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babyboibucky · 3 years

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The Match - Part 15

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: You find yourself involved in a situation between Bucky and his father.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Uhhhhhh none, sadly no smut lmfao

A/N: SURPRISE UPDATE LMFAO replies to y’alls reaction for this might be delayed though because I am swamped with work this week and I fucking hate it 😩 lol anyway acnakjcna idk how I feel about this part but I hope it would live up to y’alls expectations ily all!!!! 😘😘😘

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Get the cheque and then head out.

Not only did you take a detour and went back to take care of a sick Bucky, but you also found yourself in the presence of his father. Who, by the way, didn’t seem pleased to see you in his son’s place.

There were a lot of hearsays about him, George Barnes, most of which were negative and focused on him being arrogant and greedy. You never paid attention to those, not even when you and Bucky had something going on. You didn’t ask because he never brought it up, you figured that family talk was off-limits.

“Are you his secretary?” George asked as his eyes scanned you from head to toe, stopping at the hem of your skirt which was bunched up above your knees from the way you sat earlier.

You shook your head and opened your mouth to explain the situation, however, George did not pay attention and cut you off immediately.

“James must be paying a lot of money for the double job.” he said suggestively, inviting himself inside, leaving you with your mouth slack from receiving such disrespect from a man of his caliber.

He did remind you of someone who had the same air of arrogance though.

“You knock him out or what?” George quipped with a chuckle, turning to you.

Usually, you’d stand up for yourself but right now you were left speechless. Was this what Bucky had to deal with growing up? More questions about his childhood began to cloud your mind, preventing you from even formulating something to say.

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, Bucky stepped out of the bedroom and looked just as surprised to see his father. He was quick to throw a worried glance at you, as if he was checking whether you were alright. You merely nodded at him and offered a tight-lipped smile in return.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky coldly asked, voice hoarse from his cough.

George snickered, “You have been ignoring my messages and calls, why did you think I decided to come visit you?” he asked before turning to you.

“She must have worn you out for you not to respond to any of those.” he said.

Bucky frowned, “What did you say?” he asked.

Suddenly, you wanted for the ground to swallow you right then and there. Should you quietly leave? Maybe grab the box of strawberry tarts and take it with you, head to the door and leave for Bucky and his father to resolve their issues?

No? Bummer.

“James, I don’t appreciate you bringing home someone like her. Moreover, disregarding your work for a rendezvous in the middle of an important project. Stop being irresponsible.” George called out.

You flinched at the volume of his voice and although very offended at what he thought of you, you worried more for Bucky given the state of his health. He wasn’t in the best shape and for his own father to tell him shitty things when he has been working his ass off, it was hard to take.

“I hate to interrupt but he was sick, really sick.” you explained.

George did not even spare you a glance and instead, pointed a finger at you, “Do not interrupt when my son and I are speaking.”

“Do not talk to her like that.” Bucky defended.

He spoke softly but the look in his eyes was dark, you knew that particular darkness in his eyes. You’d been the receiving end of it, you knew how angry Bucky was. His jaw ticked and his nostrils flared as he scowled at his father, he wouldn’t be able to hold back for long.

George laughed and then looked at you with an incredulous look on his face, “Do you see this? You got my son pussy-whipped, I am actually impressed.”

And that was when you snapped, even before Bucky did.

“You should be impressed, Mister Barnes. I am not your son’s secretary nor his whore, I know? Shocking, right? I am the Marketing Head who is handling the project with Wilson Enterprises.” you introduced yourself and extended an arm for a handshake.

George’s face was priceless and if only you could bring out your phone and snap a photo of this moment, you would and have it printed out. You were most definitely going to be framing it and hanging it in your bedroom.

He looked down at your hand with a frown and ignored it, snapping his head towards Bucky. “You let this woman take over something as big as that?” he asked in disbelief.

This man was something else, you literally had no words for him.

“She is fully capable of handling this partnership, maybe even more than me. Besides, you no longer own this company. You don’t have a say in my decisions.” Bucky angrily said.

“I built this company from the ground up, James. I have every right to decide for it as much as you do.” George exclaimed.

Bucky chuckled, “Then why did you force me to take over then? You know I didn’t want to have anything to do with your goddamn company. Oh, right. Because mom left you to be with someone more successful and you could not fathom that your company then was failing so you decided to pass the burden to me like the shitty father that you are!”

Bucky was forced to run the company? You never knew about this, not even from gossip or from the articles you found on the internet. All this information was very new to you and honestly, it was making you understand Bucky and his attitude even more.

“Your mother left because you were an irresponsible brat. Had I not given your life some direction, you wouldn’t be where you are now and maybe, your mother would have stayed with us!” George spat.

“Mom left because of you! I am so tired of you blaming me for what happened to this fucking family. She left because you’re a fucking asshole, dad. You treated her like a piece of shit that’s why she left you, that’s why she left me to fend for myself.” Bucky was fuming.

“And I’m not letting you treat her the same way.” he immediately added, motioning over to you.

Your eyes widened at your sudden involvement in the conversation. This was totally unexpected, however, you could not help but feel relieved that Bucky stood up for himself. Judging by the expression on George’s face, this seemed to be the first time that Bucky did that.

“She’s amazing.” Bucky said, but this time, his eyes were trained on yours. “She was always there whenever something happened, whenever I failed at my responsibilities. I’d say the company owes her a lot, I owe her a lot...I wasn’t the best boss to her and yet she keeps on going the extra mile. So no, I won’t tolerate you disrespecting her and calling her names because she does not deserve that.”

You were left speechless and so was George. For a moment, you thought that he might actually hurt his son but he simply huffed out and shook his head in disappointment, and maybe embarrassment as well. He walked over to the door but made sure to give you another meaningful look before pulling it open.

“I expect this event to be a huge success. I can’t afford for the company to get a bad reputation.” he warned you.

You offered him a sarcastic smile, “Don’t worry too much, Mister Barnes. You already have enough grey hair as it is, we wouldn’t want you to show up at the event with a full head of white hair.” you jested.

George looked at his son with an offended expression but only received a shrug and a smirk from Bucky. You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing at his face when he turned to you once more. Extending an arm, you gestured for him to walk out the door and when he did, you called for his attention.

“Mister Barnes, I’d like to let you know that your son is doing a great job running the company. Sure, he might have shortcomings too but he’s doing his best. I think he deserves some recognition. And trust too.” you said, gazing over at Bucky meaningfully.

“It’s going to be a slow process, but maybe you should try learning to trust him.”

And maybe I should too, you thought to yourself.

It was quiet in Bucky’s place after his father left, none of you spoke about what just happened. You went to clean up the mess in his kitchen despite his protests, made sure he had something to eat the following day and then went to the bedroom to get your things.

“Don’t forget to take your meds. I really need you to join me at the food tasting this Friday, so get lots of rest.” you told Bucky as he walked you to the front door.

“Thank you.” he said.

“Thank you, too.” you responded quickly. “I didn’t know your father was a...uhh…” you scratched your forehead, trying to find the right word that wouldn’t offend Bucky. George was, after all, still his father.

He laughed, “An asshole? A douchebag?” he said. “You probably realized why I ended up being like this.” he added, whispering his latter statement as if he didn’t want you to hear it.

You sighed, “You’re nothing like your father, Bucky.” you reassured him, “And it’s never too late to change some things about yourself.”

Bucky nodded, “I’m trying.”

You smiled, “I know. You have a lot of explaining to do though, one of which was your coffee stunt.” you reminded him.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “You don’t have to let me explain if you’re still not yet ready.”

“Look, I’m already softening up so you might want to take advantage of that before I change my mind.” you explained, crossing your arms over your chest.

Bucky laughed again, “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

It wasn’t only about explaining his side that Bucky was referring to. You figured out he also meant about your resignation and Sam’s offer, which by the way, you haven’t revisited for quite a while. You wondered whether Bucky was aware of the position that Sam wanted you to fill in.

“We’ll talk. But for now, just rest. Let me know how you feel in the morning.” you said.

“I will, thanks again.”

“Goodnight, Bucky.” you greeted, automatically holding his arm before you even realized it.

Blushing, you quickly took your hand back and adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. Bucky was biting his bottom lip, failing to hide the grin that tugged at his lips. You snorted and bid goodbye, turning around with a smile on your face.

“I have a good feeling about this event.” Sam said, hands inside the pockets of his pants as he walked around the venue.

The meeting with the stylist ended a few minutes ago, with all the details finally ironed out. Another task crossed out on your list of responsibilities. Thankfully, everything seemed to be on track with little to no troubles.

You sighed nervously, “God, I hope so. If this event fails, I won't be able to forgive myself.”

Sam chortled, “It won’t. It’ll be a huge success, I’m sure of it.” he said and walked around a bit more before stopping.

“Would it be rude for me to ask you for an update about my offer?” he asked, lifting his brow at you.

You groaned, “I am torn.” you admitted. “As much as your offer is mind-blowing, I mean? The benefits? I thought I was looking at a contract for a damn sugar baby.” you joked.

Sam shrugged, “If you wanna be my sugar baby, go right ahead.” he said with nonchalance.

You deadpanned, “I was kidding, Sam.”

“I wasn’t.” he said before bursting into a fit of laughter, “That was a joke but if you want to make it real, by all means, count me in.” he chuckled.

“Very tempting.” you chided before turning serious once more, “It’s just that I don’t want to quickly jump in at the first opportunity offered to me, you know?”

Sam beamed at you, nodding his head in understanding. “You’re very smart. And I do understand what you mean so I’m extending your deadline. Get back to me after the event with your decision, I’ll make sure to keep the position vacant until then.”

“And you’re a good friend, Sam. A good mentor too, I appreciate all your help. I really do.” you said.

Despite being busy at work and the recent development in your relationship with Bucky, you still made an effort to search for other job opportunities. You didn’t want to limit yourself to Sam’s offer, no matter how amazing the salary and benefits are. Honestly, you felt like you weren’t ready to take on a position like that. Maybe it was your self-doubt speaking, but you weren’t entirely confident about it yet.

You’d been sending out your resume to a few companies you found on LinkedIn, hoping to hear from at least one of those.

You also had to admit that you thought about resigning, whether it was still the best option. However, you came to a realization that you were better off to a different company. A lot of things have already happened that tainted your experiences over at Barnes Group of Companies.

You wanted a fresh start.

On the way to work, you decided to drop by the bakery again to buy some pastries for Mark and Beverly to try. The owner remembered you and was quick to recommend a few more of her delicacies aside from the strawberry tarts. She even offered to give you a cup of coffee for free.

You were standing by the counter when your phone buzzed, with Beverly’s name showing up on the screen. You grunted because whenever she called, it meant that something was wrong.

“What is it this time?” you monotonously answered.

“Oh thank god, I thought you decided to go AWOL.” she heaved out a deep sigh of relief.

You frowned, “Why on earth did you even think of that?”

“I haven’t seen you around the office, I mean, I know you’re busy. But usually you’d already be walking around the floor at this time and you aren’t here yet. And knowing that you resigned, I can’t help but panic when I don’t see you!” she whined.

No matter how shallow and annoying Beverly’s reasoning was, you found it sweet. She can be quite clingy though, but you were surely going to miss it when you leave.

“I’m buying something for you and Mark so chill out, bestie.” you said.

Beverly audibly gasped, “You called me ‘bestie’!”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s the first and last time I’m saying that. And please, I haven’t even found a new job yet so you can stop worrying about it for now.” you reassured before bidding goodbye.

Taking the box of pastries and coffee from the owner, you thanked her and turned around to leave, only to almost bump into a familiar face. Thank goodness that the coffee didn’t spill because you’re close to running late.

“Hi.” the man greeted with an amused smile. “I see you came back, for the strawberry tarts, I assume?” he asked.

“Strawberry tart guy! Right, yes. I knew you were familiar. And unfortunately, I didn’t get a taste of them last time so I brought a few more just now.” you explained.

Unlike the first time you met him, he wasn’t dressed casually in a shirt and jacket combo. He looked very decent today, sporting a crisp, light blue button down dress shirt tucked in his black work pants.

The guy laughed, “I hope you get to taste them now.” he said. “And I know this might make you think that eavesdropping is my hobby, but I heard that you were looking for a job?” he curiously asked.

“I definitely think that you eavesdrop for fun.” you retorted. “But yes, I am.”

“What experience do you have? I think there’s an opening where I work at, just thought you might be interested in case it was right up your alley.” he explained.

Was he being too kind for a stranger? You sort of doubted whether to give some information about yourself, but then again, he actually looked genuinely kind. He doesn’t give off a weird, creepy vibe too and the owner of the bakery seemed to be fond of him.

“I do marketing.” you simply stated, growing a little impatient because the clock was ticking and you didn’t want to be late for work.

The guy’s face brightened up, “Oh, that’s great! I heard that HR is looking for a marketing manager, do you want to apply? I work for a hotel company, nothing too big though.” he said.

You shrugged, “Sure, why not? I can check it out although I don’t have my resume with me right now. And I’m actually running late for work.” you said apologetically.

Strawberry tart guy apologized, “Oh god, I’m sorry. I’ll give you the e-mail of our HR so you can send it directly to them.” he said.

The both of you struggled about how to go on about it, given that you were halfway out of the bakery holding a box in one hand and a coffee in another. The guy was quick to grab a napkin from one of the tables, borrowing a pen from the owner before jotting down the e-mail and stuffing it inside your bag.

You laughed, “Thank you and I’m so sorry to be in such a rush.” you said.

“Please don’t apologize. It’s my fault. I didn’t get your name, by the way.” he awkwardly asked, “So I can give our HR a heads up about your application.” he explained.

You told him your name and asked for his, hoping that you’d remember it at the end of the day with how swamped your brain was from all the event preparations. Strawberry tart guy flashed a charming smile as he introduced himself.

“I am Steve Rogers.”

#bbb writes #the match #bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #fem!reader #sebastian stan

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roscgcld · 3 years

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RYOMEN SUKUNA || my little flower

anime: jujutsu kaisen

characters: ryomen sukuna

pronouns: she/her

notes: historical!sukuna x reader, slightly sexual (no smexy time involved lol - maybe another day ;)), quite fluffy towards the end

also - I’ve been reading so many sukuna hcs and imagines of him when he’s in his prime or during the historical era - so like excuse me as I politely simp for the man that is ryomen sukuna >< thank you

references: https://www.japanese-wiki-corpus.org/literature/Ryomen-sukuna.html

Sukuna leans back into the futon with a tired sigh, two of his arms folded behind his head while the other two held you against him securely. His ruby red eyes glanced away from the ceiling to look down at the woman curled up in his embrace, sleeping peacefully against him whilst her own soft arms were wrapped around his muscular torso. He admired your peaceful features at first, but soon his eyes started to travel down your delicate neck and cleavage, your soft skin marked by dark splotches where he had marked you up for the world to see.

Just the sight of the hickeys and bite marks caused Sukuna to smirk once more, the feeling of pride traveling through him at the sight of the hickeys, both new and old, marring your skin. It was a sight he would never get bored of seeing, since it was a constant reminder to you that you were his and no one else’s.

Many would question just how did this happen - how did a simple human manage to ‘tame’ the infamous Sukuna - the King of Curses, who spreads chaos and bloodshed in his wake? How did you, a mere human woman who looked far too kind hearted and warm, ended up with such a fearsome man?

Well, how this came to be was actually a cute story.

You grew up in a small village in Hida province, where many cities treated Sukuna as their patron deity. He was what people would call quite a cold ruler - one who would not hesitate to bring terror and bloodshed down on a town that had angered him. But at the same time, he was quite the generous man as well. He protects the people of the Hida and Mino Provinces, and many towns had florish and grow under his careful guidance.

Your town was one of the may towns that worshipped the Cursed Spirit, preparing offerings on special celebrations and always paying your respects whenever you go up to the ichinomiya on the weekends with your parents. It was because of one of these special celebrations that drew Sukusa to you.

It was one of the many days where offerings were given to him by townspeople, in hopes that they will still continue to get some form of protection from the unknown. He was their patron deity, after all. Even though many times he does all the things he does for his own benefit, it was nice to know that there are some who are gullible enough to think he does it for them. But he it’s one to complain - many of the offerings are things he does not mind indulging in. The best crops from the harvest, women for his ever growing harem, beautifully crafted weapons and clothes are the few he can keep in mind

Many times, he does not care to go through the offerings himself - Uraume goes through all of them and then gives him a general overview of everything. However, as he was walking past one of the neat piles of offerings, a particular garment box caught his eye; causing him to pause before he unwraps it curiously.

Sitting inside the carefully wrapped package was a beautiful dark blue kinomo made of the finest silk, the fabric so smooth that it almost felt like water slipping through his fingers. Packed along with the kinomo was a beautifully crafted haori, a simple yet beautiful crane woven into the haori in white, the details done so carefully that when worn, the crane moves with the shifting of the fabric. The packet also came with a matching hakama made from the luxurious fabric, and a beautiful kaku obi made from navy blue, white and silver carefully weaved together into in a beautiful talent.

It was because of the level of craftsman ship that had Sukuna curious - who was the mastermind of something so beautiful?

He had went to the town where the garment was from and after some digging about, discovered about you. A daughter to a family of tailors, you were quite well known for your talents in embroidery and your mastery of the loom. Having gotten such talents, you crafted many beautiful pieces, and one of them was gifted to Sukuna himself recently.

When he first saw you, he was struck by your beauty; how you had such a warm smile no matter who you were referring to. How your movements were graceful yet swift, your needle and threat embroidering the most beautiful depections of animals and flowers without a single mistake. How your voice was so sweet and calming that he can physically feel the tension from his body starting to unwind ever so slightly. If he could, he’d love to listen to your voice forever - which was what he intended to do.

The first time you two met was actually in the dead of the night; you had stayed up later then usual, carefully embroidering a water lily onto a long fabric for a personal tapestry you wanted to hang in your room. A candle was burning by your work table, casting the engawa of your home in a soft but comforting glow; enough for you to do your work without straining too much. You were so fucsed on your work that you didn’t notice how the flames of your candle started to flicker in the glass holder; even though there was the air was still. Your eyes didn’t trail up from your tapestry even as a large figure quietly entered the hallway you were in; only pausing when you felt a huge presence looming over you.

Your bright eyes flickered upwards and met with four pairs of ruby red ones staring right back at you; all four of them shining in amusement. “You are quite oblivious, little one.” Sukuna hummed out with a soft grin, to which you just gave him a confused look as you tilted your head ever so slightly. “How did you get into my house?” You asked quietly, not even acknowledging how the man before you looked very different from what you’re used to; from the four muscular arms sprouting out from underneath the dark blue haori, the very same one that you had made for him. to the extra pair of eyes he sported on his face. Or how the top of his head was clearly brushing against the simple weed roofing of your family home.

“Is that really the first thing you’re going to ask, little one?”

From that day onwards, things definitely went a lot smoother then Sukuna could have imagined. At first the lack of reaction from you confused him, but he found it quite amusing nonetheless. Even after finding out that he was the same deity that you had heard stories of since you were in diapers, you acted no differently around him. You still talked and laughed with him like he was any other human. which for some reason made his heart feel warm and fuzzy. It makes him want to gather you up in his arms, protecting you from the horrors of the world.

The two of you will continue to meet up in the night like secret lovers; many nights he’d just lean against one of the pillars of your family home, with you perched in his lap as you work on different projects every night; talking about things that happen that day, or the funny stories that the townsfolk would share with you whenever they drop by to mend and purchase clothes, or when they dropped off freshly dyed fabrics. During a few of these nights Sukuna had suggested if you can help him mend a few of his kimonos, which you agreed to without hesitation. Some days you’d ever create new kimonos for him as well, which he would wear quite proudly.

Soon these innocent nights of talking and laughter, him watching you do your work under the moonlight, to having you gasping and crying out for him as he took you over and over again in his grand bedroom; watching quite gleefully as he corrupted your innocence, ruining you for any other man. Ever since the first night you two shared in his bed, he knew that there was no turning back - there was no one else for him but you.

And there was no way he was going to let some puny human even try to get in between the both of you.

With that he whisked you away from the somewhat mundane and boring life in your town, making you his entire world. He showered you with the finest gifts and opened the more human side of him to you; one that he thought he had lost the moment he had decided to go down the path he did. But you pulled these emotions out from him with ease, making him realise that he can chase all the power he want till the end of time and that will never satisfy him completely.

All he needed was you, and everything feels right in the world.

“I’ve lost you again, haven’t I?”

Sukuna’s eyes snapped towards the direction of your sleepy voice, watching how you gave him the most beautiful yet sleepy smile as you carefully shifted your body so it was pressed against his. He marveled how your naked bodies clicked together seamlessly, even with the clear size difference between the two of you. “You will always have my attention, flower.”

The sound of the simple nickname cause a small smile tug against the corner of your lips, remembering how that nickname came about. You have always love studying flowers, since you enjoyed embroidering different sorts of flora and fauna onto different tapestries that now adorned the walls of the home you two share. You had once told him about your love of flowers, and because of that, you had came home one day to the courtyard in your shared home turned into your private garden; with flowers from all across the country planted at every nook and cranny.

When you had asked Sukuna about it, he just shrugs and gave you an indulge smile - as if asking were you really shocked by his gift to you. When he realised just how deep your love for nature was, he had started to call you ‘his flower’, and the name has stuck since then. “What a sweet talker.”

A chuckle rumbled deep within his chest as one of his hands found purchase along your back, starting to massage what he was sure were your sore muscles; watching in satisfaction as you melted more into his chest. “Only for you.” He admitted quietly, to which you just gave him a loving smile as you rest your cheek against his chest once more; a soft finger started to trace along the tattoos on his skin. This action caused him to relax further into the futon, sighing softly in content. “Sukuna? Can we take a bath?”

“I’m lazy.” Sukuna stated with a soft groan as he glanced down at you once more, only to be met by the soft pout that you just know gets him to give in. This caused him to scowl as he cupped your face in one of his hands, gently squishing your cheeks between his fingers as he pushes himself up into a seated position. “You little minx.” He growls playfully whilst you just gave him a teasing smile, straddling his lap with your legs on either side of his whilst one of your hands wrapped around his wrist; causing him to loosen his grip on you whilst letting out a loud sigh. “How annoying.”

His arms suddenly wrapped around you before he got up from the comfort of the warm futon, causing you to giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Let’s go, flower.” He sighs dramatically before he walked you both to the bathroom, causing you to perk up before you lean over to press a loving kiss against his cheek; ignoring his soft eyeroll at your act of affection. As if he didn’t enjoy it whenever you do so. “I love you.”

“Of course you do.” He teases before he started to walk you two towards the bathroom, one of his hands skimming down to the small of your pack where a beautiful black tattoo rested against your soft skin; a tattoo that looks similar to the black lines that adorned his own skin. “You’re mine, after all.” He stated simply, causing you to roll your eyes at him playfully as he carefully sat you down on the wooden steps leading to the opening of the ofuro; watching as Sukuna started to prepare the bath for the both of you. “Wouldn’t it kill for you to just be a little nicer to me?”

Your teasing tone clearly didn’t win any points with him, who narrowed his eyes at you and before you know it you were suddenly pinned down against the wooden steps. A soft giggle left your lips at the narrowed eyes that stared back at you, causing Sukuna to scowl softly at your reaction. “Now you’re just asking for it, flower.” He growled before diving down to meet your lips in a passionate kiss; not being able to mask his smile at the sound of your soft laughter just as you wrapped your arms around him once more.

"My little flower..”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagine #ryomen sukuna imagines #sukuna x reader

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satanwithboobs · 3 years

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self-care | GN!MC x OM brothers

tw: mentions of reckless behavior, the brothers are demons so they essentially roofie MC but.. for their own good...? it’s not okay and I’m pretty sure Beel is the only one who feels like they did something wrong.

a/n: okay so this is really long (nearly 2,400 words), and it just sort of happened. mainly inspired by my history of reckless behavior when it comes to my health and my resolve not to let the stress of my upcoming week make me resort to bad habits. and before anyone wonders... the anecdote in the story? yeah that really happened. I gave myself stomach ulcers because I kept taking ibuprofen (it was for a horrible tooth ache) and I didn’t eat anything but saltines for days while I finished up a final project. word to the wise: don’t be like me. I’m dumb.

self care is important, everyone! I know a lot of people are starting school again, so please!!! take!! care!! of!!! yourselves!!

—

Lucifer was the first to notice something was up with MC, though initially he paid it no heed.

Naturally, he had always prided himself (of course) on his superior attention to detail, and

He had noticed them drinking cups of coffee and energy drinks a whole lot more often than usual, but given that finals were coming up, he figured they were simply trying to keep more awake for the sake of their studies.

None of this was healthy, of course, but he’d wait to scold them if it truly became worth his while to do so.

And so, he went on with his business, offering them advice as he had on many occasions before. He had even been kind enough to tutor them without the aid of his whip or his fire, something he would never do with any of his brothers. At one point he even let a snide comment under their breath go with just a stern warning.

He truly had gone soft, but he supposed it was best if he didn’t traumatize the human he and his brothers had formed such a strong bond with just for the sake of grades.

And while he had been the first to notice their new habits - all of his brothers had eventually caught on to what was going on.

It was the Saturday before finals that they all finally acknowledged that something needed to be done.

—

“They’re looking truly frightening!” Asmo exclaimed, and while typically his statements were brushed off by the rest as pure hyperbole, they all had to agree with this one. “They’ll get wrinkles in no time if they keep this up...”

“Yeah, somethin’ needs to be done,” Mammon commented, earning nods from his brothers — a truly rare occurrence in the House of Lamentation.

“Maybe I can plan a spa day!” Asmo interjected, an excited expression on his face.

“I don’t think havin’ ya feel ‘em up all day would help anythin,” Mammon grumbled, earning a scowl from the fifth-born in return.

“Perhaps...” Satan started.

“No,” Lucifer retorted, earning a look from the wrathful fourth-born.

He simply continued as if daggers weren’t being glared in his direction, “I don’t care how many times you try and paint it as a benefit for us all, you will not get a cat.”

Satan muttered something that sounded a lot like, “dammit,” under his breath, along with a couple of choice words that Lucifer ignored for the sake of pushing the conversation forward.

“I know! There’s this new TSL ultra-special extended-cut series box set that we can marathon! It has never-before-heard director commentary, along with a limited edition SIGNED replica of the—”

“That’s just gonna wind ‘em up even more!” The second-born responded, getting fed up with this already.

In truth, he was mainly irritated at himself for failing to notice that MC had gotten so bad. He was their first guy, he should’ve known!

“For once, I have to agree with Mammon,” the Avatar of Pride earned six dumbfounded looks with that, with Belphegor actually opening his eyes and Beelzebub nearly choking on the bite of food in his mouth.

“MC needs sleep, not distractions,” he went on without missing a beat, “I very much doubt they’ve had more than four hours of sleep in the last five days, so that must be our first priority.”

“How do you suggest we do that? It isn’t like MC will concede easy, we all know how stubborn they are,” Satan asked.

“Simple,” Lucifer proclaimed, as his gaze fell upon the youngest brother, who had already fallen into a deep slumber once again. “We use force.”

Upon feeling the eyes of all his brothers fall on him, Belphegor stirred, a single violet eye opening. He grumbled, not bothering to sit up properly as he regarded the eldest with a tired expression.

“What?”

—

Lucifer had explained the very simple two-step ‘plan’ to Belphegor (step no. 1, corner the human so they can’t slip away - step no. 2, Belphie makes them sleep), and they were about to begin discussing when to put their plan into motion when footsteps echoed outside the common room.

MC walked in, looking a bit more than a little worse for wear (while their clothes and hair looked fine given the circumstances, the bags under their eyes had become so prominent that they were basically their own entity at this point).

“Oh, that’s where you guys were. I was wondering why the place was so quiet,” they tried to joke, but it came out in such a monotone way that it just sounded more like a simple statement.

Their brow furrowed a bit when they got no response from the seven demons, but they shrugged it off and put their bag down on the table, beginning to take out the many books they were going to need. They’d been barricaded in their room for quite some time, but they had needed a change of scenery. Not to mention, their bed had been way too tempting...

The silence in the room was deafening - even in their bleary state they could tell something was off - so eventually they turned around to see six pairs of eyes scrutinizing their every move (Belphegor was asleep, which didn’t surprise them.

“You guys are starting to freak me out,” they stifled a yawn and moved to grab their coffee, in desperate need of another pick-me-up.

If they had any hope of grasping the concepts in Devildom Law, they’d need it—

They were confused when they didn’t find it where they had left it - on the table, two seconds earlier - but not so when they noticed that Lucifer had suddenly appeared right next to them, their coffee in hand.

“Uhh, Luci? Kinda need that,” they let out a laugh and outstretched their hand, silently asking for it back.

“No, you’re cut off,” he declared, earning a sigh from MC. It wasn’t like they had been caught dancing on the tables after a few too many shots of Demonus. It was just coffee.

“You guys are worried, aren’t you? Well, don’t be. It’s not like I haven’t done this sort of thing dozens of times before, I’ll be fine,” they tried to reassure, though in truth they had never been forced to study nearly as hard as they had for the classes at RAD.

“No, what yer gonna do is let us take care of ya’. Don’t ya trust us?” Mammon said gruffly, earning a look from the human.

“Yeah... you’re really fragile, being a human, and..” Beelzebub started, before trailing off with a frown, remembering they didn’t particularly like being told that. Even if it was objectively true.

“Seriously? I’m being lectured by a bunch of demons on healthy lifestyle choices?” They said, exasperated. “I already said, I’ve done so much worse before. Not sure if I ever mentioned it, but this one time I was up for three nights straight in college.. Gave myself stomach ulcers during finals week because all I had to eat was a sleeve of saltines and some ibuprofen—” they laughed a bit before realizing - upon seeing everyone’s concern only increase - maybe that particular story wasn’t the best one to tell right at that very moment.

MC turned back to Lucifer, shooting him a pleading look. “I need to do well on these finals, Lucifer. I’m not going to make you guys look bad by completely bombing them all.”

The look in his eyes softened for a moment, before he sent someone behind them a terse nod.

Of course, they figured out just a little too late that this was far more than simply a discussion about their unhealthy sleeping habits.

They didn’t even need to look behind them to feel the overwhelming presence of the youngest brother weighing down on them.

While Belphie had done this sort of thing to them once or twice on accident while taking a nap nearby, it had never felt this.. overpowering.

They shot Lucifer a look, and he responded with a somewhat sympathetic look of his own.

“You can’t be serious about...” they trailed off, trying and failing to stifle a yawn. “About.. this....”

MC soon fell into the waiting arms of the eldest, out like a light.

Lucifer let out a soft chuckle as he scooped them up bridal-style, giving a quick nod to Beelzebub who had picked up his twin the same way.

It was a side-effect of the youngest’s ability; he could make someone of his choosing fall into a deep sleep if he wanted, but he’d always do the same.

It was kind of annoying, but it wasn’t like he didn’t spend most of the time sleeping anyway. At least he had full control over how long the other person slept and would always wake at the same time they did.

Now that he thought about it, he’d have to find an excuse to do this again sometime. Naps were way less fun when the person you’re napping with insists on getting up before you wanted them to.

“Pretty sure that’s a record for Belphie,” Satan mused, “I’ve never seen someone pass out like that in less than 10 seconds.”

—

Beelzebub happily chomped down on the many food items he had been supplied with as he waited for his twin and MC to awaken.

The rest of his brothers would have hated having to wait so long, but as long as he had food and his two favorite people in front of him....

Beel looked up from his snack when he heard the pair stir.

An annoyed expression settled on MC’s face as they opened their eyes, completely erasing the peaceful look they held moments before.

Beel frowned, knowing they had a reason to be annoyed, but also knowing that this was all for their own good.

Their face softened ever-so-slightly when they noticed Beelzebub, the one brother they could never stay mad at.

They were about to sit up when they realized there was an arm loosely caged around their waist. Behind them, they could feel the soft and slow breathing of the youngest demon brother, as if he wasn’t already awake.

They attempted to move away, but the loose grip quickly tightened, pushing them flush against Belphegor’s chest.

A satisfied hum escaped their ‘captor’ when MC gave up and sighed.

“You’re welcome,” Belphegor said tiredly, nuzzling his face in their neck, much to their chagrin.

“I can’t believe you guys...” they finally said, their voice still rough from sleep. “How long?”

Beelzebub frowned again, knowing they wouldn’t like the answer. “18 hours,” he finally said, bracing for the response.

“Wait, 18 hours?!” MC rolled their eyes when the demon behind them groaned at the exclamation. “I’m going to miss—”

“I arranged for your deadlines to be extended, don’t worry,” MC stiffened when they heard the eldest’s voice, knowing their inevitable lecture was likely to come sooner rather than later.

They moved to sit up again, though this time their living restraint let it happen, turning over to hopefully get just 5 more minutes of sleep...

The human winced upon seeing the stern gaze Lucifer was giving them, though his eyes were notably softer than usual.

“While I appreciate the unwavering dedication to your studies,” he started, moving to sit on the edge of the bed near the two former sleeping beauties, “you do need to take care of yourself.”

“Achievement means nothing if you end up comatose before you reach the finish line.”

MC looked down, guilt settling on their face. Fair point from the Avatar of Pride.

“I—” they tried to start, but a gloved finger pressed against their lips before they could get anywhere.

“No arguments.”

MC sighed, tossing a defeated look to the eldest. All they got in response was a chuckle and his signature smug look.

Silence permeated the room for a moment before Lucifer spoke up again.

“You will report to my study promptly after dinner every night without exception until you are finished with everything,” he said, the edge in his voice coming back in full force. “Understand?”

MC nodded in response. Figures he’d implement something like this.

“Good. I will help you study a portion of the time, while Satan will help with the rest.”

The human resisted the urge to groan at this. Great, two drill sergeants for the price of one. Literally.

They felt their cheeks flare with heat when they felt Lucifer’s gloved hand cup their cheek as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on their forehead.

“Your well-being is important to all of us,” he said, pulling back. “Never forget that.”

“Lucifer is—” Beel interjected mid-bite before he quickly swallowed. “—right.”

“Won’t hear me arguin’ on that!” Mammon piped up as he filed into the room with the four brothers who weren’t already in there to begin with.

“Lucifer said I could plan a spa day when you finish up! Just you and me... sounds heavenly, doesn’t it?” Asmodeus announced, tossing a wink toward MC.

“Oi! If you think I’m gonna let that happen, you got another thing comin’, Asmo!” Mammon growled, earning an eye roll from the Avatar of Lust.

“You have nothing to worry about, as long as I’m your tutor,” Satan interjected before a true fight could break out.

“You better finish up quickly, because there’s this new game is coming out—!” Leviathan practically vibrated with excitement before letting out a terrified sound.

“Don’t put too much stress on them,” Lucifer’s aura flared.

“Oh, uh...” Levi corrected, looking a bit like a wounded puppy. “T-take all the time you n-need...”

MC couldn’t help but crack a smile at the brothers’ antics, their previous annoyance at the unexpected 18-hour nap all but gone (though they would have to speak to Lucifer about boundaries.. while they agreed that their health was important, essentially supernaturally drugging someone still wasn’t okay).

“You guys are too much,” they said, their cheeks flaring. “Just how did I end up stuck with all of you?”

Silence fell upon the room for a very brief moment at the question, before chaos (naturally) resumed its regularly scheduled programming.

#obey me shall we date #obey me x mc #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphegor x reader #oh my god so many tags

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xxwritemeastoryxx · 3 years

Text

Chemical Reaction Chapter 1

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: No set parings in this one yet

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Mentions of violence but that's canon.

Author’s Note: DO YOU KNOW HOW NERVOUS I AM FOR THIS?!? Even setting this up, I have anxiety building up. I'm ready for my debut into the Marvel fics. I do hope that if you guys enjoy this that you will leave some feedback. Anything helps! I absolutely love Tony and I hope this does him justice.

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

Y/N L/N knew that when she was recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D. that there would be moments where things would become chaotic. She knew that there would be moments where she would have to drop whatever it was she was working on to work on something that was being deemed top priority. Her multiple degrees from MIT had proved her to be an asset. Especially when they came across foreign objects that needed to be identified.

Over the last several years while Earth found out just how big the universe was, Y/N was behind the scenes hoping to help by making weapons to help protect the earth with what she was creating. Her projects were always kept under lock and key with the help of Director Nick Fury. He made sure her work was never interrupted and made sure she had everything she needed to create what he asked.

The sound of the lab door sliding open had caught her attention. Her eyes lifted only for a second to see Fury walking in before she looked back down at the computer screen in front of her. The program on the screen helping her to put the missing pieces she needed together.

“I’m expecting a box of my favorite cookies if you’re coming in here while I’m working.” She said, not taking her eyes off the coding. Every few moments she’d adjust the coding to adjust a few things or add coding where needed.

“Already delivered to your house.” Fury said as he walked further into the lab. “Even I know your bite is worse than your bark.”

That caused her to chuckle as her eyes flickering back and forth between him and the screen. Between Y/N and Fury, they had a softer relationship than most agents did with him. Maybe it was that her parents were friends with his family. But Y/N knew that when things meant business, the playful demeanor they had towards each other stopped.

“I’ve got an assignment for you.” He said as he came to a stop just in front of her desk.

“You mean besides this one?” She asked with a raised brow as her fingers typed along a keyboard. The new information she input caused the program to create a visual prototype of the weapon Fury had asked her for.

“For now this one is being put on hold.” Fury’s hands rested on the desk as he watched as Y/N looked up and at him. There was a slight frown on her face that caused Fury to chuckle. “Priorities change, Y/N/N. Including this one. What I need you to work on has been bumped up in priority.”

“This has to do with the mission the Avengers are on, isn’t it?” Y/N knew if she was right, that meant the Avengers had found an unknown source that needed to be identified. Usually, it was Y/N that got called in for those kinds of tasks.

“A Hydra base had a weapon on display, much like the scepter Loki had. But instead of an infinity stone at its center, it is something else. I need you and Stark to identify it.”

Y/N stilled at the name before she rolled her eyes. “We both know Stark and I don’t get along.”

“You two are the only ones that I want working on this.” He said as he stood up straight. “Between his brain and yours, it would save us a lot of time and expedite us destroying it.”

“You mean to study it before figuring out a way to utilize it?” Y/N knew better. She knew how Fury worked. His secret projects Y/N had been a part of from time to time. It was her design that was used for the prototype gun that had been created from pieces of the Destroyer when it came to Earth.

A knowing look formed on Fury’s face and it caused a smirk to pull at Y/N’s lips. He shook his head slightly. “It depends on if it can or cannot be utilized. I want to know why Hydra had it in the first place.”

“And that requires Stark’s help?” She asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“I get it.” He said as he tilted his head slightly. “You two have history. But I need the best minds I’ve got working on this.”

“What about Banner?” She asked, trying to get out of it one last time. “I don’t butt heads with Banner.” She was going to take whatever chances to avoid Tony Stark.

Fury eyed her before he turned to walk away from her. Y/N huffed out air as he had begun to do so. That was his answer to her question. He wasn’t going to let her out of this. Y/N should have known. For as many times as she tried to get out of work, Fury always got what he wanted.

“I want another batch!” She called out as she watched him leave. “Preferably the ones your mom makes.”

“Wheels up in an hour L/N.” Fury said as the sliding doors open. “I expect you to be on it.”

_____

“Alright, let's get this down to the lab.” Tony Stark said as he watched as S.H.I.E.L.D. agents began to pull the weapon off of the quinjet as he walked right behind them.

His hands slid against each other as he walked down the ramp, his eyes lingering on the case. The weapon was securely locked within a case to ensure that nothing would happen to it on its journey. He was eager to get started on figuring out what element was powering it. He had seen first hand the energy that came off of it in action.

“Perfect,” Natasha said as she exited out of the quinjet. “Fury just informed me that your new lab partner is already there and waiting for it's arrival."

Tony stopped in his tracks and turned towards Natasha. “Excuse me? There’s a what in my lab?”

“Fury sent someone over.” Natasha said as she came and stood in front of Tony. “Didn't give me a name though. He believes between the two of you, you’ll be able to identify the element faster and get it ready for transport."

Tony’s eyebrow raised. There was only one time he had opened his lab open to someone. And that had been to Bruce Banner. Why Fury decided it was a good time to send someone new in, Tony would never understand.

“J.A.R.V.I.S. who is currently in the lab?” He asked as he looked nowhere in particular. He wanted to know what he was about to walk into.

Miss Y/N L/N is, sir. The A.I said from overhead. She arrived minutes before you did.

“Shit,” Tony muttered under his breath as he looked back over at Natasha. The woman currently had a smirk pulling at her lips. “This is a joke right?”

Natasha laughed as she shrugged. "I'm only passing along the message."

Natasha knew enough about the relationship between Tony and Y/N. They butted heads when it came to almost anything and everything. She enjoyed watching the way Y/N had gotten under his skin any time they were in a room together. If there was one person that could put Tony in his place, it was Y/N.

Tony mumbled under his breath as he began making his way towards the elevator. He could probably avoid her for a few more hours. But knowing Y/N, she'd have things rearranged by the time he made it down there. It was better to face her now than later. It would definitely be worse later.

"Let Y/N know I'll call for backup when she needs it!" Natasha called out just as the elevator doors were closing.

_____

A frustrated sigh passed Y/N’s lips as she looked around the lab. With as many times as Y/N had been there, it had never ceased to amaze her that Tony would have things completely out of place. That included the perfectly neat station that she had left behind since she was becoming a frequent guest.

Pieces of junk had been carelessly tossed on the workstation, causing the items she had left on there to be scattered about. Stains from god knows what had been smeared on a majority of the files she left behind. No doubt things that Tony only looked at before tossing them aside.

They may have gotten on each other’s nerves, But Y/N had tried helping with some of the tech he was working on. While mostly suggestions, she knew that some of them would have upgraded things in a way that would help Tony. But with his stubbornness and ego, she wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t take any of it into account.

“J.A.R.V.I.S?” She called out as she walked around the workstation. “Does Tony actually need any of this or am I free to dispose of it?”

“Don’t answer that.” Tony said as he walked into the lab. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents close behind him, bringing in the encased weapon. The moment it was placed on a workstation, they left just as quickly as they came. “It is after all my lab and I can place things where I want, and when I want.” He had come to stand a few feet away from Y/N.

Y/N’s eyebrow raised as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes stayed on his before a small smirk slowly pulled at her lips. “J.A.R.V.I.S.?”

Mr. Stark is not intending to use the items he disposed of on your desk. I believe the term he used was ‘a junk table’.

Y/N watched as Tony’s mouth dropped at the A.I.’s words. He had never once had it work against him and yet, Y/N had managed to do so. “You turned him against me.”

“Not against,” She defended. “I just added a few things to ensure that I’d get the right information instead of you sabotaging me.”

“For the millionth time, that was not sabotage. I ensured everything was fair and square.” Tony rolled his eyes. “When did you even have time to hack into things?”

Y/N bit down on her tongue to keep her from speaking her mind. She should have known better. She should have known that he would simply deny it, just as he had plenty of times before. Instead, she let out a deep breath. “The last time I was here.” She said as she uncrossed her arms and began moving towards the case. “If I’m not mistaken, you were otherwise preoccupied with an overly bubbly blonde. Plus it wasn’t like I corrupted the system in any way. I just need someone on my side from time to time.”

Just as she reached the case and went to open it, Tony’s hand reached hers and stopped her from opening it. She turned to face him, her hand still on the latch. There was a slight glare on Tony’s face. Whether it was from her words or the fact she was attempting to open the case, she’d never know.

“You have no idea what this thing is and you want to just open it, like it’s nothing.” He said never taking his eyes off her.

“That’s what the point of this is.” She shook her head. “All the necessary protocols already came into play the moment the agents left.”

“I highly doubt that.” He said, taking a step back.

“Want to ask? Or should I?” Her fingers tapped on the latch as she watched him. It was a challenge.

The simple words enough to show how much they really trusted the other. While Tony had no idea about the rewrite that Y/N had included in his system, they hadn’t always agreed on things. If anything, they always disagreed with each other ninety-nine percent of the time. That one percent was a mix of giving in to what the other wanted or, Y/N getting her way.

It was as Tony let out a sigh that another smirk began to grow on Y/N’s lips. “J.A.R.V.I.S. are-”

Yeah, it was going to be a long week for the both of them.

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adorethedistance · 3 years

Text

British. Handsome. Charming. - Harry Styles x Reader Retail!AU

Sorta requested.

Warnings: Swearing, suggestive situations, I say titties like once

Words: 2108

Summary: When your coworker calls out and leaves you alone for a graveyard shift, you unintentionally enlist the help of a certain British, handsome, and charming retail employee from next door.

A/N: Hello this is my piece for @meetmeinfleetwood ‘s “to lovers” fic challenge! I put my ‘to lovers’ trope as Coworkers Harry and Y/n but I’m kind of riffing off of that trope because I wanted to do employees at different stores in the same section of the mall.

“So, Ziva just called out...” I hear my manager Kelly break the news from behind me. A groan threatens to escape my lungs but I fight the urge as best as possible to save face in front of customers. This is the third time Ziva’s called out of her graveyard shift in the past two weeks. Tonight, we were supposed to unpack the new shipment of holiday tees, gag gifts, and decorations. On a normal night, I can handle floor set by myself, but the added challenge of holiday items and displays is a different story.

“If I take another lunch right now, I can stay and help with the floor set.”

“No,” I wave her off, already dreading the exhaustion that is bound to set in, “Go home. You’ve already done your full eight, I can fly solo for tonight.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go before I regret letting you!” Kelly smiles with the tip of her tongue peaking through her teeth. She thanks me for freeing her and I finish straightening the last of the yellow champion hoodies on the rack in front of me.

“The boxes are on the left side in the backroom.” Backroom… got it.

Working at Tilly’s was supposed to be my high school job. At the end of Junior year, I opted for a minimum wage position to earn some extra spending money. If I’d known I would be attending the most local university in this godforsaken town, I would’ve picked a better gig; one that pays more. Or at least one that doesn’t schedule me from 7:30PM to 3AM.

The store closes at ten but the other four ish hours are for rearranging the entire floor layout. I have to redistribute the table full of graphic tees strategically around the store to make room for the holiday items we just received. With someone else’s help I could expect to be finished by 12:30. Maybe 1. Ziva calling out wasn’t part of the plan however, so I don’t expect to be finished early at all. If anything, I might have to rush to finish before my shift ends.

Not to mention I have a prose analysis final draft due tomorrow by midnight. Ziva better have some damn good excuses when she gets back.

Readjusting the waistband of my favorite jeans against my body, I head to the dressing rooms to double check for any stragglers. Upon finding myself alone, I go lock the front doors and flick off the glowing “open” sign in the front window. Hopefully time will fly faster than it has since I got here. I should’ve asked Kelly to grab me a coffee or a coke to get me through the rest of the shift. Maybe I should do some coke to get me through the rest of the shift.

Okay. What did Kelly say?

Backroom... Was that all? I hesitantly prop the storeroom’s door with the small, tan, rubber wedge before trying to take in the overwhelming mess of the backroom. The room has painfully bright overhead LED lights illuminating my path; the brightness is mirrored off the polished concrete floors under my feet. Considering there’s no holiday bullshit directly in front of me, Kelly must have given me more directions than just ‘backroom’. Graphic tees, sunglasses, jewelry. Nothing.

In my most goddamn genius idea yet, I search the top of the self of the storeroom to see the holiday boxes sealed and intact. Lovely. I can graze the surface of the top shelf with my fingertips just enough to get them dusty, but not enough to pull down any boxes.

Fuck.

This is what we have a ladder for, but we lent it out to the Zara next door. I don’t know what time they close but intuition tells me it's soon. Figuring I have nothing to lose, I dash out of the back room and unlock the front door to round the corner into Zara. Right as I exit the store, I run into someone hard enough to lose my balance, but not hard enough to take the other person down, thank god.

“Woahhh, you alright there?” British.

I look up to the face of the person I collided with. Handsome.

“I’m so sorry, I need to get to Zara.”

“I’m afraid you’re too late for that.” The handsome stranger’s statement catches me off guard and the fog of my rushed mindset disappears. Charming.

“What?”

“Jus’ locked up, I’m afraid.” I look at the completely dark storefront, and then back at the stranger. His gleaming green eyes catch mine and, cliché-ly, I’m rendered breathless by the exquisite nature of his face. Employee.

“You work at Zara,” I state dumbly.

“That, I do. And you work…?” Dropping my eyes to my worn work shoes, I’m suddenly overwhelmingly shy about working at Tilly’s.

“Tilly’s, next door. We lent you guys our step ladder and I need it back.”

“Shit,” the man smiles softly, nervously scratching the back of his neck. “I have the key to the store, but I don’t have the key to the supply closet where we kept it.”

“Dammit.” When I pull out my phone to check the time, I groan at the loss of another ten minutes. “By any chance do you guys conveniently have a step ladder that isn’t in an inaccessible closet?” The beautiful man laughs at my question and shakes his head no.

“We don’t, but I am pretty tall, maybe I could help?”

“You’re not that tall.”

“Taller than you.” My teasing is cut short by the man’s quip and I lead him into the store with conviction.

“Basically, I’m supposed to reconfigure the entire floor layout around the table for all the holiday merch, and the shipment came in but someone brilliantly placed them on the top shelf of the back room.”

“Which is why you need the step ladder from the closet that I can’t open. Gotcha.”

“If you could just get those three boxes from the top shelf right there that’d be wonderful.” After clocking the boxes in question, he nods wordlessly, and slips off his nice coat, no doubt a piece from the store next door. Underneath, he’s wearing a grey button up of which he begins rolling up the sleeves to. The action made me stop breathing for a second. His forearms are littered with tattoos of various drawings, one in particular catching my eye.

It’s a two dimensional mermaid figure with no seashell-bra, her skin transitioning into scales only after exposing her pubic bone. In the fluorescent lighting of the store, it’s clear as day that this is quite possibly the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. What’s he doing working at an outlet mall?

Zoning back in, I see he’s already hard at work. With a box no doubt full of gag gifts on his shoulder, he speaks again.

“I’m Harry by the way.”

I return the gesture and he smiles when he hears my name.

“Pretty.”

Returning his attention to the second box, he reaches up to slide the box closer to the edge of the shelf. When he does so, the hem of his grey shirt rides up to reveal a tiny strip of his toned abdomen, where two mirrored stems of fern leaves are tattooed in strikingly black ink.

I blink quickly a few times to redirect my focus, and divert my attention to the floor where he’s set the first box. This leads me to notice the brown suede chelsea boots he’s wearing. Black coat, grey shirt, brown shoes. Interesting.

“Oh shit!” I hear him mutter in a hushed voice. Looking up to the top of the shelf, I see that the last box has already been opened. Harry is balancing it between both limbs, his shoulder, and his head, but any movement would cause the contents of the box to fall out.

I rush forward to help. Moving the flaps of the box back over the top, I reach across Harry’s body to move them. Then, to keep them shut I place one palm on top of the seam, and use the other hand to support the bottom of the box. It isn’t until I stop moving that I notice the position I’ve put us in. I’m reaching up as far as I can to secure the top of the box which has placed the entire front side of my body to the back of his. I’m painfully aware of how my hips are pressed against his ass, and he must be painfully aware of the way my titties are pressed against his upper back.

“I’m gonna move backwards so it’s off the shelf. Just hold the top in place until I have it right side up again, yea?” I nod dumbly in response before realizing he can’t see me.

“Yeah, got it.” And with that he begins to back up little by little, moving at a pace slow enough for me to consistently adjust. The box is almost intact, but I’ve run out of space from standing behind Harry, and I have to maneuver myself around him whilst keeping the box shut. I cringe before doing what I have to do, and shuffling around the side of Harry’s body, my frontside pressed against him the entire time.

Finally, it’s over and we can set the box down on top of the other two. Harry stands up straight again and dusts off his hands. He adjusts his jeans, pulling them back up his hips, and I have to keep myself from staring once more.

“Anythin’ else I can do for you?”

“I don’t think so? That’s pretty much all the heavy lifting I have to do tonight.” He nods understandingly and… dare I say disappointed? I’m probably just projecting.

“Are you alone tonight?”

“Yeah, my coworker called out, but it’s fine. My boss Kelly got most of the work done earlier when she unpacked a lot of the boxes and folded the shirts into piles, so…”

“I could help.”

“You don’t need to do that. You’re already off and I’m sure you’re exhausted and-”

“I want to.” I guess I wasn’t projecting.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. That way you can go home earlier.” His smile is soft and lopsided until we connect eyes, in which case it brightens to reveal his pearly teeth. I fall shy under his gaze and avert my eyes to the concrete floor below us. My cheeks are radiating at about 1000° and I hope he doesn’t notice.

“Thank you,” I say, more flustered than I would have liked. Why am I getting so nervous? He’s just a retail employee at Zara.

A gorgeous employee at Zara.

“I don’t mind staying back... Spending more time with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Since I already know what you do for a living, what are your hobbies?” He ignores my question.

“I don’t have much time for hobbies. I’m only part-time while I’m in uni.”

“No way, what are you studying?”

I proceed to tell Harry all about my major and my career aspirations post-graduation and post-retail. I enjoy telling people about my dreams and yet, Harry’s the first person I’ve met in a long time that’s shown any interest in me and my dreams. The way he nods attentively despite having to fold misconstrued t-shirts and holiday sweaters, ignites a fire in my stomach that warms my heart. They way he asks hyper specific, prompting questions to learn more about my plans contrasts the fire inside me by sending chills down my spine.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What are your dreams?” Harry stops folding for a moment and exhales a conflicted sigh.

“I’m not too sure at the moment. I’m content at Zara for the moment, and I haven’t decided what’s next. I do write music though.”

“You do?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“What kind of music?” He stops to think again, a bit less conflicted than before.

“It’s like, indie-folk-pop-rock ish.”

“Indie-folk-pop-rock ish?” I can’t contain the laughter spilling from my lips over the mountain of folded t-shirts.

“Yeah. A good bit of variety, really.”

“Well, it’s nice you have something to be passionate about.”

“Judging by how you talked about your dreams for an hour, I wouldn’t say I’m as passionate as you are about your studies.”

“Passion isn’t a competition. It’s what moves you forward as an individual.” It’s Harry’s turn to laugh at me.

“Okay, Gandhi.”

“Hush! I’m allowed to be philosophical.” His laugh draws into a closed-mouth smile, from humor to an adoration of sorts.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” I unintentionally mirror his affectionate smile.

“Promise?”

***

A/N: This was absolutely one of those fics that, the longer I stared at it, the more I hated it and cut it down so here’s what’s remaining before I destroyed the whole thing. It’s def a puff piece and not an in depth fic but nuance is not my friend right now so, sorry about it :(

Taglist: @curlybrownhairedboys @meetmeinfleetwood

#Harry #Harry Styles #Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry Styles fanfic #Harry Styles fic #Harry Styles writing #Harry Styles imagine #Harry Styles oneshot #Harry Styles one shot #Harry Styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #Harry Styles fluff #Harry Styles angst #Harry Styles smut

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koolkat9 · 3 years

Text

HWS Germany Ship Event 2021: Day 1

Prompt: Highschool

Paring: GerEng, side of Itapan

Promposal Gone Wrong? Or Right?

“You and Arthur are going to prom right?” Feliciano asked.

Ludwig almost choked on his food at the sudden question. He, Feliciano, and Kiku were having lunch and of course, as usual, Feliciano was complaining about the cafeteria food (why he didn’t just bring his own was the question Ludwig always had but never voiced), so when he suddenly asked about prom, Ludwig was thrown off slightly. Honestly, he wasn’t planning it. He and Arthur weren’t big on social events and were quite content just settling in at home with a movie. But now that Feliciano was bringing it up, he had never asked if Arthur was interested and maybe he should have. It was a tradition and if done right, very romantic, and Arthur tended to like both.

“I-I don’t know. W-We haven’t really talked about it?” Ludwig stuttered out, picking at the sausage he had prepared for himself that morning.

“You have to Luddy! It's tradition. Picture, you and Arthur, all dressed up in nice suits, low lights, music blaring. A slow dance comes on, you both look at each other hesitantly, but you end up taking his hand and guide him to the dance floor. Wrapping your arms around each other you begin swaying, you tell him how much you love him and-”

“Okay I get the picture,” Ludwig grumbled, his cheeks now bright red. That scenario did seem nice, but he still wasn’t sure.

“You should talk to Arthur about it first,” Kiku suggested, “if you do end up going, you can ride with Feliciano and me.”

Kiku was a breath of fresh air. As much as he loved Feliciano and his enthusiasm, he could be a bit much at times. Kiku balanced him out with his calm and level-headedness. They were the perfect match for each other and surprisingly worked out really well. He gave them an assuring smile and agreed to ask Arthur.

Not long after, said Brit entered the cafeteria, his eyes scanning over the room. When his eyes met Ludwig, his lips twitched into a small smile and he made his way over. With a quick kiss on Ludwig’s cheek, he took a seat beside him and took out his lunch. “Did I miss anything,” he asked, looking around at the three friends.”

Feliciano turned to Ludwig, nodding towards Arthur and encouraging him to ask his question.

“Just prom things,” Ludwig replied, trying to keep his nerves out of his voice. He let out an awkward cough before continuing, “S-Speaking of... I-I was wondering...how do you feel about it?”

Arthur quirked a brow. “Well, I haven’t thought about it. But it's one of the last events of our high school year so maybe...u-unless you don’t want to.”

“I don’t mind. I-If you’d like to go. Kiku and Feli are also going if that’s any incentive.” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his two friends watching them with fond smiles and Feliciano was clearly suppressing a squeal. He never understood why his relationship seemed to bring so much joy to Kiku and Feliciano, but he never asked since it wasn’t hurting anyone so why bother?

Ignoring their antics Ludwig turned his attention back to his lover who seemed to be mulling the idea over. “Alfred has been bugging me about it,” Arthur finally stated, “And a night out with friends would be nice.”

“So it looks like we’re in agreement.” Arthur gave the German’s arm a squeeze before turning his attention to his meal.

Ludwig couldn’t help but feel elated even though he wasn’t one for parties, but anything with Arthur made him happy. This feeling did not last long however as he recalled the tradition of a ‘’prom-prosal.” Was Arthur expecting one? Did he want one? Or was Arthur going to take the lead in this? Did they even need one in the first place since they were dating? Should he ask? But they were usually a surprise, weren’t they?

“Love...is everything okay?” Arthur asked, pulling Ludwig out of his thoughts. “We don’t have to go to prom if you don’t want to.”

“N-Nien, it's nothing like that. I’m just…”

“Overthinking?”

“Ja…”

They had almost forgotten Feliciano and Kiku were there until they announced their departure. “I think we better get going, Feli. We got that big project coming up this week so let's get to class early to get the best supplies.”

Feliciano scrunched his nose up in confusion, but then it dawned on him what his boyfriend’s true motives were. “Oh, si. Bye Lud, bye Arthur!”

And so the other pair of lovers were left alone at the table. They fell into casual conversation, Arthur hoping to get Ludwig’s mind off whatever he was thinking about. It seemed to be working as he was engaged and there was a slight smile on his face much to Arthur’s relief. Soon enough, however, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and Arthur and Ludwig parted ways for class.

---

It had been a couple of days since Ludwig had agreed to go to prom with Arthur and since then he had been stressing over it, specifically if a promposal was in order.

“I say go for it,” Gilbert, Ludwig’s older brother, suggested, “what’s the worst that could happen? Who could be mad at a grand romantic gesture?”

“I-I don’t know...he..we aren’t big on that kind of thing. And what could I even do?”

“Well...do something unique to you. And like you said, you guys don’t do grand so don’t worry about whatever everyone else is doing, Do something unique to you.”

With a ruffle of Ludwig’s hair, Gilbert got up and headed to the kitchen to start dinner.

“Something unique to us,” Ludwig muttered to himself. His phone buzzed and a message popped up on his screen. Of course, Feliciano was asking if he had any ideas yet. After typing a simple reply of ‘I’m still thinking’ he exited the messaging app to his home screen. He lingered on the background photo. Arthur, laughing, cheeks pink and face covered in batter and flour. Ludwig couldn’t help but smile at the picture and the memory it brought.

It was from one of their first dates. Both of them liked baking so Ludwig had invited Arthur over to teach him how to make Kuchen. Despite Ludwig’s nerves, things had been going well until he had to mix the batter. He had become distracted one way or another and ended up setting the mixer too high leading to himself and Arthur becoming covered in batter. He expected the Englishman to be angry since he was often quick to temper, but instead, he was met with the beautiful sound of Arthur’s laughter. For a moment his brain stopped working and just listened, mesmerized by it. He had snapped the picture shortly after to save the moment. Looking back, he was surprised Arthur had let him keep it, but then again, the man was full of surprises. He often let Ludwig get away with things no one else could, which he was grateful for.

As he admired the picture, an idea came to mind. Practically jumping from his spot he ran over to the bookshelf, skimming through for a particular one. He eventually came across an old, brown-covered book whose title read “Beilschmidt Rezepte.” He flipped through it eventually landing on a simple cake recipe. 'What's more us than baking?’ Ludwig thought to himself as he grabbed a piece of paper and began writing down the needed ingredients.

---

The next day, Ludwig got to school even earlier than usual to ensure everything was in order before Arthur arrived. He placed down the box, opening it to make sure the icing didn’t smear (he had brought some extra tubes of icing in case he had to fix anything) and luckily it was untouched. The words ‘Will you go to prom with me?’ were written in clear, loopy green letters.

“Ludwig?” A familiar voice called, causing the German to immediately shut the box. Arthur walked up behind him, guitar in hand and a quizzical look on his face. “What are you doing here so early?”

Ludwig felt his cheeks heat up, feeling as though he had been caught. “W-Well you...you see…I...here.” Without another word, Ludwig shoved the box towards Arthur.

“Ludwig…” Arthur broke out into a fit of laughter leading to Ludwig’s blush deepening. His chest became tight and something like humiliation began to sink in. Usually, Arthur's laugher was a beautiful sound for him, but he couldn't help but feel hurt, thinking Arthur was laughing at him and his promposal. At least no one was around to witness this awkwardness.

“What’s so funny?” Ludwig finally hissed out.

His laughter finally began to die down. “I’m...I’m… so sorry love. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, it's just...I had been planning something too.”

Before Ludwig could reply, Arthur put the cake aside, pulled out his guitar, and began to strum a familiar tune.

“Wise men say

Only fools rush in

But I can’t help falling in love with you

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can’t help falling in love with you.”

Ludwig was left speechless as his lover’s sweet voice filled the air, proclaiming his love loudly. The green eyes that Ludwig loved so much remained fixated on him as the song continued. It sent the German’s heart fluttering and made his throat tight.

“Take my hand

Take my whole life too

For I can’t help falling in love with you

For I can’t help falling in love with you”

And as the song came to an end and Arthur lowered his guitar, he gave Ludwig a loving smile before saying, “Ludwig...will you go to prom for me?”

“I don’t know Arthur,” Ludwig replied, a smirk growing on his face as he picked up the cake once more, “would you go to prom with me.”

Arthur let out another laugh, “Of course my darling.”

And so the two made their way inside to the cafeteria where they got some plastic utensils and shared some cake before everyone else arrived.

#germanyshipevent2021 #hetalia #hws #gereng #engger #geruk #human au #highschool au #promposal #i didn't get a prom so they get one #fluff #hws england #hws germany #fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction #itapan #though its on the side #hws italy #hws japan

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scxrlettwxtches · 4 years

Text

[9:40p.m.] kiss in vehicle + celebration | han jisung

warnings: slight slight making out

requested: yes!

a/n: whaddya know. josie can write fluff??? how?? anyways i really hope y’all enjoy this one! it’s a little shorter and fluffier than my normal scenarios, so i had a lot of fun with it :)

“You know, we’ve been driving for twenty minutes now, and you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“Come on, don’t you have any faith in me at all?” Jisung pouted, shifting gears as his billion year old car puffed along the road, feeling as if it would break down at any moment.

“Normally, yes, but you’re driving out of town and up the mountain, and I can’t help but think you’re just trying to get yourself featured as a serial killer on the next episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved.”

Jisung frowned at that, shifting gears with a little more ferocity than before, “Well, that’s just mean.”

“Why else would we be driving away from civilization?” You asked, crossing your arms with a teasing smile.

“Lots of different reasons!” He protested, reaching over to poke your thigh lightly as you swatted his finger away, “And besides, if I really was planning on murdering you, would I go up to your manager and to let you skip your last shift at the cafe to hang out with me? That makes me a prime suspect.”

Unable to contain your smile any longer, your burst into giggles, covering your mouth, “I suppose that’s fair. But you still won’t tell me where we’re going.”

“It’s a surprise,” Jisung whined, glaring at you halfheartedly. He always had such a big problem hiding his surprises from you, especially when you catch on that something is up. It didn’t help that Jisung was absolutely weak to your questioning, and that the secret always tended to tumble out of his lips before he could stop himself.

Your eyes narrowed with a hint of suspicion, “It’s not my birthday.”

“It’s not your birthday.”

“And it’s not your birthday.”

“And it’s not my birthday.”

“So, what exactly is going on?”

“My darling,” Jisung gave you a dashing smile, “just trust me.”

You let out a light scoff, but behind your teasing words and dripping sarcasm, you’ve always trusted him. First with your friendship, and then with your love. Jisung had never once given you a reason not to trust him.

After what felt like hours, Jisung pulled off the side of the road, and the car creaked and groaned in weak defiance as he pressed the brakes down. You observed your surroundings carefully, and your eyes widen as you see the beautiful view of city down below, the lights illuminating the dark blue sky.

“How did you find this view?” You asked in awe, unbuckling your seatbelt as you leaned forward, resting your arms on the dashboard.

Jisung chuckled, unbuckling his own seatbelt, his gaze not on the view before him, but on your incredulous face, “I have my ways.”

By ways, Jisung meant that he made a few serious Google searches and then picked the one that he thought you’d like the most. So what if it took him more than an hour to decide where to bring you tonight? He was totally enamored with you in every way possible, and he’d long since made it is personal mission to make you the happiest girl in the world. A few hours of work were more than worth it seeing the childlike wonder appear on your face, making your complexion almost glow with beauty.

“Alright, I’ll admit,” You turned to him with that smile that made his heart trip over three flights of stairs and do five summersaults, “This is really amazing. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Jisung giggled, taking your hand and lacing your fingers together, “Apology accepted,” he said smugly, eliciting a playful scoff out of you as he pressed his lips to the back of your hand.

Comfortable silence filled the car, but Jisung began to feel the familiar flutter of anxiety bubbling up as he cleared his throat. Ears perking up at the sound, you turned to him as he squeezed your hand gently, “Hey, Y/N...there’s something I have to tell you.”

“I know. What is it?”

“Well, I--wait,” Jisung’s face contorted in confusion and a bit of panic clawed at his throat, his cheeks puffing out as he repeated, “You know?”

You chuckled, poking his cheek, “Why else would you have brought me someplace special?” You pointed out as you squeezed his hand gently, “But enough about that. What did you wanna tell me?”

Jisung took both of your hands in his, holding them close to his chest as the good news finally burst out, “Igotthejob!”

You blinked once, then twice, struggling to pull apart the avalanche of words that just tumbled out of Jisung’s lips, “You what? Deep breaths, darling.”

Reaching a hand up, you cupped his cheek and began to help him calm himself down, all the while Jisung was unabashedly staring at you with a lovestruck expression plastered to his face. You noticed it and only chuckled, booping his nose before pulling away.

“Okay, let’s try that again, a little slower,” you suggested.

Jisung nodded, taking a deep breath before he said again, “I got the job!”

Now it was your turn to have to calm your breathing as you literally squealed like a little girl, reaching to grab his hands in yours as you asked, “What?! You got picked?!”

“I got picked,” Jisung smiled so widely that he felt like the corners of his lips might split, “Y/N, they want me to start working on my first project next week. Apparently, many of their prominent artists put in good words about my work.”

You were utterly speechless, your mouth opening and closing in amazement. For the first time since Jisung had met you, you were at a genuine loss for words. Your thoughts were running a mile a minutes, filled with pride, elation, relief, pure unrestrained happiness that Jisung had finally achieved the dream he’d been working towards. There were so many moments of doubt, so many sleepless nights in which you held him to your chest, soothing his anxious tears as you ran your fingers through his hair. But now, all his hard work was finally coming into fruition, and you couldn’t be prouder of him.

Unable to express your love through words, you acted the only way you knew how. Your hands reached out, cupping his cheeks firmly an even squishing them a little. Jisung’s eyes could only widen in surprise before you pulled him forward, pressing your lips against his.

Jisung melted into the kiss before his brain even processed it. His arm looped around your waist, pulling you as close as he could with the center compartment in between the two of you. He kissed with just as much, if not more fervor than you had, caressing your soft lips with his. Jisung was a playful kisser, and you loved it more than anything. He liked to mess around even during the most innocent of kisses. He rolled your lower lip gently with his teeth, he cupped your chin delicately to hold you still as his kisses trailed to the corners of your mouth down to your jaw, causing you to giggle.

Eventually, he pulled away, his eyes filled with unmatched love and adoration as he brushed the strands of hair away from your face. The full moon illuminated the inside of the car, and your complexion seemed almost unreal under the silver light. Every day, especially this particular day, Jisung genuinely wondered what sort of good deeds he must’ve done in his past life to have the chance to be yours, your one and only.

“Y/N…” Jisung’s voice was no more than a gentle whisper, like the summer breeze beside the ocean. He brushed a strand of your hair away from your face as he smiled, “you know what else?”

“Enlighten me,” you smiled, leaning into his touch.

“The annual salary for the new job is high, even higher if you think about the royalties,” Jisung explained with a sparkle in his eyes as he finally gets to the core of the argument, “Y/N, I can finally take care of you the way you deserve.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, unsure of the intention behind his words, “Jisung…”

“You don’t have to work at that awful convenience store where your boss treats you like shit. You don’t have to work three jobs just to pay off our rent,” Jisung clutched your hand as he spoke, and your eyes widened as he kissed your knuckles.

“You held me in your arms and loved me when I was nothing,” Jisung murmured, and he reached back with his free arm, pulling something out of his pocket, “That night when the only thing that kept me from giving it all up was your words and your unconditional love, I made a promise to myself that I would return all of your love a thousand fold.”

Gasping, you covered your mouth with your hand as Jisung pulled out a black velvet box, and just from the encasing you could tell the price of it obviously far above your normal budgets. You felt your heart skip a beat as you realized that Jisung probably spent all of his first paycheck on this present. Speaking of Jisung, your boyfriend seemed considerably more nervous than a second ago, and he swallowed down his nerves, opening the box and revealing a beautiful diamond ring.

“Will you let me love you for the rest of our lives? Will you let me hold you when you’re stressed, comfort you when you’re sad, celebrate with you when you’re happy?” he asked softly, and despite his nervousness, his voice dripped with velvet love and adoration as he looked into your eyes.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

The tears rolled down your cheeks as you nodded eagerly, your hand trembling as you choked out, “Yes. Yes, of course I will, Sungie!”

Jisung’s hands shook almost as much as yours did as he slipped the ring onto your third finger. It was a perfect fit, a ring that perfectly matched your style and the size of your hand. It made you wonder for a moment how many times Jisung had snuck in secret looks at your hand in order to get it so perfect, but your thoughts vanished as Jisung surged forward almost desperately, smashing his lips against yours.

You giggled at his eagerness, although you weren’t any less excited, and under the glow of the full moon, the ring glittered as Jisung’s hands played with the curvature of your waist and your hands were buried in his soft locks. In that moment, it didn’t matter what the future held. It didn’t matter that Jisung’s beat up car might not survive the trip down the mountain.

All you knew was that you had each other, and to be honest, that was all you ever needed.

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unjourjeseraideretourpresdetoi · 3 years

Text

9/10 Chapter 1 - Malt

I started writing a bit of a Harry/Kim fanfic??? Because why the hell not. Anyway, here’s the first part of it. I’m kind of just making it up as I go with a few specific ideas scattered in my head. Spoilers for various plot points. Here’s a sample before the cut. Feel free to send any suggestions or critique, since it’s been ages since I have done much writing. Still working on getting a feel for Harry’s skill voices.

YOU — After a little while, your voice finally returns. “Why are you so nice to me?” KIM KITSURAGI — He takes a long pause and leans back in his chair. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just stubborn too.” PERCEPTION — You turn to look at him as you finally untangle yourself from your chrysalis of arms, and he looks different somehow. You don’t know if it’s your eyes being sore as hell, or the dull ambiance of the hazy bar lights. Somehow, he looks so light. His bomber jacket is slightly pulled up by his folded arms behind his head, seeming to break the bulky illusion it usually projects over his slim torso. Like suddenly seeing a gap in a suit of armor. SUGGESTION — You should tickle him. ESPRIT DE CORPS — He will kill you in mere seconds if you do that.

ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Hello again, Harry boy. The midnight train to Fuck-All-Borough is boarding once again, and you’ve pre-paid your seat. YOU — Okay. ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — Yes, that’s right. Let’s drive right into the sweet, succulent sopor of oblivion. Let no feelings come to pass, no sensations, just the pure bliss of the radiating void. YOU — But aren’t you here? ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN — That’s just it, Harry. I’m nothing. I am the pale of the mind, I am the deafening silence, I am the black canvas that stretches taut when you close your eyes. I am the swaddle that cradles the mind and the ocean you will drown in. I am born of you and someday, you will die in me. LIMBIC SYSTEM — But not yet—something still stirs in this weighted sack. Something heavy, and sore, and full of noise that steadily rises into a crescendo.

PERCEPTION — And then you open your eyes. And it fucking hurts. PAIN THRESHOLD — Dear god, it’s like a jackhammer on a pogo stick on another jackhammer. PERCEPTION — You realize there’s a smell you haven’t smelled in a few weeks now that’s uncomfortably emanating from your form. Al Gul. COMPOSURE — Oh. You finally did it again. You fucked up.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — So we got a little smashed. Who cares. You know what’s a great way to stop feeling sorry about it? Getting smashed again. AUTHORITY — No. YOU — Why am I always fucking things up? HALF LIGHT — Because life is terrifying. LOGIC — He’s right about that one.

YOU — What was I doing last night? ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Like I said, getting smashed. CONCEPTUALIZATION — Painting the world with a palette of sugary booze and sad, old rock and roll for sad, old rockstars.

YOU — Who did I hurt this time? DRAMA — Mostly, just yourself. VOLITION — A small miracle, if so. You’re used to self-immolation. YOU — But why? Why now? We were doing better. ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Speak for yourself. LOGIC — You do know that you can’t just ride out two decades of practiced chemical drowning on a workhorse of piety and guilt, right?

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — This ceaseless dependency on cocktails of narcotics and spirits has weakened you shamefully. PERCEPTION — You look around your dimly lit bedroom, eyes half-closed anyway to quiet the searing pain in your cerebral cortex, slowly putting the pieces back together as the rest of your body wakes up.

YOU — I was having a shitty day. I was stuck on a case and my mind just kept drifting into half-remembered past mistakes. After work, I decided to do it. I called her again, like an idiot. I thought to myself, I can do this, I can let her go, and I’ll tell her I’m finally over it (almost). INLAND EMPIRE — But that is not how it went. She had prepared for the next time you would call. The last time was terrifying enough, torn awake at 3 in the morning, listening to your desperate lies, digging through past trauma.

YOU — “Hey, uh, Dora. It’s Harry. I’m sorry—“ PERCEPTION — A sharp sigh breaks your concentration. DORA — “Let me stop you there, Harry. Because I’m tired of this. You’ve been doing this six years now but it feels at least twice as long. So since you can’t put an end to it, I am. Don’t call again. You won’t be reaching me at this number anymore.” PERCEPTION — Before you can react, there’s silence. And a dial tone. YOU — Fuck. Fuck shit fuck.

COMPOSURE — You stumble through dialing the number again, fingers slipping the first time from nerves and connecting the second, with no answer. You try again. And again. And then you stop trying. It takes everything in you not to smash the phone where it sits. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — You need to smash something. If we can’t smash the phone, we HAVE to smash something. REACTION SPEED — Your feet are already taking you away from the pay phone, one thought ahead of the rest of you. You barely round the corner into the alley before you plant your fist full force into the nearest brick wall. PAIN THRESHOLD — Your hand spirals into a fractal of pain, blood dripping down your busted knuckles, slowly running down the dirtied wall. You can feel the cracking of your knuckles, like a brittle lacework of glass strapped down only by the leather of your worn-out hands. HALF-LIGHT — Get out of here. ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Now that you’re done smashing your fist, it’s time to get the rest of you smashed. YOU — “Fuck it. I’m getting a drink.”

CONCEPTUALIZATION — From there, it was a blaze of sweet, hot fire down your throat and back up again, run ragged from shitty karaoke and mild alcohol poisoning. But the film reel is running thin, and you’re struggling to get anything else from your memory bank.

YOU — How did I get back? I don’t remember walking home. ESPRIT DE CORPS — You asked for help.

HAND-EYE COORDINATION — You pat at your pockets, searching for the right one, not quite remembering what you’re doing but knowing the answer you thought of for a fraction of a second is somewhere in there. After a moment, you find it, carefully tucked away but nevertheless damp with sweat from your slacks.

“If you need to talk— 005-93-88-651 Lt. Kitsuragi”

INTERFACING — Your hands are a bit shaky, but you dial out the number on the slip of paper in your hands. PERCEPTION — It rings once. Twice. A third time. And then you hear the receiver click. KIM KITSURAGI — “Hello?”

SHIVERS — In a small apartment in Central Jamrock, not too far from Precinct 41, and not too far from the Jamrock Public Library, Lieutenant Kitsuragi sits on his bed, some light reading in hand, winding down for the night. His new apartment is still filled with cardboard boxes here and there, in no particular hurry to be unpacked. The lights of the city pierce through like little pinpricks in the glare of his bedside window, still insistent on their presence even in the quiet of a cool spring night.

YOU — “Hi, Kim, I uh…” Your voice shakes and you lose your words for a moment, because some part of you really didn’t expect him to pick up. KIM KITSURAGI — “Detective? It’s after midnight.” DRAMA — It’s already that late? You must’ve woken him up. A bad start. YOU — “Uhh… sorry, I uh. Wasn’t looking at the clock. We can just talk tomorrow—“ KIM KITSURAGI — “You’re drunk.” COMPOSURE — Fuck. There’s nothing coming out of your mouth anymore. Another bad phone call. It takes everything in you not to cry. You do anyway.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Where are you?” YOU — You manage to croak out enough to say “Sunshine’s Hideaway. Bar on 12th street.” KIM KITSURAGI — He pauses a moment, thinking. “...I’ll be there in a few minutes.” ESPRIT DE CORPS — He’s thinking about the best route there. LOGIC — He doesn’t have his motor carriage right now. He’s going to have to walk it, and it’s cold out. YOU — “I… you don’t have to do that, I’ll just—“ KIM KITSURAGI — “Harrier, just shut up and park your ass somewhere warm until I get there.” AUTHORITY — He’s doing it! He’s doing the eyebrow thing but on the phone! I didn’t know he could do that! YOU — “Yessir.”

It probably takes about 15 minutes for him to arrive, though each minute feels like five. You feel like a child waiting for their parents to come pick them up at school. You’re pretty sure everyone is staring at you. You can’t really see through the blurry bokeh of your stupid tears. But you can just barely make out the door of the bar opening, followed by a silhouette marked by orange slipping through. Lieutenant Kitsuragi spots you after a moment, and you quickly try to wipe your eyes like you haven’t just been crying the whole time as he approaches. KIM KITSURAGI — You can hear him pull at the chair next to yours, calmly settling into place. “Hello, detective.”

YOU — You try to pull up some words, but you just find yourself nodding appreciatively as you try not to grimace. COMPOSURE — Somehow, the moment his eyes fall on you, you feel like someone just ripped the rug right out from under your feet. You slide down on your elbows, face pressing down onto the table in humiliation, locking your hands together on the back of your neck, like you’re trying to hide in a little tomb of your own arms.

KIM KITSURAGI — You hear the lieutenant take a deep breath and sigh. He unzips his jacket, stifling him in the warm interior of the bar. “That rough, huh?”

YOU — You don’t want to say anything, but your mouth opens before you can stop it. “I’m such an asshole, Kim. I keep fucking everything up, over and over, no matter how hard I try. I just. Keep falling back into my bullshit.” Your voice shakes as you get the words out. “Is this just as good as it’s gonna get at this point? Have I fucked up entirely too much, entirely too long, am I just… this constant trainwreck now and forever? How much of myself have I wasted away into nothing, doing this shit? Acting like a child. Acting like an animal. It feels sometimes like all I have is more downturns. More hurting people. More hurting myself. And I’m so, so fucking tired… and I don’t wanna do this anymore. If this is how it is, I don’t want to… be.” Your voice stops making any noise by the time you reach the end of that.

HALF-LIGHT — And then there’s silence. You know this silence. It’s the sound of someone deciding they’re sick of your shit. This is the moment he realizes he really, truly does not know you and you don’t know him. And he knows he has to get out of here, before you take him down with you, like you’ve done to so many others. EMPATHY — But then there’s a hard pat on your back. Thumping against a hollow drum, ringing through your electrified lungs. KIM KITSURAGI — “It’s okay, detective.” PERCEPTION — His voice is soft and careful.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Honestly, it’s astonishing you’ve held out this long. It’s barely been two months since Martinaise. Since the Whirling. Throughout my time in the RCM, I have seen many good officers break over less. I didn’t know you before March. I don’t really know what kind of officer you might’ve been before that. But who I am familiar with is the Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor Harrier Du Bois, the officer I met two months ago, who is probably the strangest man I’ve ever met, but he is also the most relentless, the most stubborn, the most annoying, and honestly, the most sincere man I’ve ever known to grace the RCM. He is a man who cares enough to find the time in his busy workload to help people he just met, whose troubles he sniffs out like a bloodhound, offering them the help that no one else would. No matter how trivial, or how complicated. I don’t know if this selflessness is something you picked up because you don’t know how to help yourself, but I do know there’s a real effort in there. There’s a real, true love for the people of Revachol. And I know how much this job takes out of people. You can’t turn every mistake around in just a few months. Probably not even a few years. But I think what matters is that you are trying, and I can see how much it hurts you to feel like you’ve failed in that. Please don’t think that tonight is a sign that you can’t do better. Tonight is a dam breaking in the expectations you’ve built up for yourself after staring down your own potential.”

PERCEPTION — Are you laughing? Or is that crying? INLAND EMPIRE — It feels like there are ghosts escaping your every breath. Like parts of you are desperately rushing to the surface, tearing through flesh and bone, clawing at a chance for freedom. The lieutenant’s arm still rests heavily on your back, the only anchor your spirit has left as it dissipates into vapor and rushes through the night.

VOLITION — You cry until there’s nothing left in you anymore.

KIM KITSURAGI — After a moment, he realizes you’re staring at him, then adjusts in his seat, leaning forward and settling his arms in front of him. “How are you feeling? Do you think you can walk?” YOU — “I uhh... probably. My leg doesn’t hurt as much right now.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Mm.” He mutters, getting up from his seat. “At least there is that small grace. How far is your place?” PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — You’re pretty sure he’s offering to walk you back. You’re not a child, you can get home perfectly fine on your own, thank you. YOU — “Ten blocks.” COMPOSURE — You quickly try to rise to your feet, but it becomes immediately apparent that the floor has been replaced with a rickety old carousel, and you promptly lose your footing. REACTION SPEED — Before you can even attempt to figure out what is happening, you realize that Lieutenant Kitsuragi has wrapped one of his arms around your back. PERCEPTION — His grip is tight and you can feel the muscles tensing in his forearm against your back. Once again, its presence stabilizes you, a beacon for your twisting senses to converge upon. It takes a few moments for everything to slot back into the correct place. KIM KITSURAGI — “Are you sure you’re alright, detective?” DRAMA — His concern is quite sincere. YOU — “I just gotta sleep this off.” You say as you steady yourself back upright.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Let’s get going, then.” He nods to you as he zips up his jacket again, then stretches his right arm out behind your back. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — No, dude, fuck that shit, you’re sick of people propping you up because of your stupid leg, we can do this shit on our own! YOU — “Thanks.” You steady yourself against his arm and extend your left against his back as well. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — Hey, what! DRAMA — By now, the lieutenant knows when you’re just trying to bullshit and act like a tough guy. It’s time to drop the act, for now. He knows you need the help. You wouldn’t have called him if you didn’t.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — That’s all I got. The rest is just black. YOU — Ugghhhhhh damn it. Like Kim hasn’t seen enough of me making an ass of myself by now. EMPATHY — On the bright side, his mental image of you can probably only improve. Hopefully. Maybe. YOU — Whatever. What time is it? PERCEPTION — You look around for your alarm clock, and find it knocked onto the floor beside your bed. It says 9:53. YOU — Shit. Did I have work today? ESPRIT DE CORPS — No. Your hours have been temporarily reduced during your recovery period. YOU — Right. Okay. I should probably get up and do something about this headache.

You throw the blanket off of your body and gradually roll yourself out of bed, bones creaking with aches and pains, limping across the room and dodging various discarded clothes and shoes that litter the floor. You twist the doorknob and open your bedroom door, making your way across the living room, towards the bathroom.

REACTION SPEED — Wait! There’s someone… on the couch? PERCEPTION — A figure of a man lies on the couch, covered with an ugly patchwork blanket, still sleeping. Next to the couch, an orange bomber jacket rests. Wait… is that Kim? HALF-LIGHT — OH MY GOD, you’re half-naked, GET BACK IN YOUR ROOM AND PUT YOUR PANTS ON BEFORE YOU HUMILIATE YOURSELF. SAVOIR FAIRE — You quickly backpedal, trying not to make any noise, and press your door shut firmly, hoping that you weren’t noticed. YOU — Why is he here??? I thought he just walked me home? HALF-LIGHT — Stop thinking and get your damn armor on! VOLITION — Armor? We didn’t find any armor pants in Martinaise. DRAMA — He’s being metaphorical. You hurriedly stuff your legs into the closest pair of semi-clean trousers before peeking out the door again.

PERCEPTION — The lieutenant is still asleep on the couch. SAVOIR FAIRE — Alright, go time. You sneak through the living room and into the bathroom, carefully trying not to creak the medicine cabinet as you get yourself some painkillers. ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Down the whole bottle! Party time! VOLITION — No. We are not doing that.

After taking the recommended dose of painkillers, you peek out into the living room again. PERCEPTION — Lieutenant Kitsuragi is still resting quietly on your couch, lying on his back, tightly wrapped in the ugly spare blanket from your linen closet. You suddenly realize there’s something different about the living room… such as, there’s less garbage everywhere. EMPATHY — Did he clean the room up for you? Or maybe for himself?

You exit the bathroom and slowly cross the living room, stopping halfway through, looking at the lieutenant again. PERCEPTION — He looks peaceful, and his face relaxed and still. With his glasses off, you notice more of the shape of his brow and his tired eyes. His breathing is slow and measured, with quiet sighs. One of his arms dangles out from under the blanket, his hand just barely off the floor. His fingers are thin, bony, weathered from work, with little scars and blemishes that have mostly faded away.

SUGGESTION — Hold it.

YOU — What?

No one replies. You stare for a moment, feeling a tension in your chest. Curiosity snakes through your skin. You step closer towards the couch, then slowly crouch down, meeting the lieutenant’s eye level.

SUGGESTION — Hold it. Please.

You reach forward, and the lieutenant suddenly stirs.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Mmnh…” His eyes flutter open. “Oh, good morning detective.” YOU — “Uh, yeah. Good morning.” You casually withdraw your hand and rest it on your leg. “Why are you here…?” KIM KITSURAGI — “You don’t remember?” He asks with a hint of concern. YOU — “Well, mostly. I remember you helped me walk home, but after that, it’s fuzzy.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Ah, so just the normal amount of alcohol-induced forgetfulness.” The lieutenant nods at you, then sits up on the couch. He reaches for his glasses on the side table, then folds them open. “I decided to stay here on the couch, just in case...” He trails off. EMPATHY — To keep an eye on you. In case you started doing worse.

YOU — “...Thanks. I’m sorry for interrupting your night.” KIM KITSURAGI — “No need to apologize,” he says with a slight smile. “Honesty, I’m… glad you asked for help instead of isolating yourself. That would have been…” He pauses, looking for the correct words. “Not ideal. What time is it, anyway?” YOU — “Bit after 10.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Already that late? Good thing I’m not working today.”

YOU — “Sorry to make you clean up after me.” You say, glancing across the room. KIM KITSURAGI — “Well, no, it’s not your fault or anything. You didn’t expect company.” He seems a bit self-conscious suddenly, looking away. “I suppose it’s more like I don’t know how to leave a mess alone.” SUGGESTION — You’re not sure which mess he means—the apartment, or you. EMPATHY — It’s both. You feel a slight embarrassment tingling across the surface of your skin and decide to change the topic.

YOU — “You said you have the day off?” KIM KITSURAGI — “Yes, I have a few errands to run, part of some loose ends to clean up for my transfer to 41. But I can get those done any time during the day.” SUGGESTION — You should— YOU — “Do you wanna go get breakfast? I know a good place down the street.” You say it before you can even finish thinking. KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant sits quietly for a moment, adjusting his glasses. “Hmmm… sure, why the hell not. I’ve got some time to spare.” SUGGESTION — Jackpot! YOU — “I’m gonna go get dressed, you’re welcome to the bathroom if you need it.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Sounds good.”

You walk into your bedroom and shut the door behind you.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — Time to get stylish! LOGIC — Not that stylish, it’s just breakfast. Don’t make it weird. INLAND EMPIRE — Hey, weird is our thing! YOU — I think I’m just gonna wear whatever’s clean and doesn’t smell repulsive. CONCEPTUALIZATION — Oh, sorry, didn’t know we were Boring Cop today.

After taking a quick glance at what’s available, you decide to just go with a simple, pastel gingham button-up and a fresh pair of jeans. Glancing at your coats, you grab a blue blazer with a checkered lining.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — Oh my god you look like a nerd. RHETORIC — No, he looks smart. Ready to have a battle of the wits. PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT — Yeah, like I said, A NERD!

You quietly ignore the high school bullying going on inside your head as you exit the room. Lieutenant Kitsuragi glances at you from next to the couch, in the middle of putting on his jacket.

KIM KITSURAGI — “No disco today?” He says with a slight smile. YOU — “All my disco’s due for the wash.” KIM KITSURAGI — He tugs at his collar and settles his jacket into place. “It’s almost odd to see you in something so… tame.” YOU — “I mean, I still got the jackets from Fuck the World and Piss F****t if you change your mind.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Somehow I doubt the waitstaff would be understanding of the artist’s statements at breakfast.” He lets out a small chuckle. EMPATHY — There’s a surprising softness in his response. KIM KITSURAGI — “I’m all set to go if you are.”

The two of you head out of your apartment and set out down the road, your destination just two blocks away. The streets of Jamrock are already lively with pedestrians and motor carriages milling about. Before long, you arrive at a staircase with a weathered, striped canopy hanging above, quietly announcing its presence with simple text saying “The Lazy Daisy”. You and the lieutenant head down the stairs and enter the little eatery, pushing past the door and being met with the sweet and salty smells of this morning’s meals. You wave to the waitress and take a seat at a little table in the corner.

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant takes his seat across from you, his eyes studying the surroundings. “You know, I never noticed this place before.” YOU — “Yeah, it’s easy to miss amongst all the other businesses on this road.” KIM KITSURAGI — “But you remembered it?” YOU — “I think my feet did.”

WAITRESS — A cheerful, pudgy woman in her forties wearing a striped apron walks over to the table, little menu books in hand. “Good morning officers! Thanks for stopping by the Lazy Daisy today. Can I get you something to drink while you look over the menu?”

YOU — “You wanna get a pot of coffee, Kim?” KIM KITSURAGI — “Sure, that sounds fine.” WAITRESS — “Alright, I’ll give you a moment to look over the menu!”

You already know what you’re going to order: skillet hash with a side of toast. You watch the lieutenant look the menu over and find yourself wondering what he’ll order. YOU — “You seem like an Eggs Benedict kind of guy to me.” KIM KITSURAGI — “I was thinking about trying this malted waffle actually. It’s been a while since I had a good waffle.” He replies, not looking up from the menu. “But you are correct, I do enjoy a good Eggs Benedict.”

YOU — “Can’t go wrong with either one.” WAITRESS — The waitress returns, a full pot of coffee in one hand and two mugs in the other. She gently places the pot of coffee at the center of the little table and places the mugs down on either side. “Alright, so what can I get for you boys?” YOU — “I’ll go for the skillet hash with a side of dry toast. And the lieutenant here…” KIM KITSURAGI — “I’ll take a malted waffle with a side of bacon.” WAITRESS — “Sounds great! I’ll bring it out when it’s ready.”

You turn your attention to the coffee and partially fill both of the mugs, absent-mindedly adding a sugar cube and a little cup of half-and-half to yours and stirring, watching the color spread and blend. You look up and notice the lieutenant surveying the restaurant again.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Hmmm… yes, this place certainly seems your style.” YOU — “What, sad and old?” KIM KITSURAGI — He smiles slightly, but his brow betrays his discomfort. “No, I was thinking more along the lines of… eclectic, stubborn, lively.” He glances at the walls covered in various posters, art, and rock and roll memorabilia. YOU — “Disco.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Disco.” He nods affirmatively.

You absently stir your coffee and lift it to your mouth to take a sip, mulling over topics of conversation. RHETORIC — Go for a standard sort of icebreaker, what’s the latest with him, that sort of thing. ESPRIT DE CORPS — Let’s talk work. Trade some gritty case stories with him! INTERFACING — Maybe you could talk torque dork to torque dork? EMPATHY — Neither of you have motor carriages right now. That would just be a bummer. INLAND EMPIRE — Ask him to tell you a secret! AUTHORITY — That one never works.

YOU — “You just moved into your new place, right Kim? How is it?” KIM KITSURAGI — “Hmm, it’s not bad. I had to make a few concessions but… there’s a bit more floor space than my last place. I finally have a good space for a proper desk.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Now the only trouble is getting a desk up three flights of stairs.”

YOU — “I can lend you a hand with that if you want. I have reason to suspect I may be a former gym teacher.” PERCEPTION — You can’t really hear it, but judging by the steam rolling away from the mug at his lips, you can tell the lieutenant let a light chuckle out through his nose before taking another sip of coffee.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Maybe I’ll take you up on that when I find something suitable.” RHETORIC — Great job! Look at you! You’re so good at talking like a normal person!

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant casually withdraws his notebook from his jacket and starts perusing it while he slowly sips his coffee. YOU — “Hey, no working until we’ve had breakfast.” KIM KITSURAGI — He barely moves, glancing upwards at you and cocking an eyebrow. AUTHORITY — It’s fine, that brow is only operating at about 25% capacity. You got this. YOU — “Take a break, lieutenant.” You place your hand on top of his, gently encouraging him to lower the notebook onto the table. He nonchalantly relents, quickly withdrawing his hand and tucking it under his other arm, which rests casually on the table. His glance wanders away from you and out towards the windows. EMPATHY — It’s hard to tell if he’s annoyed or just playing up indifference. Perhaps you shouldn’t have grabbed his hand like that.

You take a moment to look around the restaurant, passively taking in the surroundings that feel intensely familiar to your instincts, but strangely recent to the rest of you. It’s a weird feeling, one you’ve been experiencing just about everywhere you go in Jamrock. Places that you know but have never seen. Drifting shadows of the person you once were, and still are, half-buried in a haze. Your head fluctuates in the pressure, a mix of pristine images just out of reach and faint illusions gripped tightly in your palm.

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant’s low voice suddenly pulls you back to reality. “Everything alright, detective?” INLAND EMPIRE — There is a hole in my brain. YOU — “Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about the usual.” You pause, contemplating your next words. “Grinding the bourgeoisie into sausage for the proletariat and whatnot,” you lie. KIM KITSURAGI — “Ah, so nice of you to join us, Comrade Mazov.” YOU — You quickly bust out your trusty finger guns and fire off two shots, clicking your tongue as you snap your fingers. KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant is unphased by your reckless discharge of live rounds that undoubtedly rain chaos upon the once peaceful restaurant. DRAMA — C’mon, he probably thinks it’s at least a little cool. EMPATHY — It’s not, man.

RHETORIC — Let’s get back to the list. What else can we talk about? YOU — “Tell me a secret about yourself.” KIM KITSURAGI — He sighs. “This again?” YOU — “You know it.” KIM KITSURAGI — He pauses for a moment. “No.” YOU — “Aww, come on.” KIM KITSURAGI — He raises one eyebrow. AUTHORITY — Oh god, we have full capacity brow-raising. I repeat, full capacity!

KIM KITSURAGI — His brow lowers slightly, offering a challenge. “You’re terrible at keeping secrets. Maybe if you can think of a single piece of personal trivia you haven’t already divulged entirely unprompted to any random passerby, we can come back to this topic.” ESPRIT DE CORPS — He does not believe that his terms can be met. He is secure in that. SUGGESTION — Challenge accepted! YOU — “Deal.” DRAMA — You’re gonna need to work on this for like, at least 8 hours probably. Maybe more like 20.

WAITRESS — The same woman reappears with a tray in hand, radiating the unmistakable smell of hot, fresh breakfast. “Here you are, sirs!” She gently slides the plates in front of each of you. “Let me know if there’s anything else you need! Enjoy your food!” PERCEPTION — You notice the name on her apron: Denice. YOU — “Thanks, Denice.” WAITRESS — She offers a polite smile before leaving.

You immediately start digging in, shoveling the mixed bits of potato, egg, bacon, and cheese into your mouth, savoring the salt and fat of a hearty breakfast. It’s your favorite meal, but you don’t always have the time or energy to get anything decent most mornings.

SUGGESTION — Hey, I just had a great idea! Offer Kim some of this shit. YOU — You finish the bite you have in your mouth quickly. “Hey, Kim, you wanna try some of mine?” KIM KITSURAGI — He blinks. “No, thank you. I’ve got plenty here.” He looks down at the colossal waffle on his plate, barely dented. YOU — “Yeah but this is like, stupid good. I’ll even let you have some egg yolk.” KIM KITSURAGI — “Very generous of you.” He smirks, then studies your plate for a moment. “Hm… sure, why not.”

You slide your plate a bit closer to him. He holds his fork up, surveying for the ideal sample size. Then, he strikes, claiming an entire egg for himself.

YOU — “Woooow.” You feign offence. KIM KITSURAGI — “Sorry, detective. I’ll need to confiscate this. I believe it may be connected to a case I’m working on.” He tries to keep a straight face but the corner of his mouth is slightly turned upwards. In seconds, he files the evidence into his mouth and promptly destroys it.

YOU — “Can’t believe the corruption I am witnessing here.” In a counter-attack, you jab your fork into one of the untouched corners of the lieutenant’s waffle. KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant stabs his knife down across from your fork, as if ready to engage in combat. He stares you down, brows furrowed with the illusion of authority. “Detective, I would tread carefully if I were you. You have entered enemy territory, and I have the high ground.”

PERCEPTION — You can feel your face turning red in the heat of the incredibly stupid breakfast battle you have entered. AUTHORITY — Do it! Let loose the dogs of war! Get that fucking waffle! KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant narrows his eyes at you, his concentration unwavering. The authority levels are building in his brow. They are charged to 50% capacity. DRAMA — I have an idea, sire.

YOU — You relax back in your seat, looking behind Kim. “Oh, hey Captain Pryce, here to enjoy the best breakfast in Central Jamrock?” KIM KITSURAGI — He quickly turns his head to look behind him. SAVOIR FAIRE — In an instant, you slice a corner of the waffle free from Kim’s plate, casually sliding it onto yours. KIM KITSURAGI — Realizing the feint, he snaps his attention back to you, glaring.

YOU — You pull your plate back, then pick up your mug, gesturing towards the lieutenant with a slight smirk. “Truce?” KIM KITSURAGI — Studying you for a moment, he reluctantly picks up his mug and clinks it against yours. “For now.”

#disco elysium #de spoilers #disco elysium spoilers #fanfic #koko fic #de fanfic

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formenis · 3 years

Text

Score of zero: Love (”Gym” pt.2)

@ everybodyhatesluh asked: “I need part 2 of "gym"! Plss! Where the reader tells her love for L! And then her dad askes her who is her boyfriend! I would Love! Luh~💫💛🦋"

Tennis references~

I like putting L in a difficult position, ehehe~

pairing: L x Yagami!fem!reader

warning: fluff I guess?

requested: yes

Remember English is not my first language (and it’s a bit late here) so I’m sorry about the mistakes in my stories.

«"Chocolate Covered Strawberry Brownies"? No, I don't have the mould»

Flip.

«"Heart-Shaped Cake"? Too obvious»

Flip.

«"Strawberry Shortcake Fudge"? It's too pink»

Y/N closed the book and groaned. «Ugh! I can't get my head round this! The fact that he loves all sweets bothers me…»

It was late afternoon at Yagami house. Orange sunbeams lighted up the kitchen and the living room creating a relaxing atmosphere, all despite the narrow space of the house. Y/N was alone in that moment: Light was somewhere with Soichiro, Sachiko was visiting one of her friends and Sayu was at school for some project.

Y/N took advantage of the situation to bake something for Hideki on the occasion of Valentine's Day. However, she sensed that Hideki would never reciprocate her feelings: he gave her the impression to be out of her reach.

«Come on! I'm a Yagami, after all! At least I have to try» Y/N leafed again through the cookery book when she heard the front door open.

«I'm home!»

It was Sayu, she came back earlier from school. Y/N quickly tried to hide the cookbook but Sayu entered the kitchen in a rush. «Y/N~ What are you doing?»

«Me? I wanted to bake something…»

«Really? For who?~» Sayu asked with a strange smirk.

«For myself I guess?» Y/N lied hoping Sayu would go away. But her little sister's smirk just grew wider.

«I don’t believe you~» the two sisters stared at each other for entire minutes. They were secretly hoping the other would give in.

Y/N sighed. «Fine, it's for a boy…» she admitted after a while, Y/N couldn’t lie at her cute sister.

Sayu, on the other hand, was squealing like a fangirl. «I knew it! I knew it! My sis has a crush!»

«Sayu please! Don’t yell…and don’t tell dad!»

Once again, the youngest Yagami smirked mischievously. «I will be as silent as the grave…at one condition»

Y/N sighed again. «What condition…»

«You have to help me with homework for a month»

Y/N complained loudly but if it was the price for Sayu's silence, she had to accept it. So Y/N agreed with her sister and together they started to choose a good sweet to give to this mysterious boy. Y/N told her about how they met and how she became infatuated by him despite most people would define him as "weird".

«Since you played tennis with him, why don’t you do something that recalls a tennis match?» Sayu said casually while browsing through the cookbook bored. At first Y/N didn’t pay attention to what she said but then, after a long reasoning, she hugged Sayu very tightly.

«Sayu, you're a genius!»

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

Something in L's plan went wrong. Impossible, nothing planned by him went wrong…but what happened?

Originally, his intention was to get closer to Y/N Yagami in order to find some evidence about his involvement in the Kira case. More in particular, a proof that Y/N's older brother was, indeed, Kira himself. L would appear in the right places at the right moments, he would always say the right things and he would always be a great listener. Of course he already knew everything about the Yagami family so every confidence Y/N would do to him, the greatest detective L was already informed about it. But he acted as if he never heard anything.

Initially, it went well. Y/N was getting closer and closer to him, her confidences became more intimate and she opened more to him. L was even touched when he heard from her –during the period of surveillance- that she was in love with him, he found her cute. In this exact moment everything fell for him. And L fell too…yes, he fell in love with Y/N Yagami.

In this situation we shouldn’t forget about Soichiro. He, being Y/N's father, was more than bothered by what he heard from the cameras in his house. But not because he didn’t trust his Y/N but mostly because he didn’t trust this "boy" she talked about.

«Uhm Chief…are you sure about this?»

«Matsuda, we have to investigate. This boy could be Kira!»

«But Chief…I think your daughter would never date a potential Kira» Aizawa replied looking at his superior with shock.

«Aizawa is right, Yagami-san. Please, focus your energies on the Kira case and not on your daughter's romantic life»

Soichiro snorted, not fully convinced, but Ryuzaki was his superior co-worker and he had to obey. At least for now.

«Casual or formal attire?»

«Casual of course. It's not a date…yet»

«Sayu!»

The two sister, together in Y/N's room, were deciding the outfit for Y/N's love confession. Now she understood her classmates' nervousness about Valentine's day.

«Dress or not dress?» Y/N asked unsure in front of the mirror with two cute dresses in her hands.

«Y/N, wear whatever makes you comfortable…even your school uniform if you want»

She nodded at Sayu and chose F/C shirt / blouse / sweatshirt / hoodie paired with F/C pants / skirt / shorts and favourite shoes. In her bag / small backpack she put all her belongings and the cake she baked for Hideki. Y/N applied a little bit of makeup and brushed her H/C hair in a cute hairstyle.

«How do I look?»

«Gorgeous sis~»

Y/N smiled at Sayu and thanked her for all the advices. Shortly afterwards she would confess her feelings for a boy met at the gym.

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

And then, the day came. 14th February. Y/N decided to meet Hideki after one of his tennis matches at the To-Oh University. She was so nervous, she could sense how sweaty the hands were and how the heart was beating fast.

She was going to come back home and to postpone everything when she saw Hideki at the door of the gym.

«Y/N-chan, hello» Hideki walked closed, slouched as always with his tennis racket in one hand. He hadn’t no sweat on him despite the other athletes behind him were tired.

«H-Hideki-kun! Hi…how was the training today?» Y/N wanted to slap herself for the stutter when she greeted him.

«Quite boring, the others were not skilled as you or your brother» he smiled at her clearly moved by that sudden shyness from the second-born Yagami.

«Would you…would you go to the nearby cafeteria? I heard there's a special menu today»

«Gladly Y/N-chan»

And together they went to this new cafeteria near the To-Oh. However, the too much mushy aspect of the place made Y/N regret the offer she made to Hideki.

«Ah today is Valentine's Day…» Hideki said once inside the cafeteria, looking curiously around like a child inside a toy store: pink and red hearts everywhere –even sweets and candies had that shape-, a strawberry scent filled the air and on TV there was a famous musical.

The waiter asked if Y/N and Hideki were a couple and Y/N quickly said they were only friends. With a fast look, Y/N noticed that Hideki didn’t flinch at that statement. Maybe he really didn’t fell anything for her. A wave of sadness and disappointment hit her like a train and suddenly she started to hate that day.

Hideki and Y/N, once the waiter showed them a table, sat down they talked about many things: sport, University, school and about Kira too.

«What do you think of Kira, Y/N-chan?»

«Well…» she thought for a bit before answering. «It doesn’t matter how noble their ideals are, killing people is always a crime. So I hope this L will catch them»

«Yes, I hope it too»

The two of them were so much focused on their conversation that they didn’t notice someone recognised them from the shop window.

«Matsu look! Isn't that Ryuzaki?» Misa was looking at the shop window searching for something to buy for Light when she spotted a familiar black haired boy who was crouched on the chair instead of sitting.

Matsuda, who was with her according to L's orders, spied inside the cafeteria and he recognised not only Ryuzaki but Chief Yagami's daughter too. «That's Light's sister! So the famous "boy met at the gym" is Ryuzaki! I have to tell the Chief»

In that moment, Y/N grew nervous when she remembered the cake in her bag / small backpack. And Hideki must have noticed it.

«Are you alright, Y/N-chan?» his monotone voice distracted the young girl from her nervous thoughts.

«Well…actually no»

«Is something bothering you?»

«I…have something to tell you, Hideki» she shifted anxiously in the chair.

«What is it?» again, Hideki's emotionless voice didn’t suggest her what he was feeling. Had she to continue? Or was it better to end the "date" there?

Her shaking hands curled into fists, determination was clear in her E/C eyes. «If I tell you I… You know… Care about you… Would you laugh at me? I never felt so good around someone…for once I was not Light Yagami's sister or Chief Yagami's daughter. With you I can be just Y/N, a girl who clearly cannot even choose a proper place to confess, eh!» she chuckled at the last part, maybe her attempt to wash away her current nervous state.

Then she took a cute pastel purple box from the bag / small backpack and placed it on the table. «I made this…for you» she didn’t dare to look up at him, scared of his reaction.

Y/N heard he took the box and slowly he was opening it. Its contents were chocolate-covered cake balls that recalled tiny tennis balls. «Since I first saw you after a tennis match, I thought it would be nice doing something in memory of that day» she added shortly after, her gaze was still focused on her lap.

On the other hand, despite from outside he would appear calm and composed, L was panicking inside. He knew Y/N was going to confess, he knew what day was…so why that confession, those simple words hit him so hard?

"Internal check: sweaty hands, dry mouth, quickened heartbeat and…warm face. Wait…warm face?" L thought while observing the tiny cakes in front of him.

Yes, L was blushing and his brain was in tilt. Too many thoughts, too many emotions so suddenly. It floored him.

«But it seems…I imagined everything» Y/N broke the embarrassing silence that filled the air between them. Her voice cracked showing how much hurt she was. «Thank you for your time, Hideki-kun…and sorry» she stood up and bowed at him.

She was going to leave the cafeteria when a strong grip at her wrist stopped her. She turned and a tint of pink painted her cheeks, in front of her one of the cutest sight: a tomato-red Hideki who was looking away embarrassed.

«Excuse me, Y/N-chan, I have to say something against what you said earlier…»

«Uh?»

«I apologise if I didn’t reply to you but…hm…I don’t know the protocol for this kind of situations. Few moments ago I had so many thoughts in my mind but my mouth wasn’t able to formulate a proper phrase» L started to say, now it was his turn to be embarrassed, something so rare for him. «And about what you said before…I accept them. Your feelings, I mean. People like you are rare and precious…and since I always want the best, I want you by my side» he moved his dark eyes on her noticing she was even redder than him.

Y/N was staring at him in disbelief. Did she hear it right? He said…he accepted her feelings. She wasn’t dreaming, right?

«So…would you eat those sweets with me?» Hideki asked her and she nodded with a bright smile on her face.

At the same time, at the HQ, Matsuda informed Soichiro about what he saw at the cafeteria. At those words, Soichiro became gloomy and baffled.

«Ryuzaki is my daughter's boyfriend and my superior co-worker…this is even worse than I imagined»

Aizawa and Mogi were looking at him concerned. «Matsuda…you owe me 30.000¥» (A/N: something like 275$ USD with the actual exchange rate).

The young detective sighed defeated and gave the money to Aizawa.

«I knew I was right all along»

#death note #death note headcanons #l lawliet #l x reader #l x y/n #female reader #l x you #soichiro yagami #light yagami #death note fluff

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

A Good Man - Part 3

A/N: Hi friends, so I have a confession to make. I am a liar, a dirty, filthy liar because I said this would be 3 parts. Yeah, no, it’s gonna be more than that. I’m aiming for 5. But you never know apparently. So! Enjoy part 3 :) As always, comments and feedback is welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged let me know! xx

Pairing: Professor! Javi x Reader

Word Count: 7.4k (oops?)

Warnings: yearning, oh so much yearning; sm**ches

A GOOD MAN ‘VERSE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Opening the brightly colored box of tea, you held it up to your nose and let the warm citrus and spice notes overwhelm your senses. Humming softly in content, you pulled out one of the sachets and delicately placed it into your favorite teacup, figuring that only the best would do. You read the back of the box, finishing just as the kettle started whistling on the stove top.

Grabbing it, you filled up your cup and made sure the bag was fully submerged, debating on adding just a drop of honey, but quickly decided against it and put the little bear shaped container back into the cupboard. Picking the cup up, you were planning on high tailing it back to your room, to avoid any sort of questioning from Sarah. She would surely be home at any time now, and you wanted to avoid any confrontation.

"That's an impressive new collection of teas," her voice startled you so much that you almost sloshed the tea all over yourself. You had been so wrapped up in your preparation that you hadn't heard her come in at all...or she'd been extra quiet to try and catch you up to something, almost as if she could sense something was up.

"Yes," you gave her a dismissive look and made it a point to avoid her eyes as you tried to sweep past her.

You just knew she wouldn't let it go. No - that was not her style at all.

"These are all...uncommon," she commented and you swallowed the lump in your throat, "isn't that one tea shop in Austin the only place that sells this?"

"Huh, yeah, maybe so," you knew exactly where they were from. You'd paid the place a few visits yourself over the years; that's how you know the significance of the gift, "look, I've got a lot of homework to do, and this paper to finish up."

"When did you have time to go and get these?" you stopped dead in your tracks as you quickly tried to think of an excuse, a reason, somehow you could have gotten the teas without her knowing. And she knew damn well that you had been home all weekend, working away on various projects and your paper for Javier's class that you were determined to make perfect.

"It was a delivery," it was a quick lie, the first one that came to mind. You turned around and gave her a nonchalant shrug, "it was here when I got home a little bit ago. My mom sent them over, thought it was a nice treat."

"Your mom stopped over in Austin and sent them to you?" she could tell you were getting close to snapping, but was going to keep pushing and pushing until you broke, or she dragged the truth out of you, "and wrapped them with a ribbon? Where's the shipping box?"

"I threw it out already..."

Her hands were on her hips as she stared you down with a cocked eyebrow, your name rolling off of her tongue in an accusatory tone, "where did you get the teas?"

"Sarah, stop," you tried to be firm; resolute. Instead it sounded more like a plea than anything else, "it's nothing."

"If it's nothing, then tell me where you got these," her ocean gaze was searing as you let out a long breath and bowed your head slightly.

"Javi," you finally admitted, letting his nickname hang in the air for a few long, pregnant pauses, "they're from Javi."

"Holy shit," she said after a few moments, but all you could do was nod as you stared at your feet. It didn't sound so...normal when it was finally out in the air. Maybe you had both overstepped your boundaries. But, even if you did, you couldn't really find it in your heart to care, "he really likes you. Or he's got absolutely way too much free time on his hands."

"Should I not have accepted?" you felt silly, almost like a child getting scolded for doing something naughty. But you were both consenting adults, and neither of you had technically done anything wrong, "h-he had it waiting for me at my desk. I didn't know what else to do."

After the class had ended, and you'd spent the lecture basically staring at Javi and vice versa, you'd been determined to go and speak to him. But instead, your nerves had only increased as the time went on and you weren't even sure what to say, where to begin. Instead, you hastily packed up your bag and left along with everyone else, keeping yourself hidden in the zombie horde of other students. You'd felt guilty about it since, and hoped Javier wouldn't take offense...maybe he'd just think you had somewhere else to be right away.

"No, no, no babes," Sarah could practically hear the gears turning in your head as you thought of every negative outcome, every bad possibility, "that's not what I meant. I just meant that...obviously, there’s something to this all. Think about it - you don't just go out of your way like to keep up something special for someone you don't give a shit about. You know?"

"Yeah," you agreed as you set the cup down on the counter and ran a hand through your hair, "I know. It's just...I feel like that I like him...as more than a professor. Its definitely a crush, and I still barely know the man, but..."

"But you want to," she easily concluded as you groaned and threw your head back, staring at the ceiling as if you were begging it for answers, "there’s nothing wrong with that. You're just two people who happened to meet a certain way. Imagine if he was man that you'd met out one day, like a bookshop or while getting a coffee. You wouldn't be having reservations then, would you?"

"Most likely not."

"Then think of it that way," she insisted, stealing your cup and taking a sip of the sweet tea. She instantly made a face that suggested it was delicious, "just because he's a professor-"

"My professor!"

"Doesn't mean it has to be weird," she insisted, "in a few months he won't be your professor any more, and by the end of the school year you won't be a student anymore. Think of it like that."

"What if, and this is a big if, something were to happen between us, then what? He could lose his job," you couldn't think of doing that to him, no matter how much he didn't care about the position. It would never sit right with you, "I'm not...going to do that."

"Babes, nothing is going to happen," Sarah promised as she pushed the tea back towards you, "you don't even know his true feelings yet, although I believe my suspicions are correct. Talk to him, and see where it goes."

"I wish it was that simple," you took the mug and finally tasted the tea for yourself. It was divine; you wondered how carefully he'd chosen this particular kind, "I feel like I'm over complicating things."

"You are," she gently tapped your head and caused you both to laugh, "a classic over thinker...next time you see him, just go and talk to him. Everything will be fine."

"I could just call him," you murmured under your breath, more to yourself than anything else, but Sarah much have had supersonic hearing because her mouth had just about fallen to the floor.

"Excuse me?!"

"He...he gave me his number," your cheeks were surely a brilliant shade of crimson by now, feeling hotter than ever, "when I went to see him last week. He told me to call him if I needed help with my paper."

"Help with your...oh hell no," she was almost jumping with excitement at the revelation, "he totally didn't give you his number so you could call if you needed help. We all know exactly why he did it."

"Ummm...." you were at a loss for words, staring at the tea and the playing with the string attached to the sachet, "I guess not."

"Call him," she insisted firmly, "call him."

"Yeah?" you asked and she fervently nodded, her curls bouncing wildly. You bit the inside of your cheek as you slid off the stool and grabbed the tea, "maybe I will. But do not, and I mean this, do not listen in."

"Scout's honor," she gave you the three finger salute as you marched off to your bedroom, practically shaking with nerves at the possibility of calling Javier. Before you could close your bedroom door you heard her shout, "good luck!"

You could do this. You totally could. No if, ands, or buts about it. It was just going to be a friendly conversation ti thank him for the more than generous gift he had given. Right? Right.

Then why did you feel so damn nervous?

Your hands were practically shaking as you sat at your desk, pulling the phone towards you. Catching your reflection in the window, you let out a sigh at yourself and how panicked you looked, almost like a little deer caught in headlights. It was dark already, a small rainstorm had started earlier; the perfect environment for a cup of tea.

Picking up the receiver, you dialed Javier's number; you were almost embarrassed that you had it memorized it already, having repeated it to yourself so many times over the weekend. Pathetic, you bemoaned yourself, a pathetic girl with a silly little crush.

Once you dialed the number, you held the phone close to your ear waiting for baited breath to see if he would even answer. Maybe he didn't answer calls from unknown numbers. Maybe it could go to his voicemail. Would you even leave a voicemail? Should you? Should you have called from a blocked number? There were so many things spewing through your mind.

It rang and rang, seemingly endlessly, by just before you were about to hang up and let it go, he answered. His voice was still as warm and rich over the phone as it was in real life and a pleasant shiver ran down your spine as you listened to him say, "hello?"

"J-Javi? It's me," you said in almost a rush as you realized that he might not realize who me was. You sighed quietly as you said your name, wondering if you should cut your losses and hang up already.

"Hey," he seemed to relax slightly when he realized it was you, "how are you? Everything's okay, right?"

You tried not to grin from ear to ear at his question, mentally calming yourself down, "yeah, Javi, everything's fine. I just...wanted to thank you. For the tea. Its wonderful, truly, and I can only imagine the trouble you must have gone through to get it. I appreciate it, I'm drinking one actually, the citrus spice one, and its delicious."

"It was nothing," he promised but for some reason you couldn't help but think it was a lot more then that. It definitely was; if only you could have seen his face when he'd heard you say his name, "I just wanted to thank you."

"Whatever for?"

"Being the one student I've had in three years that gives a damn about the class," he said and you couldn't hold back your laugh. He liked that sound - he liked it a lot, "you don't know what it's like to go through this same bullshit all the time. Its nice to get a break from the routine, the norm."

"Thank you for helping me," it was weak trade off, but you were happy to give it to him. You were happy to listen to that warm, rich timbre any time, to watch those honeyed, syrupy eyes any time, "I appreciate you giving me your time. And I'm sorry for running out the way I did earlier.”

"Why?" he asked softly as he waited for your response with baited breath. He desperately hoped that he hadn’t scared you off for whatever reason, or come on too strongly, "why did you leave?"

"I wish I had a good answer for you," you cradled the receiver between your shoulder and ear, nervously twisting the cord between your fingers, "I got nervous. So I just left...I just...it wasn't you, or anything."

"Do I make you nervous?" Javi sounded almost...nervous himself. Worried? There was a quality to it that you hadn't heard before.

"No, not really," you admitted. It wasn’t Javi himself that made you nervous or anxious, it was all the ideas or possibilities or what could, of what this could turn into. You just hoped that you weren't about to make a fool out of yourself. How were you supposed to face the rest of the semester if you were completely wrong about this? You squeezed your eyes shut as you mulled over your next words carefully, trying to figure out what to say, "its just...I hope I'm not reading this wrong. Or making something out of nothing."

There was a sharp inhale of breath on the other side and you could just picture him, sitting at home, frustrated looked on his face. After a few moments of tense silence, you heard him again, "what do you think this is? What do you what it to be?"

"Javi..." you let his name hang in the air, trying to get your point across without needing to expand. Letting out a shaky breath you thought about just hanging up then and there. But no. You were already in too deep, "I...don't want to be just your student."

There was a tangible shift between the two of you as the air remained silent for some time. All you heard was a few shaky breathes on his end. You wished, desperately so, that you could see what was going on in his mind. Little did you know, Javier was sitting there, his stack of papers now long forgotten as he tried to retain his composure. He ran a hand over his tired face, almost wishing he hadn't asked, almost wishing you hasn't told him what he wanted to hear. This wasn't part of his plan. This wasn't how he was supposed to be a good man.

"Javi?" just when you couldn't handle the still, tension feeling hanging in the air, his name came out almost like a pathetic whimper.

"Are you free this weekend?" he blurted the question, not letting himself linger too much on it before he changed his mind, "maybe we could go and get a tea?"

A blush blossomed in your cheeks at his question, your stomach erupting in butterflies at the sheer concept of spending time with him outside of school. You realized you were nodding silently, before finding the proper words, "I'm free this weekend. I'd like that...a lot. Maybe we can even settle and get a coffee instead."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you almost whispered into the phone. Your voice was so soft and quiet that almost weren’t sure anything came out. But then you heard a soft sigh, almost like a relieved breath on the other side.

"Great," he couldn't believe that this was happening, couldn't believe that he was getting nervous over all of this, like a schoolboy. He’s been out with countless women in the past, seemingly nothing phased him, but here he was, genuinely terrified, but excited at the prospect of what could be. He bit his bottom lip before deciding to make sure his intentions were crystal clear, "then it's a date..."

"Yeah," you agreed, begging yourself not to sound too eager or excited, “it’s a date. How about Saturday around one? I can meet you at the old cafe near the other side of town? I forget the name, but it’s the only decent one in town and they’ve got pretty good coffee.”

“You’re sure you don’t want the tea?” he joked and you felt some of the tension and nerves subside. This would be fine, everything would be.

“Positive,” you promised, “we’ll get tea next time.”

Your promise of a next time, that you were confident enough to think this could go somewhere was enough to make him realize that maybe this wasn’t a horrible decision after all, “how does that sound?”

“I’ll see you then,” you twist the cord of the phone so tightly, trying not to completely freak out. You had a date with Javier Pena. Granted, it was only an afternoon meet up for coffee, but a date was a date, and he’d confirmed it, “have a good night, Javi.”

“You too,” how was his voice this dreamy? You could listen to it for hours and hours, even if he would have been recited the phone book to you. Hell, you practically did that in his class every week anyways. You couldn’t wait to hear it, with no restraints, no pressures from being in your roles as teacher and student. To get to see him, just him, as he was, “good night.”

Slowly, almost reluctantly, you put the receiver back in its cradle, leaned back and staring at the ceiling. Holy shit. You had actually just agreed to a date...with your professor.

Before you could actually think too much about it, your bedroom door slammed open and Sarah burst in, ambushing you from behind and you squealing into your ear. Your face warmed up as you realized that she already knew.

“Sarah!” you moaned at her, trying to hide your face out of pure embarrassment, “I told you not to listen in on my call!”

“I didn’t listen to your call,” she insisted, “I just sat outside your door and listened to your end of the conversation. That’s not technically listening in on the call, because I didn’t hear his end of the conversation.”

“Of course,” you playfully nudged her, “you would find the one loophole.”

“What can I say?” she seemed very proud of herself indeed, “I’m a pro. But you! Can you believe? A date with a hot professor. What a dream!”

“Please,” you grabbed her arm and looked at her with wide eyes, “don’t so much as breath a word of this to anyone. I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea or anything.”

“I would never,” she promised, “your secret is safe with me, babes. But, I will expect a full report after your date.”

“Maybe...”

“I’m your best friend!” she pouted, “it’s girl code, practically the law!”

“We’ll see...”

“You can’t bone the hottest professor on campus and not tell me!”

“SARAH.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Javier," Chucho shook his head at his son, watching as sweat dripped off of his face and neck. Javier spared him a quick glance, finishing up the fence post he was working on before wiping the sweat from his brow and catching his breath. He'd been helping his father to fix up his fence all afternoon, virtually wordless, but glad to be at his father's ranch again. Stevie had been ecstatic to come along, running around all afternoon and studying the various animals around the ranch and trying to play with them.

Javi had the day off, a rare occurrence these days, and decided to make the most of it, leaving early in the morning to make the several hour drive to Laredo. It had been some time since he'd seen his father, and he'd been itching to spend some time with him. He was completely breaking through every other one of his normal routines, why not do this as well? Despite being a man long grown, he still often turned to his father for his advice, and general comfort when be really he needed.

"What's up, Pops?" his hands went to his hips as Chucho came over and offered him a cold bottle of water.

"You've been working out here all day, barely said a word," he noted and Javi shrugged at his father's concern laced with all sorts of silent accusations, "are you going to come in and talk to me, mijo? Or are you just going to stay out here for the rest of evening?"

"I don't know what you're talking about papá," he wasn't even sure why he was lying to his father. He could read him like a book, almost better than anyone else. Chucho raised an eyebrow at him but shook his head, turning to go back inside. He beckoned for Javier to follow, which he begrudgingly did, feeling like he was a small boy again, about to be scolded for something or other.

"I made tamales," a little spring suddenly appeared in his step at the thought. He never bothered to cook extravagant meals or anything fancy for himself, so he was always glad to come home and get a warm, delicious meal, "your mama's recipe."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Javi piled his plate high with the delicious foods, gratefully accepting a cold beer from Chucho as he sat across the table from him. Before he could even get the first bite into his mouth before being interrupted.

"So, mijo, what's on your mind?" Javi groaned inwardly as he set his fork back down. He clasped his hands and rested his chin on them as he tried to figure how, and what, to tell him.

"Can't I just want to come and see you, papá,?" he asked with a noncommittal shrug as Chucho's brown eyed gaze remained fixated on him.

"Absolutely, you're always welcome," he answered, "but I am your father. I've known you since birth. I know when you've got something on your mind. Que pasa?"

"Papá,," he shoved a huge bite into his mouth and chewed on it, mulling over his words, "I'm just...I guess...thinking about things a lot lately."

"Colombia?"

"Sí," he swallowed his mouthful and slumped slightly in his seat, "there are times when it still hits me. At night, more than anything. I just can't help but think I could have done it all so much better. Cleaner. Less blood on my hands."

"What you did wasn't easy, mijo, it was never going to be," his tone was softer but Javier refused to acknowledge it. He'd gotten this speech at least ten times before from his father, and countless times from others, but it never made him feel better, "you did your best, you know that everyone knows that."

"I just can't help but think that things could have turned out differently," the image of Horacio Carillo killing the young boy, and countless others, without hesitation, directly in front of him were a frequent theme in his darkest dreams, "all those innocent lives that were wasted...when we were taking out Calí cartel, the wife of Franklin Jurado, you remember him right, she called me a piece of shit. She meant it, I could hear it in her voice. Sometimes I think she was right."

"You are not a piece of shit, Javier," Chucho insisted firmly, almost slamming his fist down on the table. He hated knowing that this was still plaguing his son, "you are a good man. You've done a lot of good for a lot of people. The work you did was good."

Javier scoffed at him at him as he just shook his head. He tried to be a good man, lord knows he was trying. But lately he was wondering how well he was doing that in the department, "it was a load of shit. We brought down Escobar and Calí for what? Just for more scumbags to come out and stake their claim? To show just how fucking corrupt our government and those in Colombia are? To show that that everything is completely fucked up and nothing will ever change? Yeah, I did that. It was good for a little while, soon it'll all go back to normal and nothing we ever did will matter."

"Javier," his head almost whipped up at the sound of his name, coming out so sharply from his father's mouth, "you didn't know better at the time, neither did Steve, or those two young ones you worked with in Calí. You did what you had to at the time. If you had known any different at the time, you would have it differently. You're a good man, Javi, you've always been a good boy mijito."

"I wish I could I see it that way," he took another bite, trying to get his father's words into his mind. He knew he was true, that he did his best with what he knew at the time. He always thought that the end justified the means, that sometimes in order to catch bad men you had to do bad things. But at the end of it all, he wondered if it all had been worth it. It had to be right? He had made a difference, he wanted to believe that his work wasn't for naught, "sometimes I wonder."

"Tell me, if you had know there was a different way to do things, would you have done it?"

"Of course," he nodded, taking a long drag from his beer as he wiped at his brow, "I would do whatever was best."

"Exactly," Chucho wished he could get his son to see him in the same light he saw him in. But he was hard, and he knew he could never truly know the full extent of Javier's inner torment, "there is no use ruminating on things that are in the past. You cannot change them now. You shouldn't dwell on things that are done. Your path is not behind you, it is in front of you."

"Lo sé," he agreed, finishing up the tamales on his plate and downing the rest of his beer. Even if he had a hard time believing what was he saying, it made him feel even minutely better, "it's just hard sometimes, you know?"

"I do," he agreed, "now tell, what else is on your mind? And don't tell me it's nothing, either."

Javi got up and grabbed his plate, bringing to the kitchen, rinsing it as he sat it down in the sink. He leaned against the counter as he contemplated getting himself another beer, but opted against it.

"I think..." gods, he felt like nothing more than an anxious child at this point, drumming his fingers along the aging counter top, "there's, well...I might have met someone."

"Oh?" this time Chucho almost gave himself whiplash as Javier refused to meet his eyes, instead focusing his attention on the floor, "a woman?"

"Sí," he answered.

"That's wonderful, mijo," the older man stood up and brought his own plate to the sink, and stood across from Javi. He put his hand on his shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze, "you deserve someone special. Especially after you'll been through. It would be nice to know that you have someone looking out for you."

"It's a little more complicated than that, papá," he'd already told him so much, he figured that he could probably just go on and tell him the whole truth. Nothing bad would come of...or at least he hoped it wouldn't.

"Please tell me she's not married..."

"No-"

"Is she pregnant?"

"No-"

"Then what's the problem, mijo?" Javier swallowed the nervous lump in his throat as he looked up and met the gaze of those wise, dark eyes.

"She's a student," he admitted, waiting for his father to yell at him, to freak out, or something. But instead, nothing came. Only a few moments of silence as Chucho waited for him to expand, "she's in one of my classes."

"What's the problem with that?"

"She's my student...she's younger..." he shrugged his shoulders, "it just feels off, I don't know."

"She's an adult, right?" he asked as Javier nodded, adding that she was a senior, "then what is the big deal? You're both consenting adults. Then there's nothing wrong with it. If you like her, Javi, and you think she's good for you, then go for it. Just keep a level head and do what's right. You know what to do son, your mama and I raised you right."

"You don't think I'm a horrible person for being interested in a student?"

"You're not the first and you won't be the last," he stated with a laugh, "what if you had met her at the grocery store or something? Would you be experiencing this hesitation then?"

"No...not nearly as much anyway," he admitted. The age different might still have bugged him slightly, but he knew he could get over that, "I just don't want it to seem like I'm taking advantage of her because of my position or anything."

"She sounds like a smart girl-"

"How do you know?"

"She's interested in you, right?"

Javier snorted with laughter as light flush of color rose up in his golden cheeks. Leave it to his dad to be his best friend and biggest supporter. They'd butted heads numerous times over the years, but at the end of the day, Javier loved his father most of all.

"You've got a good head on your shoulders, son," he promised, giving him a gently nudge, "just be smart and make good choices. You always do."

"Papá," Javier let a small sigh as a smile worked it's way on his face, "gracias por todo."

»»————-　♡　————-««

You sat up, bolt right, trying to catch your breath, feeling impossibly hot, despite the chilly morning. Once you realized you were awake and in your own bedroom, you laid back down and staring at the ceiling. You'd just woken up from a dream starring Professor Peña and yourself in a very compromising situation; naturally though, your mind hadn't let you get to the best part, stopping just before you managed to get him stripped of clothing.

Groaning, you rolled over and glanced at your alarm, seeing that it was still much earlier than you would have liked.

Saturday morning had rolled around much sooner than you had expected, and your stomach was in absolute knots. Maybe you could still back out now?

But no - you wanted to do this. You wanted to see Javi.

Instead of talking yourself down, you slid your legs out of the bed and decided to spend the morning relaxing and taking the time to get ready and treating yourself to some much needed relaxation. You spied the outfit you had picked out the night before hanging from the back of your closet. You wondered if it was too much, or not enough...

It was a simple floral shift dress that you planned on pairing with a pair of your favorite chucks. It was still just warm enough it sport, despite being almost fall and you vowed to take advantage of the weather for as long as you could. The dress was innocent enough, bordering on too short and maybe slightly lower cut than it needed to be, but you liked it, and you hoped he would too. Not that it mattered...but still...the idea was nice.

Before changing your mind, or thinking too much about your decisions, you stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower, letting it get hot before jumping in and scrubbing yourself from head to toe. You just want everything to go well. This was really important to you for some reason or another.

»»————-　♡　————-««

When you arrived at the cafe, you were early, despite your best efforts not to be early. You hadn’t wanted to appear too eager, but your nerves had gotten the better of you, and found yourself out the door earlier than expected. You’d even walked, making the decent trek to the other part of town, hoping it would kill more time, but apparently there had been too much spring in your step, and you’d arrived with some time to kill. Instead of ordering your drink already, you’d walked to the back of the cozy cafe, sitting at a small table and pulling out the book you were currently reading - you always keep one in your bag for situations exactly like this. The weather had slowly shifted, and it now looked like it was about to rain; you cursed yourself for walking, but the euphoria of the moment really won over.

You sighed lightly as you looked around, watching all sorts of different milling about, going about their days. It was calm here, quiet and cozy, just like you preferred. Turning your attention back to your books, you attempting to read the page you had last ended on...but it was proving to be a challenge, and you ended rereading the same sentence about ten times before finally getting the gist of it and moving on.

You weren’t alone long however, but had gotten absorbed enough into the book that you hadn’t noticed Javier appear across the table from you. He reached over and gently tapped the spine of your book, captured your attention and startling you slightly. He had a smile grin on his face as he watched your eyes widen in surprise, quickly closing the book and slipping it back into your bag.

“Hi,” your voice was but a mere, breathy whisper as you tried your best not to let your cheeks flush too much, “I-I hope you weren’t trying to get my attention for too long. I didn’t even think my book was that interesting!”

“I just got here,” he admitted as he studied you, his dark eyes taking everything in, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary on your chest, something you didn’t think was too intentional. He looked good, more casual than when he was teaching but still almost unfairly handsome. He was sporting a pair of jeans that hugged him in the all the right places, accentuated nicely by the black button up with the rolled up sleeves. He wasn’t wearing glasses today, but he still looked....so good, “how long have you been here?”

“A little while,” you said sheepishly, “I got here a little early. I wasn’t waiting too long.”

“Good,” he jerked his head towards the counter, “come on - let’s go and order. You look very pretty.”

“I, ugh,” you were instantly stammering over your words, trying to remain cool and composed. Instead you found yourself spewing out, “you too.”

“You think I look pretty?” he teased, and half of you expected to be embarrassed, but instead you just rolled your eyes at him and gently shoved his shoulder.

“You know what I meant,” you bemoaned him, as he laughed and nudged you towards the counter. The woman behind the counter glanced at the two of you for just a moment, eyes flicking between you and Javier before settling on him, and zoning in on him. You had no doubt her thoughts were immediately all consumed by him. You wanted to roll your eyes at her and her obvious attempted to capture his attention, but stopped yourself. He must get this all time; but if he did, he didn’t let it phase him, keeping his gaze trained on you instead.

“What are you having?” she grabbed a pen to take your order, making the most obvious eyes at Javier, who just ignored and put his hand on the small of your back.

“I’ll just have a black coffee, a little bit of sugar,” he told her before looking at you, attempting to guess your order, “and she’ll have a coffee with cream and sugar.”

You looked up and shook your head lightly, “close, very close. An iced coffee with extra cream and raw sugar.”

“I was almost there,” he insisted as he reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. You attempted to grab his hand to stop him, but he moved slightly out of your reach, shaking his head at you, and you decided not to argue with him, “I’ll have it right next time.”

Next time. You really liked the sound of that.

“Whatever you say, Javi,” you said in a sing-song voice as he handed the woman behind a twenty dollar bill and told her to keep the change. He followed you over to the pick up counter.

“Extra cream?” he said as he watched your coffee being made. You stuck out your tongue and shrugged at him, “so you’re drinking some coffee with your milk, huh? And iced? Dios mio, you might as well stick to tea at this rate. This was not how coffee was intended to be consumed.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at his mock tirade, watching his face shift through various expressions before your coffees were placed in front of you. Grabbing yours, you took a long sip and ended with an exaggerated ahh, “delicious. Better than that bitter bean water you’re drinking. Black? Do you hate yourself that much?”

“Not as much as you apparently hate yourself for drinking that poor excuse of a coffee. They would have roasted you in Colombia for that,” the last part slipped out before he could help, and he stiffened slightly, but you instantly relaxed when he noticed that you weren’t hung up on anything. You weren’t going to push him to talk about anything he didn’t want to; you’d already made that up in your mind a while ago

“That was a horrible joke,” you laughed as you slid back into your seat, and he took his place across from you. It was a small and intimate, a fireplace going somewhere near by, casting a light glow around the space and chasing away the chill from the cold, early fall day, “they would have roasted me? You should stick with your day job. And I’ll stick with my tea. I make a coffee exception once in a while, like today.”

“I don’t know how you do tea all the time,” he sighed dramatically, “I’ve been drinking that matcha I got in the mornings, but it’s just not the same.”

“You got matcha?” your eyes widened as you realized he’d taken your suggestion to heart. He took a long sip from his coffee and nodded, “it’s good though, right? Most tea is, just different from coffee. All the ones you got me are delicious...thank you for them, really. It’s such a thoughtful thing.”

“It was nothing,” he insisted, smiling so brightly that his dimple was on full display, “but I am glad you like them.”

“You should...try them sometime,” were you pushing the envelope too much? Did you really care? No, not really, “I-I have plenty, if you’re ever interested.”

“I’d be interested,” he said with a glint in his dark eyes, “I’d be very interested.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Being with Javi was easy; fun to the point where you almost never felt awkward, fun to the point where you were almost laughing the entire time, not questioning if whatever you had said was dumb or too much. He was kind, much more open and relaxed than he ever appeared in the classroom, asking you all shorts of questions about yourself, and answering whatever you wanted to know about him. Within reason. You hadn’t really broached the subject of his time with the DEA in Colombia, and while you were naturally curious, you figured if he wanted to tell you, he would.

But it didn’t deter from the lovely afternoon you were having. He was animated, using his hands as he talked, his dark eyes expressive and lively. You liked him, how normal and easy this all seemed. You only hoped that he felt the same way about you. Little did you know that he did; he liked you very, very much. He loved how passionate you got when you talked about things you liked, how you had a habit of tapping your chin when you were searching for a word or an answer, how your eyes crinkled in the corners when you laughed, how you leaned in closer to him, listening to him and making him feel you truly cared about what he had to say.

When he realized just how much he liked your smile, he knew he was fucked. So fucked. But then again - so were you.

The day had quickly turned to evening, and it was almost completely pitch back outside. You cursed yourself for deciding to walk, knowing it would be horrible to get home. But as soon as Javier realized that you didn’t have your car, he insisted on driving you back to your apartment. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer; and frankly, you would have been loath to turn down his offer because you wanted to spend as much time with him as possible.

You gave him directions, he deemed you the worst copilot ever as you were horrible with directions, but eventually he found your place and pulled up front, turning off the car while the two of you remained in silence for a few minutes, neither of you wanting your time together to end.

“Well,” you said finally, avoiding his eyes as you moved to open the car door, “I guess I better get going.”

“I can walk you inside,” it wasn’t a question, more like a subtle plea. Shifting in your seat, you found him watching you with a hopeful expression etched on his features. Biting your lip, something that Javier had noticed you had a tendency to do, you almost drove him crazy. If only you could see how beautiful you were. Nodding, you opened the door and stepped out, waiting for him to come to your side before walking in the direction of your apartment.

Deliberately making each step as slow as possible, you could feel how warm he was as he walked alongside you. When you reached your front door, you sighed lightly, “well, this is me. Thank you for today...I had a really good time.”

“I did too,” he said gently, his eyes softer than you had ever seen him. You wished there was a way to convey to him just how much, how terribly much you had enjoyed his company, and how reluctant you were to say good night.

You watched each other for a few moments, feeling your heart race as neither of you made any move to leave. But then - suddenly - before you could fully process what was happening, Javier put his hand on either side of your face and crashed his lips onto yours, kissing you with intensity, a searing passion that you took your breath away. You wrapped your arms around his neck, carding a hand through his dark locks as his hands found purchase on your waist and pulled you close.

His touch, his taste, his smell, everything combined in a way so delightful that you’d never experienced before; surely this was what sheer bliss was like. He felt perfect against you, there was no fumbling awkwardness, instead it felt like the two of you had been doing this forever. He break apart from you only when you were thoroughly breathless, feeling drunk off his kisses.

Javier studied your face, your eyes wide and lightly swollen lips as he wondered if he’d just made a huge mistake. A million thoughts were running through his mind as he tried not to panic, and reminded him that surely, he couldn’t have read the signs all wrong. But when your expression slowly turned into a shy little smile, a warmth heating up your skin as you looked at him with the sweetest eyes, he knew he hadn’t made a mistake. He reached over you and brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face.

“Umm,” you breathed out as you rode out the euphoria of the best kiss you’d ever had, “I...wow. Javi...I had a great time today.”

“Me too,” he agreed, already beginning to miss the feel of your lips against his. He let out a small laugh, almost not believing his luck as he shoved his hands into his pockets, “I hope you have a good night, dulzura.”

“Good night, Javi,” you beamed at him as he slowly turned around to head back to his car, watching until he was just to make sure he was safe...and to admire the view of course. He gave you one last wave before you unlocked the door and stepped inside, leaning against the door and trying to calm yourself down. Despite your best efforts, a small squeal of delight pass through your lips. Bringing a hand to your lips and tapping your fingertips along them, you could tell they were plump and plush from all of his kisses.

Holy shit. This had actually happened. This was all a reality.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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