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#like the bar is really damn low
vitasexualiiis · 6 months
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dont get me wrong i love that fukuzawa is all about personal freedom, including with his employees, but let us not kid ourselves that this personal freedom comes at the cost of tanizaki and kunikida's mental and physical wellbeing 👀
yosano and dazai (him to a lesser extent, but the way he treats kunikida is like ??? yo shachou...you're just gonna let that happen to your devoted employee? ok ok sure) are kinda seriously off-leash in the WORST way???
and like, YEAH it's funny as a reader but like......your employees deserve to not be harassed into panic attacks on company premises...and also possibly...PERHAPS...correct me if *I'M* being the asshole here...the option to NOT DIE without being brutally tortured...
like...maybe you should...step in...my guy...my dude...
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i really need to stop going into the notes of serious posts because the we should piss on the poor reading comprehension mixed with the confidence to argue passionately about something you know nothing about and the absolute fucking audacity on this website is killing my braincells and i have only three they need protection
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dustjacketmusings · 10 months
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Anyway back on kresley cole bullshit because her books are the weirdest combo of the worst of paranormal tropes - just having the most time with gender dichotomy- and simultaneously goes out of their way to make sure every woman has friends, and goals, and the unvillainized option to not be with a man
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off-center-milk · 2 years
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Long Post About Eddie and Chrissy
I've been watching stranger things s4 and i have a few thoughts pertaining to Eddie and more specifically his few interactions with chrissy and even More specifically, how my mother and I both reacted to them. The first time they interact on screen is their deal in the woods, I believe. We can tell chrissy is out of it, nervous, just generally not feeling well and she gets spooked by Eddie. He notices and immediately goes to lighten the situation, telling jokes, messing around, etc. But (and this is all from what I remember, mind you) it seems he does a very deliberate job of trying not to do anything that could upset or frighten her. As she is, a teenage girl, all alone in the woods with a guy undoubtedly taller than her, in the middle of a drug deal. All of those factors alone would make it bad, but then you add on her already fragile mental state. Yeah. But (and once again, this is my opinion) Eddie comforts her without being Weird to her. It doesn't come off like he might be trying to get into her pants later on. He just wants to calm her down so he can make his sale and go home. So now for a bit of context I am afab, iykyk. And so seeing the premise for this scene and not knowing much about Eddie, I was immediately like 'Chrissy no, Chrissy pls get out of there, Chrisyy whyyy" and my mom had a similar reaction. But after watching and then rewatching the scene it is Apparant to me that Eddie had no intent or ill will towards Chrissy. However, given my life experience and the scenes situation, I immediately had alarm bells going off. Anyways I think this is to say we need perhaps more scenes in TV and movies where a male and female characters are alone and there isn't anything outside of platonic friendliness. Let them just be friends, acquaintances even. I think this point is really highlighted by how Robin and Steve both interact with Nancy. Several times over they tell her that they're just friends, in fear of her misinterpreting. Although I really enjoyed Eddie and Chrissys few interactions, they all had me very worried for her. And to be honest I think it's extremely pathetic that I live in the year 2022 and still get worried for female characters when they're alone with men. Final disclosure I'm sorry for the long post I just really needed to comment about it. Also sorry if my cadence over text seems weird, I don't know why I'm like this either. Also also also, I know that sexual violence is not a women's only issue, and that it pertains to everyone. I wasn't sure how to properly word this without such heavy gendered language, it's 12 am right now so I'll probably come back and add on in the morning. Really hoping this isn't a completely asinine or commonplace take, it just kept bothering me. Tysm for reading, have a lovely evening.
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desertdragon · 2 months
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T/////Eight story amounted to basically nothing so I guess I'm back here to the other stupid as shit game I give too many chances on a more full time basis again (minus still writing my As///u/////Lil////i fic I love that thing too much and people in my DMs are counting on me for more)
At least I'll always have my friend and her best ending
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And her faggot
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EDIT: Ok it was nonsensical and full of holes like swiss cheese but now that i've calmed down this was always a goofy silly dumb game that cares less about taking itself seriously as it does being cool and fun, so while im disappointed and im allowed to be disappointed, im not running away with my expectations on this like others have. Tekken is still fun and will always have a place in my heart. And I do appreciate receiving some things I've always wanted regardless of my upsets with their execution flaws. They were finally able to make me feel like my favorite characters have closure on some level regardless, and that has to be commended.
#devastated. i'm devastated. the one time i was hoping Bamco would give us a decently written feast without shitting the bed#on the one hand i'm a fool for thinking they'd ever not write utter nonsense on the other hand i did get a handful of things i wanted#and i'm ok w going back to not really taking it seriously but it feels like even when i got things i wanted or liked#the WAY they were given to me was so shit i almost wish i got nothing#also this game has the best Asuka ending for once but that's such a low bar- it's the only ending where she's finally happy#god it wasn't even a story it was a skeleton of a script with ten different ppl working in separate rooms only coming out sometimes#to keep Jin on track and even with him as lead he got half baked shit- ALSO JUN??? JUN??? THE WAY THEY DROPPED THE JUN BALL#THE WAY WE GOT NEW CHARACTERS BUT NONE WERE LEGIT EXPLAINED OR GIVEN BACKSTORY? aaaaaughgghghhghghggh#telling everyone here bc i can't put spoilers on my main dash rn since it's not officially out for all platforms yet the PS5 ppl got theirs#and they streamed/posted all the cutscenes and character episodes days early so i saw it on youtube bc im impatient#i know none of you here give a shit lmao#ALSO THE MAIN BRANCH OF THE ******** FAMILY BEING REVEALED AS WIPED OUT BUT ASUKA HAS NOTHING TO SAY ABT IT- HARADDAAAAAAA#it's a fun game to play as a fighting game but dear god anything else you're in the trenches THE TRENCHES#i'm still arguing w myself if i'm gonna buy it once the recent global strike for Palestine is over or if i wait for a steam sale#once again collecting the less than ten things i like abt something and mourning the rest#this is my asuka alt in the pic btw I'll always love asuka goofy or serious but damn girl... I'm so sorry#i liked the ending of T8 but how we got there is borderline nonsensical and contrived#and at the expense of consistent character depth for pretty much anyone#EDIT: YES IM DISAPPOINTED BUT- this has always been The Goofy Game and i accept that now and yes i got things i loved and i love them#this is a game that has never taken itself seriously before anything else- which isn't the same as a serious game dropping the ball ie. FF#so in the end i'm mixed! i have what i don't like and what i think was missed- but i like it for what it is and i LOVE Asuka's potential#i love that in this game Asuka is finally at some form of peace regardless of the holes in the execution
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loveindefinitely · 1 month
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task force 141 with a controversially young civilian girlfriend.
-> mentions of large age-gaps, referenced sexual content, alcohol use. afab!fem!reader. minor dubcon (everyone's drunk.)
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thinking that you're studying in uni. working on the side to try and afford rent and, if you're lucky, some noodles every other night. you don't really get seen compared to your friends, who go out clubbing and spend their spare time on dating apps.
one time, your friend drags you to a bar. not usually your scene, considering its clientele is more for tradies, and military-type men. not like the stuck-up blue collar boys at your uni.
cue you getting drunk off your ass, barely even standing, when you bump into one johhny mactavish.
he holds your elbows, your chest crashing into his. gentle with it, too -- kind and sweet and grounding.
"y'alright, lass?" he asks, a small smirk on his face, eyes darting across your frame greedily. he, in all fairness, looks nearly as drunk as you. he stumbles a little with your weight.
you giggle, tilting your head to look at him. say something stupid like, "you don't look like a student."
his brows raise, his dimples deepen. "aye, very smart, hen."
you preen with the compliment, a cheesy grin stuck to your face. you make no move to stand up and leave. you think your friend just left with a guy anyways.
johnny moves you, muscled arm around your waist as he takes you to a booth.
three other men sit in it, only one looking somewhere in a ten-year age bracket to you. they're all impossibly large, filling out the space with ease. your stomach swoops, but you easily blame the alcohol.
manoeuvring you so you sit in his lap, johnny's hand is a comforting weight on your waist. he huffs a laugh.
"didn't realise we were goin' for jailbait, soap," the youngest one chimes, dark features shining in the pub's dim light. his eyes trail your frame silkily.
you can't stop the roll of your eyes -- your inhibitions have made you senseless. "'m not, 'm completely," you drag out the syllables, "legal."
a hand on your thigh makes you jolt, and when you look over, a blonde man with a black medical mask raises an unimpressed brow. "got a problem, kid?"
you shoot him a weak glare. "not a kid. weirdo."
the arm around your waist tightens, as does the weirdo's hand encompassing your thigh.
"not scared of anythin', are you darl'?" the final man in the booth asks, hands folded together where they rest at the table. he looks at least double your age, and that simple fact along with his drawling words has your core tightening.
"what's there to be scared of?" you ask, stupidly. your head tilts to the side, unknowingly moving to rest on johnny's shoulder. he doesn't comment.
"miss bein' young and drunk," gaz sighs, hand softly gripping the gin sat on the table in front of him.
"you look young," your brows furrow, not understanding. how old could he really be, to act so nostalgic of your current predicament? "how old are you guys?"
it's an embarrassing question -- makes you feel like a child all over again. but your interest is quickly peaking, and your need for answers overpowers your need for decorum.
johnny's the one to answer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers.
"gaz, the pretty one over there, he's twenty-eight," he murmurs, heat stirring low in your gut as you nod mindlessly, meeting gaz's eyes.
johnny stokes his thumb over the skin of your hip, and you curl into him further -- stranger be damned.
"i'm thirty," he hums, and god, he sounds so fucking sensual you're about to melt into his arms. if you aren't already.
"the guy in the mask?" said man's hand tightens impossibly against your skin, fingers just shy of grazing your aching pussy, "he's thirty-seven. got a lot of experience, aye?"
you shudder.
"what about you?" you end up voicing, shyly meeting the last man's gaze. he takes a slow sip of his whiskey.
he leans back into the cushion, eyeing you carefully.
"forty-three."
your thighs squeeze together, and fuck, if that's not a turn-on. no matter how unsafe you should feel, surrounded by four military-grade, older men, it only manages to have you wet beyond belief.
all you can manage is one question.
"take me home?"
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glitterhoof · 7 months
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fighting the war on jaded pokémon fans on the side of jaded pokémon fans
#awn the intercom#you know what i am proud to be if this is now the group i am pushed into . YES IM STILL MAD LEAVE ME ALONE WAAH#MODERN POKEMON ENJOYERS WHEN THE BRILLIANT DIAMOND REMAKES ENTER THE CHAT :#im becoming yomiel. three long years of the same damn animations. three long years of the story repeating and becoming duller#isn’t it funny how a Zelda game can give you the same damn plotline fourteen thousand times and still be unique and somehow. SOMEHOW#POKÉMON JUST . JUST … is this an apple and orange comparison. maybe.#this isn’t about scarlet and violet I’ve never played it I am in the mindset of pre scarlet violet .#Oh also legends arceus makes no sense . Never played it but commercials and pictures alone uhmmmmm#That’s now how …. Ancestors …. And genetics…. Work …..#I’m pretty sure it’s non canon so I’m not worried. BUT IF IT IS CANON IM WALKING MY ASS OVER TO GAMEFREQK HQ AND [ legal joke here ]#maybe im jaded for not liking the stagnant animations . maybe im a little silly for complaining about a pokémon story.#BUT U KNOW WHAT. FOR SIXTY FUCKING DOLLARS I WILL BE !!#WE ARE NOT IMMUNE TO GAME CRITISISCM! WHEN WILL WE STOP SHIELDING FLAWS IN OUR PRECIOUS GAMES AND BRINGING LIGHT TO ITS MISTAKES#THE MORE WE SUCK ON TRIPLE A DEVLOPERS DICK THE MORE THEY PRODUCE MEDIOCRE CONTENT#THE BAR OF EXPECTATIONS FOR POKÉMON FANS ARE SO LOW . IS IT WRONG 2 DEMAND SOMETHING LOOK ALIVE#AUHHHHHHGHGGGHGHGHGG [ explodes ]#and to be clear. this is not to shit on underpaid workers.#BUT IT IS TO SHIT ON MULTI MILLION DOLLAR GAME COMPANIES WHO KNOW THERE WILL BE PEOPLE TO SPEND MONEY ON THEM REGARDLESS OF QUALITY !#REVOLUTIONIZE!!!!!!!!! WE MUST NOT STAY SILENCED!!!!#[ steps off podium ] tag rant over. sorry im really frustrated still actually.
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huskersbooze · 11 days
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Who's in Control?
Alastor x Reader
| Part 1(here!) | Part 2 | Part 3 |
Summary : You sold your soul to Alastor and had no idea how big of a deal this was. Until recently, you finally learn what it means, and realize all that Alastor had been doing was just a lie.. or was it?
Pairing : Alastor x F!Reader, Huskerdust? (M!Reader here, Gn!Reader here)
Warnings : swear words
Additional Tags : Angst, miscommunication, misunderstandings, Alastor actually being nice?!, no use of (Y/n)
Ib : Who's in Control By Set It Off
Word count : 1.8k
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"Good morning, dear."
"Morning, Al." You reach the lobby and take a seat on the floor next to Alastor's chair.
"How was your sleep, darling?"
"It was good! And yours?"
"Aha, hilarious, really. You know I don't sleep, my dear." He places a hand on your head and gives your hair a ruffle. "You really do know how to brighten my day."
The rest of the team reaches the lobby, and you all gather around for your daily dose of trust exercises.
-----
You and Alastor had been growing closer and closer ever since your arrival at the hotel. There was no doubt that he was your favourite person there.
And, well, for Alastor, he never wanted to admit it, but everyone in the hotel could tell, and even he was aware.
He was growing a soft-spot for you.
It was never supposed to be this way. He was never meant to grow attached. It just somehow happened, and that was that.
Everything between you two was going great. Except for that one little issue that bothered Alastor.. but you didn’t have to know. He never tried to abuse any of that power when he asked for your soul. He never thought of doing anything to you.
But there comes a time in every relationship where a lie can ruin it all.
“Hey, sugar. How ya’ doin’?” Angel Dust leans by the bar counter, greeting you as usual.
“I'm doing decent. Husk and I were just talking about you.”
“We were fuckin’ not!” You watch as the cat's ears twitch, the drink he was originally pouring tipping over.
“Oh, really? No need ta’ lie Husky~” You laugh at Angel's teasing, which makes Husk let out a low growl. “At least I don't gawk over a certain demon so obviously.”
“Hey! Are you talking about me and Al?”
“Who else would he be talkin’ about?” Angel tilts his head to the side, giving you a knowing glare. “Ya’ can't even deny it.”
“Al and I are just friends.”
“Kid, Angel's right.” The cat can only do so much but sigh. “You don't know him as well as I do. He treats you differently.”
“Still, we're just friends-”
“The Radio Demon doesn't do ‘friends’, kid.”
“Yeah, well, he owns my soul. Of course he'd treat me differently.”
The way it so simply came out of your mouth like it wasn't some big deal. Both Husker and Angel Dust froze in place, staring at you wide-eyed.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“What.. what did you just say?” The spider can hardly comprehend the news you'd just dropped.
“He owns my soul..?”
“Kid. What the actual fuck?!”
“What the fuck did he do to you?! Ya’ alright?! Are you hurt?”
You watch as the two demons skim your body up and down, firing questions at you, checking up to make sure you weren't hurt.
But you were confused.
“What's going on? Why are you guys suddenly acting so strange?”
“Wh- Why did you sell ya’ soul to him?!”
“Fuck I knew he was up to no good!”
“He told me by selling my soul to him he'd protect me from everything and anything at all cost. I didn't see a reason to decline?” You reply to Angel's question, ignoring Husk as he mutters about himself being correct. “I got nothing to lose.”
“Ya’ got everything to lose, shitass.” You hear his voice start to crack slightly as you realise tears welling up in his eyes.
“Angel?! Hey, what's wrong?”
“Damn, kid. You really don't know shit, huh?”
“About..?”
“What it means to sell your soul.”
“I know what it means, Al said-”
“Forget that fucker.” Husk practically spits out his name. “D'you know why I work here at the bar?”
“Because you like your job..?”
“No. It’s because I was forced by the person I sold my soul to.”
“Who..?”
“Hell, kid.. you really can't take a hint?”
And just like that, he says one more name, and your whole world comes tumbling down on you.
He didn't actually care for you, he was just shaping you in case you came to use.
He didn't actually enjoy your company, he was just watching you to make sure you were obedient.
He didn't actually mean any of the things he said. He was just trying to manipulate you.
And you were so damn lost. So damn lost as to whether the control and power you thought you had, really belonged to you.
“Valentino is an overlord.. and he's your boss?”
“Yup.” Angel nods.
“And he owns your soul like Al owns Husk’s?”
“Exactly.” Husk replies.
“And there's no escaping this contract..?”
“No.” The two reply together.
“Fuck.”
-----
“Greetings, my dear! How are you on this fine morning?” The static sounds from Alastor's usual seat at the lobby where you all gather every morning.
There's that usual smile etched on his face, which, you used to believe looked genuine when he was talking to you, but it seemed that wasn't the case.
“Hey, Husk. Hey, Angel.” You greet the two on the couch, completely passing by Alastor and ignoring his whole existence. “Mind if I sit?”
“Yeah, go ahead.” Angel scoots over and makes space for you to squeeze between Husk and himself. “Ya’ look like hell.”
“You alright, kid?”
“Couldn't sleep much last night, but I'm fine.” You reassure them.
The rest of the crew were a bit startled at your display, knowing well that you refused to not sit by Alastor's chair, normally.
And here you were, ignoring him completely like he was no longer relevant, and hanging with the other two demons.
“Okay.. what an interesting way to start the morning!” Charlie tries to break the ice.
Everyone turns their attention towards her.
Everyone but Alastor.
He was practically fuming with rage, anger, irritation, but yet, a tiny bit of worry.
How dare you ignore the Radio Demon like he was some piece of useless trash?
But then again.. why were you suddenly acting so cold and distant? What did he do wrong?
He couldn't help but focus his attention on you throughout the entire day, but you didn't even spare him a single glance.
Needless to say, you felt a knock on your door that night.
“Darling, how wonderful to see you! Wonderful, really. Mind if I come in?”
“A little. What do you need, Alastor?” You stand at the door frame, hand still on the door handle, prepared to slam the door in case anything happens.
Meanwhile, Alastor was pissed. You had never rejected inviting him in for late night chatting, in fact, you never rejected anything from him.
“It's nothing, really. I just hoped to have a friendly little chat with you, if that's alright?” Alastor leans down to your level, tilting his head and giving you his usual smile he reserved for you, and you only.
“A bit busy. Maybe next time.” You attempt to close the door, but a hand swoops in and, damn, was he strong.
“Dear, what seems to be the issue?”
“I’m really busy, Alastor.” You sigh. His ears twitch at the name. Where were all his sweet little nicknames? Why were you only referring to him by his full name?
“Clearly, something is wrong, and I ought to find out what I had done to deserve such treatment.” He states, making himself welcome in your room. “Talk to me, darling.”
“Oh enough with the pet names, I’m not your fucking pet.” You roll your eyes, closing the door behind you to make sure no one stumbles upon your little predicament.
Alastor stiffens, then laughs.
“Whatever are you talking about, dear? Of course you’re not my pet.”
“The damn contract says otherwise..” You watch as Alastor shifts uncomfortably, his back still facing you. “I should’ve known you just wanted another soul. Fuck you, Alastor.”
You continue on about how you never should’ve trusted him, and how you finally knew about everything so there was no point in him pretending to tolerate you.
Alastor, however, could barely process anything you were saying. He could hear his own static in his own head, and it was growing louder and louder.
What the fuck was happening? How did you know? What did he ever do? Where did he go wrong..?
“Darling, please.. You don’t understand-” The radio filter in his voice was off, his actual voice coming out as a soft plea.
Taken aback, you stopped talking. Alastor turned to face you, smile still etched high and proud, but his eyes looked like he was about to break.
“Alastor..” You murmur. “I just don’t think I can trust you anymore. I’m sorry.”
“When have I ever used any of that power on you?!” Alastor snaps, eyes darting all over the place, trying to find out what to do to fix all this. “I’ve been nothing but nice! I.. I helped you when you were in trouble! I did nothing to hurt you..”
You watch as Alastor starts losing his usual composure, having it slowly drifting away.. It was heartbreaking seeing him like this, but you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him and pretend nothing happened.
“It doesn’t matter when you’re in control..”
“No.. darling, no! You’re in control!” He scrambles, grabbing you by the shoulders.
“Really? I’m not sure I trust any of that bullshit anymore.”
“Dear, please, listen to me..!”
“I'm sorry, Al.. I think it's best if you leave.”
He pauses.
“Have a good sleep, dear.” He says, voice filter completely off. It was a rare occasion getting to hear his sweet voice. Too bad it had to be under such circumstances.
-----
“Oh my, Alastor, what's got your ears pinned back?” Rosie leads her friend through the halls and has him take a seat opposite of her. “Is everything alright?”
“No.. no it's not.” He replies. “She found out.”
“About the deal?”
“No, Rosie. No.” He sighs. “She found out what selling her soul to me actually permits me.”
“But you never wanted to abuse that power, did you?”
“Of course not.”
“Then, I'm assuming you didn't tell her?”
“No.”
“Well, why not?”
“Would it make a difference?" She could practically hear him scoff. "She's irritated at me as is. It's not like she'd even heed my words."
“Come, now, Alastor. You know as well as I that the sweetheart would listen.” Rosie tuts, waving a hand at him.
“She doesn't need to know how powerful she actually is.. she doesn't need to know her soul is being gambled this very second.”
Alastor sighs, getting up from his chair.
“Thank you for your kind words, Rosie. I shall take my leave now.”
“Take care, Alastor.” She smiles. “I'm sure she'll understand.”
“I surely hope you're correct."
———/ TBC. /———
READ PART 2 HERE
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lxkeee · 26 days
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HEAVEN AND BACK!
—PART TWO
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Alastor's Mom! Angel! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Genre: Romance, love at first sight.
Warnings: none.
Notes: this one is comparably shorter than chapter one.
PART ONE | PART THREE
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Lucifer was absolutely baffled, so many things happened in one day. First, a very gorgeous and tall seraphim angel decided to come and stay at the hotel to oversee its progress and on top of all that, the said angel is that damn radio demon's mother.
Lucifer watches as the angel, who he learned that goes by the name [y/n] is still currently scolding her son. Him, Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, and Husk are at the bar area just watching it unfold.
Alastor sitting on the couch, head hung low in shame but there's still a smile on his face.
“So... You killed your father and many more? And also ate them....?” [y/n] asked, disappointed in her voice. Alastor's deer ears lay flat as he remained seated as he listened to his mother.
“Oh god, my son is a cannibal!” [y/n] cries, Niffty wiping away her tears as [y/n] carried the smaller girl in her arms—how did it happen? She just somehow was raising her arms for uppies while the taller woman was scolding her boss and the older woman just did so without thinking and carried her and then resumed to scolding Alastor.
“But they deserved it, mother! He deserved it for—” Alastor tried to defend himself, his smile strained.
[Y/n]'s own smile widened, eye twitching, “Who said you could speak? My own son is talking back to me!” she cries, smiling through the tears, her wings puffed up in anger and Alastor shuts up his mouth immediately.
“Where did I go wrong in raising you? I didn't raise you like this.” [y/n] sobs, Niffty handing her a handkerchief where the taller woman accepted and used it to blow her nose.
“Yikes.” Lucifer muttered in amusement as he sipped his dry martini while watching the angelic woman continuing to scold Alastor. Now that's my kind of woman. He thought before almost choking his drink. Hold up. What is wrong with him today? He barely knew the woman and he is already thinking like this.
“You okay there pal? I'm pretty sure you almost choked on your drink.” Angel Dust laughs and Lucifer just glares at him.
Charlie giggles beside him excitedly, “Isn't it amazing? Alastor reunited with his mom! And heaven finally decided to help us!” Charlie squeals and Vaggie hums in agreement.
“Well... It surely isn't a happy one as smile's is getting scolded even more.” Angel Dusts laughs and Husk chuckles behind the counter.
Back to the mother and son, Alastor is finally done with seeing his mother cry. He hugged her in which the older woman was weakly hitting his chest while she sniffled. Niffty being pressed in-between the two. She's just glad to be there.
“I am sorry, mother. I'm still your son.“ Alastor says softly and [y/n] sniffled against her son's embrace.
“I'm still mad at you.” she says, and Alastor's smile widens every slightly, “I know.” he says with a grin before getting his forehead flicked once more by his mother, making him winced in pain. [Y/n] gently lowering Niffty down to the floor. Lucifer and Husk snickering at the bar area.
[Y/n] pouted as she finally left her son's embrace, “And here I was waiting in heaven for so long wondering what's taking you so long and only for you to be here in hell? My goodness...” [y/n] sighs, pinching her own nose, her other hand on her hip.
“My bad.” Alastor says with a grin and [y/n] sighs, wiping the tears away from her eyes then clapping her hands together and a smile is back on her face as she turns around to look at the other hotel crew.
“Well, I suppose that is over. I am sorry for the scene I've caused, this young man right here is to blame.” [y/n] deadpans, pointing her arms towards Alastor who was lounging on the couch, he just gave a thumbs up.
[Y/n] sighs, shaking her head. “Back to business, I myself am not really sure why Sera decided to change her mind but she's my boss so... I don't really have a choice.” [y/n] says with a shrug, smoothly lying to them and the others just look at her with a slight deadpanned expression.
“I will be staying here for the time being, Sera didn't exactly say for how long...” She says before her eyes widened, Sera really didn't tell her how long she'll be here.
“I am starting to wonder if I accidentally got myself kicked out of heaven.” She muttered and Lucifer snickered slightly, looking at her with an amused smile on his face.
“Well if that's the case, there's a space made just for you in hell.” Lucifer says smoothly and [y/n] smirked, “My... Special treatment for lil' ol' me by the king of hell himself? It would be an honor.” she says with a small smirk, approaching the bar area and standing in front of the sitting man, looking down on him.
“I feel like they're each other's types.” Angel Dust whispers to Vaggie in which he gets elbowed to the side by the fallen exorcist.
Alastor's eye twitched in annoyance as he watched the scene unfold, not my mother. Speed walking to the two, Alastor held his mother's shoulders protectively and slid her away from the king of hell.
“Alastor, dear... I can handle myself.” [y/n] chuckles and Alastor just smiled, though his smile strained a little bit. Clearly annoyed how the king of hell is getting smooth with his mother.
“I'll be showing my mother around and show her to her room. Please excuse us.” Alastor says as he gently drags [y/n] with him upstairs with Niffty following the two.
The others just watched in amusement, still hearing the two's slowly muffling voices as they left the room.
“Mama please, he's the king of hell. Why are you already getting so chummy with him?” Alastor's muffled voice can be heard as they walk away.
“Have you seen him, Alastor? Heaven's scrolls didn't do him any justice, he's gorgeous!” [y/n] says with a laugh and a followed groan from Alastor. Their voices can no longer be heard as they were getting farther and farther away.
Angel Dust nudges Lucifer and wiggles his eyebrows at the short king, the arachnid teasing the man as he can really see Lucifer's flustered cheeks.
“You two looked nice together, you better shoot your shot.” Angel Dust says with a smirk which prompted Lucifer to stammer.
“Huh? What? I just met her for God's sake!” Lucifer says, pulling his collar away from his throat as he awkwardly chuckles.
“Please... Everyone can see you were eyeing her like a piece of candy.” Husk says gruffly behind the counter, scoffing.
Lucifer blushed, nervous that he wasn't slicked at all.
“Can't blame him to be honest.” Charlie says with a chuckle as she sipped her wine. Vaggie just rolls her eyes playfully, “Still, she's suspicious.” she says and Angel Dust scoffs, “Please, when are you not? Besides, if you ever end up right, I'm sure short king over here can handle her.” He says with a shrug before smirking at Lucifer, “Just admit you were admiring the sexy angel lady, couldn't blame ya toots!” he giggles.
“I wasn't... You guys are just seeing things.” he deadpans, his ears tinted pink. His daughter, Maggie, Angel Dust, and Husk just gave him a raised eyebrow. Clearly not believing him in the slightest.
“Whatever you say, short king.” Angel Dust says in amusement.
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TAGLIST:
@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @yukichan67 @apple-pop @akiralovespenguins @storydays @kaurochika @amphiroxx @lil-writer-523 @punching-pentagrams @moonlovers34 @h3110kitty0 @bethleeham @hcneyiced @ashleygryffindor @ghostdoodlen @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @cupidsgift @shilladodo
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husbandhoshi · 1 month
Text
[9:47 AM] *suggestive
the first thing you learn about seungcheol is that his towels are embroidered. csc, they read, in gold thread on absurdly plush bath towels.
(actually, the first thing you learned about him was that he's a good kisser. you learned this the hard way, outside the bar, after all your friends had gone home and it just was you, him, and his tongue in your mouth.)
as a rule, you try not to learn anything about your late night escapades, but, evidently, you have already failed.
it's easy to notice his bathroom looks much bigger than it did last night, now that all the lights are on. he has not one, but two, matching rugs, and the sconce lights make the marble countertop look like it's made of water. nestled in the corner is a little tray with all his cologne lined up end to end—armani, dior, chanel.
you pick up the silvery one on the end and smell the cap. (yes, this one. he was wearing this one last night, right in the space where his collarbone met the base of his neck. you had kissed him there, and he had asked you to go home with him. creed, aventus, it says.)
he even has the drunk elephant moisturizer, although it looks criminally underused. it sits among a small pile of skincare that looks like it costs twice your monthly paycheck, if you had worked overtime.
you have to remind yourself you're not here to snoop through rich people's bathrooms, as fun as that sounds.
seungcheol was a quick fuck (and a really good one at that), but you already feel like you've overstayed your welcome.
the plan—in and out. you hate the sticky, too-warm goodbyes, the small talk at the kitchen table, the unexpected rattle of a roommate coming home. worst of all, they never want you as badly in the morning as they did the night before.
but the plan has already gone to shit. you woke up practically spooning him and your little bathroom detour cost you ten minutes. and it's almost 10, which is what he has his two-hundred dollar alarm clock set to.
you shut the bathroom door as quietly as you can, hoping to make a quick getaway. but it's here, caught in the waxy overcast from the huge windows, where, for the first time in your life, you almost want to say fuck the plan.
"morning," seungcheol hums, propping himself up on the bed. you take one look at him, shirtless and sweats slung low, and you lose the plot entirely.
yesterday, when you had met, it looked like he was made in some kind of factory for hot men—starched white shirt rolled to the forearms, hair perfectly gelled, and a fat breitling watch hugging his wrist. and yet, as you watch him blow a cowlick out of his eyes, he seems even more attractive, which you would have never thought possible.
"someone's eager to get outta here," he says, enjoying the way you avoid his eyes. "don't tell me it was that bad for you."
you smile nervously. what you can remember about last night is that it was anything but bad. the whole thing makes your face feel hot—you are no prude, but he sure makes you feel like one.
"is that what it looks like?" you answer. you realize you can't find your shoes. you think he threw them somewhere last night, between the memory of his hand up your dress and yours in his hair. he kissed his way up your legs and you forgot you even had shoes to worry about.
"almost, if you weren't checking me out just now."
damn. guilty as charged. you can't help it. things feel too good to be true.
first, you learned you got fucked by a million dollar dick last night. now, instead of kicking you out like any other one night stand, he's acting decent, maybe even more than decent. and he has the tits of a god.
seungcheol sees your face wrench up in puritanical shame and he laughs.
"well, if you have time in your busy, busy schedule," he starts, with a grin that makes you dizzy. "i'm making breakfast. and i would love to eat it with you."
suddenly you don't know why you ever had a plan in the first place. you watch him attempt to wink at you from all the way across the room and you think getting to know him might not be such a bad thing after all. maybe things are too good to be true, but you're willing to find out.
needless to say, the second thing you learn about seungcheol is that he cannot cook.
the third? he's an even better kisser sober.
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crashandlivewrites · 2 months
Text
Bathroom Habits with the 141 Boys
These were random thoughts that I had so I wanted to make it a thing with some input from @soapsgf
TF141 x GN!Reader
CW: it gets mildly steamy in a couple of them, but relatively domestic otherwise
Kyle “Gaz” Garrick
Chronic shower sharer. If you’re showering, he’s showering. Just enjoys spending the time with you
Hogs the water and adjusts the temperature for his liking, even if you got in there first
Washes your hair and body tenderly, massaging you gently with your favourite soaps and presses soft kisses to your shoulders as the water rinses your skin
Always comments on the smell of everything and tells you his favourites so you buy them again. Also takes into consideration the smells you like best on him
Loves when you return the favour and wash him. He’s a glutton for being pampered
Avid skin-care enthusiast. You don’t get skin that pretty without some TLC. Definitely takes sunscreen away with him
If you’re into skin-care as well, he enjoys doing it together (read: he enjoys lying in your lap and having you take care of his skin for him. Don’t worry, he’ll return the favour)
Does enjoy a cheeky swipe of moisturiser on your face when you’re not paying attention then bolts out of the room before you can retaliate
He’s also a neat man, meticulously laying out your bathroom bench or shelves with products so they’re easy to grab
Enjoys having his face mostly clean shaven when he’s home, but goes to a barber more often than doing it himself
Pushes the toothpaste from the bottom, making it easy to get most of it out
John Price
Not really a fan of sharing showers but enjoys sharing the bathroom at the same time
He likes doing his beard routine/ casual trims if you’re in the shower and vice versa for your small daily tasks whether it be hair or skin care
However, if you are looking to have a bath and you have one big enough to hold you both? You can be damn sure he’s joining you
Also makes it a big deal when he’s back. There’s candles, drinks, bath salts, and a movie playing in the background as you relax, back against his chest
Cannot keep his hands to himself. As you’re paying attention to the movie, his hands are gliding down your sides and over your thighs
Tells you to keep focusing on the movie if you start squirming too much before doubling down
Not big on skin care, but has a beard care range. Thoroughly enjoys spending his time re-shaping his beard especially after coming back, then having you keep up the smaller trims here and there
Does let you put moisturiser and sunscreen on his face but that’s it
Enjoys brushing, stroking, and/ or braiding your hair as you brush your teeth
Sits on the toilet for an hour despite knowing it’s bad for his bowel health
Clenches the middle of the toothpaste tube initially, but does push it up from the bottom when it gets low
Johnny “Soap” MacTavish
Gremlin in the bathroom. Invades your space. Like Kyle; if you’re showering, he’s showering even if he’s already washed himself for the day
Unapologetically pees in the shower and on you if you’re not careful
Enjoys washing you. Or rather, your chest. Loves soapy nipples. It’s the cleanest part of your body
Also abuses your body with the detachable shower head, holding it between your legs as he pins you to the wall, making you whine
Encourages you to wash him too, trapping your wrists and running your hands over his body suggestively
Can’t have a minute alone with this man. Always has something to talk to you about or show you so there’s no point closing the door
Washes his face with water; bar soap if he’s particularly dirty. We all know he’s a 3 in 1 user
Skin is crusty when he comes back from missions but sits pretty for you if you want to put moisturiser on his face (read: you’ll have to sit on his chest and pin him down but he likes it)
Also another one to spend an hour on the toilet but doesn’t think it’s an issue. Wants you to sit in there with him (no thanks)
Adores it when you shave his mohawk for him. Pretends he can’t do it himself if you’re around. Loves the way your eyes squint in concentration and move his head around forcefully, barking orders at him to sit still
Squeezes the toothpaste right at the top, doesn’t close the lid and leaves it in the sink
Simon “Ghost” Riley
Like Price, also not a shower sharer fan, especially early on in the relationship
The size of him is the main reason, but also wary of making you anxious about his heavily scarred body
No preference of soap or shampoo, probably whatever he’s stolen from base. Also doesn’t use conditioner
Doesn’t mind sharing the bathroom with you though once he gets comfortable, if you happen to be in there at the same time
If you’re having a bath, he won’t join you in the bath, but rather sit next to it on a stool either silently or having quiet conversations with you
Does love washing your hair as he enjoys the way you moan softly at the feeling of his strong hands pressing into your scalp
Always takes deep breaths of your hair and skin when it’s clean, committing the smell to memory
He wears a mask most of the time. He has acne because he doesn’t really wash it, especially on deployment
Doesn’t really care about treating it, but sits for you if you express an interest in taking care of it for him. He won’t admit it, but he is also a glutton for being pampered
Tries to remember what you’ve told him but forgets when he’s away. Sometimes he remembers moisturiser and sunscreen, but it’s a bit hit and miss
Toothpaste looks like he’s had it for years. All shrivelled, cut open, and squeezed to high hell in order to get every bit out
Thank you for reading!! If you have any requests for hc’s, don’t be afraid to send them through!
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unrefinedmusings · 1 year
Text
sweet, sweet sugar
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pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader
summary: meeting a man in a bar and trying to determine what about him is so damn alluring. it doesn't really matter though, it ends well for the both of you. part 2: snooze
warnings: smut, explicit sex, explicit language, age gap (reader is mid 20s, Joel is 36) riding, truck sex, nasty talk, MDNI, 18+
a/n: i love him, your honor. i will protect this tired dilf with my life. might expand on this, if so it'll be fluffy/smutty (no angst because the show is already enough pain for me)
---
It was his voice, you think. You had just relocated to Texas and were new enough to be drawn in by that deep Southern accent when he introduced himself.
Hi, uh, I’m Joel. Mind if I buy ya’ a drink?
Maybe it was the age difference. It wouldn’t be a first for you and the few strands of gray in his hair did make you a little weak in the knees.
It could’ve been his arms. Bumping against the hard muscles of his bicep as the bar stools you two were sitting on inevitably wobbled while you talked. Placing a light touch on his forearm when the liquid courage of your second drink kicked in, before your fingers made their way to his indecently thick ones to intertwine. Just the rough touch of his hands was enough to make you shiver.
His eyes were definitely a factor. Puppy brown orbs that sparkled brighter than starlight when he laughed, even under the dim lights of the bar. How they grew dark, almost black, when you leaned in close enough for him to catch a whiff of your perfume, the faintest hint of sweet vanilla lingering in the space between you two.
Or maybe it was just him. All of him. The way he hummed along to the country western songs playing through the bar’s speakers. The way he spoke to you with affection in his voice despite his gruff exterior. The way he talked about his Sarah: the pride while mentioning an A plus social studies paper followed by the anxiety while asking if he was talking about her too often. 
As if loving his daughter too much could scare you away. 
His scruffy beard and charm, his bad humor, his dad humor, his smile.
And the way he called you sugar, like that’s what you were to him. Nothing but sweetness and all too appetizing. Like he’d drink you up with his coffee every morning if you let him.
Your wandering hand made its way down to his thigh, resting just above his knee. He paused mid sentence and for a moment you worried you were being too forward. Your eyes meet his in a heated stare.
“You tryna’ misbehave there, sugar?”
You were and it landed you in Joel’s backseat, laid down with his body pinning yours. He’s kissing you. He’s still kissing you, hasn’t stopped since he pressed you up against his truck in the dark and nearly empty parking lot. He’s on your lips, until you have to pull away for air when he moves down the expanse of your neck, nipping and sucking along the way.
Your legs part for him, wrapping around his hips to dig your heels into the backs of his firm thighs. His hands find their way under your shirt, calloused fingertips forming gooseflesh across your skin before pulling the material up and over your head. He palms your heaving breasts, letting out a low groan at the feel of your soft flesh in his hands, before working his hands around to the clasp. Any restraint he might have had was tossed into the front seat with your bra.
Now he’s desperate, he’s hungry. 
His mouth is on you, all over. His tongue licking at the marks he left on your neck and chest, his teeth making more down your torso. Lips wrap around your nipple and you arch into his suckling, letting him consume even more of you. Every one of his filthy, reverent kisses is more fuel for the fire growing in you. You tug on his dark locks when he reaches the top of your skirt, running his tongue along the line where fabric meets skin.
“J-Joel, please,” you beg, surprising yourself at how wrecked you sound already.
“I wanna taste ya’, sweet thing,” he teases, looking up at you with mischief in his eyes.
Moving his head down between your legs, Joel places sloppy kisses up the inside of your thighs. You watch him with heavy eyes, shuddering as the coarse hair of his beard grazes your sensitive skin. He brings his face to the crotch of your panties, nose nudging your clit, before taking a deep inhale. He licks at you through the soft lace before pulling it off entirely. 
“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he rasps, the heat of his breath against your cunt enough to make your hips buck. Unbothered by your writhing, Joel wraps his arms around your thighs to keep you open for him before licking a stripe through your slick folds. 
He groans at the taste of you. “Such a sweet pussy, so goddamn wet for me too.”
He dives in, circling your clit with his tongue before plunging inside you. Your thighs try to shut at the sensations, but his hands tighten their grip to hold you in place. You’re melting into his mouth and onto the seats, the fogged up windows an indicator of just how hot everything is right now. 
Then his thick fingers are inside you, thrusting deep and hitting that spot you always have trouble reaching dead on. His mouth wraps around your clit, sucking on it like hard candy.
“Gon’ get a cavity from all this sugar,” he mumbles into your pussy, and the rumble of his laugh vibrates through you.
He thinks he’s so goddamn funny…
“Oh fuck,” you cry out.
It hits you like a rocket. He curls his fingers just right and you’re seeing stars, being pulled up and away into the atmosphere. He doesn’t stop drinking you in until you’ve floated back down to Earth. 
Insatiable.
Your eyes are closed, but you feel his soft lips kissing your neck. He nibbles at your earlobe before whispering, “Did so good for me, such a good girl.”
Good girl. Good girl. Good girl.
It’s like a trigger. All the satisfaction from your climax faded and was replaced by a deep need to be full of him, to take him in and again until you fell into the night sky together.
“Fuck me p-please, please Joel, I need it,” you whine, hands clinging to his broad shoulders.
“Oh sugar,” he coos, “I’ve got you.”
Joel uses one hand to pull you into his lap and straddle his thighs, while the other unbuckles his belt. You scramble to undo his zipper, tug his pants and boxers down, and unveil his—
Oh fuck.
Whatever it was before, it’s definitely his huge dick now. You let out a whine when your fingers wrap around the base without being able to fully encircle it. He rolls a condom down over himself before gripping your hips and guiding you to hover over the flushed red tip. Your forehead is pressed against his as you sink down, gasping at the stretch.
“Good girl, that’s it. It’s big, ain’t it?”
You huff against his cheek, “S’ big.”
“You can take it. Gonna take all of my cock, sugar.”
You do. Your toes curl and you feel like he’s splitting you open, but you take all of him. He rubs circles on your clit, making you gush around him and relax enough to move. With your hands braced on his shoulders, you start rocking your hips and slowly finding a rhythm. Every thrust is electric and the sweet sounds of how wet you are fill the car.
You’re clamped around him, raising and falling harder, faster. Whimpers spilling out of your lips as Joel thrusts into you, meeting your hips with his. You were close, your climax was racing towards you when his thumb found your clit again. Just a few touches to the bundle of nerves and you were toppling over the edge, head thrown back then falling limp into his neck. You shake in his arms as he continues to fuck you in his lap, quickly reaching his own release.
“Fuckin’ goddamnit, sugar,” he pants into your ear as he finishes. 
He keeps you like that, strong arms holding your body close against his as you both catch your breath. You have no objections, nuzzling further into him and gently carding your fingers through his hair. It’s been a few minutes before he breaks the silence.
“Sugar?”
You hum and smile into his skin as a response.
“Could I get your number and, uh, maybe we do this again? Dinner too?”
He had the audacity to sound bashful while his cock was still inside you. You look up to see a pink tint to his cheeks, and you have to answer with a kiss. Slow and sweet.
---
💕💕💕 Thank you for reading 💕💕💕
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hookingminor · 16 days
Text
4 times you took care of him + 1 time he took care of you - nico hischier
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a/n: rewrite of an old fic of mine
cw: brief mentions of blood, stitches, alcohol
word count: 7.4k
summary: nico is the cute neighbor boy across the hall
-
1. 
Sunday nights were your nights. After a long week of studying and working crazy hours, you only had one day to yourself where you weren’t running around like a chicken with its head cut off and could take five minutes to finally breathe. 
Sundays were also the only days you actually took the time to make yourself dinner. Most of your days were either spent in class or at the hospital, so you never prepared anything that couldn’t be done in less than ten minutes. Sometimes you were so lazy that you just counted on cafeteria food and granola bars to hold you over before having cereal for dinner and crashing by eleven o’clock.
Tonight’s specialty was your own take on a carbonara with some grilled chicken on the top. It wasn’t anything fancy, but you had been working on a recipe to perfect this for nearly three months now, and you were almost satisfied with the results.
It was in the middle of adding the finishing touches by combining the pasta and the sauce when you heard a knock on your door. Setting the towel on the counter and reducing the stove heat to a low simmer, you made your way to answer the door.
“Oh, hi, Nico,” you said with surprise when you saw your neighbor on the other side. He lived across the hall from you, but you rarely saw him in the building. Still, it wasn’t hard to notice that he was incredibly attractive.
“Hi,” he greeted you. The smells of your dinner wafted over him, and he peeked over your head to catch a glimpse of what you were preparing. 
“I just stopped by to drop this off,” he said, handing you an envelope. “They keep mixing up our mailboxes.”
“Thank you,” you replied as you glanced down at the letter. “I have a few for you as well, hold on just a second.”
You turned away from the door and walked back towards the kitchen to where you kept a stash of his mail. You’d been meaning to drop it off, but your hours at home never coincided with each other. 
Granted, you could have slipped it under his door, but you really just wanted an excuse to talk to the cute neighbor boy. You were just waiting until you worked up the nerve to knock on his door.
Nico took a few steps into your apartment, not wanting to overstep but also not wanting to stand in the hall awkwardly as you rummaged through some papers. As he waited, his eyes wandered back over to the stove where you were cooking some type of pasta. 
His stomach growled lowly as the smell of seasoned chicken and sauces flooded his senses, and he realized he hadn’t eaten anything in nearly five hours.
“Sorry,” he said with a blush. There was no way you hadn’t heard that grumble. “Guess I forgot to eat something after practice.”
“Did you want some?” You asked almost too eagerly. “I mean, I made quite a bit,” you backtracked quickly, “I usually survive the week on leftovers.”
“No, it’s okay,” he chuckled, but Nico wanted nothing more than to shove a forkful of whatever you had made into his mouth. “I’ll probably just order something for delivery.”
“Please, I insist,” you persisted, “I made a lot, and your food won’t be here for, like, another hour at least.” God, you were coming off as desperate, and you mentally slapped yourself for it.
He looked at you hesitantly, obviously not wanting to intrude, but damn if he wasn’t really hungry.
You didn’t wait for his reply before dropping the mail back where it was and crossing the kitchen to the stove. Pulling out an extra plate, you began piling it with pasta and chicken, and Nico figured it was too late to refuse you again.
“Take a seat,” you suggested as you plated a dish for yourself. “You’re not an intrusion, I promise. I don’t get a lot of company anyways.”
“Busy life?” Nico asked. It was then that he realized he really didn’t know much about you despite having run into you multiple times in the hallways.
“You could say that,” you chuckled humorlessly. It was a combination of being both busy and having no friends, but you weren’t about to tell him that. 
“What do you do?” He questioned as he rested his elbows on the table.
“I’m a nursing student, so I spend all my time studying or working at the hospital,” you explained as you brought the plates over to the table. He mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ when you set his food down in front of him. It looked delicious. Nico’s skills in the kitchen were subpar to say the least; he couldn’t make anything that didn’t come with box instructions or wasn’t baked chicken and vegetables. So having an actual home cooked meal was starting to feel like Christmas.
“Is that why I only ever see you coming home at midnight?” He wondered, picking up a fork to take a bite.
Nico was right, it was delicious. 
“Yeah, hours are a little crazy for me right now, but they should settle down once I graduate,” you replied as you took a bite. It was your best carbonara yet, but it wasn’t quite perfect. “What about you? Why are you always coming home at midnight?”
You’d never talked to him much after that first day when he helped you with a couple boxes as you moved in. Most of your interactions were restricted to passing each other in the halls and the polite conversation about how your day was going and the weather.
“I, uh, play hockey,” he started, “and we get back from road trips really late sometimes.”
“No shit, really?” Your eyes widened in shock, “like you play for the Devils?” You weren’t well versed in sports in general, and even less so in New Jersey sports. However, you did hear chatter around from your classmates and coworkers about various games.
Nico nodded his head in agreement, “Yeah, I’m the captain.” Every revelation about him continued to shock you.
“So I’m dining with New Jersey royalty then, huh?” You teased after a moment. Even though you didn’t know much, you did know the Devils were doing exceptionally well at the moment.
He blushed at your compliment, “I’m not royalty.”
“Your team’s current record says otherwise given the team’s horrendous past ,” you commented, dropping the little bit of knowledge you knew as you overheard your lab partner go on about the Devils’ hot streak.
Nico raised his eyebrows in surprise at your statement.
“I’m not an actual fan, so don’t test me,” you chuckled at his surprise, “My lab partner is always talking about the Devils, and I may have unknowingly processed some of the information.”
“It’s not because of me. The team’s just doing well in general,” he brushed it off casually, but you knew that wasn’t totally the case. The team may be good, but good leadership can be what makes or breaks them.
“So you’re not a big cook then, I presume?” You asked instead, changing the subject to something else. Nico probably talked about hockey enough with other people, you didn’t want to bore him even more.
“You could say that,” he said, repeating your phrase from earlier. “If it’s not something a seven year old could make, it’s not something I could make.” He had barely registered that he’d finished off everything on his plate by now while you were still finishing yours.
“Did you want more?” You asked, noticing his empty plate, but Nico shook his head.
“No, thank you, this was more than enough,” Nico insisted. “I’ve bothered you enough tonight.”
“Really, I don’t mind,” you said, clearing off your plate. “It’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t asking me about upcoming exams or patient reports or asking for more painkillers.”
“It’s nice not talking about hockey, too,” he agreed.
Rising from your seat, you took his plate and yours to the sink as you were both now finished.
“I got this,” Nico said quickly, following you to the sink and lightly hip checking you out the way. “I do know basic manners. You cooked, so I’ll clean.”
You opened your mouth to argue with him, but the look on his face said the conversation was already over, and he grabbed the sponge with one hand. Deciding to leave it alone, you held your hands up in surrender and backed away from the sink. While he was busy, you packed up the leftovers into a plastic container.
“I make dinner every Sunday,” you said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “So, if you want, you’re always free to join me.” You didn’t look at him when you said this, trying to keep it casual and so he wouldn’t see the way your face was riddled with embarrassment. You were trying to subtly ask him to come over more, and you didn’t want to be faced with his rejection.
You heard the sink shutoff and saw his body turn towards yours out of the corner of your eyes as he leaned against the counter.
“I’d really like that,” he said, “but I do have one condition though.” You looked up and met his gaze with raised brows.
“You have to teach me how to cook,” he continued with an easy grin as he dried off his hands with a towel.
“You’ve got a deal,” you agreed, matching his smile with one of your own.
You sent Nico home that night with the leftover carbonara and his mail despite his protests, but you argued that he couldn’t live off takeout forever and that you could always make more food whereas he could not.
The next Sunday he had showed up around dinner time once again, this time bringing over a plate of cookies that he most definitely bought at the store but tried to play off as baking them himself. He had said if you were going to be doing a majority of the work, the least he could do was bring you something in return.
Every Sunday after that Nico was at your place. On the off chance he was out of town, he always left you a note on your door saying he wouldn’t be making it and notifying you of when he’d see you next. You didn’t need the notes, he didn’t have to tell you whether or not he was coming, but they made your heart flutter every time you came home and saw a blue sticky note waiting for you. 
You taught him a few staple dishes, mainly how to cook pasta and rice and some salads. His capabilities weren’t all that vast, and he wanted to remain in the realm of foods that weren’t too complicated so he couldn’t fuck up.
Making dinner with Nico turned into messing around in the kitchen for a couple hours most of the time. You teased him about his chopping abilities and he teased you every time your small hands dropped something due to your lack of coordination, to which you complained how not everyone could be a professional athlete. 
And every time you two ate at your same spots at the table, sometimes splitting a bottle of wine that Nico would bring over. 
Every once in a while Nico would arrive with a bag of takeout in his hand, declaring that you needed a break from all the cooking. There was no reason to have dinner together since it wasn’t under the guise of teaching him something new, but you still welcomed him nonetheless.
Sundays were no longer your nights, but that was perfectly fine by you as long as you could keep sharing them with Nico.
-
2. 
Nico was getting a little desperate. 
Two months had passed since he started coming over for weekly dinners, and he was making no progress. It’s not like he was really trying, though. If he was being honest, he wasn’t quite sure how to flirt with a woman without the intention of sleeping with her.
Which isn’t to say he didn’t want to sleep with you because he definitely did, it just wasn’t all that he wanted.
He hoped he conveyed interest on his part, but he wasn’t positive you were picking up on his hints. Or maybe you just weren’t into him.
So, he decided to take it one step further. He bought some plants.
Nico knew next to nothing about plants other than that they needed water, but he’d noticed you kept a few in your apartment near your large window.
Once again, he found himself knocking on your door, but this time you weren’t expecting it.
“Hey, what’s up?” You asked him when you opened the door. It wasn’t like him to show up to your place out of the blue.
“I wanted to ask you a favor,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ve got a week long roadie and was wondering if, maybe, you’d look after my plants?”
“Oh yeah, definitely, I can do that,” you said with a smile.
“Do you have a minute right now? I can show them to you really quick,” he asked, gesturing with his arm to his door. You nodded your head in agreement, and Nico took a few steps backward to let you into his apartment.
You followed him through the entrance and paused briefly. His apartment layout was the exact same as yours only flipped. He walked until he hit the same balcony window where you kept your plants, and you saw he had about four small pots along with a large pot that sat in the corner.
“This is the gang,” he introduced, spreading his arms to show them off.
“This is so cute,” you chuckled, stepping closer to get a better look at the plants. You noticed one of them was also one you had.
“I’m going to be honest,” he started. “I only recently bought them, so I don’t really know what I’m doing.”
“Well, they seem to be still living, so you haven’t done anything too bad,” you teased lightly.
“Oh, let me get the spare key for you,” he said suddenly before he turned and left you alone to fetch the key.
Nico returned less than a minute later, small black key fob in his hand. You opened your hand for him to place it in your palm.
“When will you be back?” You asked, stretching back up from your squatted position.
“Next Wednesday,” he clarified, “and I leave tomorrow.” You nodded.
There wasn’t much more to say, so you told him a brief ‘good luck’ on his roadie before leaving. Returning to your own, you made a mental note to check in on his plants tomorrow.
The following afternoon, you let yourself into Nico’s apartment with the key he’d given you. You read the sticky note he left for you on the counter, the words reading ‘in case of an emergency’ along with his phone number.
You rolled your eyes at the note, laughing lightly at his phrasing of ‘in case of an emergency.’ You hardly thought watering plants would cause a catastrophic event, but the gesture was cute.
Filling up a few cups of water, you made your way over to his plants and distributed the water throughout until you’d gone over all of them. Before you could think better of it, you snapped a picture of the plants in the window before opening a text thread to Nico.
You: First day all done! :)
He didn’t reply for a few hours, but that was okay because you hadn’t expected him to reply at all.
Nico: They’re looking better already!
Ever since that first day, you began exchanging messages. His replies were sporadic, but you didn’t mind; he was a busy guy. Still, he managed to text you whenever he could, and your conversations quickly turned away from his plants to other subjects. 
You recommended some new shows for him to watch while he was on road trips, and he told you where his favorite takeout restaurants were when you felt too lazy to cook. 
Honestly, Sundays didn’t feel the same without him, but you didn’t tell him you stopped cooking when he didn’t show up.
Even when Nico was back in town, you found yourself texting him frequently in your classes and also on your breaks, and Nico found himself waking up every morning looking forward to whatever message you’d sent after he’d fallen asleep.
-
3. 
The incessant pounding at your door woke you up from your sleep. You knew who it was immediately as there was only one person who visited you, and you were ready to yell at him after you answered the door. 
Throwing on a sweatshirt, you stomped your way to the door and shouted out, “I’m coming!” so Nico could take the hint to shut the hell up.
“Oh my god, Nico,” you groaned as you threw open the door, “It’s two in the fucking morning.” But it wasn’t Nico you were greeted with.
Or rather, he wasn’t the only one outside the door.
“Uh, hi,” a man said as Nico leaned against him, very obviously drunk.
“Hi?” You asked, your eyes flicking over to the drunken Nico.
“I think he lost his key,” the stranger said, “and then he was knocking on your door before I could take him back to my place.”
“Of course,” you sighed. “You love bothering me, don’t you, Nico?”
“Y/N,” he slurred your name when he heard your voice. “I told you she was beautiful, Hughes.” He clearly meant to whisper the last part into his friend’s ear, but his impaired state changed his whisper into a quiet shout.
“Alright, buddy, let’s keep it down,” his friend said with a chuckle as he tried to spare him from saying something else embarrassing.
“Do you still have my key? I forgot mine,” Nico asked instead, lifting his eyes to yours.
“I left it in your apartment last time I watered the plants,” you answered and Nico let out an annoyed groan.
“It’s fine, he can stay here tonight,” you said, addressing his friend this time.
“You sure? I don’t want to bother you,” his friend insisted. “I can just bring him back to my place.”
“Don’t worry about it, you already dragged him all the way here. I can handle it,” you said and opened the door further.
His friend lugged him into your apartment and led Nico to the couch, plopping him down on the cushions.
“Thanks for doing this. I’m sorry for waking you,” he apologized once Nico was settled.
“No problem, I’m used to him interrupting my nights,” you chuckled lightly, though it sounded more sexual than you intended for it to.
“Yeah, well,” the stranger said with an awkward laugh, “I’ll get out of your hair then.” And then he turned to leave. “Hischier! Text me in the morning!” He called out one last time and Nico grumbled his acknowledgement. Then his friend was gone, leaving you alone with a drunken twenty-something year old.
“Alright, Nico, let’s get you ready for bed,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. He was splayed out on his back on your couch, head lolled against a decorative pillow. If it weren’t for his indecipherable sounds, you would’ve thought he was asleep.
You left him alone for a minute as you retreated back to your room to grab a couple extra blankets and a pillow that wouldn’t end up hurting his neck.
When you returned, Nico was now on his stomach with one arm dangled off the couch.
“Feeling okay, bud?” You asked gently, brushing back a few strands of his hair to check if he was still awake. He hummed a quiet ‘yeah’ and you lifted his head to replace the throw pillow with a fluffier one from your bed.
You draped one large blanket over his body and then set another smaller one on top of that. Nico sighed in content and you made a quick trip to the kitchen to retrieve a couple Advil pills and a glass of water.
“Can you drink this before you fall asleep?” You asked when you got back to the living room. 
Despite his intoxication, Nico managed to sit up just enough to swallow the pills down with a drink of water before flopping his head back down. You set the half-full glass on the coffee table and leaned over to turn off the lamp.
“You good to sleep?” You questioned, and Nico nodded his head to the best of his ability.
“I’ll be in my room if you need anything,” you said finally, making your way back to the hallway.
“Thank you, Y/N,” he said quietly before you were out of hearing range, “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Nico,” you murmured with a small smile.
-
4.
“How the hell did this even happen? Sticks are supposed to remain on the ice, you know,” you wondered with curiosity. 
Nico knocked on your door at nearly midnight, hair still damp from his shower and still in his Devils sweats. If it weren’t for the fact that you were awake and watching a movie, you wouldn’t have noticed the knocking. 
When you opened the door, you were met with split stitches and tired eyes. Ushering him into your apartment, you led him to the bathroom where you kept the first-aid. 
Nico pushed himself up so he could sit on your counter and gave you a sheepish smile.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, “They stitched me up after the game, but they came out.”
“So, why didn’t you contact your trainers or something?” You inquired, opening your kit and grabbing the alcohol.
“Because I have a perfectly good nurse here at home to stitch me back up,” he answered with an easy grin. You gave him an incredulous look.
“It seems like I’m constantly getting the short end of the stick in this relationship,” you said as you stepped between his legs to inspect his face. It wasn’t anything serious, just a few stitches that broke. In all honesty, he probably could’ve survived the night without fixing it, but you weren’t going to turn down an opportunity to be this close to him.
“Close your eyes,” you ordered before he could say anything back. Nico followed your instruction obediently, fluttering his eyes shut as if he had all the time in the world.
Using a small pair of scissors, you snipped at the remaining stitches. You took the tweezers next and gently pulled at the broken strands, slowly removing them from his cheek. Nico’s eyes twitched slightly at the discomfort, but he said nothing as you reopened his wound.
“You’re really good at this,” he stated, and you noticed that he had opened one eye to watch you. You blushed at his compliment, your cheeks heating at the warm feeling you got when you looked into his eyes.
Averting his gaze, you muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ before opening an alcohol pad.
“You’re going to want to really close your eyes for this, it might burn,” you recommended. The cut was along his cheekbone, stretching about three inches and oozing just a little bit of blood.
You cleaned along the cut lightly, one of your hands cupping his cheek while the other managed the wipe. After throwing the bloodied pad off to the side, you brought out the small bottle of lidocaine you had stashed away underneath all your bandaids. You squeezed a bit onto a cotton swab and dabbed the area around the cut. The lidocaine took a few minutes to kick in, so you busied yourself by preparing the thread and sanitizing the needle.
“I want you to know that I’m not actually a certified nurse yet. I’m still in training,” you explained. “So, if this hurts it’s your fault.”
“I trust you,” he said simply with a smirk.
“I would hope so,” you scoffed, “You’re letting a nursing student with a needle stitch near the eye of the New Jersey Devils Captain.”
“Besides, if you fuck up, I’ll just blame it on you when we lose after I can’t play because I’ve been blinded,” he teased.
“Don’t even joke about that, Nico. All of New Jersey would burn me alive,” you said, slugging his arm in response.
Was he about to let a beautiful, uncertified girl stitch him back together just because he wanted an excuse to spend more time with her? Absolutely.
He gave you a light chuckle as he leaned back on his hands, the fabric of his t-shirt stretching deliciously over his broad chest. It took everything in you to not linger your eyes over his arms and how large they looked right now.
“Is it numb yet?” You asked instead, refocusing your attention on threading the needle.
“Yeah, I think so,” he replied, bringing a couple fingers to poke at his cheek, but you swatted his hand away before he could do more damage.
Taking the same position as before, you stood between his legs again and angled his head slightly to the side so you could examine it under better light.
“Just let me know if it hurts, okay?” You insisted, holding the needle between your tweezers. You waited for Nico’s nod of agreement before starting.
You punctured the skin with the point and crossed the wound before poking through the other side. Nico’s hands instinctively reached out to grasp at your hips as he breathed in a sharp breath of air. 
“Oh my god, is it not numb?” You panicked, pausing all your movements as you gauged his face for any signs of pain.
“It stung a little bit,” he replied, but the tightened grip on your waist said otherwise. “I was just a little shocked, is all.” He added that last part when he saw the worry spread across your face as your eyes widened in fear of hurting him. “Keep going, I’m fine.”
You gave him a hesitant look, not wanting to continue if it was going to cause him pain. This time when he squeezed your sides, it was to reassure you and encourage you to continue. 
Nico kept his hands where they were, sliding his thumbs just underneath the hem of your shirt to trace soft circles into your skin. Recommencing your movements, you repeated the same crisscrossing threads over his cut, trying to work as quickly as possible.
When you’d finished, you knotted off the ends, clipped the remaining thread, and applied a salve over the sealed wound.
“There you go,” you said as you finished touching him up.
“And my kiss to make it feel better?” He asked with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at his presumptuousness but leaned in to press a light kiss near his stitches.
“Can I trust you to not pull them out again?” You retorted, stepping out of his grip to clean up your supplies.
“I don’t know…” he trailed off as in deep contemplation, “I might need you to spend the night and keep an eye on me.”
“Nice try, bud,” you chuckled, “but it’s not going to happen.” He pouted. 
“And if you do tear them again, I’m not restitching it.”
You finished packing away your materials and walked Nico back to your front door.
“Thank you, Y/N,” he said when you opened the door. 
“Anytime,” you replied, “Goodnight, Nico.”
Leaning forward, he pressed a quick kiss to your cheek in appreciation before crossing the few feet to his door. You hoped he couldn’t see the way your eyes widened in shock, but if he did see, he didn’t say anything about it.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
-
+ 1 
For the first time since you’ve met Nico, it was finally your turn to cancel on dinner. You really didn’t want to, as the dinners with him were the highlight of your week, but you knew if you broke concentration for even a minute to entertain him, your mind would be thinking about him even after he left. And you were not going to pass the NCLEX if Nico was invading all of your thoughts. You’d been studying for this exam for months, but now it was a week out and it was crunch time.
You: Gotta cancel on dinner Sunday, sorry :(
Nico: Going out of town? Got a hot date?
You: The only dates I’ll be having for the next week is between me and my millions of notes for my board exam 
Nico: Stressed out?
You: You wouldn’t even believe, so if I’m MIA for a few days, don’t worry 
Nico: Are we still on for next Sunday?
You: Yes. We will either be celebrating or commiserating, so get your wine ready
Nico: I’ll bring over the best since we’ll be celebrating :)
You didn’t know how to reply, so you reacted to his message with a thumbs up before leaving him on read.
-
For the next few days, you studied your ass off. Sunday came, but when six o’clock rolled around, you couldn’t help your thoughts from straying from your studies and over to what you would be doing with Nico if it weren’t for this stupid exam.
And as if he had read your mind, your phone dinged with a new text message.
Nico: Open your door
Your brows furrowed in confusion as you read the text, and you were just about to tell him off for disturbing you after you already told him you didn’t have the time.
However, that wasn’t the case because when you opened your door, Nico was nowhere to be found although a paper bag rested on the ground in front of you. 
Cautiously, you picked up the bag and brought it inside, immediately smelling the tzatziki sauce from your favorite Greek restaurant.
You: What’s this?
You texted him, along with a picture of the bag.
Nico: Even if we aren’t making dinner, you should still eat, and I figured gyros were better than cereal 
He was right. You had planned on pouring yourself a bowl of cereal when the hunger became too much and forced you to take a break. And gyros definitely were better than Frosted Flakes.
You: You’re a lifesaver, truly. Thank you!
Nico opened the message and didn’t reply, even though he really wanted to, but he knew you had studying to do and the last thing he wanted was to distract you.
-
After pulling an all-nighter, Sunday slowly turned into Monday, and you had finally decided to go to bed at nine on Monday morning. The few hours of sleep you got were welcomed, but rest did little to calm yourself down. The exam was on Friday, and you still had four years worth of material to remember. 
So, you dragged yourself out of bed around three in the afternoon and plopped yourself on the ground in front of your couch where all your notes were still spread on the floor.
You’d gotten through about four chapters in your review book before you heard a knock at the door. 
Pushing yourself up by your hands, you crossed the length of the apartment to the door. If it was Nico, he was about to be really turned off by how messy you looked.
And once again, it wasn’t him. 
Just like yesterday, something awaited you in front of your door. This time, it was a four cup drink tray filled with different coffees. 
Picking them up off the ground, you walked it back into your home and set it on your kitchen counter. There was a blue sticky note attached to the top in true Nico style, and you were smiling at the familiar handwriting before you even read what it said.
Thought you could use a pick-me-up :)
PS: I didn’t know what you liked, but you’re NOT allowed to drink these all at once
You chuckled at the last sentence. Of course he would send you four different orders because he didn’t know what you wanted. In all honesty, you could survive on just plain black coffee with nothing added if needed, but the fact that he sent you options had your heart swelling. 
You scanned through each cup, reading the labels on each one as they ranged from a standard black coffee to a sweet caramel latte, all of them iced (you had mentioned once that you only drank iced coffee, even in the middle of the winter). It didn’t slip your mind that this was from that expensive shop a few blocks down, the one you could only allow yourself to go to once a month because you knew it would drain you quickly.
Deciding to tease Nico a little bit, you stuck a straw in every single lid. You connected all four straws in the middle and closed your lips over them and took a drink. The resulting taste wasn’t fantastic, but it was worth the funny selfie you took drinking them that you sent to Nico.
You: What was it that I wasn’t allowed to do? Your note wasn’t clear 
Nico: I’m never sending you coffee again
-
On Tuesday, Nico sent you a bouquet of sunflowers. They were massive and bright and you couldn’t see over them as you placed them on the table.
Hope these sunflowers brighten up your day
-
On Wednesday, Nico got back from his short roadie. Maybe it was the constant studying, or maybe it was the little gifts Nico sent you, but your stress levels seemed to calm down as the week went on. There was still the pressure to do well, but every time Nico sent something to you, it was as if everything became a little bit more manageable.
You invited him over to hang out for a little bit, just to thank him for the things he’d done for you. You expected him to stay for a few minutes, maybe a half hour at the most, and then you’d send him home with some cookies you’d baked for him. Instead, he grabbed the plate of cookies and made himself comfortable on your couch.
“You just made these?” He asked with a mouthful of cookie as he picked up a stack of flashcards. You nodded as you took a seat on the opposite side of the couch.
“What’s the therapeutic drug level for theo… theoph…” he began to say, but trailed off, “Never mind. I was trying to help, but I can’t pronounce any of these words.” He ended the sentence with a chuckle before flicking the flashcard over to you.
“The word is theophylline,” you laughed, “and the answer is 10-20 micrograms per deciliter.”
“I understand none of those words, so that probably means it’s right,” he said as he finished his second cookie.
“If you want to help me I know something you can do,” you said eagerly, “And you don’t even have to speak, just sit there and look pretty.”
“That I can do,” he agreed with a nod and sat up to place the cookies on the coffee table. “Where do you want me?”
“Right there is fine. I’m just going to do a standard routine checkup like you’d get at the doctor’s,” you explained, grabbing your small bag of medical tools.
You ran through your procedure, checking your notes periodically to make sure you asked all the questions. Nico had no problem being your puppet, even answering some questions with ridiculous answers.
“And are you sexually active?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He asked with an eyebrow wiggle. You gave him an unamused glare.
“It’s part of the questions, dumbass,” you rolled your eyes and Nico laughed. “Never mind, I already know the answer anyway.”
“That was one time!” He groaned as he flopped his head back against the cushion. You were obviously referring to the one time you had a run in with one of his hookups. “I haven’t had anyone here since then.”
“Thank god for that,” you muttered, “but she did seem like a nice girl.”
Nico gave you a disbelieving look. You’d ran into them as you were returning from an overnight shift at nearly seven in the morning as Nico was trying to get rid of her, but she was hoping to get another date out of him before she left.
It was an awkward interaction to say the least, and Nico immediately called over to you to get your attention. The girl was displeased because you were interrupting their conversation and also because Nico had used you as an excuse to get out of scheduling another date.
“Oh, Y/N, you still needed me to fix that thing for you, right?” He had asked when he saw you walking down the hall. It took you all of two seconds to process the situation and Nico’s panicked and pleading eyes before you were agreeing. You even threw in the fact that it was urgent and that he needed to help right now, to which the girl gave you an eye roll.
Needless to say, Nico thanked you profusely for saving his ass and never called the girl again. That was over three months ago, and you had yet to see another girl leave his apartment.
“Well, I think I’m done with all the questions,” you concluded finally. “I think it’s safe to say you are in impeccable shape, Mr. Hischier.”
“Is this your subtle way of kicking me out?” He asked.
“Technically, I never invited you to stay. You kind of just sat here and made yourself at home,” you replied.
“I’m sorry for wanting to catch up with my friend after not seeing her in a week,” he joked.
“And you’re going to have to wait another few days for that, bud,” you chuckled.
“Fine, fine,” he conceded, “I’ll go, but I’m taking the cookies.”
“They were yours to begin with, idiot.”
-
On Thursday, you received one final package. It was a wrapped box, obviously done by someone who’s never wrapped a gift in their life. 
Opening it, there was Nico’s same scrawl on the familiar blue sticky note.
Something to look forward to after you ace this exam tomorrow!
Underneath the note was a ticket to a Devils game on Sunday against Vancouver, but it wasn’t the only thing in the box. You pulled out a red sweatshirt with the New Jersey Devils logo on the front. There was nothing on the back, but the number ‘13’ could be seen on both sleeves.
The thought of Nico sending you something with his number on it had your cheeks heating instantly. He’d been teasing you about coming to a game, and it seemed you finally had a reason to go now.
-
After you took your exam, it was like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Your school days were behind you now, and you could now start your career. The exam results still took six weeks, but you were feeling pretty confident in yourself.
Nico had texted you instructions to wait for him after the game on Sunday. He wanted you to try and meet him somewhere, but your navigation skills were terrible and you were sure to get lost in an arena you’d never been in.
So, you met him outside his car in the parking lot where the team parked.
“There he is,” you called out, clapping, when you saw him exit the arena, “First star of the night with two goals, Captain Nico Hischier!” You gave him your best announcer voice.
“Shut up,” he replied with a chuckle, but his face was beaming with a wide smile.
“Good game tonight,” you said with a smile of your own. “Trying to impress someone?”
By this time, Nico had reached the car, and he was dropping his bag on the ground before wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground in a hug.
“I’m always trying to impress you,” he mumbled against your hair before he set you back down.
“Well, consider me impressed,” you gushed. 
“I was thinking...” Nico said after a moment.
“Uh oh,” you interjected with a worried look.
“Don’t be a dork,” he chuckled. “I was thinking that instead of going back home and making dinner I can take you out tonight instead.”
“Celebratory dinner for your win?” You questioned.
“And for your exam,” he added, “And also maybe as a date?” Nico said the last part quietly and quickly averted your gaze.
“Are you asking me on a date, Nico?” You asked for clarification, but the smile on your face was spreading wider as the seconds passed.
“Yes, I am,” he said with a deep swallow.
You squinted your eyes, as if in deep contemplation.
“Well, I’ve only been waiting, like, months for you to ask me,” you teased. “I’d love to go on a date with you.”
“Really?” He asked, eyes bright as he reached out to pull you closer to his body. You hummed in agreement and connected your hands behind his neck.
“I was starting to think you’d never get the hint,” you said quietly.
“I was just waiting for the right time,” he insisted, hands resting on your hips, “And if I’m being honest, I really want to kiss you right now.”
You didn’t answer him in words. Instead, you pushed up on your tip-toes and leaned in to connect your lips to his. The kiss was soft, neither of you wanting to push too far too fast. He moved his lips against yours gently, taking his time to convey how he felt about you.
When you finally pulled back to catch your breath, you both had stupid looks on your face as you were both giddy with joy.
“Atta boy, Cap!” A loud voice shouted across the lot along with some hoots, and you let your head fall against Nico’s chest as you chuckled to yourself.
“Fuck off, Jack!” Nico yelled back before dipping his head down to kiss the top of yours. “Ignore him, he’s annoying. Let’s get out of here before they try and come over.”
“Lead the way,” you said, breaking apart so you could climb in his car. 
-
Six weeks later, your results came in.
You let yourself into Nico’s unlocked apartment. Ever since you started dating, it just seemed a lot easier to leave your apartments unlocked during the day so you could easily bounce between places.
“Nico, it’s here!” You exclaimed, spotting him on the couch. He looked up from whatever show he was watching and paused it immediately when he saw the envelope in your hands.
You basically sprinted across the room and plopped down onto his lap before shoving it into his hands.
“You open it, I can’t do it,” you murmured against the side of his head, your arms slinging over his shoulders as one of his arms wrapped around your waist.
Nico chuckled as he ripped open the paper and pulled out the letter.
“What does it say?” You asked, your head tucked into his neck so you couldn’t read the results.
“Babe…” he said softly, “I’m sorry.”
“What?” You asked worriedly, peeling yourself from his neck to read the letter yourself.
Congratulations! You have passed the NCLEX exam!
You didn’t even bother to read the rest of the letter once you’d read those first two sentences.
“You asshole, that wasn’t funny!” You said, pushing his head away from you as he laughed.
“I thought it was kind of funny,” he replied, “And now my girlfriend is officially a sexy nurse.” Nico pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.
“You better get that idea out of your head right now,” you said warningly, already knowing where his thoughts were headed.
“All jokes aside, I’m proud of you, baby,” he said happily.
“I probably would’ve combusted from stress had it not been for your little gifts,” you admitted.
“What can I say? I was so whipped for you,” he said.
“You really were, weren’t you? The flowers and the sweatshirt with your number on it…” you teased, and he poked your side in retaliation.
“Kidding,” you giggled happily, “and I’m whipped for you, too, Nico.”
958 notes · View notes
cozage · 11 months
Note
this is my first time doing an ask but,, can I have a Law/Luffy/Ace (all or any, either is fine!) where the reader accidentally keeps seducing them without knowing? like a few incidents where the reader is oblivious to the way she is affecting them would be very cute <3 love your writing style a lot btw, it gives me butterflies hehe~
A/N: Thank you Anon :) that was such a nice compliment ahhhhh i love you
Characters: f reader x Law, Luffy, Ace
Cw: SFW in bullet points, some suggestive content in the “story” portion and alcohol mention in Law’s and Ace’s
Total word count: 2.4k
Oblivious Flirting (and one very obvious one!)
Law
Some things you do without knowing that makes his heart flutter:
Touching the small of his back when you move behind him or lean in to talk to him. It’s just something you do with everyone, but it makes him freeze whenever you touch him there specifically. He feels electricity bolt through his body whenever your skin makes contact with his. He hates when you pull away, and has to swallow the knot in his throat and attempt to act normal. 
You consistently tease him about his earrings, telling him they’d look good on you. You beg and beg to try them on, and he always waves you off. He lowers his hat to cover his face, feigning irritation and trying to end the conversation, but really he’s trying to cover his blush. (And he has to admit, he thinks they’d look good on you too)
You’re one of the few people Law allows to sit in his study with him, because you don’t bother him. Occasionally you’ll be reading, or see something interesting or funny, and you’ll gasp or laugh or make a funny expression with your face. Law finds that so endearing, and he loves it even more when you say “Captain, listen to this!” and then go on to repeat whatever you just read. It’s one of the few times he finds himself smiling and something so small and trivial, and he always loves how excited you are about it all. 
--
The crew had just gotten in from a long night, and you were just a bit too tipsy to function normally. You cursed the tight dress you were in, and the zipper that always got stuck. You opened your door, looking for anyone who could help loosen the damn thing just a little, but nobody was around. You ventured down the hallway, looking for the one man you knew would be awake at this hour. 
You found yourself at his office door, and you knocked softly. Your captain had been the one member of the crew who hadn’t gone out to the bar with you all, claiming he needed to work on some project. He opened the door a crack, and you smiled up at him.
His eyes scanned your body and then quickly snapped back up to your face. “Is there something you need?”
You frowned and turned around, sweeping your hair away from your back. “Help,” you whined to him. 
“With what?” You could hear the irritation in his voice, and you held back the urge to laugh at him. 
“My dress. Can you unzip it?”
His voice comes out in a low hiss, and you can hear that you’ve caught him off guard. “What?”
You laugh now, and you turn your head to catch his gaze sliding down your back, trying to find where the zipper ends. His face is beet red with embarrassment and full of shock. You can’t help but laugh even harder, looking at your captain so tongue tied. 
“Not like that!” Your voice is a tad too loud, and Law shoots a look down the hallway to see if anyone will emerge, but it stays silent. “Unless you want it to be like that,” you say more seductively, giggling lightly and scrunching your face at him in a teasing manner. You wink and turn around, waiting for him to unzip the top part of your dress. 
He stands there, frozen as a statue. He’s so confused about this interaction and if it means anything more than drunken teasing on your end. He knows you’re one to do harmless flirting, but this feels like something more, he just can’t explain why. 
“Lawwwww,” you impatiently sing his name out, and he snaps out of his frozen state. His fingers hover over your zipper, and he pulls at it gently. It doesn’t budge, and he has to use more force, finally getting it to budge. He unzips it a third of the way down your back. 
“Further,” you hum to him, and he obliges after a moment. He unzips it all the way to your waist before stopping himself from going lower. He stands there silently for a minute, transfixed by the view he got now that your back was so exposed to him. 
“Thank you, captain.” Your voice is low and full of exhaustion. The events of the night have finally caught up to you, now that you were more comfortable and the dress wasn’t squeezing your body. You rub the drowsiness from your eyes and turn back to him, giving him a sleepy smile and bounding off down the hallway. 
He wished he was capable of telling you how desperately he wanted to follow you in that moment. 
Luffy
How to make Luffy’s eyes to widen at you: 
Putting on lipgloss. The first time he saw you do it, the shine it gave your lips, he was awestruck. You caught him staring, and offered him the tube. “Wanna try? It’s cotton candy flavor.” He didn't know how to explain he wanted to lick it off your face, not the tube. 
When he’s close to you, you like to scrunch your face up at him and give his nose a little tap. Sometimes it’s prompted by him being silly, sometimes you’re just walking by and get the urge to do it. It can be accompanied by a “boop!” which usually makes him laugh so hard he falls over. He doesn’t know why, but he likes being so close to you and having so much fun with you. 
Whenever you refer to him as captain, he falls a little harder for you. He loves hearing “Luffy'' out of your mouth, but there’s just something so sweet about the way “Captain” comes out. Where others use the words begrudgingly, you always sing the word, making it light and fluffy and the word passes through your lips and floats around him.
--
Your shouts of glee rang out across the Sunny as you jumped over barrels and bounded across the deck. 
“Give it back!” Luffy called out, but his tone was light as he chased after you. He laughed as he shot his arm out at you, trying to grab the strawhat off your head. But you ducked at the last second, and his arm whipped past you. You jumped over the balcony onto the lower deck, turning around mid leap to stick your tongue out at him as you fell. 
You dashed across the deck, and as you went to turn left, he shot across to cut you off. You yelped in surprise, turning on your heel to dash the other way. You could hear Luffy behind you, groaning in frustration. 
“Wow, this strawhat has such nice shade!” You called out while still running. “I think I’ll just keep it forever!”
You could hear Luffy laughing behind you, and you knew he was planning another attack. 
“In your dreams!” You heard something slingshot past you, but you didn’t bother looking to see what body part it was this time. You just kept running.
And then you were at the bow of the ship, and you realized you were cornered. You scrambled to the top of the figurehead, desperately trying to find a way out of your position.
Rubber arms wrapped around you tightly and secured you to the top of the Sunny’s mane. Luffy had pinned you down, and though you tried to get out, you knew it was futile. 
“Luffy, let me go!”
“Give me my hat back!” He swung up to stand on the figurehead, directly in front of you. His face is twisted in a pout, but you can tell it’s not a serious one. 
“Take it back yourself if you want it so badly!”
He pulls himself closer to you, trying to get his arm free enough to grab his hat off your head. But he’s stretched out as much as he can, and his arms are tangled up in eachother. 
You laugh out loud at the realization that both of you are stuck in a strange stalemate. You can’t be freed without giving his hat back, and he cant get his hat back without freeing you. 
“Is there anything else I can offer up in exchange for my release?” You smirk, and he knows he won’t get his hat back yet. Not that he minds. He likes chasing you around. 
With you this close, he notices how your lips are shining against the sun. You must’ve put on that lip gloss before you took his hat. 
“I want to try your lipgloss.”
You giggle, assuming his mind was always on food. “Sure, but that’s in my pock-”
He cuts you off as his lips press against yours, his tongue licking your lips to gain entry to the rest of you. For a second you tense, shocked that he would be so bold, but then you relax into his touch, letting him explore the inner parts of your mouth. Finally. 
You feel his arms release you from captivity, and his hands rest on the back of your head, pulling you into him further. You stand there together, liplocked for a moment, before he finally breaks away from you, his eyes clouded and dazed.
“That tasted great! Let’s do it again some time.”
You leap off of the figurehead and back onto the deck, his hat still atop your head, racing away from him and laughing for the whole Grand Line to hear. “You’ll have to catch me first!” 
Ace
Ways to unintentionally get Ace to burst into flames:
The way you are always touching his shoulder to get his attention. Anytime you say “Oh, Ace!” it’s always accompanied by a soft touch or an eager tap on his shoulder. He loves your excitement and your eagerness to share things with him
Whenever your confidence comes through, he swoons. You don’t take shit from any other crew members, and you never let people talk over you. He loves watching you hold your own against others. He’s always ready to jump in if he needs to, but he gets so giddy watching you yell at other people and stand your ground.
You are always making fire jokes. Sometimes it annoys him when other people do it, but never with you. You’ll spot him in a crowd and yell “Oh, I knew it got hotter in here!” and it makes him want to melt into a puddle. You’ll eye him and joke “You look hot today,” and the shock and embarrassment will ALWAYS make little flames appear across his body, to which you follow up “No, Ace. Now you’re literally on fire.” You know you’re the one who sparks it, but you still find it funny nonetheless.
--
“Like hell you can beat me!” 
He heard your voice ring out across the deck of the Moby Dick, and he shuffled through the crowd to find you in a stand off against Curiel. You both raised your tankard, hit them together, and down the grog in a matter of seconds. 
You slammed your tankard on the ground moments before Curiel, and the crowd erupted into cheers at your victory. Ace found himself laughing along with everyone, proud of your accomplishment. 
“She’s something, huh?” Marco’s voice came from behind him, and he turned to face his fellow commander. 
“She told me she’s working her way through drink offs with all of the commanders,” Ace replied with a soft chuckle. “Looks like she’s making progress.”
Marco snorted at the thought. “I’ll be impressed if she ever faces off with either of us.”
Hands reached around from behind him, and fingers danced across his chest, giving him goosebumps. “Ace,” you whined in his ear, and his entire body tensed at your closeness. “Give me a piggyback ride back to my bed please.”
Marco raised an eyebrow at him, and Ace blushed as you jumped up without waiting for a response, certain he would wrap his strong arms around your legs and carry you. And he did. 
“You can walk you know, Y/N,” Marco said, watching your head rest against Ace’s, your eyes already beginning to close. 
“Ace is more comfortable,” you mumbled, rubbing your body against his bare skin to prove it. “He’s hot, you know.”
Ace’s body erupted in small harmless flames at your comment, and Marco burst out laughing. The second division commander got flustered so easily, if you were the one complimenting him. 
“Let’s go,” Ace grumbled, hauling you away from Marco and off to your room. 
He walked silently through the corridors, painfully aware of where all your bare skin was touching his. Your fingers laced together on his chest. Your arms atop his shoulders. Your face, resting against the back of his head and on his neck. His hands held the underside of your thighs, and your inner thighs pressed tightly into his back and his waist. There was so much of you, so close to him. 
He placed you gingerly on the bed and covered you with a blanket. He tiptoed out, giving you one last look before he closed the door. 
“Come join me,” you called from your bed, hoping he hadn’t already left yet. 
Ace’s face flushed, and he stepped back inside your room to close the door, hoping nobody heard. “In bed?”
You hummed in agreement, patting the empty bed beside you. 
“I cant,” Ace stammered, trying to think of some kind of reason to avoid a night of torture for him. He didn’t want you to regret anything in the morning. “I’m, uh, dirty.”
“Join me in the shower then? If you prefer,” Your voice was devious and gleeful at the same time. He could hear the smile spreading over your lips as you spoke, and he realized he had caught fire from embarrassment again. 
He wished he had said something witty, or cocky, or said anything really, but all he could do was swing your door open, run out, and close it quickly. 
“Goodnight Aceee!!” You sang from the other side of the door. He could hear your giggles and he ran down the hallway, too flustered to put his own flames out.
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p0orbaby · 3 months
Text
For a Good a Time, Call…
summary: you send a nude to the wrong number, you don’t expect what happens next.
warnings: Leah, yeah that’s a warning, suggestive themes
a/n: one of my favourite of bits of writing ngl
word count: 2.1k
part 2 | part 3
-
You’ve never felt dread like it.
“Shit shit shit!” You repeat as you try and stop the message from sending.
The woosh and the delivered sign told you it had already been spat out into the ether. You want to leave the city. The country even. Perhaps fill the next available spot on a space shuttle.
All of the above possibilities rattle through your brain as you pull your t-shirt down from where it was hitched around your neck. Yank your shorts up from where they lay low on your hips.
“I’m dead. I am so dead!”
If your heart wasn’t racing before, it definitely was now.
Panic sets in as you contemplate the impending fallout. Terrible thoughts race through your mind, and you highly consider drafting an apology that somehow erases the embarrassment. The gravity of the situation hangs heavy, and groveling seems like the only viable option.
Could she get you benched? Maybe. Could she stop you from getting another international call up? You really fucking hoped not.
In the midst of your demise, you realise another sorry soul will have to bear the consequences of your actions. Bar Girl. The intended recipient of the half naked photo you signed, sealed and delivered to someone else.
You decide, rightly or not, that she has now become collateral damage. And the decision to ghost her emerges as a seemingly reasonable response.
The potential repercussions from your inadvertent exposure now cast a grim shadow on all aspects of your life, making abandoning Bar Girl a desperate attempt to shield yourself from further embarrassment.
The idea of changing your identity hovers temptingly in your periphery.
Desperation takes hold, and for a moment, you entertain the delusional thought that maybe you had imagined the whole debacle in some lustful daze. However, when a subtle movement on screen catches your attention, reality hands you a more damning blow – the weight of the situation crashes down as ‘read’ replaces the once-hopeful ‘delivered’.
Acknowledgement from Leah has shifted from a delivery confirmation to active viewing.
As if it had just set alight in your hands, you hurl your phone across the room. The reality sets in that there’s no turning back; the message, along with its aftermath, is now etched into the digital realm.
The room echoes with the crash of your phone meeting the wall. As the device lies discarded, its screen cracked, you’re left to face the reality that there’s no undoing the chain of events.
In a desperate release, you roll over and scream into your pillow until the muffled sound becomes an agonizing buzz in your ears.
-
The next day hits hard as you trudge into the changing room. You barely slept. Tossing and turning most of the night in an anxious bubble. And when exhaustion finally took over, your dreams were more like nightmares.
You were tempted to call in sick. But you decided that wallowing in your own despair would probably just make matters worse. So you settled on a compromise.
Avoid Leah at all costs.
Your hood hangs low over your face as you pass by several of your teammates and make a silent beeline for your cubby. But that may have piqued their interests more, as Beth finds herself invading the space you so desperately crave.
“You look rough. Bar Girl give you a run for your money?”
“Something like that” you grumble, hands making quick work of unpacking your bag.
She hums at you and smirks at how disheveled you look when your hoodie comes off. You know where her mind has gone, but you don’t try and dissuade her from writing an excuse for you.
“So, when are you going to make it official then? You’ve been talking for almost a month right?” Beth asks, her eyes flitting around your face and down your neck in search of marks left behind.
You offer a noncommittal shrug. “I’m not sure if I will. I’ve still got the feelers out” you reply, the words sounding awkward and detached even to your own ears.
Beth raises an eyebrow, you gather it’s not the response she expected. Especially from you.
“That doesn’t sound like you���
“No?”
“I thought you were all about the long game?”
You offer a half-smile, choosing your words carefully. “Opinions change, you know?” you reply, slipping your training kit over your head and turning away to fold your discarded clothes, hoping she’d get the point.
Beth studies you for a moment, her eyes searching for something beyond the surface. “Fair enough. Keep us posted though yeah? She seemed nice”
You wince at her words. Jesus, you felt like a bitch, but you nod anyway. It seems to do enough. When you hear her walk away, you release a breath.
“Oh” she voices unexpectedly behind you, and you immediately tense up again. “Leah’s asking for you”
You turn on your heels, spinning so fast you almost topple over. “Did she say what it was about?” You ask. You try not to seem nervous but the sweat above your brow is giving you away.
“No. Just that she wants you to meet her in the gym when you’re ready”
You nod again, and swallow hard. Your throat was dry and you felt like you could pass out. “Sure, yeah. I’ll head there in a second”
Beth eyes you again suspiciously but when she eventually turns and leaves the room, you’re left to grapple with your jitters in solitude
“Shit” you mutter to yourself. And as you stand there trying to regain yourself, it becomes very apparent that you don’t actually have a back up plan.
If you really do lose minutes on the pitch, your career could be on the line.
Conscious that you've already left her waiting too long, you dart out of the room with a newfound sense of urgency.
The corridors blur as you navigate the familiar path, the door to the gym looming larger with each stride. And when you get there you’re out of breath and clammy.
Is it weird to say you're grateful that a door handle is cold against your skin? Perhaps, but you are. It grounds you a little as you stand there panicking.
Taking a moment to collect yourself, you open the door and step into the gym at last. The air feels charged with anticipation as you brace yourself for a meeting that could have repercussions far beyond the boundaries of the training facility.
But Leah is nowhere to be found. The lights are all off and the room looks the same as it was left the day before.
Is Beth having you on? Or is Leah trying to mess you around, torture you until you break down and leave on your own accord.
Don’t be so silly. She wouldn’t do that, would she?”
“Hey”
You jump out of your skin as the silence is disrupted. You turn in fright and she’s lucky she’s so far away because you're a fighter, not a flighter, and you’re sure you would’ve punched her straight in the face.
“Why the hell are you hiding in the dark? You idiot!” you blurt out, the initial shock now giving way to frustration. The tables have turned, and you can’t help but question Leah’s peculiar choice of location for this conversation.
Leah lets out a short laugh. “Hiding? I wasn’t hiding. Just needed to grab a few things from the cupboard”. She lifts up her hands to showcase the foam rollers you deduce she was looking for.
“Beth said you wanted to talk”
“That’s right”
“Do I need to ask what it’s about?”
She laughs again and you start to lose your patience a little. She notices and glances at you with a more serious expression when you don’t look impressed, so she gestures for you to join her in a quieter corner of the gym.
“I get it; the suspense isn’t helping,” Leah admits, her tone softening. “But you’re not stupid. I think you know why I’ve called you in here”
As you follow her, Leah’s demeanor takes an unexpected turn. The serious expression gives way to a playful twinkle in her eye. “Didn’t know you were into that kind of thing. Nudes, I mean,” she teases, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. “Nipple piercings too? You’ve been hiding some interesting secrets, haven’t you?”
Leah’s teasing catches you off guard, and your words stumble over each other as you stammer, “I, uh, well, it’s not—I mean, I didn’t…”
“Don’t get all nervous on me now” she says as she perches on the edge of a massage table. “You seemed pretty confident last night”
You attempt to salvage some dignity, but Leah’s mischievous grin suggests she’s thoroughly enjoying your discomfort. “I didn’t mean to send it to you. It was a mistake”
“No?” She pops her bottom lip out in a pout. “That’s a shame”
You feel a knot forming in your stomach, and your attempts to defend yourself only seem to fuel Leah’s amusement. “I-I…” you struggle to form a coherent response. And you silently curse yourself for not being able to hold your ground.
“If not me, then who?” She asks as if it’s any of her business. If you weren’t so stunned by the whole thing you’d have told her to fuck off. But the words don’t quite make it past your lips, and you find yourself at her mercy. “I won’t judge”
There’s a pregnant pause where you decide if you should tell her. Then with a reluctant sigh, you decide to reveal the truth. “Someone… a girl I met last month”
“Bar Girl” she deduces.
You were never really close to Leah. You played for the same teams, sure. But you never frequent the same social circles. Not really. So to find out she knows about what you get up to in your free time is a little jarring.
“Yeah, her,” you admit, feeling exposed in a way that extends beyond the painful fact she’s seen your tits.
“Hm” is all she says before she holds her hand out to you. And you take it without even thinking.
“You know” she starts. Settling you so your front is almost flush against hers as you stand between her legs. “I’ve always wondered what you’ve been hiding under that jersey of yours” she finishes, tucking some stray hairs behind your ear. Her fingers brushing your skin and setting it on fire.
“The same parts as you, I’m guessing”
“Funny”
“I do try”
There’s another lull, and in the silence you swear you can hear your heart beating.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Her question is barely above a whisper.
You shake your head no. Because she isn’t making you uncomfortable. Confusing you, yes. Intriguing you, certainly. But uncomfortable? Not exactly.
Leah leans back slightly, studying your expression. “Good, wouldn’t want to cross any lines.” Her fingers continue to play with your hair, a casual touch that feels anything but.
“Lines can be subjective” you say, your eyes trained on hers as you watch her mouth pull into a smirk.
Where this new found confidence has come from you don’t know.
“Can they?” She questions. Her eyes glint as she tilts her head to the side. Is she mocking you?
“Sometimes”
She likes your answer, you think, despite the still of her hands in your hair. Because her expression shifts and she leans in, her gaze dropping to your mouth.
“Interesting,” she murmurs, untangling your hair from her fingers and brushing her thumb over your bottom lip. You catch a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes as she notices the blush deepening on your cheeks.
Without breaking her eyes from yours, Leah leans in just enough to tease. Close enough that you can feel each breath angst your skin. Far enough away that it’s infuriating. Then she pulls away, leaving you hanging on the edge of anticipation.
Then she’s gone.
You stand frozen while she unfurls herself away from you, sidestepping from the space she occupied between you and the massage table.
You only turn when she clears her throat behind you.
“Message me again sometime?”
The way she asked was softer than you expected. Softer than how she was talking to you for the last five minutes. It catches you off guard and a response gets stuck in your throat again.
You nod because that seems to be your default reaction to all of her questions. A smirk must be hers to you, because she flashes another one in your direction.
With that, she was gone. Leaving you alone in the dark with a skip in your pulse and two discarded foam rollers at your feet.
And a sneaking suspicion your spot for both club and country were going to be okay.
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pokegalla · 2 months
Text
Requested/traded by @veiled-rebel
I actually forgot about this one??? Well fuck it. Part 2 but whole different fandom-
Angel Dust and Husk with a crazy rich S/o who loves spoiling them
Angel Dust:
* Oh he knew you were rich honey, let’s be honest. You got the cash, he’ll flirt and get some after a quick fuck. A win win scenario. At least….that was his initial intentions. But damn he actually started liking you. You were….different to say the least. You both exchanged numbers and the rest is history✨
* He had his guard up when you kept spoiling him. Did you want another favor? Did you need something from him? No? Just a gift? He’s not used to so much gifts without expecting bad news attached to it. He might need some time to get used to it…..(constant reassurance really helps too!)
* Once he’s more comfortable, he’ll happily wear the outfits you picked out for him! Even on the outings to the mall or fancy restaurants! But honestly nothing makes him feel more comfortable with you than you giving him so much freedom as well. You gave him your credit card?! To buy anything he wants?! That’s a major trust thing holy shit- he almost feels like he’s using you. But your reassurance makes him feel at ease.
* He’s never felt this loved before….and he’s got you to thank.
Mini story time!!!
You watched as the spider demon came downstairs. Your face flushed as you saw him wearing the dress you had bought that was custom made just for him. He chuckled and closed your jaw that was hanging low from shock.
“Gonna attract flies hun,” he chuckled, a little flattered at your reaction as well.
“Heh….i hope I’m attracting your kisses too,” You answer back with a playful grin.
Angel giggled a little, “Keep that up and you’ll be attracting MUCH more tonight~” You both share a kiss and walk out together, hand in hand with no shame as all of hell watched you too. You didn’t mind what they said. What mattered was him and his happiness.
That was enough for you❤️
Husk:
* He knew instantly you were a rich kinda person. As a bartender, he picks up on stuff like this all the time. He actually didn’t like you at first. Thought you were some kind of showboat. But you did shock him when you said you were more focused on him than anything else. He was a tough nut to crack but after many visits to his bar and getting to know each other, he FINALLY gave you a chance.
* Spoiling this lil shit was HARD. He didn’t like a lot of things. But you did get his favorite booze. And booze of all kinds. He actually was impressed by how much you knew but told you not to spoil him so much- but his favorite gift was a cute bow tie you got for him. He wears it to special events✨
* You really do try to respect his wishes on not spoiling him but seeing him look so exhausted after a long day of dealing with crap at his bar? Oh you HAVE to do something! So slick little you actually decided on the perfect date! A date to the spa! You never seen him get so relaxed before! Thoooough he did figure out you were trying to spoil him again…but this time he won’t complain✨
* He finds it hard to argue when you look so happy…..
Mini story time!!!
“Yah think yah reeeeal slick don’tcha?” Husk said suddenly while sipping his martini.
CURSES- he’s figured it out already?! You had JUST finished the massages! Oh damn here comes the scolding….huh? Wait he’s giving you a headpat?
“I’ll hand it to yah. I didn’t even realize it. I’ll let yah get away with this one…..” He grumbled a bit.
Your eyes sparkles, “HAH!!! FUCK YEAH!!!”
He actually smiles a little as he sees you practically glowing, so happy that you spoiled him. You were so weird…..
Fuck he loves you-❤️
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