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barcaatthemoon · 3 days

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my hero ii || lucy bronze x teen!reader ||

lucy begins to make it up to you.

lucy felt awful. it was obvious to everybody just how guilty lucy was feeling after blowing up at you. the team had all sided with you one way or another reminding lucy that she owed it to you to fix this. she knew that she had to, even if the team wasn't breathing down her neck to do something quickly.

you had genuinely been a very positive person in lucy's life. she had never really paid much direct attention to you, but she had noticed a lot of the things you had done to impress her. lucy wished that she could take her behavior back and coddle you, but she hadn't wanted to egg the girls on about your crush or accidentally send you the wrong message.

going too far in the other direction hadn't been the right move though. you should have been elated to have lucy's attention after trying so hard for so long in vain, but you didn't want it. you didn't want it in the gym when she asked you to spot her. you didn't want it at practice when she picked you for her team. you didn't even want it whenever you had gone down in a game against seville.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry," the player who had knocked into you apologized profusely. that didn't matter as lucy shoved her away, taking your hand in hers as she knelt down next to you.

"get away from me, bronze," you said through grit teeth. you had been on the verge of tears, but you held it in once you noticed lucy's presence near you. her words had rattled you to your core, and you wouldn't be able to put them past you for a long time. that was why, despite how nice lucy's comfort was, you tried your hardest to push yourself away from it.

"i know that i haven't earned it yet, but don't push me away. don't try to handle this yourself, it never works, trust me," lucy said. she sat herself right next to you and wrapped her arm around your shoulders. it was awkward, and for the first time in a while, lucy realized that you were physically a lot bigger than her. "i'm not going to ask you what hurts because enough people are about to do that. where did you get that bracelet?"

"vicky and i made them at alexia's when everybody else went to the club. ingrid and mapi have the ones that i made them," you told her. lucy smiled as her distraction seemed to be working. she kept talking to you while the medics moved you onto a stretcher. "ingrid is going to come on for you. i know that you don't want me back there, so ona and alexia are going with you."

"thanks bronze," you said as formally as you could. you were taken completely off, both ona and alexia following you back. the tears flowed freely in their company, but neither woman mentioned it.

"i noticed that you and lucy were talking for a while," ona said hopefully. you knew what she wanted to hear, but a quick shake of your head put those hopes to rest. "pequena, i am not telling you to do anything, but please consider giving lucy another chance."

"i can't ona. i look at her and all i can hear are those stupid words that she said to me. every move i make is affected by them," you told her. it was tough to admit that you were still struggling with overcoming the insults that lucy had hurled your way. she had been your hero once, and you couldn't imagine doing that to anybody who you knew looked up to you. "i don't want to talk about this anymore, not with you or anybody else."

"understood. ona, will you bring this to jona please," alexia said. she handed the envelope with the medical team's official diagnosis after your scans and tests. ona nodded and walked away, leaving you all alone with alexia.

"that meant you too," you grumbled as alexia moved to stand in front of you. she placed her hands on your shoulders, forcing you to sit still and face her.

"i won't make you talk about how lucy made you feel right now. i want to know how you feel about your injury. it's your first one, and you're really starting off strong," alexia said. there was a bit of a teasing lilt to her voice, one that helped you to relax. you would have been going crazy thinking about being out as long as you were supposed to be for the dislocated hip.

"i feel like i'm one wrong move away from the nursing home," you joked. alexia smiled as she pulled you in for a hug. somehow, she knew the joke was a deflection. unfortuantely for you, you couldn't stop the tears once they had begun. you let out a lot more than you meant to as you clung to alexia. "can i still sit in at practice?"

"of course you can, we'd all miss you too much otherwise."

…

lucy tweaks her knee at the very next practice. you can tell that she had done something to it before that by the look most of the other girls give her. the curiosity is killing you, so you hobble your way down to the physio rooms while lucy is stuck icing her knee.

"both of us know that you can take a hit like that and run it off. what did you do on the team's night out?" you carefully lowered yourself into a chair. it was close enough to maintain a conversation with lucy, but far away enough that you didn't feel trapped.

"i can't tell you that, no way," lucy said. you furrowed your eyebrows as you stared at her. it was something that you had learned from alexia, but unfortunately for you, despite your intimidating size, lucy just saw you as a little kid. "you're the team baby, ona and alexia would kill me. it's nothing personal."

"i am not a baby!" you raised your voice at lucy as your stare grew a little bit more intense.

"you're right, and i am sorry for saying that (y/n). i'm sorry for ignoring you because of a few stupid jokes, and i am so sorry for yelling at you like that. c-can i explain myself?" lucy asked you.

"if you tell me what you did first." lucy huffed as she adjusted herself on the medical bench.

"fine, i tweaked my knee in bed with ona. she saw something and wanted to try it. remember to always stretch before any physical activity, not that you'll be doing any of that any time soon," lucy said. you could hear the jovial tone of her warning, which was the only reason you didn't get onto her for babying you.

"gross, now you can explain yourself." you had let out a little gag, one that made both of you chuckle a bit.

"i got scared when we collided. it was my fault, and i didn't expect you to be so solid. i though that i had really hurt myself for a moment, and every bit of frustration came bubbling up. my knees, they've been getting worse and worse."

"yeah, i've noticed," you muttered under your breath. "is it going to happen with my hips since i've dislocated them so young?"

"if you rest and let them heal properly, it won't be nearly as bad. i've always been an impulsive shit. don't tell the team that i've told you this, but find yourself someone like keira. if it wasn't for her looking out for me, i would have had to retire by now," lucy said. she didn't like to admit her faults, but lucy had never been good at resting. she didn't want to see you in the kind of pain that she felt some days, it broke her heart to think that she had even caused you any pain in the first place.

"can i trust you to keep a secret?" you asked. lucy nodded, sitting forward for a bit of gossip. "there is a girl, we met at national camp for the u-17s. she, uh, she plays for athletico madrid's b-team."

"do you want me to get out of your hair so that you can call her?" lucy offered. you shook your head, already having texted her. "does anybody else know?"

"no, my parents have been taking me to see her," you said shyly. you had wanted to tell many of the girls on the team, but for some reason, you went straight to lucy. you definitely weren't ready to completely forgive her, but you did notice a change in the way that she was treating you.

…

your first game back saw you put in a position that you'd never tried before, right back. lucy was benched after a knee surgery, and at first, you had been terrified about taking her spot. you had nearly begged someone else to ask for it instead, but jona and the rest of the team believed that it was perfect for you.

"this game will be a bit rough, vale?" alexia was even more nervous for your comeback than you were. el classico matches were rough, and you were fresh off of a pretty bad injury. still, you were prepared for this. those girls weren't going to know what hit them as they came your way.

"trust me, they're more likely to hurt themselves than her," lucy said as she put her arm around your shoulders. you were about to send her a glare when you stopped yourself. the two of you had gotten a lot closer working on your recoveries together. lucy had learned the things that you had wanted from her in the first place. she was happy to give praise where it was deserved.

"yeah ale, i've been hitting the gym," you said with a dramatic flex of your arms. alexia smacked the back of your head, but left you alone. "guess i should get out there."

"yeah, you go out there and show that madrid crowd the future best rightback in the world," lucy said. she ruffled your hair a little and shoved you away.

you left your heart and soul out there on the pitch. madrid didn't have a lot of opportunities, especially ocne they realized that they couldn't just barrel through the new player. you had a lot of help from your backline, and a very protective alexia who nearly got herself thrown out of the game. all in all, you were more than happy with your debut in your new position, even if a part of you wished that lucy had been next to you on the field.

"come on, you've got an interview." claudia tugged you away excitedly. you stumbled a little as you were led in front of a camera. rapid questions were shot at you about the game, and you struggled to keep up. your brain was exhausted, but you kept going because that was what you had to do.

"you said once that you grew up a soccer fan. who was your biggest influence?" you glanced into the stands as the interviewer asked their question. your eyes met lucy's as she talked with some of the real madrid b team girls, obviously trying to scope out your girlfriend. you chuckled to yourself at the knowledge that she'd come back without her answer. those girls were going to keep your secret no matter what.

"lucy bronze. my mother was a good english woman and took me to the lioness games when she could. i have been lucky enough to practice with my hero, and i hope that we can play together soon. things were not always easy, but i am the best version of myself because of her help." you felt good about your answer, not thinking about how many of your teammates would see it. you didn't have to think about it much until you were arriving back in barcelona after the game.

your parents had agreed on a sleepover at patri and pina's with bruna, jana, and vicky. a few of the older girls would be stopping by to hang out a little, but most likely not staying over. you were waiting for your overnight bag to be unloaded when you felt someone hug you from behind tightly.

"what the hell?" you questioned as you nearly fell over.

"you've got a way with making me feel like a real shithead. i am so sorry for ignoring you and being mean. i swear i'll never do it again, never ever," lucy promised you. you were about to make fun of her when you noticed the genuine tears in her eyes. "i am so proud of you, (y/n)."

"thank you lucy, it means a lot." you turned around in lucy's arms for a better hug. the moment was nice while it lasted, but then bruna was dragging you away while patri carried your bag for you. things felt a little chaotic with everybody talking over each other to finalize the plans, but all you cared about was getting to the sleepover to unwind a little bit.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #lucy bronze imagine #lucy bronze x reader #teen reader #platonic fic

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f1smutwriter · 15 hours

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Can you please write a smut about Charles that reader is a virgin and their first night is very hot (like very hot🥵) but Charles make it comfortable for reader. And Charles is madly in love with reader that he thinks she is love of his life ❤️

|𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 (𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔)

Experienced!Charles x Virgin!Reader

Summary: He wanted to make your first time special. So he taught you the basics, or that’s what you thought it was.

Warnings: SMUT! Innocence kink, extreme corruption kink, fingering, oral (fem rec), breast play, dirty talk, unprotected sex (Big no no), praise, degrading, squirting, begging kink, pet names (Mon cœur, little bunny, princess, baby, etc), like way more that I don’t remember.

Notes: for the person who requested sorry this took literal years. This is probably one of my favorite fics. But anyways, Hope you enjoy!!

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I wasn’t one of those people who were craving for sex. I was okay being a virgin at first, but then I hit my twenties and it became a problem. I had a hot boyfriend and people thought we were going at it like bunny’s all the time. But Charles was actually extremely supportive about my choice. Til one day I couldn’t take it anymore.

I’m sitting on the couch while watching tv cuddling myself waiting for Charles. I hear the jingle of his keys making me get up and rush to him. The second he came in he sees me charging at him making him smile as he picks me up. “Well hello to you too Mon cœur” he smiled as he kissed my head as I scrunched up my nose making him smile. “So what have you been doing while I was out” he asked me softly dragging me to sit in his lap. “Nothing watching tv” I whispered as he started kissing my neck like he normal does making me whimper.

“Aww, did I make my little bunny nervous” he smirked nibbling at my sweet-spot. "Baby stop it" I whined in his neck making him chuckle a bite making him smile. "I'm sorry baby" He smiled thinking I was getting uncomfortable so he rubbed by back. "What were you watching" He asked softly as he rubbed my back watching the movie I was watching. "Some type of dark romance movie it's honestly crazy" I say cuddling into his side while we watch the movie.

As we watch the movie we see a scene where the two main characters starting kissing and it gets heated. I suddenly feel a rush of heat between my legs, making me squeeze my thighs shut as hard as I can to relieve the feeling. “You okay baby” Charles asked with a smirk, knowing exactly what was going on. “Yeah I’m fine love don’t worry about me” I whispered squeezing my thighs more and I feel his hand go on one of them. I feel him drag his hand up and down my leg feeling shivers down my back.

I subconsciously opened spread my legs so he could touch me where I craved the most. He slowly touched my inner thigh so close to my wet core making me let out small whimpers as he goes. He slips his hand in my tiny pajama shorts making me whimper softly. His fingers gazed my clothed cunt letting out a breathy moan. “Do you want it Mon cœur” he whispered in my ear before kissing my neck softly.

“P-please” I cried out wanting him to do more to me. As I said that his fingers started rubbing soft circles on my clit making me moan out and buck my hips from the feign pleasure. “Sshh let it happen” he chuckled as rubbed my clit faster before checking how wet I was. Once he felt I was soaking he groaned, slipping a fingering in me making me moan louder. I grab his wrist to tell him to stop moving them, I let out a shaky breath as he continued to rub my clit with his thumb.

He picks me up and walks to the bedroom. “Your first time is most certainly not gonna be on the couch” he smiled as he threw me on the bed making me giggle out loud. “Gonna let me take this off” he asked me pulling on my pajama shorts making me nod softly. He pulled them down my legs along with my panties making me shiver slightly. “Fuck I can’t wait to taste you” he smirked at me feeling wide eyed at his comment. “What did you really think I wasn’t gonna taste this pretty pussy” he chuckled looking at my face amused as he rubbed my thighs.

“I-I don’t know” I whispered blushing bright cherry red making him laugh at me a bit. “Don’t worry gonna make you feel so good baby you’re not gonna walk for a week” he smiled as he went back to kissing me gently like I was the most fragile thing on planet earth. “Charles you don’t have to be gentle. I want it to be good for you too” I mumbled softly making him smile at my response to his kiss. “Don’t think you’d want that, I can be really rough and I don’t want to hurt you” he smiled softly as he rubbed my face his his thumb making my head lean closer to his hand.

I kiss him wrapping my arms around his neck as we kiss. He holds my waist as we make out, him slipping his tongue in my mouth gently making me gasp against his lips. He breaks the kiss to start kissing my neck slowly taking off his my shirt. “I love when your in my clothes like they were made for you” he whispered in my ear before going back to kissing my neck, sucking on my sweet-spot.

He goes down and sucks on my nipple, while rubbing the other one feeling my back arch off the bed and whimpers spilling out of my mouth. He kisses down my stomach and pecked the very top of my cunt making my thighs close together. “Leave them open” he growled as he spread my legs roughly making me gasp at his roughness. His fingers run through my soaking fold. He leaned down and started eating me out savoring my juices like he’s been dying for it.

He sucked on my clit making me gasp loudly and closing my thighs around his head. I feel him chuckled against my cunt, grabbing his hair to push his face and tongue deeper into my pussy. “Fuck this pussy taste so sweet. So mean for keeping it from me” he groaned against me feeling my legs shake from the pleasure. “I’m gonna eat you out all the time, when your asleep when your awake, when your showering” he mumbled as he wrapped his arms around my thighs to dig his face deeper into me.

“B-baby feel s-something in m-my stomach” I cried out making him chuckle. “That’s called an orgasm let it go cum all over my tongue let me taste how sweet you really are” he whispered sticking his tongue in my tight hole making a scream rip out of my throat. My thighs start shaking around his head as I cum all over his tongue tugging his hair for dear life. I swear that I almost black out from that intense moment. “How was that baby” he chuckled rubbing my face with his hands. “G-good” I stuttered out still feeling like I’m on cloud nine. “Want it rough Charles please” I begged him wanting him to take me rough to feel the whole experience. “You sure don’t want to hurt you” he asked making me nod frantically.

“Hands and knees ass in the air” he said quickly making me obey him in an instant. “Fuck can’t wait to stick my cock into your tight pussy. Gonna squeeze me so good” he said as reached over to grab a condom. “No don’t want it. Wanna feel you” I say making him grin grow even bigger. “Oh my dirty girl wants it raw, want me to fuck a baby into you. Well don’t worry I will” he said putting his hand under my mouth. “Spit don’t want you to get hurt” he demanded feeling myself spit in his hand. I see him in the mirror rubbing my saliva on his hard cock, he looked up and saw me staring at him in the mirror. He winked at me through it as his cock runs through my sensitive fold. He slowly slips in me groaning in pure pleasure as I groan from the burning stretch he gave me.

Tears running down my face making him laugh softly. “Is it too big for you” he smirked making him lay me on my back to see my every expression. He start thrusting in and out slowly making sure to not hurt me. As I get used to the feeling I start clenching around him from the pure pleasure. “F-fa-faster please faster baby” I cried out making him grab my hips and pound in and out of me. I feel my eyes roll at the back of my head feeling him hit that one spot deep inside I just found out about. “You look so good on my cock” he smiled before adding “I can’t wait to teach you how to ride me, just wait Mon cœur we’re not having no vanilla sex just you wait” He grin making me clench around his throbbing cock.

He sucked my nipple before he put his thumb in my aching clit making me gasp out loudly. He started rubbing it fast feeling my air leave my lungs in an instant. “Yeah there’s my good girl, so desperate and eager to be my little cock whore” He growled pounding harder and harder feeling my nails drag along his back hearing him growl in my ear. “Gosh baby don’t worry I’m gonna fill you up all the time to a point when your not full your gonna feel it still” He smirked making me scream out being so close over the edge. “Wanna cum huh baby” he smiled making me babbled nonsense. “Y-yes” I whined as he licked and sucked my neck marking me. “Cum baby, wanna feel you cum on my cock” he grumbled making my vision go black as I have the most mind blowing orgasm ever.

I feel liquid come out of me, trying to stop it but doesn’t work. I look at him in pure embarrassment as he smirks at me. He moves my hips chasing his orgasm, overstimulating me a bit. As he cums with a loud groan feeling the liquid come out of me again. He palms my clit fast moving side to side at an inhuman pace making the liquid come out in large amounts. “N-no more no more” I cried out begging him to stop from the pure sensitivity. He smiled as he licked up my abused pussy clean. “What the heck was that” I asked him hiding my face in his neck. “That was you squirting and Mon cœur I’m gonna make you do it all the time your gonna have none left in you” He smirked as he rubbed my hair softly out of my face.

“Thank you baby” I whispered in his neck rubbing his back a bit. “Thank you for what Joli” He smiled softly scratching my head. “Taking my virginity the best way possible” I grinned softly making him burst out laughing. “You are one of a kind Y/n L/n” He smiled kissing my head before we fall fast asleep in each others arms.

I know I said I didn’t crave it. But when you have a hot boyfriend who knows what he’s doing, you want it 24/7.

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Notes: this was the story I thought I posted to someone but turns out my system was being dumb and it was in my queue. Kinda awkward anyways I hope you guys like it am I’m posting more soon so give me more requests please I’m begging 🙏. HOPE YOU ENJOYED

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 smut #formula 1 smut #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x female oc #Charles leclerc x

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wndrhyuka · 2 days

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after the exam.

the first part. sfw suggestive. prof!mingyu. not proofread. wc 2.7k

good evening, y/n,

midterm grades were just posted, which i hope you've had the chance to look at. much to my surprise, it did not go well. the class average was just that. average. but your score in particular was lower than i had expected.

as you know, my office hours run from 3-4pm on MWF. we can review any material that might’ve challenged you. i’ll have a copy of the exam on hand if and when you come by.

i’d like to see you succeed in this course before the semester ends, and to better prepare you for any courses to follow this one.

best,

kim mingyu.

"fuck." you sighed aloud to yourself. checking your emails before going to sleep was now a decision you had come to regret.

you sat on your uncomfortable bed in your dorm, legs crossed with your laptop on your thighs. blindingly bright screen displaying text that twisted your stomach. you supposed you deserved this.

before the exam, you promised your professor that you'd "definitely" see him in his office. you mostly said so because you felt confronted, but looking back, you weren't sure why you did that.

no one's office hours worked your your schedule. your mornings throughout the week were filled with back to back lectures and the second you were done with class, you were on the bus to your part-time job at a coffee shop near your university.

you remember chan offering to study with you when you gave him your number, but you figured he also had other exams to cram for and you didn't want to get in the way.

so you studied on your own. youtube videos, practice tests, worksheets, the textbook, your notes, and your returned homework. every single symbol and number seemed to mush together on your paper.

you had seen your score when it was posted, and with all that effort, you earned yourself a 48/100. that score might've made sense if you said fuck it and chose not to try on the exam, but that wasn't what you were trying for at all, and this email in your lap told you that your professor caught onto that too.

you didn't have the guts to respond to him. it reeked of disappointment and you couldn't bear to acknowledge that. you shut your laptop and put it on your desk before going to bed.

the next morning you stood outside your calc lecture, waiting for the students inside to finish up.

"hey," you hear someone approach you. it was chan. he stands beside you against the wall of the corridor.

"hey." you can't help the smile that grows on your lips.

"so... did you check your score for the midterm?"

your shoulders drop and you roll your eyes, "wish i didn't."

"i probably got a lower score than you." he replies.

"what'd you get?" your voice reeked of doubt.

"64."

you scoff and turn away from him, arms crossed against your chest, "you're such an ass."

"what?!" he laughs, leaning closer to you when you move away, "there's no way you got less than me. i couldn't answer half of those questions."

"keep rubbing it in, chan. it feels great," you can't help but laugh at your failure, though laughing about it did cheer you up, especially with chan.

"you gonna tell me your score?" chan continues to tease you as students flood the hallways, leaving their lectures.

"never." you wince and hide your face in your hands.

"oh, come onnn. i wanna know." he nudges your shoulder with his.

you shake your head behind your hands, hiding your giddy smile and feeling the heat emitting from your cheeks on your palms. probably from the embarrassment, or maybe because you liked chan.

"class is starting, you two." you hear a stern voice ahead of you.

dropping your hands, you lift your head to see who it was.

your professor. he eyes you both through his glasses, holding his bag in hand before entering the classroom and letting the door close behind him.

when the door shuts, you're left in the silence of the now empty hallway rendered speechless as you and chan turned to each other, sharing confused expressions.

looking back through the slim window of the door, you could see your professor setting his bag down on the desk in the corner, pulling out a stack of papers.

you sigh, somehow feeling defeated. "did we do something wrong?" you whisper to chan. the first time you'd been scolded was understandable, but you weren't sure you deserved his abruptness this time.

chan looks at his phone and checks the time. "we still have 5 minutes 'til he's supposed to start class." he scoffs as puts his phone back in his pocket, "c'mon."

he walks forward and opens the door to the class. you head inside, walking between the rows of students to find your usual seat. chan takes a seat next to you while you unpack.

"morning, everyone." mingyu speaks at the front of the class, “i posted the grades to your midterm yesterday afternoon. if you haven't seen them yet, you can look in your online gradebook." moody groans and whispers cast a blanket over the students as he makes his way toward his desk, picking up a large stack of papers.

"i'll pass them back now." he begins walking around the class, calling out names, finding the student, then returning their test. “i made some notes on your work. please read them. it might help you understand any mistakes you made.”

"chan." he calls. chan raises his hand.

when he places the exam on chan's desk, you peek over at it. as expected, "64/100" was written largely in red pen on the first page. chan scooted it over to you, allowing you to look at it.

your lips straightened into a line as you picked it up, already feeling dissatisfied with yourself. you flipped through the pages to find the questions you knew you got wrong. when you analyzed his work, it all made sense. he made it seem so much simpler than you thought it was.

"y/n." you hear you professor call from behind you. turning around in your chair, you raise your hand and see him make his way over.

as he drew nearer, you felt your heart beating faster in your chest. maybe you were anxious because you stood him up last week. or maybe it was because he had been curt with you and chan. even if neither were the case, there was still one fundamental cause for your unease. you found him incredibly attractive.

he looms over your left shoulder and sets your exam down, large build positioned behind you so closely that you felt the heat of his body on your back. the warm and woodsy scent of him filling your nose and threatening an upward curl at the corner of your lips. you bite down on them and attempt to shake your head out of the gutter while focusing on your breathing.

after handing back your exam, he bends down from his upright stance, "see me after class, please."

your breathing comes to an abrupt stop as the pressure of your teeth in your bottom lip increases tenfold. his voice was smooth as velvet. speaking just above a whisper, you felt chills run down your spine as his words reached your ears. the aroma falling from him wouldn’t help either. his cologne was intoxicating at this proximity. it made you dizzy, and you felt your eyelids become heavy for a moment.

before you can even exhale to respond, he walks away and returns to the front of the class. you turn toward chan to see if he caught that, but he was sitting with eyes glued to his phone in his lap. you thought about telling him what happened until you were interrupted.

"alright. let's get started." his voice commands the attention of the room. chan puts his phone away.

you look toward your professor who begins writing on the board. everyone around you picks up their pencils and begins taking note of his work, but you were frozen.

your mind was occupied. you were looking at the board but nothing was registering. focusing on the lesson seemed impossible after hearing his voice in your ear like that. you felt terrified, flustered, and some third emotion that you couldn't quite name, though it seemed to be the strongest.

the hour long lecture carries out, and you couldn't concentrate for one second. chan noticed your pencil clutched in your hand, but the page of your notebook empty.

"y/n," he whispers.

you jolt, waking from your trance, and face him.

"are you okay?" he quietly asks.

you smile and nod, chuckling awkwardly before slowly turning your head down towards your notebook. you rest the tip of your pencil against your notebook, but write nothing as your subconscious resumed its hold on you.

you sat there for the remainder of the period with your back straight, but your eyes slightly downward towards your notebook, more than distracted with several thoughts running through your head.

what would he say? would he shame your score? would he confront you about standing him up? did he ask anyone else to stay back? would he be passive aggressive like he had been with you and chan? the questions clouded every corner of your brain.

you were awoken again by the sudden rustling of papers and backpacks zipping around you, including chan's.

"y/n, are you sure you're okay?" he asks again, "you didn't write anything down."

"oh, yeah. i just..." you stare blankly at him. he stares back with concern in his brow. "i didn't feel like it today, i guess." you blurt.

"alright," he stands and swings his bag around his shoulder, "i have to head to my next class, but i'll see you here monday?"

"yeah!" you beam, trying not to cause worry.

"later," he smiles. adjusting his bag, he then makes his way to the door.

"wait, chan!" you exclaim.

he stops and turns around quickly with a quirked brow.

"could you, um, send me a picture of your notes, please?" you ask sheepishly.

he giggles, "sure thing. i'll text you tonight." he says with a cheeky smile before leaving.

after he's gone, you sigh deeply. looking around, you notice everyone had left the class. your professor remained at the board, erasing the board clean.

you put your things away and pick up your bag, cautiously walking up to him.

as you moved closer, you could spot what your eyes always used to fall on. his body. the muscles that never failed to peek through the cotton button ups he wore. biceps flexed while he swiped the eraser across the board. back muscles engaged as the words on the board disappeared.

"y/n." he utters, still facing the board.

your eyes widen, realizing you'd been standing behind him silently for a bit. he puts the eraser down, board now clear.

"thanks for seeing me." he looks downward to meet your gaze. "i just have a few things to ask you." he walks over to his desk to lean against it, looking all too familiar to the last time you were stuck with him after lecture.

you don't move in closer, only turning on your heels to face him. "yes?" your voice emits a much higher pitched reply than you wanted.

"did you get my email last night?" he asks, folding his arms against his chest.

"i did, yes."

"and you didn't reply?" he asks soberly.

shit.

"oh. well, i m-meant to. i should've. it was just... it was really late and-"

he chuckles outwardly at you, halting your nervous blabbering before it inevitably got worse. you turn your chin away from him, confused at his behavior.

"i'm just teasing you," he huffs after his laugh, "that's actually why i wanted to see you today."

you resist rolling your eyes and instead wear a smile. "i'm sorry, professor. i did intend to reply."

"don't worry about it. although, you might be worried about other things." he looks down and raises the knuckle of his finger up to his glasses and straightens them on to sit higher on his nose bridge, "your exam." you wanted to scream when he said the words. "was that the score you wanted?"

you chuckled so you wouldn't cry, "no, sir, not at all. i-i'm not sure what happened with me." you avoid his eyes.

"an issue with you?" he tilts his head slightly. "what makes you say that?"

"i don't know," you sigh, "i guess i was just extremely unprepared for this test."

"mm," he hums. "is that the score you think you deserved?"

you furrow your brows at that. "since when are exams graded on what the student deserves?" you scoff, "i don't think that really matters..."

"i do." he quickly comments. it almost sounded like he was challenging your sentiment, but you had nothing to say in return.

"let me ask you this, y/n. did you ever plan on coming to my office hours the week before the exam? you did ask me when they were."

there it was.

it felt like he had you in the jaws of a trap. though, you expected him to mention this at some point.

"i did want to see you, professor, but your hours didn't work with my schedule." you explained rather urgently.

his eyes dart down for a moment to think, "what about the TA's?"

"his don't work for me either." you answered, nervously chewing on the inside of your cheek watching his face react to your excuses.

he sat there silently for a moment, rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb, appearing in deep thought. you didn't know what to do with yourself.

"the learning assistants for calc have limited hours too. i have back to back classes in the morning and i have work in the afternoons." you offer more excuses to fill the uneasy silence.

he meets your eyes again. "when do you get off?"

"sorry?"

"of work. when do you leave work?" he doubles down on his question.

"it depends?" you reply hesitantly. "if i'm lucky, i'll be done around 5pm. but i don't usually have much luck."

"i see," he murmurs as he looks into your eyes for a moment. "one more question for you."

you perk up to make yourself open to his question.

he straightens his posture against his desk and uncrosses his arms. "if you were presented with an opportunity to get the exam score you deserve, would you take it?"

your head tilts back slightly. "o-of course," you respond. you understood what he was saying but you couldn't help the confusion his statement brought. "i just wouldn't be sure why i deserved to be offered that opportunity, i guess." you chuckle.

"so that's a yes?" he presses.

"...yes." you pause. his ambiguity made you nervous to agree.

he got off his desk and was now standing in front of you. your eyes followed his as they rose far above your line of sight. "i know you're a smart girl, y/n. you just can't access the help you need. so i'd like to offer my help."

"that's very kind of you, professor, but i can't make it to your office hours or-"

"i want to reschedule them to a time that'll work for you." he cuts you off.

your words were caught in your throat again.

"you said you get off at 5?" he continues.

"i..." his assuredness threw you off. "it depends, sir." you spoke slowly. you wanted to answer him properly but you were too confounded with his overly polite suggestion. "sometimes i leave around 7, but i have no control over when my shift ends." just thinking about it all while he was so close to you made you stressed.

"if you were able to communicate with me exactly when your shift ends, i'd be happy to work around your availability to help you with this class."

"what do you... mean?" with mingyu looming over you, it was difficult to process what he was saying. even more so because his cologne was engulfing you in its cloud yet again.

"tell me when you're done with work and i can arrange to meet with you. does that sound good?"

"y-yes, but... how will i tell you?" you mumble, eyes blinking heavier than before.

"you're no good at responding to emails, are you?" he smiles playfully, "how about i give you my number instead."

#seventeen #svt suggestive #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt smut #seventeen professor #seventeen fics #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu x reader #mingyu hard thoughts #mingyu hard hours #svt hard hours #professor mingyu #mingyu smut #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines

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notjaexiee · 3 days

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CHERRY LIPGLOSS SUCKS

Part 1 | Part 2

Summary: You and Regina have a long-standing history together, and now, with your exes pairing up in a new relationship, you are reluctantly forced to work together to win them back. Will the familiarity bring you closer, or will old habits resurface, leading to further tensions?

Warnings: manipulative regina, profanity, beginner fanfic writer:so mid writing, mentions of weed and mozzarella sticks

Words:1.3k

A/N:Thank you so much for all the support on Part 1, especially to that one user who reblogged and said "go read or u suck" I LOVE U.

Regina's words echoed in my mind like a stuck record."

"Ill see you tomorrow, after school, underneath the bleache-"

"Dude!" Mae jolted me out of my thoughts, snapping. My brain instantly refocused on the present moment.

The final class had just 5 minutes left, and I had to meet Regina. I hadn't had a genuine and meaningful conversation with Regina in a while. Our last talk had taken place years ago, and it didn't exactly conclude on the best terms.

"Did You really have to be that honest?!"

"Y-Yeah?" I stammered as I shook my head, desperately trying to clear my mind.

"Are you even paying attention?" she asked with an eye roll.

Trying to cover up my shit, I responded with a snort, "Of course!" hoping she would buy my lie.

Unconvinced, she asked, "So, when is Anders' soccer game?"

Ander plays soccer?

I gulped, "Tomorrow?" I replied, my voice smaller.

"Ander has asthma, dumbass." She pointed out

My shoulders sagged as I let out a resigned sigh, muttering under my breath, "fuck you, reverse psychology."

"You good?"

I attempted to brush off Mae's concern, replying, "It's nothing."

She gave me a skeptical look, countering, "Bullshit. You didn't even touch those mozzarella sticks I brought you. You love mozzarella sticks."

"I was full," I argued lamely, attempting to defend myself.

Mae raised a skeptical eyebrow, reminding me, "You guzzle down a Red Bull every morning for breakfast. Your 'full' card doesn't fly, genius."

"I'm just not in the mood today, okay?" I reasoned again

"Fine," Mae conceded, slightly annoyed. "I'm going to go help Brynn roll some. Want to join?"

I shook my head, declining her offer.

"Nah, I have something to do," I responded, already turning to leave the classroom.

Mae looked at me suspiciously, raising an eyebrow. "Okay..." she replied, still doubting my excuse.

I was growing increasingly annoyed as I waited for Regina under the stinking bleachers. The place absolutely reeked, and I had been tapping my foot in irritation for far too long.

"I'm a bit surprised you actually showed up."

Regina stated as she approached me with a confident stride.

I responded in a sarcastic tone, rolling my eyes, "Yeah, blackmailing me about my friends really works wonders."

I glanced around, surprised not to see Gretchen and Karen accompanying her, as usual.

I couldn't help but comment, "Where are your backscratching bootlickers?" I raised an eyebrow.

With a slight tilt of her head she responded with a snarky remark, "Your mouth is still as vulgar as ever, i guess some things never change."

"As if you're any better." I mumbled under my breath, too low for her to hear

"Woah woah, dating!?" I replied, thoroughly taken aback. "No way am i going to be your girlfriend!"

Regina quickly corrected me, "Pretend." She rolled her eyes, growing impatient with me. "Do you want Tina back?" She asked, her annoyance clear. "Then there's no question about it.

I wrestled with the idea, questioning if it was even worth the effort.

My face twisted in doubt as I questioned her plan. "How do you even know this will work?"

Regina's voice took on a venomous tone as she snapped, "Can you just shut up and trust me?"

My scoff turned into a mocking laugh. "Trust you, Regina?" I taunted

I sat alone in my darkened room, tears streaming down my face as I clutched my teddy bear tightly for comfort. My room looked like a cyclone had gone through it; pillows and blankets scattered every which way, and pieces of paper and pictures torn up. I could hear my mother's concerned voice outside my door, saying Regina wanted to talk to me. I shouted back, my voice shaking with anger, "Tell her to fuck off!"

I scoffed in disbelief. "Right, because the last time I trusted you really worked out well for me." The memory of her betrayal still stung.

"Can we not discuss that right now?" Regina replied sharply, but my anger remained.

The audacity of this bitch is terrifying!

"We're going to have to work together, so if you keep bringing it up, you're just making this more uncomfortable than it already is."

My anger gradually faded, replaced by a begrudging acceptance. I hated to admit it, but she was right

— we I couldn't keep dwelling on the past if we were going to make this plan work.

I reluctantly agreed, "Fine," Part of me yearned for an acknowledgement, for her to address the past, but her lack of response just left me feeling disappointed.

Regina sneered disdainfully, her gaze traveling along my entire body, her eyes judging me. "What the fuck are you wearing?" she taunted, as if I had committed a fashion felony.

I looked down at my clothes, feeling a bit self-conscious. "What?" I replied defensively, unsure of the issue.

Regina abruptly grabbed my wrist, her touch surprisingly warm. Without a word, she began pulling me towards her red Jeep.

"where are you tak—" I started, but she quickly cut me off, her words laced with annoyance.

"I am not going to be seen with an outdated loser," she retorted, her grip not relenting as we approached her vehicle.

I stumbled slightly as she practically dragged me along, trying to protest, "It's just a band tee!"

My wrist felt the absence of her touch as Regina turned to open the driver's door of her Jeep.

As she settled into the driver's seat I glanced back at the passenger and the back seat, debating where to sit.

Opting for the safer choice, I reached out for the back door handle before Regina interrupted me.

"Sit in the passenger seat, idiot," she ordered, her tone cutting through the air.

Reluctantly, I opened the passenger door and slid into the seat beside Regina, sitting a slight distance away from her. As she started the jeep and began driving, I turned my gaze towards the window.

I tried once more to get an answer, my eyes still glued to the outside world.

"Seriously," I persisted, "where are we going?"

Regina's response was brief, "Shopping," she replied. "If I'm going to pretend to date you, you at least need some proper clothes."

The cafeteria felt oddly silent as a murmur of whispers surrounded me. I couldn't tell if it was my anxiety playing tricks on me, but the atmosphere felt eerily hushed.

"I hate this," I muttered under my breath, feeling the weight of everyone's gazes upon me. Wearing the clothes Regina had deemed socially acceptable yesterday made me feel even more out of place right now.

My train of thought came to a halt as my phone buzzed with a notification. It was a message from Regina: "Stop standing there like a statue. Come sit with us."

I glanced at my phone, finding a flurry of messages from my friends group chat. "Where are you?" and "What the hell are you wearing" filled the screen. I reluctantly raised my gaze to our usual table, only to see my friends staring at me, bewildered. Swiftly muting my phone, I headed towards the plastics table.

'Took you long enough,' she muttered, as I approached, her eyes glued to her phone, no doubt scrolling through Instagram.

Gretchen, a hint of false enthusiasm in her expression, looks up from her phone. "Why's she here?" she asks, peering at Regina through raised eyebrows.

Regina retorts with a deadpan tone, rolling her eyes slightly, "To sit with us.”

Gretchen, her voice rising in pitch, exclaims, "What?! She can't-" only to be cut off by Regina's firm interject.

"Sit," Regina says, her inflection leaving no room for argument.

I hesitantly moved to sit across them.

"Hey, sorry- uh," I greet, looking between Karen and Gretchen with a mix of confusion and frustration. "Why am I sitting here? This is not part of the plan!" I whisper-yelled at Regina, leaning in closer to avoid being overheard.

With a roll of her eyes, Regina replied, "Just go with it." She set her phone down, adding, "Tina's watching".

I glanced around the cafeteria, spotting Tina seated with her clique, watching me intently. In that moment, our eyes met, confirming that the first step of Regina's plan had been successfully executed.

Step one:Complete

A/N: next part is cadys arrival😱🥶

#mean girls #mean girls musical #regina george #regina george imagine #regina george x reader #regina george x fem!reader #regina george x you

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olderthannetfic · 2 days

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That lorefm thing finally made me lock my fics. The thing I really didn't about the debacle wasn't the app itself (I hate it but I knew something would be done after all that backlash) but the people defending it and not understanding why writers are upset and seeing writers as terrible people for not supporting the app even after all the explanations given. It having that kind of support is scary to me cause it meant the people behind the app and others might try again cause there'd be people into it. Then there's also seeing someone's post saying "Fanfic is already stealing from IPs and now you're all mad someone is stealing from you?" cause wtf?

Also, whose voice would be used for the app? I bet the AI voices are stolen, too. Those issues have been talked about a lot last year (the AI scraping and the voice actors' voices being turned to AI and used without their permission) and I'm just tired.

The fear of harassment from antis didn't make me lock my fics but this did. Kinda sad cause a lot of my readers are guests (based on the kudos I get) although I hope something could be done with all this so I can unlock them someday.

The app-makers claimed the voices were used with permission. My guess is that this is either a lie or they were paid for the use in a prior app.

I hear people about the wayback machine and how it's sad when fics are locked because they aren't saved that way, but frankly, I love locking my fics.

It promotes AO3. It tells people to man up and admit they're serious enough to need an account instead of letting them be like "Oh, I only dabble" while looking down their noses at the people who provide their entertainment. (Yes, this is more common than you'd think.) It gets rid of the gawking masses who were sent a link because it was ~cringe~.

Shoutout to the rando in the coffee shop the other day regaling the entire space with how she found a Richard Nixon/Eugene Krabs fic. Haha.

It makes it less of a blow when someone is harassed into locking. And just generally, it emphasizes that using AO3 is a privilege and fandom is a community. This isn't just ~content~ with no context or restrictions.

Minor barriers to entry greatly improve the internet.

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captainjamster · 12 hours

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Hey if you're comfortable with it, do you think you write about how 141 would react to finding out you're ticklish? Preferably nsfw. Maybe they just tease you with it or maybe they have a session with you after a while and enjoy how it drives you crazy. It could be poly141 or just a drabble with each members reaction.

I love your writing sm

I'm sorry this took a while anon, thank you so much for your request!! This is the first time I've written about tickling, so I hope it came out alright. I loved researching this lmfao it's so cute

Pairing(s): 141 x reader (separately, not poly or sharing this time sorry! :p) Warnings: Bondage and restraint, tickling, tickling during sex Wordcount: 1.2k Summary: How each of the boys enjoy tickling you :p AO3 Link: Right here! <3

Full drabbles under cut <3

Price loves your laugh; just the sound can get him hard. Maybe you should’ve seen it coming from the first date. It was the first thing he complimented you on in the small bakery – heart eyes over the brim of his coffee cup that had your cheeks red, already breathless at the story between a cheeky sounding sergeant and someone’s poor dog. He stores every terrible joke exchanged amongst his boys, bringing them home just to fill your ears with them, to get anything from that exasperated little giggle to a shocked cackle at some of Ghost’s darker ones – the first time he hears you belly laugh, he writes the beginning of his wedding vowels.

For him, there’s a privilege in being allowed to bring you to such a vulnerable state, dazed and breathless, whether it’s scrabbling against the material of his shirt as you’re bent over in hysterics, hiding behind your hands, gasping for air at the comedy he’s been nagging you to watch, or between his thighs against the mattress, straining with hiccupped shrieks and pleads at his weight as he tortures your overstimulated skin. The only thing he uses is his fingers, and he’s stubborn about it, possessive of the tactile connection between his fingertips against your skin. The furthest he goes is a plug in your pussy, with a command to try and keep it there at the threat of a good spanking (though you both know you’re going to fail).

He challenges himself to make you come with just tickling – he neglects your needy pussy, wet and fluttering with arousal, until the delicate dragging of his nails down the plush insides of your thigh has you spasming around nothing.

Gaz, poor Gaz. Gaz, with blood under his nails he just can’t scrub, who sees someone’s face with every punch he throws at the bag. He’s heard the way his peers talk all throughout his service – spank their ass, slap their face, tight grip to the throat, till they ache.

There was only one part that ever stuck with him – till they ache.

The only time he raises a hand against you is to watch you squeal in anticipation before it flies down to your stomach, skittering up and down the soft skin as you twist and writhe against the sheets. It’s everything he needs – he can make you cry, beg, scream, with the whisp of a few touches, the softest of caresses. Tracing the marks that scatter your skin, only love bites and the imprints of restraint. On some nights, Gaz loves tying you up and tickling you, watching you squirm and contort against his ropes in an attempt to escape. The knots dip into your flesh, keeping your arms straight and pointed to the metal hook that meets the rope stemming from your wrists, legs spread wide with the thick bar anchoring your feet flat to the ground. His fingers dance over every inch of skin bare to him, honing to the areas you try to pull away from, watching you sway this and that way in peals of laughter as he switches between sides on your ribs.

Unlike Price, he doesn’t care for games – he’ll give you what you want. A toy, his fingers, his cock. Slow and steady, letting the rope drop a little to bend you at the waist, rocking back and forward into him, clenching down those slick and warm walls in sync with each ragged laugh. He doesn’t mind wielding a tickle wand, dragging the feathers up and down your thighs, your armpits, behind your knees. It’s not over until your eyes are puffy, cheeks tear stained as you sag under your own weight, kept suspended by the rope as your knees shake.

Soap becomes aware of your ticklish nature very quickly, being such a tactile partner. He’s always touching you – whether it’s an arm around your waist, foot rubbing against your calf, pinkies linked together – and it isn’t long before he unintentionally makes you squeal, accidentally brushing up against one of your most sensitive areas. The noise makes him jump, worried he’s hurt you, but when he sees the red of your cheeks and the shy smile on your face? Oh, it’s over for you.

“Y’ticklish, bonnie?”

He’s all a-grin every time, hands raising menacingly with wiggling fingers.

For a while it stays non-sexual, but poor Johnny can’t help himself. The tickle fights start to linger way past what’s appropriate, making home in his mind – how you get so panicked and squirmy, trying to get away from his fingers, your breathless laugh and gasps as his name whines so desperately from your lips. Your squeals rings through his ears during overdue paperwork in his late nights, so clear that he swears your lips brush across the tips of his ears, and Price avoids looking at him too closely as he turns in the files before leaving.

Sly, smart Johnny starts off slow. When the mood is playful during sex, he purposely rubs his hair and beard up against your neck, your back, feeling you pulse erratically around him with each giggle. He introduces it in increments, a foot in the door as you warm to the idea. Things really get going when he confesses, head buried in the crook of your neck as he groans how the way you flutter around his cock with each giggle brings him so close, and you can't help but laugh at that too. Poor Johnny comes harder than he ever has, and you can't help but want to indulge the glassy, lovestruck expression on his handsome face.

Unlike Gaz, he’d never restrain you - Johnny loves fighting you to stay still, caging you in or dragging you back by the ankle into his reach.

For Ghost, he loves the chase and anticipation beforehand, and his favourite way of being a pest – catch him brushing against just the right spot to make you jump and squeal as his arms slip around you, or his chin nuzzles into your neck.

But it starts with a morning of productivity, taken with your own domestic chores in a quiet co-existence. He’s finished a spot-tidy, bringing some discarded rubbish and checking on you in the kitchen. You’re unsuspecting, caught up in your respective daily activities, fixated on the job in front of you – and something hits him. The way you bob along happily to the music in your head, scrubbing at the dishes with a sway in your hips, caught up in your own world. Your happiness is magnetic, beckoning him and basking him in the same warm rush of dopamine. A light bubbles up through his body, something that forces its way from the depths of his chest more often when you’re around, and his feet are moving towards the kitchen before he thinks twice.

“Hey love?”

You hum questioningly, putting elbow grease into a particularly stuck blemish from the morning’s dishes.

“Got somethin’ for you.”

You finally turn around, soapy hands in the air as droplets cascade from them. Simon gives you a second to stare quizzically, watching your expression morph into a pleading grin as his hands creep up from his sides, fingers curling over into a leering grab.

“No! I’m washing dishes, please!”

His grin widens, fingers wiggling threateningly. “Then dry your hands.”

Your hands fall to your shirt, squeezing the material as you ready yourself to bolt. He squares up, arms outstretched, but he doesn’t close them as you swoop by close enough, out the kitchen in a mad dash. Though the chase is superficial, it doesn’t stop the thrill that jolts him with each impending step, following you through to the loungeroom. The sofa keeps him at bay, circling each other in a practiced synchronisation around the furniture as you feint left and right, keeping him guessing which way you’ll take off.

You bluff right to distract him from your plan to run the other way, but Simon lunges left anyway. He’s faster than you can think, reading the tensing of your muscles, and unable to rectify your charade as you scramble, his arms clamp around you in a swooping grab.

And as you gasp and giggle underneath him, something stirs to life.

dividers by cafekitsune

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himenaayo-blog · 2 days

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Hyunjin fic rec

Love Letters to Who | 4.9k @skz317cb97

Your 21st birthday you were gifted a mysterious journal. If you thought you were shocked when you saw a reply to your first entry from someone, you just about shit when you saw words appearing on the page out of nowhere, right in front of your eyes! Who was owner of those words? Who was H.H?

Reverie, (18+) | 18.9k @changbunnies

Staring out from your window everyday where you live confined, Hyunjin sees you- melancholic, lonely, beautiful; love at first sight. He wants to know you, to take you away from where you remain, doomed to be solitary. Spending your every moment daydreaming about the perfect life, meeting Hyunjin sparks a hope that you'd long since given up on- that your reverie can become your reality.

ice on whiskey ─── hwang hyunjin. | 25k @starlostseungmin

Hyunjin assassino

a lullaby on his throat | 67.8k @straywrds

a demigod is sent to the mortal plane by his god of a father as a punishment

I can hear the siren | 25k @moonlinos

To say your new next-door neighbor is loud would be an understatement. Three times a week, at the same time every night, he will laugh and talk loudly for an hour. After that, like clockwork, a cacophony of his groans and moans will fill your room through your shared wall. He’s most certainly entertaining some hookup, or maybe a girlfriend. You frankly don’t care — all you know is you want your peace and quiet back. But you never would’ve guessed what you would find out upon confronting him.

• Félix fanfic

Why does It Hurt ?

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literallyspiderwoman · 20 hours

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“Dad are you really this afraid of me?!”

There were a LOT of lines in ATSV that stuck out to me, but this specific one hit me right in the feels.

First of all the way Gwen says it, her tone, the pain and emotion in her voice, her expression, EVERYTHING leading up to this one simple question is heartbreaking. Especially when you consider why she’s even asking this in the first place.

I want to point out that right after Gwen took her mask off, the background colors change from dark red to much less threatening colors, much softer if I might add. This basically signifies George’s POV.

Gwen had just revealed her identity as Spider-Woman to her dad, who’s now in complete shock. He believes Spider-Woman is a murderer, and now that his own daughter comes out and tells him that she is in fact Spider-Woman, he jumps to the conclusion that “Spider-Woman is a murderer who killed Peter so that must mean that’s all true about my daughter.” instead of “Ah, my daughter is sweet so there’s no way those things about Spider-Woman are true!”. Now when I first watched this scene, I was like “Huh?”, because Gwen could’ve said ANYTHING else to her dad. She could’ve been like “Why are you doing this?!”, or she could’ve gotten angry at him. Gwen is WAY stronger than George, if he decided to shoot her, she would have been able to easily dodge that bullet. She could seriously hurt George if she wanted to and she knows it, but when George started reading Gwen her Miranda Rights, Gwen wasn’t angry, she was heartbroken, and you can see the change in her expression.

At first, she looks upset, fearful, and worried. Then, she looks hopeful. Hopeful that her dad will hear what she has to say, hopeful that her dad will understand her and trust her when she tells him that she isn’t a murderer, but he doesn’t. THATS when Gwen’s expression shifts from hopefulness to disbelief and heartbreak. “You’re in this to help people right? Well so am I”, Gwen was trying to convince her dad that she was on his side, that she didn’t kill Peter, that she isn’t what he thinks she is, but George doesn’t listen. Gwen thought that by telling her dad “You’re all I have left”, that that’d make him listen, but it didn’t.

You can hear the utter shock and disbelief in Gwen’s voice when her dad actually starts reading her rights, and you can hear how scared and distraught George is too, but there’s a hint of remorse in his voice. He sounds like he doesn’t want to do this. He sounds like he’s in pain, and well- he is. He’s arresting his own daughter.

Just put yourself in Gwen’s position for a second. She just revealed her biggest secret to her dad, and the reason she hid it from him for so long was because she was terrified of the thought that he would attempt to arrest her, and he DOES. He chooses to be a ‘good’ cop over being a dad. Imagine your own father, your own flesh and blood, and the person who gave you life, is absolutely terrified of you to the point where he almost aims a gun at you out of pure fear. But George doesn’t see his own child, he sees a monster. The same monster that murdered his daughter’s best friend. He quite literally can’t see his daughter in front of him, he just sees Spider-Woman.

“How long have you been lying to me?” Is the only question George asks Gwen throughout this entire scene. He asked this as a father, not as a cop. He was absolutely distraught and the only thoughts going through his mind were “No, this can’t be true…” and “How could my girl, my sweet girl…” (Actual line from the script btw). Another line that sort of stood out to me was “Can you just not be a cop for a second and be my dad here?”, Gwen didn’t feel like she was speaking to her dad, she felt like she was facing down a cop. George has been treating Gwen like a criminal this whole interaction. “Do you really think I’m a murderer?” Gwen asked this because could not BELIEVE that her dad actually thought that of her. The whole reason Gwen removed her mask in the first place was out of fear that her dad would actually shoot her, he already fired a warning shot, so why wouldn’t he just go ahead and pull the trigger?

Something I noticed earlier is how Gwen’s spider senses went off when her dad approached her. Spider senses ONLY go off when there’s a threat nearby, so this pretty much means Gwen saw her dad as a threat to her life :(

Also taking note of the fact that Gwen is his daughter, 16 years old- and like 5’4, but George is STILL powerless against her. His only option is to get her to surrender. Gwen and George kinda switched places throughout this scene. At first, Gwen is terrified of George, and then by the end it’s the other way around.

Gwen tries her hardest to plead with George, she kept her arms up in a defenseless position the whole time to show her dad that she won’t hurt him, but he can’t even look at her. This is something I took note of when watching ATSV; While George is reading Gwen her Miranda Rights, he can’t bring himself to look at her. He just stares at the ground, with a disappointed expression on his face. A face of pain. There’s a clear difference when George first says “You have the right to remain silent”, and the second time he says it. It’s like he doesn’t want to do it.

Now, I do hate George and I think he did a LOT wrong in this movie, but just look at his face for a second. Does that look like the the face of a man who is happy with what he’s doing? No. That’s a face of regret and guilt. He isn’t doing this because he wants to, he’s doing this because he’s afraid. Afraid of what exactly? Well, that brings us to my next point.

So obviously Gwen is in shock right now, her own father is trying to arrest her because he believes she murdered her childhood friend. Not only is Gwen shocked but she’s also confused. She’s probably thinking “Why is he doing this?”, and she came to the conclusion that her dad was doing this out of fear. Fear of HER.

This is a major reason as to why Gwen didn’t reveal her identity to her dad for so long. She knew he wouldn’t accept her, she knew he’d be scared of her, and she was right. George isn’t doing this just because he wants to be a good cop, he’s standing in front of the ‘dangerous menace’ who killed Peter, and that dangerous menace is Gwen, his daughter. George’s immediate reaction is to arrest Gwen because like I said earlier- He can only see Spider-Woman.

Now onto what this whole analysis is about, the line Gwen utters next… Along with “You’re the best thing I’ve ever done”, and “I can’t lose one more friend”, this line BROKE me. Gwen assumed that George was doing this out of fear, which is the main reason she asked him this. She was so frustrated by the thought of her own father doing something like this to her. She hated being misunderstood to the point of being seen as a monster by the one person she considers a role model to follow, the ONE person she has left. You can hear the pain in Gwen’s voice as well as her dad’s.

You can actually hear a slight change in George’s tone after Gwen says that line. Because SHE’S RIGHT. He IS afraid of her. That’s the whole reason as to why he’s doing this. He doesn’t even respond to her, his voice slightly breaks and you can definitely tell this is really hard for him. Hearing his own daughter straight up ask him if he’s really afraid of her probably felt like a punch in the gut, that’s a question neither of them thought they’d ever have to face.

George fears Gwen because she allegedly ‘killed’ Peter, but it’s also because of her abilities. George has seen what Spider-Woman is capable of. He’s seen what she can do. That’s the reason he backed away and raised his gun at Gwen when she took a step closer to him and yelled “DAD STOP!”, he was scared of her.

Gwen was heartbroken. She was trying her HARDEST to plead with her dad just for him to try and arrest her, aim a gun at her, and yell “DONT COME ANY CLOSER!” at her when she tried to approach him. Honestly I’m surprised Gwen didn’t snap after this, let alone forgive George at all. Imagine living with the mentality that your own dad didn’t hesitate to point a gun at you while yelling at you to not come any closer, poor Gwen.

I’ve always wondered what would’ve happened if Miguel and Jess hadn’t intervened. George actually had the intention of shooting Gwen, so if Miguel didn’t trap him in that box thing, George might’ve actually gone through with it, and that’s sickening to think about. The fact that he was even WILLING to aim a gun at Gwen is enough to fuck her up.

I don’t blame Gwen for wanting to join the Spider Society after this. I mean come on, her dad is terrified of her and thinks she’s a murderer, and she believes if she joins the Spider Society, she’ll finally find people who accept and understand her. No wonder she left Earth 65.

This entire scene was so heartbreaking dude I wanna cry time I watch it ☹️ The watercolors in the background as well as the voice acting from both Gwen and her dad were amazing and SO emotional, along with their expressions and the soundtrack- Ahh I could talk about this movie forever 😭 But anyways, thanks for reading my little analysis and FUCK GEORGE STACY ALL MY HOMIES HATE GEORGE STACY!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🗣️🗣️🗣️💥💥💥💥💥🙅🏼‍♀️🙅🏼‍♀️🙅🏼‍♀️

#george stacy keep your fucking doors locked.#KYS GEORGE STACY #LEAVE GWENNY ALONE #atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderman #gwen stacy #spiderverse #ghost spider #spider gwen

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aka-indulgence · 2 days

Text

Gentleman

Thank you @skelliefanatic for another commission! They wanted a Buckshot roulette Dealer and man do I need More Dealer huehuehhe

Ao3 Link Commission Info

(The Dealer x Female!Reader)

Working at a club wasn’t fun. The lights, the sounds, the smell (ugh, the smell), not to mention the people…

There is an upside to working there though. The owner of the establishment was a nice, polite, respectful man. Even if his face looked like something out of a nightmare.

TW: Guns, injury and blood, general club stress (canon typical stuff)

———

You were not having a good time.

Your head pounded, and the time you should’ve spent walking to the bus stop was taken by having to deal with a rowdy drunkard until eventually you resorted to asking the bouncer for help. It wasn’t realistic, but you hoped to go home before the last bus- at 1-2AM. You asked your boss to go home earlier tonight; you were exhausted and easily overwhelmed tonight. He did give you permission (you think he might have a soft spot for you), but despite his goodwill you ended up missing it anyway.

You might’ve had a bit of a panic attack… just a little one. You fled to the bathroom and locked yourself in there for about half an hour. The music was too loud, the thick smoke was nauseating, and if you had to stand under the flashing neon lights for much longer you think you’d start screaming. The stalls muffled the sounds a bit, which was better than nothing. (Though you did hear a couple of girls come in to… expel their stomachs. That didn’t help.)

When you got out, it was clear to anyone that you weren’t ok. The bartender, Jacob, took one look at you and grimaced.

“Hey, you look rough. Do you want something from back here? Dealer probably wouldn’t mind if it was you to be honest.”

“No thanks. I don’t really wanna get sick tonight.”

“Fair enough,”

You tried to help him out even though you knew you wanted nothing to do with the club patrons right now- but he was kind enough to give you reprive and let you stay at the back of the bar for the rest of the night.

After many long hours, the club finally closed and everyone dispersed. You felt like you could take a good long breath; and it meant the next bus was coming soon.

You took a peek out the door. The sky was as dark as ever and you could feel an immediate chill down to your bones, even though you only opened the door a crack. The music’s off and so were all the lights of the club, except for the bar. Your eyes and throat feel dry. You can tell your muscles were going to be sore once you got home, and honestly, you might sleep on the bar floor if the club wasn’t so eerie.

For the record, you do prefer a closed club over the sensory overload that was an open one, but the silence is deafening and this building always felt haunted when it wasn’t in use.

You really didn’t want to go home in the dark. You don’t feel safe- not that you ever did, but you were especially tired tonight and you don’t think you’ll be aware and alert enough to be walking home in the dark. But you also don’t think you have it in you to stay in the club until six… if you’re going home, you have to go now. The next bus won’t come for another hour.

Not like leaving in the early morning is any more dangerous than going at midnight. … I think…

Might as well.

You yawn and toss your coat over your shoulders when you hear heavy footsteps approaching.

Even though you could guess who it was, you yelp and drop your bag when you see the Dealer’s large face in front of you.

“Careful, angel. You never know when there’s a greedy monster’s lurking around these parts,” the Dealer laughed, catching your bag and returning it to you. “Of course, it’s always a pleasure to see you but… why are you still here? I thought I told you you could go home early if you wanted.”

“Oh um, yes but… I missed the bus.” You sighed. “There was a guy we needed to kick out, and by the time I looked at the clock I realized I missed the last one.”

The Dealer frowns and tsks. “Those are the kinds of men I wish were upstairs with me instead. Sorry you had to deal with them, beautiful.”

“Th-thanks!” You mumbled. You never knew what to do when he calls you those things… it’s always more respectful than what you’d expect him to say.

“So are you… done… up there…?” You floundered. You didn’t really know what goes on upstairs, just that the Dealer spends all his time up there and you hear what sounds like gunshots but uh… you try not to think about it too hard!

Sometimes it was a bit of a gamble whether or not the Dealer was going to show face at all, usually towards the end of your shift. There are nights when he comes down full of life and beaming his razor-grin, nights when he comes down heaving and ask for an obscene amount of beers, and then other nights where he doesn’t show up at all… and the upstairs is quiet. Jacob tells you that out of all nights not to go upstairs, it would be the quiet ones.

The Dealer smiled sinisterly, grabbing a tissue from over the bar counter and wipes the ends of his teeth.

“... Yes… It was a plenteous one.”

You can’t tell in this lighting. The Dealer’s teeth never looked ‘right. Crooked, sharp, too many, and stained a rusted color, and right now it looks redder than usual. Bright red. Whatever it was, it stained the tissue the Dealer used and it almost looked like…

You swallowed.

“That’s good to hear!” You think? “Thank you Dealer, boss, sir. I have to go now- the bus comes in twenty minutes and it’s a fifteen minute walk from here.”

You don’t know what to call him sometimes. He prefers the name ‘Dealer’ the most, and that’s what most people call him. You don’t think that’s his real name, but no one knows his real name as far as you know, and the man (if he even is one) is cagey about it.

(“Boss? No… just call me Dealer, angel. Everyone does.”

“Is that… your real name?”

“Practically. Besides… I love hearing it from you.”)

“Who are you going with?”

“Um… no one,”

“What?” Dealer scowled, “what about the boy?”

“Jacob had something else to do, he’s not taking the bus my way tonight…”

The dealer strides past you towards the door and opens it wide. A cold, dark street looks back at him. He seems to be thoughtful… then turns to you with conviction.

“... Right, c’mon treasure, I’m coming with.” The Dealer barked, tossing his trench over himself.

“I- really?”

“Yeah. Now what kind of boss would I be if I let a beautiful thing like you walk alone down those streets?”

Your eyes… sparkle. You’re touched. You’ve been dreading the walk home to the point that you almost considered crying in the bathroom until the sun rose, but now that you’re going to have a large, menacing presence lumbering near you, you feel your stress melt away. Even the scariest club goers pale whenever they see his face.

“Th-thank you so much! That’d be great”

He extends his arm towards you like a gentleman. It was almost hilarious how big his arm was, built more like a log. You’re happy to take it.

“Let’s catch that bus of yours, shall we?”

*****

The walk to the bus stop was the most atmospheric it’s ever been. Walking down these streets were always so tense. Granted you only started working at the club only recently, but you don’t think you’ll get used to the walk home in the dark anytime soon. And you’ve had your fair share of walk-home-alones before, and they never get any better no matter how many times you’ve done it. It’s dark, you always need to pay attention and sometimes even that’s not enough. Fast walking, hoping that man behind you isn’t actually following you…

But now, with Dealer next to you? He walked leisurely with a smile. Even hunched over he was the biggest man you’ve ever seen. You felt like you didn’t have to on the lookout, even enjoy the breeze a little.

“Is your home this way too, Dealer?”

“Hm? Oh, no. I’m not going home.”

“...?” You tilt your head at him. “You mean you’re staying at the club?”

“Mhm. Don’t have anywhere else I need to be.”

“... Do you live in the club?”

Though he didn’t have pupils, it looked like the Dealer was looking somewhere else, and his hollow eyes crinkled. “You could say that.”

… Why did he have to be so enigmatic? What does he mean when he says things like that?

“What about you, angel? How’s yours?”

“It’s nothing that fancy,” you laughed awkwardly. “Just the usual shoebox apartment, just a couple of bus stops from here. It’s not the best but…”

You trail off as something catches your eyes. You purse your lips, looking nervously at a group of smoking men in the alleyway. Their eyes were seedy and all of them had an unpleasant scowl, cigarettes stuck between their teeth. You looked away too late, because they turned to glare at you.

It didn’t last long, though.

The Dealer looks over your shoulder and flashes his toothy, red grin.

“Good evening.”

The men’s eyes all widen like saucers and in an instant they scramble out of sight.

… You walked closer to the Dealer and held his arm.

The Dealer chuckles. “You can relax, angel. Those boys won’t bother us.”

“Do you know them?”

“Yes. One of their men died in the club.”

You blink your eyes and shook your head in disbelief. This information, given to you so freely- and the Dealer didn’t seem all that bothered by it.

You bit your lip, thinking about the questions you shoved under the metaphorical bed all this time. You thought about the gunshots you hear from upstairs.

You look up at him.

“Dealer?”

“Yes?”

Rip the bandage off. He doesn’t seem all to bothered by it anyway.

“Can I ask what you usually do upstairs?”

His eyes widened a little, looking more alert. You expect him to react emotionally- not sure in what way, but he doesn’t emote beyond that. It was less like he was upset and more like he was excited.

“I run a game up there. A gambling game. If you’ve noticed, I don’t really pay attention to the club… I have someone else deals with it, I’m simply the de facto owner. The game is where I pour my attention.

“It brings all the gamblers who’s willing to bet their life away, which is most lucrative… not to mention, fun.”

Your brows furrow. The Dealer looks at you knowingly.

“You’re wondering about the gunshots, aren’t you?”

“Yeah…”

“Go ahead, ask.”

The Dealer looks so… unbothered. From the way the other people in the club frown and speak vaguely about it, you thought the Dealer would be equally as secretive about his activities. Thinking back at it, you realized how many players you must’ve encountered on the job- people who walk in disgruntled, sometimes drunk, sometimes just obstinate, almost angrily asking where the ‘roulette’ is. Of course you didn’t know anything about a game, and had to be saved by Jacob who quickly sent them upstairs.

You hem and haw as you ask the question: “So um… those are… were those for the… cheaters…?”

The Dealer laughs.

“Cheaters? No, not most of them. It’s hard to cheat in front of me and get away with only a few gunshots,” the Dealer looks on darkly.

“So… you’re just killing gamblers?”

“It depends on how the game goes whether they die or not, though most at least stand in the doorway of death. But they’re definitely getting shot.”

You would’ve stopped walking right there if you didn’t remember you were trying to catch the bus. The Dealer slows down his walking pace a little for you.

“How can you just say that so easily?” You ask, less judgemental, more genuine, distressed confusion.

“You can only play once you discharge any claims towards me and my parties by signing the waiver. It’s legally binding.”

“So basically them telling you they allow themselves to be shot?”

“Something like that.”

The Dealer summarizes. “It’s a game of roulette, but with a shotgun. Buckshot roulette. We take turns with the gun, either choosing to aim the barrel to yourself or the other player.”

So… it’s like russian roulette, as you know it.

You knew whatever was happening upstairs had death written all over it, but you didn’t know it would be something as harrowing as literally gambling with your life.

You’re shaking a little when you ask again.

“H… have you ever gotten shot?”

You’d guess at least a few times, right? He’s lucky that none of them hit his vital organs or…

The Dealer snrks.

“Lots.”

“... Huh?”

You look again at the edge of his mouth, something glistening under the broken street lamp. He’s still holding the tissue from earlier, crumpled and messy in his fist. … It looks much redder than it was before.

“Defibrillators and blood transfusions work like a charm,” he says matter of factly, winking at you.

… You… you don’t think it works that way???

The Dealer takes one look at your flabbergasted face and laughs.

“It gets my blood pumping… after I get my face blown off. Exhilarating,”

Your mouth hangs open.

“How are you alive after all that?” You cry helplessly, “Are you sure you’re not up there fighting, I don’t know… gang members or something?”

“No, they know not to. They have no reason to, after all. Don’t want to knock on the devil’s door so to speak.”

As you wonder if you’ll ever understand the Dealer’s cryptid wording, you find the only pleasant part of the street. The bus stop was up ahead, sitting in an island of yellow light from a street lamp that was actually upkept. The street itself was empty and silent.

Of course, you didn’t realize how most cleared out as soon as they saw the Dealer.

You run up to the time table and open your phone to check.

You sigh. “Phew, just in time. It’s gonna come here in a bit.”

The Dealer stops short of the street, his shadow long and dark under the light. You turn to him and smile.

“Thank you so much for accompanying me, Dealer,” you say softly and sincerely.

The Dealer blinks owlishly at you. His smile stretches and his cheeks darken a little. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a blush.

To be honest, there was a small part of you that didn’t trust the dealer completely and hoped it wasn’t a ploy for something more nefarious… and it wasn’t. Though now that you think about it again, you were also alone with him in the club, as the others had left earlier. If anything, it’d be the best place to jump you…

You’re glad he wasn’t like that.

You step back when he bends down on one knee. He was still taller than you, and when he places his goliath hand on your shoulder you’re reminded of a parent talking to a child.

“Be careful with your life, ok angel?” He says, his forehead pinched. “I never want to see you lying dead on the ground.”

You give him an appreciative smile. It’s… really sweet, coming from him.

“I will.”

It isn’t much, but he seems reassured by that. He leans in a little and for a brief moment you thought he was about to kiss your forehead, but he braces himself on his knee and stands back up.

You both turn as the bus appears out of the corner, the lights shining into your eyes. It creaks and steams as it stops, and the door folds open. You quickly climb onto it and shiver when you’re blasted by the heater- glad to be out of the cold. You turn to wave at the Dealer, but by the time you do, he’s no longer there.

You stand there dumbfounded as the door closes quietly, and the bus rumbles as it departs. You stare at the lonely bus stop until you can’t see it anymore and finally take one of the many empty seats.

…

Now you’re really questioning whether he’s human or not.

#commission #commissions #dealer buckshot roulette #i love the idea of a dealer who speaks in a softspoken manner #heehe #aka writing

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izvmimi · 1 day

Text

summer masquerade - yuuta x reader

cw: long-distance relationship. canon-compliant. one mention of underage drinking. reader without cursed technique but can see cursed energy. reader implied to be of african descent. assumption that yuuta speaks limited english. a/n: a masquerade is the act of spiritual performance, often to chase away spirits or for political commentary. this starts in the time yuuta spends overseas in africa traveling the continent

A hot summer afternoon, years now in the past, Yuuta Okkotsu first sets eyes on you through the veneer of dust kicked up by frenzied footsteps, soulful ululations and the beating of drums that seemed to never cease, but you’ve been watching him long before he notices you, or at least demonstrates that he’s noticed you. Out of a clay bowl, you’re sipping on palm wine despite being clearly underage, but your parents are far at the other end of the crowd and will not notice, and once you’re deep in the brush, in the less strictly governed remote village where superstition and ritual reign, you’ve decided those kind of silly rules don’t really apply to you anymore. After all, you never want to come to these events, but you come from a family that honors tradition despite living in an ultra-modern mansion in the capital, and thus your presence at the masquerade is indispensable.

But Yuuta Okkotsu’s is not.

The two of you find yourself locked in an unspoken standoff of some sort. It’s difficult to read his expression, but his large dark blue eyes are looking straight at you, barely squinting in the hot overhead sun. You try to discern what he’s saying with his look, if it screams Stop looking at me versus I invite you to speak your mind, before deciding your next move, but it’s quickly evident that your only chance to answer the question is to ask. You hope you don’t look hostile because that’s not your intention in any way but he sticks out terribly, like a sore thumb, with his slightly bronzed but still pale skin, straight dark hair and his hoodie despite the sweltering heat.

He’s clearly a foreigner. It’s not good for foreigners to be at these types of masquerades. Bad juju, you think.

You tut to yourself then sip your drink one more time and decide to approach, wondering if the two languages at your disposal including English, will be sufficient to communicate. Most foreigners understand some English, after all. Yuuta doesn’t learn this from you until years later, but the first time you met him, you’d started wishing you were more worldly, so that you could speak to him in his native tongue, and he would tell you that he wished he was better at yours.

The then-teenager watches you approach with the type of curiosity one offers a person who is not yet a threat but can potentially be. From the way that you’re looking at him, you’re not hostile, and your smile is polite, but it’s not all the way warm, although he can imagine that you do have the capacity to smile warmly, to the right people.

“Hi,” you start. Your voice is honeyed sweet, and he doesn’t reply immediately but his facial expression goes from disaffected to flustered quickly, as though he didn’t actually expect you to walk up to him despite your visual exchange. You tilt your head slightly, wondering if he doesn’t speak English, but quickly you hear another voice next to you.

An older man, African but clearly not your countryman, and he raises an eyebrow at you. You’ll learn later that his name is Miguel, despite being from Kenya, and you won’t ask more details past that.

“Can I help you?” He’s also speaking in English, with a slight British lilt to it. You blink, surprised, then look back at your age-mate then back at him.

“Are you two together?” you ask.

The two of them immediately appear to not be on the same wavelength - one says yes, and the other says no - and you anticipate that it’s like this often. You soon find out that you’re right - Yuuta recounts that those years touring Africa with him were sink or swim, where he was more of an unwitting, hapless intern, rather than a lauded apprentice.

The way Miguel says no at the same time Yuuta says yes makes you giggle loudly, probably due to the warming of your skin from palm wine and your appropriately low tolerance, and Yuuta’s face seems to warm as though empathetically, the blush in his own cheeks less subtle.

Yuuta blushes often, even now, and it will forever be one of your favorite things about him.

“Are you from this village?” Miguel asks. You technically are, but you’re technically not, in some ways as much of a foreigner as they are. He’s information-gathering, clearly, and it intrigues you, but it’s not the only thing that does.

Your eyes draw quickly to the younger person’s hands.

“Yes, but remotely,” you reply to Miguel, then point to Yuuta’s left ring finger.

“You have a contract, don’t you? With a spirit.” you ask, and that simple question is where it all begins.

At the time you knew nothing about cursed energy, nothing about the world Yuuta lived in, that Miguel lived in, that you were just on the periphery of, but one thing was true. You could see spirits, ever since you were young and you could see a particularly strong one, emanating from that ring. Formless, but present and unmistakable. Yuuta looks at you with surprise.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies in accented English. You don’t argue with him, instead turning to the dancers. The masquerade in their elaborate costume has started to whip at people’s feet and many are clearing the compound in fear and laughter. The three of you do not move. There are no real spirits here, aside from the one that is linked to Yuuta Okkotsu.

“I always knew they were frauds,” you joke as you watch the being that’s supposed to dispel evil spirits not turn one glance in your direction. Yuuta doesn’t understand your joke from the furrow in his eyebrow but when he looks at you now, it’s with curiosity rather than apprehension but you’d rather know more about him. He’s the real deal.

—

Miguel doesn’t get as much useful information as he can about your clan as he hopes when your family welcomes him like long lost brethren in your compound in the city just a week later. Yuuta listens intently and speaks carefully, and you wonder how much of it is his personality and how much of it is a language barrier. Miguel drinks all of your father’s finest beer and asks you to fetch groundnuts like you’re his own daughter and it annoys you, a joyous reprieve when your parents ask you to take Yuuta out on the city and come back in a couple of hours. Trailing a Japanese boy on the timid end whose heart and soul is impossibly linked with a monster is not what you’d intended on this summer, but it remains one of the most memorable summers of your life.

He tells you about Rika over skewered suya from the street merchants, and you don’t bat an eyelash as you chew, and tease him about her.

“Will she eat me if I’m too nice to you?”

“Rika doesn’t eat people,” he defends. The spooky monsters of your country are always hungry - eating adults, kids, children, the like. You nod, popping the cap of a bottle of soda on the edge of a table. You miss and pout, and Yuuta, to your surprise, takes it for you, repeating the motion but successfully.

You look at the underside of the cap and lament the lack of prizes. Yuuta watches you drink the soda, and neglects his own malt drink.

“You can keep being nice to me,” he mentions before the night ends, as though the reminder is crucial, as if it hasn’t been hours since you made your joke. Miguel doesn’t hear him, drunk and boisterous, thumping your father’s back a little too hard. Yuuta’s attention is back to his companion before he can notice that your cheeks are warming again, and this time not from the alcohol.

—

Yuuta leaves your country, then soon your continent and you don’t think you’ll ever see him again, just wisps of him every time you see a vengeful spirit in the distance and pray that it behaves before you call onto your family to dispel them, but months pass and you receive that first email.

He’s awkward with his words, a few of his phrases don’t make complete sense and you can tell the thesaurus is up in another internet browser as he asks you how you’re doing, but you reply kindly just the same, and he’s better through text, better still through video chat.

Yuuta starts off telling you little, but soon he doesn’t skimp on the details of his frankly terrifying life and in some ways you wish he would, but Rika protects him and he’s strong in his own right. You learn of all his friends, deaths and not; you learn of all his triumphs and his failures. Your heart flutters with every email, mostly because you're glad he's still alive.

That's just part of it.

Yuuta comes to see you again when you’re on the cusp of turning 21, and it’s the second time he’s come to see you, but the first time he’s come alone, without Miguel flanking, without the pretense of dispelling spirits and getting stronger.

He’s there for you, and only you.

You no longer live in West Africa but instead in Europe, in a small apartment that you’re lucky to afford while furthering your education, and your Japanese is now middling but enough to make him laugh.

He still speaks to you in English, improved over years of vid and voice chat.

“Happy birthday” is whispered over lit candles and followed by your first real kiss.

—

Rika doesn’t eat you, regardless of how kind you are to Yuuta over the next few years.

The day before your wedding, you press your forehead against hers and thank her for protecting him all this time, you thank her for meeting him first. She doesn’t make a single sound, but as you press your hands against her monstrous face, you can feel the wetness of her tears before she vanishes. You’re unsure if she’s just as thankful for you as you are for her, but you love her just the same.

You touch down to the country where you first met just hours later to begin the traditional portion of the wedding and your father asks Yuuta to bring his ‘village’ - Gojo, Miguel, Maki, Toge, Yuuji, Megumi and Nobara, among others, touch down before the end of the night.

Yuuta does not like the taste of palm wine but chases it down with the taste of your lips by the end of the ceremony, which he finds much sweeter.

—

Your wedding band sits in the same spot as Yuuta’s childhood promise ring, one enveloped by the other. You hiss as your ring finger slips and you accidentally drop a box, Yuuta’s faster reflexes catching it before it makes it to the ground.

“Shit, sorry,” you pout and he smiles, patting your cheek gently.

“Just be careful okay, sweetheart?”

You’ve lived in Japan for three years now, settling in two years before you got married and now moving from your first home to this new one. Housewarming gifts abound and are waiting to be unpacked, and you and Yuuta have been working tirelessly to organize everything before your friends burst into your house and ask you why there are boxes settled as high as the ceiling in one corner of your living room.

You glance at Yuuta as he tries to decide the best position for his katana, holding it in his right hand. Finding your way over to rest your chin on his shoulder, you whisper in his ear,

“Let’s take a break, actually.”

Yuuta turns and looks at you, a gentle tilt of the head appraising how serious you are before he chuckles to himself.

“You know, Maki will literally not let us hear the end of it if this place is messy when she gets here.”

Despite this, he’s following you to the couch which is the only piece of furniture you have set up now. The two of you plop down and Yuuta sighs in relief, and soon you’ve rearranged your positions, and your head now lays in his lap as he pets your hair.

A moment passes where the two of you relax, your breaths synchronized as your pulse slow, and then suddenly Yuuta speaks.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” you ask. Your eyes flicker up to his, and he leans down to look at you more closely, a soft smile on his face.

“For approaching me first.”

You blink, then laugh.

“It’s been over a decade.”

“Still thankful,” he replies. You stop, your gaze steadying as you look at him, your heart rate picking up in speed, your soul calling out to him again. There’s an unspoken standoff of some sort, once again, but Yuuta moves first this time, his lips pressing to yours.

If you hadn’t approached him that day, the ten years of your life would have been different. Your chin tilts upward as you kiss him more, your hands cupping his face, then wrapping around his neck.

“I love you.”

Neither first nor in any way expected, but true nonetheless.

#yuuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #daydreams: jjk #mimi's notes

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rowrowrowyourboat13 · 2 days

Text

📱 “ Obsessed? Me? Oh please.”

[ ← Previous | Next → ]

—

y/n would stay seated on the floor with the materials they needed for the project while sukuna would stay seated from the opposite direction from where you were

"if I'm being honest, I don't know how to do this"

Sukuna would scoff before rolling his eyes at your statement

"aren't you the smart one? Figure it out"

"You're also supposed to help, it's called a 'group project' for a reason so help me out."

"are you always this noisy?"

"are you always so bitchy?"

"tch, what do we even do"

"make some sort of collage that has a deep meaning behind it,"

"the fuck? Is our professor trying to see if we're mentally stable or what?"

"you don't look mentally stable for sure.."

You'd mumble in a whisper like tone making sure he wouldn't hear, but of course, he heard.

Y/n would turn her head away but the moment she did sukuna grab a hold of her shirt and pulled her back while his other hand went to go grab her chin to make her face him

"fuck did you say?"

"what? I didn't say anything? You're probably hearing the voices in your head, you look like the type to have those, put me down"

Sukuna would scoff before putting you down like you asked and crossed his arms

"whatever, were making a collage with a deep meaning behind right?"

"mhm yeah"

"just throw in some pictures and make some sad backstory,"

With his example he grabbed two random pictures before throwing it over the canvas

"there, just say it's a kid whose mother died in a car accident and is now being filed for a lawsuit"

"I don't think that's how it works.."

"says who?"

"our profes—"

"hes not here so it doesn't matter."

"I swear.."

—

After HOURS. it's finally done. Y/n would slump down towards his couch before opening her phone to check the time,

"How is it 10pm already..."

"we would've been finished if SOMEONE. wasn't complaining every 5 minutes.

"oh please. You weren't even doing it right."

Sukuna would repeat your works in a mocking and nerdy tone.

Y/n would roll her eyes before groaning

"whatever, I'm gonna head back"

"I hope you get abducted."

"..."

"what? That wasn't me it was probably the voices in your Head"

"fuck you"

"yeah you wish"

Before he could say anything else you were already out the door,

—

Taglist: @catobsessedlady @hellomeow12 @0-candlecove-0 @shivzypuff @swirlingcurses @1-800-choke-that-ho @attackonnat @chilichopsticks @getoxmahito @memenojutsu @uhnanix (comment or say so to be added !!)

A/n: guys mind you it's a slow burn so the er interesting stuff might be in part 3 or 4 🙏🙏 as always u guys can give some criticism!!

#jjk sukuna #jjk smau #jjk ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days

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girl like you 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as kidnapping, marital discord, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: a fight with your husband leads to an unexpected situation.

Characters: Lee Bodecker, Jake Jensen

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

Sheriff Bodecker drives you through the suburbs. You know most of the houses. For five long years you’ve studied it as you worked tirelessly for the HOA, and for what? You don’t get paid. Just like you don’t get anything from your shell of a marriage. How have you spent so long trying to please those who will never be happy?

You sink into your self-pity, vision blurring behind a wall of tears. You flick away the moisture. You can’t cry. Not yet, not here. You sniff and look away from the green hedges and pristine white pickets.

You see the Sheriff’s eyes flick away from the rear view. God, how pathetic.

You clear your throat, dislodging the frog ready to croak, “thank you, sheriff. I won’t be long at the station,” you rub your neck as you lean an elbow on the door, “think I should just call my sister.”

“No problem with me,” he assures as he steers, keeping a lazy foot on the pedal. “Lady like you, you don’t deserve all that. What man chases his wife away like that, huh?”

“Well, you know, it’s just an argument. Marriage, right?” You try to laugh it off even though you know this time is different. You can feel it. You just don’t think you can keep pretending and you’re all done hoping. “You fight, make up, whatever.”

“Hm, yeah, me and the wife... ex-wife, we were the same,” he drawls as turns along Riverview. Riverview? Why the hell is he here? If he’s going into town, he should’ve gone down Walnut. “Think you can guess how that ended.”

He chuckles and you crane your neck to see behind you. Where is he going? You turn forward and sit back. Should you say something? Surely, he’ll realise he’s not paying attention.

“Thing is, can’t keep a woman if you don’t treat her right. Your man isn’t doing that, is he? You dolling yourself up all pretty, going down that little club, and he’s arguing with you in the street,” he sucks his teeth, “no way to treat ya. No way at all.”

He slows and turns into a driveway. You vaguely know the lot. It isn’t the sheriff’s. He rolls towards the garage as the door opens. Your scalp itches as a glaze of sweat rises under your strands. You only realise his scanner hasn’t made a noise. Is he even on duty?

“Sheriff?” You slide forward in the seat.

“Now you sit back, sweetheart, you don’t wanna hit yourself on the cage.”

You blink and put a hand to the barrier, “what’s going on?”

He throws his elbow back into the divider and rattles loudly. You sit back with a gasp as he enters the garage and the door descends behind you. The engine shuts off and the lights on the dashboard all dim. You’re left in stagnant darkness.

“Sheriff,” you whisper.

You squint through gloom and see his shadow. He’s not moving. He just sits there in the front seat. You push yourself forward again.

“Sheriff, what’s--”

The door opens to your left, right next to you and suddenly you’re grabbed by your arm. You’re forced out of the car and an arm swiftly circles your neck as another comes around your stomach. You thrash and wriggle, grabbing at the forearm that traps you.

“Sheriff!” You shriek as terror courses through your veins, ice water zipping through your veins. “Sher--”

“Now, sweetheart, you don’t wanna make all that racket,” the front door opens and the policeman’s sole scuffs, “ain’t no one gonna hear ya in here.”

“Sher--”

“Shut her up!” Bodecker demands.

The arm retracts from around your stomach and a hand covers your mouth. You writhe and swing your arms out, kicking as you try to see the sheriff in front of you. You gnash your teeth together and pinch the palm against your lips. You hear a grunt as the silent accomplice struggles to keep a hold on you.

“Calm down,” the sheriff warns, “we can be nice or we can be... not nice. So, you simmer and we’re all get through this.”

You squeak as the hand against your mouth clamps down, squeezing your jaw until it aches. Your panic swells in your chest as you claw at the body behind you. You continue to blindly stamp your feet, aiming for your invisible assailant.

“You best get her on a leash or I’m gonna have to do it myself,” Bodecker warns and you hear the jostle of his belt.

The other man grunts again, wrestling with you. You twist and swing your elbow back into his ribs. He releases you, staggering back with a startled noise. You hear him crash into something as you scream, “help!”

Before you can get your bearings, a loud crackle snaps in the darkness and a zinging ripples paralyses you. Your legs fold and your muscles all tense then release at once. You collapse to the cold cement and groan as you spasm with the echoes of the current. The tazer cracks again as the electricity flickers in the dark.

“Now, sweetheart, I was being real nice with you,” Bodecker tuts, “but you just don’t know a good thing when it’s right in front of ya, huh? Not after all those years with that deadbeat.”

He clucks and steps over you, “get her up. Gotta get her below before she can start her squawking again.”

You can’t move or speak. You can only twitch as you try to get control of your body. The other man scoops you up, overly gentle despite the situation. You tremble against him as hinges whine loudly. A light radiates from the ground and illuminates the open hatch.

“Gonna need help,” the second man speaks at last.

You recognise his voice and it confirms the property owner’s identity. You remember the lot from more than just the neighbourhood roster. You know Jake Jensen. He installed the surveillance cameras at the public park after a bench was grafitti’d and is a deputy in the neighbourhood watch. He always praised your jello cake at the cookouts.

“J-Jake,” you sputter out.

He says your name in return, almost as surprised as you. Was this not planned because it feels pretty planned. He climbs down the steep steps to the underground and your head lolls against his shoulder.

“Wh-why?” You creak through your sandy throat.

“I’m sorry,” he says but he doesn’t stop.

He carries you forward toward another door. Toward whatever twisted plan these men have in mind for you. Away from the life that doesn't seem so bad in hindsight.

#jake jensen #lee bodecker #dark jake jensen #dark lee bodecker #dark!jake jensen #dark!lee bodecker #jake jensen x reader #lee bodecker x reader #the losers #girl like you #the devil all the time #au #drabble #series #dc

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oneforthemunny · 2 days

Note

2, b, &

for your roll, you've rolled: dom!eddie, diaper position, and belt ;)

minors dni. emotional release spanking, dom/sub themes

"Do you need me to tie them up?" Eddie huffed, one hand holding your ankles in the air, fixing them back into the position you'd kicked out of. "Or can you hold them?"

"I can hold them." You whined through clenched teeth, blinking through tear blurred vision to see him. The belting he'd just started was already leaving you stinging and sniffling.

"Hey, are you sure you're alright?" Eddie stopped, lowering your legs gently, the half folded belt falling limply in his hand.

"Yes." You sniffled, swallowing back snot and tears, trying to keep yourself composed.

"Are you sure?" Eddie leaned forward, a waterfall of curls falling around his face when he towered over you. "Because you're the one who asked me for this. Are you sure- You're good? Right? This is good?"

You had asked him for it. Emotional and needy and desperate for any sort of release. You'd asked him so sweetly, Eddie was sure he was dreaming for a moment. Sliding between your legs, he pushed them up, told you to hold them while he unfastened his belt. It was your least favorite position, he knew that, one that got you wailing easily. He usually saved it for punishments, when you'd been extra bad, but tonight, he was just hoping it would break you quick.

"Yes," You gritted, an edge to your tone this time that had Eddie shooting you a warning glare. "'M fine. I'll keep them up." You muttered, hot tears running down your cheeks. You were close, close to your breaking point.

Wrapping your arms around the back of your calves, you pulled yourself into position, a rush of embarrassment at your exposure that left your chest tight.

Eddie hesitated before stepping back, wrapping the belt back around his hand. "Alright," He nodded, swallowing back his own uncertainty, trying to step back into the domineering role you wanted him in. "Just keep those legs up for me, sweetheart. Don't wanna hit your pretty legs."

Your chest swelled with heat, bubbling with a cry at his sweet words. The feeling of affection was short lived, replaced by prickling, burning pain when the belt striped across the meaty flesh of your ass.

Your nails dug into the skin of your thighs, whimpering with a cry that didn't quite break through. You'd barely registered the pain before a second spank came again, higher this time, hitting the more sensitive skin that had you crying out in pain.

Eddie frowned lightly, listening for the cry he was looking for. When he didn't hear it, he repeated the hit from before, another searing line over the same sensitive spot.

"Oh!" You yelped, legs straightening, nearly kicking him in the process.

Eddie held them up lightly, bringing the belt down again in short successions, hard enough to sting but not quite punishing. You were squirming beneath him, broken sobs coming out until he finally heard it- the wail of a cry, broken and tired, that you both were looking for.

"Hang on, hold on, baby." Eddie cooed, tossing the belt gently onto the ground. He lowered your legs carefully, mindful of your raw skin, a soothing hand sliding over your bare thigh. "C'mere, I know, sweet thing."

You sobbed, a dam broken releasing a floodgate of pent up tears and emotions. You reached for Eddie instinctively, letting him cling to you. Eddie pulled you close, nose rubbing into your wet cheek, under your jaw, pressing a smattering of kisses to the wet, tear stained skin.

"You did so good, so good, baby." Eddie muttered, feeling your face turn into his chest, a muffled sob muted by his t-shirt. "My best girl, aren't you? So good."

Your sobs were beginning to even out, clinging to him just as tightly as before. You knew you looked like a mess, snotty and puffy eyed. Why Eddie looked at you with so much affection when you looked this way, you weren't sure- you had a hunch that the stiffness poking your side had something to do with it, though.

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hihellomy · 2 days

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SAHSRAU IDEA

WARNING:Religious themes, cult themes, semi existencisl crisis, Boothill leaks(backstory)

Now listen ever since Boothill leaks dropped of his backstory i hated the IPC, and then i went on to learn more about them and damn. If Sahsr were real theyd be dead by now.

Like i take my hatred seriously, i just started Topaz's quest and i was nitpicking the most humbling options and the ones that were most pessimistic towards IPC, i decided to not pull ANY IPC CHARACTER, Topaz, Aventurine, Jade, Im not pulling any of them, f the shield and f the treasure, and my love for Boothill is visible, hes the reason i redownloaded (i was still very much in the tutorial part) and kept the game this time, and while my saving could have been bigger(i got a bit greedy on standard pulls) their at 110 with no pity on both character and weapon banner, i am getting that mf

And thew self aware lenses the Astral express is debating, the IPC arent perfect, yes, but they have friends there, they DID help places, but their grace refused to have anything even remotely positive towards them, should they...cut off all ties? If it pleases their grace maybe, and they cant deny how valid your concerns are, they are bad people, they have disapointed their grace, in fact youd be happy if they got wiped wouldnt you? No, youd want them alive. To torture them, and then... For their last breath will serve as a suficient offering

The IPC meanwhile are sweating bullets, some of them are aware of how rotten they are, some genuanly believe they are good, Topaz unfortunatly falls into the second category, she and Numpy are reaching high and low for only the best treasure for your offerings, pleading, begging you to forgive their actions, and maybe you could, if she felt and never looked back, burning away what was left, Aventurine's hands better off being choped off, its vibrating from panic, hes pacing back and forth, chewing on his glowes, can he even leave if he wanted to? who would he turn to? what would he do then? He may have been blessed by Mama Fengu but you... You are anything else, he doesnt like the IPC either but he knows that if you could, youd travel back in time and give him the coldest responses, and death threats behind that beautiful, safe screen. Jade, Miss Jade, Powerful and in control Jade, knew she was the most screwed from the three, it was no secret, what she did to Aventurine, her slaves, they held their usual expressions but she knew they were smilling on the inside, awaiting your rescuse from her hands, she knows turning over a new lief wasnt an option, youd just laugh at the idea she could reddem what she did, all she can do is call Diamond and seek a solution, what else is there

Boothill, Ive never seen him happier, he cant wait for hes release, for you to come pick him up, get him a brand new gun, give him all those thingamagics to make him stronger, to better make you happy, you care so much about him, hes your favorite, he hopes youll be happy w ith his trial and still choose him, hell do his best there! Oh he can already hear and see it all when the prophecy comes true, for when that stupid, cage breaks.... The wedding bells... The little rascals.... He already has a few names planned! Isnt he so great?

#sahsrau #honkai star rail #hsr boothill #boothill x reader #boothill #the IPC #Sahsrau boothill #yandere hsr #yandere boothill

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cookiesandbiscuits · 3 days

Text

Two Left Feet

Pairing: Lucifer x GN!Reader (can be read as platonic)

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You just received your invitation for RAD's annual Acquaintance Ball, but there's a problem: you can't dance. So you turn to the eldest Avatar of the Seven Deadly Sins for help.

A/N: I based this fic on the balls from several historical fantasy webcomics I've been reading. This is basically just Luci tutoring the reader how to waltz (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

Also, if you ask me why a ball, I've always imagined the Devildom as a place inspired by the late 19th-early 20th century, sprinkled with 21st-century things :3 (I'm just obsessed with the era)

Anyways, enjoy!! =w=

Warning: NOT PROOFREAD!!! The reader is referred to as MC

MASTERLIST

Now Playing: Waltz No. 2 by Dmitri Shostakovich

"Ack! Sorry!"

You winced as you felt Lucifer's foot under yours for the umpteenth time today.

"I told you, just relax."

"Right, right... sorry."

You let out a sigh as you make another turn. The two of you have been practicing waltz for a few days now, yet you still kept on stepping on Lucifer's foot while dancing.

You thought about the moment that started all of this.

"Lucifer? Are you here?"

You knocked on the door of his office, hoping that he'd be inside. Luckily for you, he was.

"MC? Come in."

Hearing his voice, you pushed the door open. There, you saw Lucifer who sat on his leather desk chair, holding a cup of coffee. His table was full of paper stacked on top of each other, which was typical. Although you've noticed that the pile was larger than it was before.

"Did I disturb you? I can come back later if you want."

The eldest shook his head, placing the cup on the table. "No, I was just in the middle of my break. Is something the matter?"

He beckoned you to sit down on the sofa, which you did.

"Well... I'd like to ask you something about the upcoming Acquaintance Ball," you spoke while looking down at the invitation that you brought with you.

"Ah, right. I take it you've already received your invitation?"

"Yes, I did. The teacher gave them to the class earlier."

Lucifer hummed. "So? What is it that you'd like to ask?"

"Umm..." you fidgeted in your seat. "When the invitation said "ball", does it mean the balls like those in historical fantasy stories?"

"If you mean the balls similar to the ones held at the castle, rest assured. It is nothing like that at all, although I understand the confusion."

You sighed in relief at Lucifer's words. "Thank goodness–"

"Although there will be dancing involved."

You froze. "D-dance? What... kind of dancing?"

There was a small pause before Lucifer answered. "Since it's a social event, I'd say the popular kinds of dances but ballroom dances like waltz may also be included in the program."

Waltz?! You felt your jaw drop which caused Lucifer to raise his eyebrow.

"Umm... That sounds fun, but I think I'll have to pass."

"Unfortunately for you, since you're a part of the exchange program, you must attend the ball," the eldest replies, instantly shooting down your hopes of bailing out.

"May I ask why you wish to not attend after asking me questions about the ball?" he gave you a questioning look as he took his cup for a sip.

His gaze on you made you squirm in your seat.

"...ance."

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I can't... dance. I don't know how to dance the waltz," you said, averting your gaze from Lucifer's. You can feel the heat spread to your cheeks as he continues to look at you.

"...The decision to add waltz to the program isn't final yet."

"But still...!" You returned your eyes to the demon, your eyebrows furrowed due to anxiety.

"If you're so worried about the waltz, shall I give you lessons to ease your concerns?"

You look at Lucifer, bewildered at his suggestion.

"You're giving me waltz lessons? But... aren't you like, super busy at the moment because of the ball?"

You watched as Lucifer took another sip from his cup.

"Yes, but apart from the program itself, the preparations are almost complete and will be finished after a few more days. Since the night of the ball is still three weeks away, there will be ample time for you to learn the basics."

You can only blink at what he said.

And that's how you got yourself into your current situation.

"MC, focus!"

You flinched at the sound of Lucifer's voice, making you return your attention to what you were doing. Another apology threatened to spill from your lips.

He was, unsurprisingly, a strict teacher. But despite that, he also was caring in his way. And the strict lessons were quite helpful for you to understand the steps.

"...Shall we take a break?" he asks, looking at you with concern. He probably noticed that you were tired, you thought.

You nodded and went to sit on one of the chairs in the room.

"Here."

You look up to Lucifer holding out a bottle of water to you.

"Thanks."

You take the bottle from his hand and scoot over to give him space to sit on.

......

"...Hey, Lucifer?"

You were the first to break the silence.

"What is it?"

"Thanks a lot. You know, for the lessons."

"...You're welcome."

You fiddled with the bottle in your hands. He was a busy man, you were aware of that, yet he still helped you with your small problem.

"I meant it, you know? I'm grateful you're helping me out with my problem, even though your schedule is packed. And you're still helping me out even though I'm a slow learner. I mean, how many times have I stepped on your foot while we're dancing?"

You let out an embarrassed chuckle as you remembered the times you'd stepped on Lucifer's foot while dancing.

"I've taught worse. And you've improved a lot since the first day."

"Really?"

You turned your head in his direction, your eyes scanning the eldest's face for hints of deception. You found none.

"Yes. You've stepped on my feet significantly less than you did in our first lesson."

Oh.

You pouted at the demon's words, making him laugh in amusement. He then gingerly patted your head, ruffling your hair in the process, causing you to pout even more.

"You'll be fine, don't worry."

A gentle smile formed on Lucifer's lips and you can't help but return it as you relished in the comforting warmth of the sight.

Days passed and tonight was the night of the Acquaintance Ball. You took a deep breath before entering the hall where the ball was held.

"MC, over here!"

You look in the direction where the voice came from. In the corner near the entrance were Luke, Simeon, and Solomon. All of them were wearing their formal attire.

"Wow, you guys look great tonight!" you said when you were near enough for them to hear you.

Luke beamed at the compliment. "Hehe, thanks. You look great in your outfit too!"

"Luke's right. Your outfit suits you well, MC," Simeon added.

"Aww, you guys are going to make me blush. Asmo helped me pick my outfit," you say as you look down to check your outfit.

"Well, Asmodeus did have an eye for these kinds of things. Anyway, I think the program's about to start," Solomon remarked, noticing that people had started to walk toward the center of the hall.

Holding out his hand to you, he spoke, "Shall we get going?"

You replied with a smile as you took his hand and followed the people's direction.

"Welcome, our dear students, to the annual Acquaintance Ball of the Royal Academy of Diavolo! This is a night most special indeed, as tonight, we are joined by our very first exchange students from the Celestial Realm and the Human World! We hope that you will enjoy tonight's ball as we form new bonds and meet new acquaintances! But before that, let us give a round of applause for the Crown Prince and the Student Council's President, His Highness, Lord Diavolo's opening speech."

Now that the opening ceremony is finished, people began dancing on the dance floor.

You watched as couples pair up and dance to the rhythm of the music.

"May I have this dance?"

An outstretched hand suddenly appeared in front of you. You looked at the person asking you and smiled.

"It's my pleasure, Lord Diavolo."

The demon prince returned the gesture with a smile of his own.

"Please, there's no need for formalities. Just call me like you used to," he says as the two of you walked towards the dance floor.

"I could never in this situation. Besides, I might get an earful if a certain someone overhears me calling the prince casually," you replied with a wry smile, already imagining the lecture you'll get if Lucifer or Mephisto knew you called Diavolo with the nickname you gave him during this formal event.

"Haha, we can't have that, can we?" The prince grinned as he twirled you in time with the music.

"Speaking of which, I've heard that Lucifer taught you how to waltz."

"Oh, yes. He's a wonderful teacher. I still can't believe how he managed to teach someone with two left feet like me how to dance like this at all, especially since he's also busy handling the preparations for this ball."

"Well, it is Lucifer, after all. He always does things perfectly. But it's not only because of him, but also because you're determined to learn." Diavolo smiled once again and bows as the music reaches its end.

You curtsied in return. "Thank you for the wonderful dance and compliment, My Lord."

You got a few more dance requests after that. Some were the brothers, some were your fellow exchange students, while the others were demons eager to make your acquaintance.

By the time you were done, your body was basically screaming for rest. So you politely declined the incoming requests and head to the balcony for some fresh air.

The cool Devildom breeze gently caressed your skin, making your body relax instantly. You took in the serene scenery of the night, watching the twinkling stars of the night sky and the soft lights of the town below merge into one picturesque sight.

"Taking a break?"

You turned to the door where to voice came from. There stood Lucifer, donning his demon form in all of its glory.

"Oh, yes. How about you?"

"Same as you," says the Avatar of Pride as he joined you in the balcony.

The space between you was filled in comfortable silence before Lucifer spoke once again.

"How's your night going for you?"

"It's fun. Tiring, but fun."

"I see. That's good then."

.....

"Hey, Lucifer?"

"Yes?"

"I know I already said my thanks, but I really couldn't have enjoyed this night without your help. Thank you."

"...You're welcome."

The two of you looked at each other and smiled before turning back to watch the night pass by.

#Spotify #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer fluff #obey me x reader #x platonic!reader #cookie writings #two posts in one night whoo!!

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