside school was taking care of his siblings and pulling all-nighters in front of the computer, talking to the only people who could understand his loneliness.
A real loser.
" Oops, my bad Choso!" You chimed with a fake guilty face. Your friends were all laughing, some even taking pictures with their smartphones. Choso didn't move an inch from his chair, letting you pour the probably expired milk carton on his head.
" Hey! Don't frame me with this creep too." You said, noticing that a friend of yours was also taking pictures of you.
" It's not like the teacher cares anyway. " She responded. She was right: teachers gained nothing from defending students like Choso. Your school was one of those elite schools, mainly attended by people like you: rich and mean, with disgusting pastimes like making other people's lives miserable. And then there were those like Choso, who had earned the scholarship by studying.
" I know, but today I forgot to put my lashes on." Your answer made your friends laugh again and you joined them. Before class began you looked at Choso, drenched in milk. You met his tired eyes, as soon as he noticed your gaze he looked down. His weakness pissed you off.
“ Pathetic dog.”
౨ৎ⋆˚。⋆
The chemistry professor was explaining biomolecules, there were maybe five students who were actually listening to him. You were not one of them: you were scrolling on your phone and the few times you looked up you watched how your friends sitting next to Choso tormented him, by kicking at his chair or throwing pieces of paper at him. Nothing new.
" For this topic I would like you to work in pairs by doing a project. I will select the pairs based on your grades." The teacher said before clearing his throat for the umpteenth time.
Shit, this is the worst.
You had seen the scoreboard from the last chemistry test and you were last while Choso... He was first, just like in any other subject. The teacher began to list the pairs and, as you predicted, you ended up with that loser. When Choso heard your name he felt his stomach turn in anxiety, he feared you more than anyone else. To him you were simply cruel. There was no sign, however slight, of kindness in your soul. To make it worse was your pretty face which, at first glance, was impossible to associate with your awful personality. Choso would be lying if he said he didn't find you attractive. Maybe you were the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on.
" Turn in the project by next week." The teacher concluded before the bell rang.
" Can't believe that you have to do this with that creep!" Your friend laughed.
After a sigh: " Fuck it, I hate that teacher. Bet he did it on purpose." You said with a pissed tone. You noticed that Choso was watching you. You got up from your chair with another annoyed sigh and positioned yourself in front of his desk: hands on your hips and a fake smile on your lips, the usual one you used to make before saying a cruel comment.
" I don't want to be seen hanging around with you, much less in my house." You spat.
Choso replied in his insecure, shaky voice: " We can do it at my house... I warn you I have brothers so—
" Okay. See you later."
౨ৎ⋆˚。⋆
Number not Saved : 602. Apartment building X. Near Y station.
You : I'm taking the train rn.
Choso was nervous. It was his first time having a girl at home. Fortunately his brothers were staying late at school that day. He quickly took a shower, getting rid of the smell of milk that earned him several stares by strangers. Being the loser he was, he asked for advice on Reddit to avoid being overly weird.
Knock Knock.
Choso jumped at the knocks on the door, interrupting his reading “How to Look More Sociable in 3 Steps”. You arrived a little late, not expecting the train to take so long.
" Come in..." He said, opening the door for you. You didn’t even say hello, you just sighed, as if you were forced to do the hardest work job on earth. As you looked around (It was the first time you had seen such a small apartment) Choso couldn’t look away from your body. You were so cute in that little outfit. It was the first time he had seen you without your uniform outside school. He would never admit it but Choso stalkled your instagram account several times (resulting in messy erections every time you posted bikini photos). The miniskirt you were wearing was surely going to distract him. He felt something twitching in his pants. Face instantly pink in embarrassment.
Oh. Oh no. No. God, no.
“ Are we doing this stupid project or what?” You asked, breaking the silence. Lucky him, he was wearing loose clothes. You didn’t notice anything.
“ Oh. Yeah… Follow me.” He responded quietly, his body tensing up. You noticed how Choso loses some of his loser appearance without the school uniform. He wore black sweatpants, a baggy sweater and his usual glasses. If he was one of your friends you might have complimented his look.
" Uhh.. You can sit on the bed… Or on the chair, you decide." He said in his usual passive tone. You huffed, sitting on his bed. It smelled like him. You were quite disappointed by the normality of his room (yes, you were expecting an otaku room: full of action figures, bodypillows and posters).
That miniskirt…I bet she did it on purpose. The sight of a pretty girl like you on his bed made Choso’s mouth go dry. He hated you but at the same time it was impossible to not admire your beauty.
" Hope you don't expect me to do anything about that project, do you, Choso?" You said with a smile on your lips. Obviously, Choso knew he would do most, if not all, of the work. He nodded, muttering something to himself. Before you could add any mean comment Choso sat down and started typing on his keyboard. Your initial idea was to find something weird, or childish, in his room and bully him but it was all so… Normal. With the excuse of going to the bathroom you explored the house.
Oh. One of his brothers is Itadori Yuuji? You looked at one of the photos hanging in the hallway. Although he didn't attend your school, Itadori Yuuji was quite popular. And he was popular for good reasons: athletic, generous and nice. You returned to Choso's room, who seemed focused on his work. You looked at him. It annoyed you to admit it but—he had a nice face. Cute, if you had to be honest. But he was unable to maintain a good self-image: he stuttered and couldn't keep eye contact, dark circles partly hidden by the nerdy glasses he wore, hair loose and messy and his posture screamed "I'm weak.”
Ugh. How can Choso be related to Itadori?
After a while: " I'm getting bored." You said as you approached Choso. His heart missed a beat, the last time you had said those words one of your friends put out a cigarette on Choso's palm just to entertain you.
" Uh, umm.. I doubt there's anything fun here..."
" Don't you have any games on your computer?" Choso was taken aback by your question.
" …Y-Yes?" He answered but Choso was sure you had other intentions, like finding another way to bully him. Standing up, you placed yourself beside him, leaning against his chair. Choso could smell a sugary scent from your clothes and hair, it was intoxicating. You watched how his long fingers trembled.
Oh, his hands are so big.
" Uh, uhmm y-you can sit here… I'll get another chair— Before Choso could add another word you sat on his lap. His body froze in surprise. Your ass on his crotch. You rested your back on his muscular chest, waiting for him to start playing. How was he supposed to respond to this?
" Oh, I like this game." You commented as if nothing was wrong.
“ R-Really..? I’ll p,play it then…”
He’s already hard.
To hold the controller Choso had to practically hug you. The way he would struggle to stay still and whisper an "I'm sorry" every time he accidentally touched you was so funny to you. But it was even more fun to rub your warm pussy against his erected sex, feeling his hot breath against the skin of your neck.
“ D-Don’t … P-Please, don’t move like that..” He nervously gulped. Because of that miniskirt Choso could sense the slightest movement you made against his body and thanks to that miniskirt you could feel how Choso's erection throbbed against your panties.
“ Like what?” You teased, shifting your weight again. Choso's body was trembling. You could feel his heartbeat racing. He was squeezing the controller to maintain his calm, feeling his inside burning at the softness of your body against his crotch. The miniskirt you were wearing was not helping at all, allowing Choso the sight of your lacy pink panties. It made his head dizzy and his erection harder, almost painful. How can a girl like you be so naughty?
" I.. S-Stop teasing me." He finally spoke up, trying to sound angry. His voice shaky and weak. You smiled and finally turned your body, now face-to-face with him. The movement resulted in another rubbing against his cock, now covered with a layer of sticky precum. Choso's face was red with embarrassment, his eyes glossy and he tried his best to hold back little moans by biting his lip. He was a mess.
" Choso~" Having you in front of him was wayy worse. You were so pretty and so close , your soft tits pressed against his sweaty chest. On your face that mischievous, almost cruel, smile. Your cheeks pink and your breath left shivers on his skin. His tip poked your wet cunt. You could feel he was big.
Maybe eight inches? It’s always the quiet ones.
" I, I can't take it anymore, p-please..." He whined like a little puppy. You gently moved a few strands of hair behind his ear and took off his glasses, throwing them on the floor. Shit, he was really handsome like that. You kissed him. Choso’s first kiss. Your lips soft and hot, leaving trails of a cherry gloss on his. He moaned inside your mouth, unable to follow your lewd rhythm. Your scent, your taste and your touch were making him obsessed, resulting in a messy and incoherent kiss.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is too much. He reached his limit. The same second you tried to reach the tip of his cock with your fingers he came, sobbing your name and leaving a cum stain on his pants.
“ I,I’m s—sorry…” His voice breathless, dick still twitching in pleasure. He continued to apologize with teary eyes, without knowing how erotic that scene was to you.
I want to fuck him.
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hot-bumblebees · 2 days
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Pain killer
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cw: Use of weed for pain killers, chronic pain.
Anyway I head cannon that Sanemi experiences chronic pain. He just gives off that vibe. Like his scars and lower back are just fucked and Shinobu can’t find a cure. So here’s some Sanemi hurt/comfort. Also my first nonsmut post so yay.
Enjoy
Sanemis house had been lifeless for the past two weeks, except for the staff that took care of it. Every time you came by he wasn’t there and the servants had told you that he hadn’t come back yet. You knew he was somewhat of a workaholic. But he’d usually only go out for a week then came back or he would tell you that the mission he was sent on was a longer one. But you hadn’t heard from him directly. You heard from other workers, wether it’s the kakushi or other swordsmen that he had been on some sort of rampage and that he was even more pissed off and irritable than he normally was. You felt bad for whoever had to interact with him after hearing that. You loved Sanemi but you knew what he was like.
A few more days went before you decided to go check again. The sun was starting to set by the time you got to his house. But unlike the other times you went there there were lights on in the house. You felt yourself get exited by the way the smile on your face was pushing your cheeks up and by the way you speed up. You didn’t even knock on the door, simply letting yourself inside and went on the hunt for Sanemi. You started to look around for him but it didn’t take long to track him down with the way the blunt he was smoking smelt. You followed the pungent smell all the way to his bathroom. The door was slightly closed with a warm light spilling through the crack. This time you gently knocked as you called out his name. You heard water swooshing before you heard a ‘what’ with barley any bark.
“Can I come in? It’s Y/n?” You didn’t want him thinking that you were one of his staff.
He sighed before letting out a little ‘yeah’.
You opened the door to Sanemi in the bath with an ash tray on the side of the tub with one joint bud in it. There where a few candles Illuminating the room helping you see Sanemi. He had two new wounds, one on his arm and one on his leg. As you approached him his eyes lazily opened to see you, his pupils blown and his scalaria was bloodshot.
Seeing him now made you sad. It made sense now. His rampage and attitude. The poor thing was in pain. You knew that he had chronic pain from the scars on his face and in his lower back from who knows what, that’s one of the main reason he smoked, was to help the pain but also help calm his mind. His rampage, Sanemi is not the type of person to listen to his body nor his soul, choosing to ignore it until it becomes unbearable. He probably went on missions to prove to himself that he’s a pillar and he shouldn’t let this ‘miniute’ thing get in the way. What he didn’t understand is that no matter your status or who you are, every one deserves to rest and enjoy life.
You sat down on the floor beside the bath tub, facing him. His pretty purple eyes wondered around before finding yours. He looked so tiered.
“Hi Sanemi.” You probably greeted.
“Hi.” He replied calmly.
“I haven’t seen you in a while. How have you been?” You ask already knowing the answer.
Sanemi gives you a sour look before he closes his eyes again.” Annoyed, miserable, in pain. Nothing new.”
You frown a little as you go to grab his hand that was in the water, gently rubbing his knuckles.” Sanemi you have to start taking care of yourself. Listen to your body. I know it makes you feel weak, but I hate seeing you like this. And I know you hate being in this state.” You tell him briefly.
His eyes open briefly for a moment to roll them.” If you’re here just to piss me off then leave. I don’t have the energy right now.” He grumbles.
It was your turn to roll your eyes now: must he always be this difficult?” I’m here to give a fuck about your wellbeing whether you like it or not. You need to rest. I don’t care what your status is. You literally have chronic pain, you’re not like other people. You need to take it easier more often and that’s ok. It’s ok to take a break.” You argue back with no actual bite.
“Shut up.” Was all he could say, knowing you were right. Knowing you, you’ve probably already told Kagaya that he would not be going to work.
“Not going to.” You bring his hand up to kiss it.” Anyway, where does it hurt?” You ask putting his hand back in the water.
He moves around for a moment before getting comfortable again.” The scar across my nose feels like it’s on fire and I feel like I’m being stabbed in my back constantly. And it’s worse than it normally is.” He explains, sounding tired.
You murmur a quiet ‘I wonder why’ as you roll you eyes. Making Sanemi glare at you.” Well once you’re done in here I can give you a massage if you want?” You offer knowing that it helped him.
“Please.” It came out as a plead.
….
Eventually he wanted to come out, so you helped him then handed him a towel. You guys walked to his room slowly and gave him pyjama pants to put on. Once he did that he sat down on his bed cross legged.
“Where do you want me to start? Face? Back?” You ask as you get ready to grab a product. Instead of responding he just flipped onto his stomach and laid there. You grabbed a massage oil and went to sit on your knees beside him. You unscrew the lid and use the dropper to pour the lavender scented cbd oil onto his lower back and placed the oil back onto the floor. You spread the oil around the scared surface making sure to apply a pleasant amount of pressure, then come back to the main focus being his lower back.
You run your thumbs down his spinal cord hitting a certain spot that made him tense up in discomfort. You keep going up his spine and then move your hands back down his lats to repeat the motion knowing that it would cause him some discomfort. You leaned over to press gentle kisses on his shoulders to try and help distract him from the sharp pain shooting down his legs.
“Please. I need a break. It really hurts.” His request almost sounded like a beg. Without saying anything you moved to his shoulder blades and began working on the knots tangled in there. It seemed to have calmed him. He didn’t tense up that much anymore and he wasn’t letting out sounds of pain, instead he was sighing and almost moaning from the feeling.
“You should go for acupuncture it might help. I’ve heard of many people who’ve benefited from it.” You suggested as both your hands work on a knot in his left shoulder.” And the acupuncturist at the butterfly mansion is very nice. I could an appointment with her for you.” You offer, feeling the knot dissipate in his shoulder.
“I’ll think about it.” He mumbled, too lost in the feeling of the pleasurable pain taking place on his upper back, but unfortunately that was going to end as you work your hands down his back again.” K I’m going to work your lower back again.” You warn while your hands travel down his back again. He lets out an exasperated sigh.
Once again the pain starts up again. Although it has loosened up since earlier it still hurts like a mother fucker, so much so that tears started to form on his lash line. Each time you hit a certain nerve it felt like he was getting stabbed with an inflamed knife the made the nerves going down to his legs catch on fire. It was a terrible pain. Some times when he went on missions he would find himself quietly but angrily crying as the pain took over all his senses. It wasn’t like he couldn’t handle the pain initially, but he had to feel it nearly every day, the pain varying from day to day, it was constant and frustrating. Some days were almost painless, but on the really bad days like today he would usually cry and smoke a blunt to try and ease the pain with a hot bath. But that could only do so much.
“Your doing so good Sanemi.” You praise, trying to help comfort him after you heard him sniffle.” We’re almost done. Ok? A few more minutes.” You tell him.
Sanemi didn’t respond, too busy thinking about the incredible pain he felt. You kept doing your thing, doing different moments to try and ease the pain for later. But Sanemi started jerking around and shaking. His breathing became rugged along with the occasional sniffle.” Please-“ he took a deep breath, closing his eyes as a few tears soak the bed beneath him.” Please stop.” He demanded surprisingly kindly.
You took your hands away and stopped every thing.” Do you want to continue or no?”
“No.” He said quickly.
“Ok, we can do your face then?” Not knowing if he was still up to it. He turned around and sat up, looking in your eyes for a bit.
“Ya…” He said slowly.” Just let me smoke again.” He said and went to reach for his night stand where he kept his case with joints in it.
“Ok I’m gonna go get some stuff. Ok?” You say as you get up and leave, watching Sanemi light his joint with the cute lighter you got him.
When you get back Sanemi’s laying on his futon, staring at the celling. You went to go sit crossed legged by his head, pushing his head up so you could put it back on your lap. You look down at his pudgy face, it looked so relaxed. You grab a hot wet towel that you brought and gently massage/ rub his face. He let out a pleasured sigh as the corner of his lips tilted up in a small smile.
The hot towel felt amazing on his scar, the heat melted away the aching pain that caused him so much anguish. You let him enjoy the the towel for a little longer then put the towel on the floor. You picked up the bottle off the floor and dropped a few drops of serum on his face, then close the bottle and put in on the floor. You bring your hands back up to his face and rub the serum into his scared face. You make sure to rub you fingers against the scar, gently stretching the tissue.
This was a lot less painful then his back that’s for sure. This was more relaxing than his back, he was actually enjoying the whole thing. He wasn’t showing any signs of discomfort.
Sanemi let out a pleased sigh and half opened his eyes. A small smile appeared on his lips as he looked up at you with literal hearts in his eyes. Grabbing your hand from his face he brought it down towards to his mouth and kissed you knuckles.” I love you so much. So nice to me…” He closed his eyes, losing his train of thought and letting out a laugh over nothing.
You giggle too, he was so cute when he didn’t have a stick up his ass 24/7.
You continued until you noticed that Sanemis breathing slowed down and he wasn’t reacting anymore. You slowly stopped what you were doing before moving him off to make him lay down. You got up to go get yourself ready for bed.
When you came back you laid down on the futon beside him and pulled his face into your chest, leaving one in his hair to play his white hair and the other one went to rub his back.
His eyes opened a little and looked up at you.” I’m supposed to be cuddling you. Rub your hair… take care of you…” He pouts, closing his eyes and weakly tries to fight his way to being the one draped over you. You quickly shut that down by holding him tighter.
“Sanemi shut the fuck up and let me pamper you.” You say as lovingly as you can. He let out a dramatic sigh but cooperated therefor you loosened your hold on him. Sanemi pulled closer and whispered a barely coherent ‘I love you’ as he easily dozed off. You let out a small giggle.”I love you too.” You whisper back with a smile as you peck his forehead with a small kiss before you also doze off.
A/n: anyway I feel like Sanemi is a cannabis user more than a drinker. He seems like someone who needs their mind to shhhhut the hell up, if not he’ll go insane. So ya. See y’all later chat city.
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siampie · 2 days
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Get Off the Highway || Chapter 4
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader
Word Count: 1.8k 
Warnings/tags: Enemies to lovers trope, angst, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome
A/N: Short chapter to introduce Reader to the bunker and having more interactions between Reader and Dean.
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You stumbled into your kitchen while your coffee was brewing. You had come back after a difficult hunt that had left you with a couple of stitches on your hip, and a few bruises on your face and body. You swallowed some painkillers with your coffee. This was going to be a slow day for you. No hunts. No visits from family. Just you and your cup of coffee, and probably some television. The perfect rest day. Your eyes drifted to your living room. On the wall facing you, there was a framed photo of your family. One of the rare ones that you still had.
Life at home wasn't always ideal when you were growing up. Your parents were not the bests example of loving and compassionate parents. They could be neglectful and somewhat abusive. You had taken their sides over your siblings more times than not, only to keep the peace. Trying to maintain chaos at bay. Of course, your siblings had resented you over the years because you weren’t doing enough for them. And they were right. You had not.
You tried to make up for it these days but it was hard to when your siblings were barely talking to you. Except maybe for your brother; Matt; the only one who still made sure you were taken care of. You were lucky to have him still. Still, you did not understand why he kept coming around.
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A loud knock on your front door disturbed the quietness of your apartment. “I’m coming.” You secured the fresh bandage on your hip, before going to your front door. You grabbed your gun on your way there. You looked through the peephole. It was your brother.
“You look like shit.” Matt said, once you let him in.
“Thanks.” You answered dryly. “But you should see the other guy.” You said jokingly as you shut the door behind him.
He put down the bags he was holding on the kitchen table, and turned to you. He rested his hands on your shoulders and looked down at you. “You’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” You assured him. "I still know how to take a beating."
"Not funny." He berated you lightly.
"Sorry." His eyes roamed over your face. After, he was satisfied with his inspection, he pulled you into a hug. “Come here.”
You wrapped your arms around him, and just let yourself enjoy the simple hug. It was just a hug but it felt like everything you needed.
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“No, no, no.” You heard from behind you. You excused yourself as you were being pulled aside by none other than Dean Winchester.
“Hey, Bucko!” You smiled at him, ripping your arm out of his grip. “Sam.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean asked you, already annoyed at your being here.
“Pleasure to see you too, Winchester.” You replied dryly, ripping you arm out of his grip.
He gave you a deadpan look, “that’s our hunt. And you’re not taking it from us.”
“Didn’t know there was an ongoing competition between us.” You said with a wry smile.
“Competition?” Dean repeated and looked you up and down. “Barely.”
You gasped. “You did not just give me the up and down look, did ya?”
“What are you gonna do about it, Princess?”
“Alright, you two,” Sam wore an amused smile on his face. “Maybe we can find a way to work together.”
“You’re right,” you nodded. “We wouldn’t want a repeat of last time fiasco. Right, Bucko?”
You walked past him, and patted his shoulder. Sam chuckled as he followed you inside. Months had passed since you last saw them. Only hearing of them in passing, although you'd rather have loved no mentions of them. Or more specifically of Dean. You felt bad for putting Sam in the same category as his brother but they were a package deal. And those two seemed to be attached to the hip.
You were still sporting a few bruises from your last hunt. Matt had wanted you to stay longer at your apartment, to take a longer rest. But you were starting to stir crazy, sitting in your couch all day. And you couldn’t sit still any longer. Although, he disagreed with your decision to go back on the road, he made you promise that you’d take it easy.
Or at least you promised you’d try.
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“You really are the worse, you know that.” Dean glared down at you.
“And you’re an asshole but I’m not complaining about it, now, am I?” You shot back following him and his brother back to their car.
The hunt had gone pretty smoothly. Once you had figured out that it was a revenant, and once it was confirmed by the absence of a body in the grave. You all set out to get the monster back in its coffin, and used silver to make sure it remained there.
“It’s not that hard to follow simple instructions, now, is it?” Dean threw his shovel into the trunk of his car.
“No, it’s not. But it becomes stupid to follow them when one of you is in a bad situation. And it clearly looked like you needed help.” You retorted, your shovel joining his own.
“I was handling it, princess.”
“Didn’t look like you were, bucko.”
You both glared at each other, angrily. No matter what you did, Dean still saw you as a nuisance. A thorn in his side that he was trying to get rid of. And you couldn’t understand why. You had done nothing to provoke his blatant hostility. And you’d think that after saving his life, once again, he would just drop the attitude. But it seemed to only anger him even more.
The petty person within met him at his level. Fighting fire with fire. But the people pleaser within, just couldn’t stand the idea of him not liking you. You didn’t understand why and couldn’t figure it out. And you hated it.
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You followed the Winchesters down the spiraling stairs that led you deeper into the bunker.  Sam, more than his brother, had invited you back to their new location. Sam had given you a quick tour. As quick as it could be in this huge place. There were many bedrooms, a kitchen, a war room, and many other places of the sort. But most importantly there was also a large library.
“That place is sweet.” You had beamed, walking into the kitchen behind Sam.
“Yeah, it’s pretty great.” Sam nodded, smiling.
“How did you find it?”
“None of your business, kid.”
You rolled your eyes at Dean as he walked past you, “alright, keep your secrets.” You turned to Sam. “If I ever need to research things, can I borrow some of those books?” You pointed towards the library.
“You’re welcome to it,” Sam grinned at you. “Anytime you need.”
“Yeah.” You squealed, Dean turned to you before rolling his eyes. “Sorry.”
Later, you found yourself in the library reading a book about some wiccan rituals. Nothing you really needed to know but you had picked it out of curiosity, you were intrigued by the title. Sam was sitting across from you working on his laptop, probably searching for another hunt, you thought. Dean was wherever the hell Dean was, you couldn’t care less.
“I’ve said it before and I’m saying it again. This place is amazing.” You suddenly said, shutting the book before pushing it away from you. Sam looked up from his laptop at you. “Can you imagine how much knowledge those people have gathered over the years?” You continued gushing. “I mean, it must be infinite.”
“I don’t think it’s infinite but huge, yeah.” Sam agreed. “It would probably make hunting easier.”
“Definitely.” You leaned back into your chair. “You guys are so lucky to have found this place.”
“You know if you ever need a place to lay low, you’re welcome to stop by.” Sam offered.
You smiled at him. “That’s really kind of you but I already have a place like that. I mean - not exactly like that. I have a place to lay low, between two hunts.” You spoke. “My brother is making sure that I stop by every once in a while, just to check if I’m still alive.”
“Older?”
“Younger.” You told him. “He likes taking care of me, so I let him do it.”
“Sounds like you two are very close.”
“Wasn’t always this way.” You pushed out a sigh. “It’s funny, you know ‘cause growing up, we hated each other. And nowadays, he is the only person I can count on.”
“But he’s not hunting with you.” Sam noted.
“That’s because he’s not a hunter.” You leaned your elbows on the table. “Unlike you, Winchesters, hunting is not exactly a family business.”
It wasn’t. Hunting had stumbled upon you one day. So, you told Sam everything about the night where it all began for you. You never were a big fan of camping. Naturally, when your best friend suggested you go on a camping trip, you refused at first. And with much insistence on her part, you finally agreed. But the camping trip had turned bloody and deadly pretty quickly. You and your group had found yourself on a Wendigo hunting ground.
This encounter had changed your entire world. It opened your eyes to the underground world of hunting. Silent warriors that kept evil at bay at the risks of their own lives. Receiving no rewards and no gratitude. Not exactly a career you would have chosen for yourself. But as said previously, you couldn’t go back to your life and continue your existence as though you knew nothing of this world. Not after you had a glimpse of it.
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“Don’t talk to me.” You said before Dean could utter a word as he walked into the kitchen. The sight of him alone, in his grey robe, his messy bed hair, was enough to irritate you.
“Well, someone’s cranky today.” Dean walked to the coffee pot.
“Well, someone needs to shut up.”
“Guys, please—” Sam sighed, sitting down next to you.
“She started it.” Dean replied to his brother.
“What are you? 12?” You shot back at him.
“I’m 12? What does that make you then?” Dean argued back.
Sam got up with his coffee and breakfast and left the kitchen. “Look, what you did? You made Sam run away. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
“Nah, that one’s not on me.” He sat across from you. “He ran away because of your ugly mug.”
“Is that the best you can come up with?” You said in a bored tone, taking another sip.
“Shut up.”
You hummed, nodding your head, “great come back.” You stood up, and moved to leave the room. “You look ridiculous in that robe, by the way.”
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bts-fic-collection · 1 year
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champagnefountains · 3 months
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LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.
CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.
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Previous chapter: [x] Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited). Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used. Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).
It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief). 
Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.
Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.  
So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud. 
“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?” 
“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan. 
The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.
Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks. 
“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.” 
There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”
A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”
Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard. 
“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!” 
Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake. 
“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.” 
“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?” 
For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.
If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.
“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.
“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on. 
Earlier on:
On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.
You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.
Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement. 
“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”  
“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding. 
"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I’m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.” 
You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor’s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.
“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot. 
“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes. 
“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?” 
Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!” 
“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page. 
“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.
“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.” 
There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.
“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you. 
Currently:
Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear. 
After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.
After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him. 
Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie. 
“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–” 
“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.
As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.
“Oh, fuck no!”
Chapter III - Finale [x]
Thank you for reading!
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