#also in all honesty this didn't turn out exactly how i wanted it to look but considering a whole week went by where i thought
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They lay down in the soft sand at the foot of the dunes, and then they heard the first bird calling.
#will parry#lyra silvertongue#his dark materials#the amber spyglass#hdm fanart#doodles and miscellania#plus pan and kirj are off there in the distance...#happy bench day folks <3#someone was playing a very bittersweet piano tune somewhere outside my window as i drafted this.....kinda magical timing. anyway!#why did i choose to draw the dunes this year you may ask?#i don't really have a good reason i just felt like it :)#also in all honesty this didn't turn out exactly how i wanted it to look but considering a whole week went by where i thought#i might not get the chance to even START midsummer art i'm gonna take the win at getting it to this point#i miss!! sharing art!! so i'm gonna share it now
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DPxDC Constantine Is Having Fae Problems
Not as in 'problems with the fae', but as in 'the Batfam don't understand shit about fae and it is somehow Constantine's problem'
"Thank you."
Whatever thoughts Constantine had before come to a screeching halt. He slowly turns around, praying he's misheard, but, unfortunately, no. He heard that right.
The black-haired kid - he looks like a kid, but, really, he is not, and he is not even human to begin with - is smiling at Nightwing, who just laughs and ruffles the boy's hair.
"Don't worry about it, it's nothing," the moronic eldest batkid says, like it's not a big deal, and Constantine just... can't. He is not dealing with this right now. He needs a drink.
And then it happens again. Not with the Nightwing, though. This time, it's Black Bat. Now, in all honesty, Constantine is not so sure about her being human either, what with her appearing out of goddamn aether and being silent as a ghost, but the point still stands. The new addition to Bat's menagerie of children, the fae boy, the changeling who insists he is Robin's brother, thanks her.
It's quick and easy, just like a human would say it, and Black Bat just nods back at him, but Constantine knows what it means. He knows the weight of fae gratitude.
The big question is, do the Bats know it?
He promises himself to address this issue later with the Big Bat himself. But every time he encounters the man, he just forgets to bring it up. Constantine strongly suspects it's not his bad memory at fault here, but a certain fae. Not that he is going to outright go and blame the damned creature, of course, Constantine values his life, mind, and consciousness. Also, he is very aware of the consequences of talking to the fae, unlike the furry brigade.
Alas, he can't forget something if he witnesses with his own eyes. So the next time he is in the Batcave, he makes it a point to wait until the same thing eventually happens. And, score for Constantine, it does.
"Thank you," the kid - again, not a kid, not a human, but whatever - tells Red Robin, and Constantine immediately snaps his head to him, pointing a finger at the smiling fae.
"I mean no disrespect, but what are you doing?"
The kid - Danny, as he insists to be called, although Constantine knows better than to call a fae by any name - tilts his head to the side. He looks confused, but there's a sly glint to his blue eyes. Oh, the fucker knows exactly what he means. He just doesn't want to admit to it.
"What do you mean?" It's not him, but Red Robin asking, and Constantine turns to look him in the eyes. Mask. Whatever.
"He is thanking-" a terrible thought crosses Constantine's mind, and he stares at Red Robin with horror, "Oh, don't tell me you were all thanking him and apologizing to him like he is a human being."
"I don't see how this is your business," Red Robin scolds, and his eyes narrow. Constantine can't see his actual eyes through the mask, but he knows the Bats well enough to know the kid looks as deadpan as he can.
"You can't do that!" He reaches down to the pocket where he keeps his cigarettes, but stops halfway. Right, no smoking in the Batcave. Wait, he never obeyed that rule! Constantine turns to glare at the fae boy. Danny appears as innocent as a newborn baby. Little bastard.
"Quit making a scene," comes another voice, and this one John recognizes, turning to look at little Robin. Now that he thinks about it, the demonic child claimed the fae as his brother, and he definitely should know how to talk to fae!
"Why didn't you tell them about the rules?!" He asks Robin, and the kid doesn't even bat an eye at him.
"You will not accuse me of incompetence in front of my brother," Robin huffs, not stepping closer and keeping one hand on his hip, "I did."
"You-"
"Okay, how about you calm down?" Danny interjects, and John is positive this is the first time he's heard the boy say anything other than 'thank you'. He turns to the fae, facing him, and, oh, Jesus, those are not human eyes. Or teeth. Or face. Holy fuck how do Bats live with this, it's like uncanny valley but hundreds times worse.
"If I tell you I use it for easier access, will you leave it be?" The fae tilts his head again, and this time it is not in confusion, but in the eerie manner of how all very much not human beings do it. Constantine swallows, but doesn't back down.
"Access to what, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Transportation," Danny provides. This does not explain shit and he knows it. Red Robin groans and rolls his eyes.
"We use it to summon Danny if we need him. It's faster than calling or texting."
Constantine freezes.
These fucking kids. Are using the fae debts. To summon him. Because they don't like texting.
Do they know that they can literally ask a fae to destroy a small country to fulfill a debt like that? It's not just a small favor, it's a gratitude. Fae take their gratitude very seriously. They value it. A lot.
Actually, you know what, no. John is not going to be explaining that part to them because God knows the batkids are all batshit crazy and this is an opportunity he is not willing to give them.
So he just nods stiffly, turns around, and heads to the zeta tube.
"Thank you for caring about my family," he hears a voice behind him, full of mischief and joy. Constantine feels the weight of the newly acquired debt, or better call it a favor, bind itself to his soul, and, great, he now has the power to part the sea like Moses, but only once.
He needs a drink. No, correction, he needs a whole bar to himself.
Wait, that's an idea.
"Get me a bottle of good bourbon, and we're even," he throws around his shoulder, stepping into a zeta tube.
When he steps out of it, there's an unlabeled bottle in his hand. John sighs and opens it, foregoing the glass or cup and drinking straight from the neck.
...It's good bourbon.
Inspired by @blackfoxsposts
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#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#batfam#tim drake#damian wayne#batman#john constantine#fae#fae au#fae!danny#cork writes#cork prompts#changelings#changeling au
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🩺 Protect and Serve 🩺
Spencer Reid x stripper! Female Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge
Summary: Spencer makes a fool of himself in front of a very pretty nurse. Who turns out to not be a nurse at all, but a stripper.
Warnings: Erotic dance, pole dancing, uniforms, doctor play (?), semi-public sex, fingering, strip tease, nipple play, use of birth control - condoms, penetrative sex (PinV).
A/N: He's protecting, she's serving cunt. That's the pairing dynamic for this fic. I love writing Spencer as dumb because he does canonically lose it around hot people, and we, dear readers, are all hot people. I added the strip tease song below of you want to really get in the mood!
Masterlist || Bingo Board
“Okay, everyone, listen up,” Hotch called out to the masses, the three teams of officers, and his own team who were lined up and ready to receive orders.
“We're going to do a simple canvass. Ask anyone you spot if they've seen our missing person and if they've seen any suspicious activity around the area in the last month. You have further lines of questioning laid out in your briefs. Also, we have no reason to believe the unsub will be hunting right now, so we're going to be canvassing individually.”
The crowd nodded in a wave of understanding, taking the information as it came before getting ready to receive their areas to work in.
Spencer had devised the map himself, so he didn't have to wait in line, instead, walking to his corner of the block and getting himself ready for interactions.
The clock struck 11, and he began, waiting for the usual shaky characters of the night to stroll out onto the streets. After a series of abductions from this area, and the general disrepair of all local CCTV cameras, the BAU knew exactly where their unsub was hunting from, but not the how, the why, or the who.
In a last ditch effort, they'd turned to goodwill from the public.
“Excuse me, sir, do you have a few minutes to answer some ques-”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Okay, have a great evening.”
For the best part of the first hour, all of his interactions were the same repeat of hostility and general apathy. For long stretches of time, nobody walked by at all, and some were even growing frustrated by being accosted by multiple law enforcement officers within the hour.
He'd almost lost hope for a lead when the clock struck twelve, and you'd ran around the corner, nearly bowling him over as you raced to get to work.
“Shit, oh, I'm sorry-” you said, realising you'd landed in a soft place, and not on the tarmac you knew from experience was a pain. He'd accidentally broken your fall and was all the more sorry for it.
“No, it's okay… ah, um, it's not that bad.”
You stood yourself up, removing yourself from the body of the stranger. The body of the man wearing an FBI jacket, who you now recognised as being with one of the dozen or so cops that had stopped you in your dash from your car (parked further downtown so it wouldn't get stolen) to your place of work.
“Oh, god, I'm so sorry, officer. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry,” you mumbled again and again as you offered him a hand up. He took it hesitantly, grabbing his papers as he jumped on this opportunity to have a conversation with the first normal looking person he'd come across in an hour.
If he'd been less eager, less tired, and in all honesty, less immediately attracted to you he'd have realised that you had a destination in mind. One that, while being above board mostly, still made you weary of cops.
“It's Agent actually - Doctor, but- anyway, um, could I possibly have a few minutes of your time? We're looking into a recent string of abductions in the area, and we’re asking if you've seen anything out of the ordinary.”
You stood trapped by his surprisingly wide frame, his height dwarfing you by a few inches and the path being just narrow enough that you either had to decline politely, or just push past him to keep going.
Unfortunately, you, too found him slightly too attractive than you were willing to admit, attractive enough that you'd gladly miss out on a half hours worth of tips to answer questions you'd honestly already answered before now. You'd always been weak for a man in uniform.
“I-I guess so. This will only be a few minutes, right?”
“Of course, I wouldn't want to keep you from your work,” he said, gesturing down at your outfit. If it weren't for his totally genuine tone, you'd have thought he was being cruel.
Usually, you didn't show up for work in your performance clothes, trying not to draw any more attention to yourself on the streets at midnight, but you'd been forced to that day.
It was Uniform Day at the strip club, and your boss was entirely too cheap to buy the Uniforms himself, and absolutely cruel enough to penalise anyone who showed up without some kind of costume. Your nurse outfit had been in transit and out for delivery since 10 am. that morning, arriving exactly 10 hours later.
It wasn't exactly a realistic cosplay. Sure there was a cute pen clip, and you were technically wearing scrubs, but they were also skin tight, and you knew for a fact that your nipples were hard and visible through the thin material, because taking a glance down, even you could see them.
“Do you usually work the night shift?” He asked, bringing his clipboard up to take notes of your answers.
He absolutely did not know you were a stripper.
“Yeah. We don't really get many people in during the day. Too embarrassing, not the time for it.”
He nodded and tried to pretend like he was writing something of merit down, but secretly, he was very much enjoying the curves Of your body as the tight material hung off your body.
The “scrubs” were baby blue but he had no doubt that if the heavens opened right, then they'd become as see-through as cling film.
He, too, wanted to cling to you.
“Have you noticed anyone suspicious in the area recently, anything new or out of the ordinary?”
“I mean, I couldn't possibly say. You know how this neighbourhood is, it's… well, it's not exactly the safest.”
He nodded again and acted out sympathy, unaware how the feeling should feel now that he was faced with a woman so perfect that he'd entirely lost the ability to process emotions.
“Right, right…”
You stood for another moment or two, waiting for his follow up question, but his eyes raked over you in a way you were entirely familiar with. Unlike your usual clientele though, he snapped himself out of it, and had the wherewithal to look bashful.
“Ask about victim, no leading questions,” he read quickly, before looking up at you and stammering through a new question.
“S-so. Are there usually a lot of women walking around this area alone at night?”
You did your nest to hold off a smile, to stay serious as he made the best of the script he was given.
“Yeah, a few of the places have staff on hand to protect the girls, but my place is mostly women. We stick together as best as we can, but a client or two gets too attached now and again,” he nodded.
“Patients can often become infatuated with their care staff,” he said, and he was so earnest that you wanted to take everything back and let him go. You wanted to see how long it would take him to realise there was only one body part you and your colleagues cared for.
“I did think the industry was becoming more gender inclusive. Are there no men on staff?”
“Oh, yeah. We have men, too. They're mostly request only, though, so we don't see them every day.”
“Fascinating! You know, believe it or not, anthropologically, humans are predisposed to view women as more caring and are 9 times out of 10 more likely to ask for women to care for them, the gender of the patient doesn't impact the data.”
“Oh, I can believe it.”
You smiled at him, and he looked taken aback for a minute or two. He finished by smiling back, and you definitely found this conversation worth as much as you'd lost in tips in the last half hour. You were half tempted to invite him back to the club with you for the night, to thank him for providing you with motivation for the night ahead.
“Um, so, if you do see anything in the future, you can call the police and here is my number,” he said, scrawling something down quickly on a piece of paper and handing it off to you.
“Oh. Oh, um, right, number. Uh,” you said, rooting around in your purse for your own business card to hand off to him. Partly because you wanted to resolve his misunderstanding, and partly just because you wanted to see what this overly respectful man would do with it.
“Candy Cayne,” he read, obviously looking past the body glitter that covered the cars and everything else you owned.
“Well, my real name is Y/N, but you can't be too safe these days.”
“Right,” he said, smiling again.
If these were the FBI agents put on the case of making your city safer, maybe you'd invest in a good taser and some more pepper spray.
Just in case.
“Spencer, over here!” One of the other agents you'd already spoken to called out from a block down the street, and hastily, Spencer Reid excused himself and let you finally continue on your way to work.
You had to convince yourself you weren't disappointed.
Morgan’s brows were furrowed as Spencer reached him.
“Why were you interviewing the stripper again, I already got her information when she came by me.”
“Stripper? What stripper?”
“You gotta be kidding me.”
Morgan looked at the younger man incredulously before turning him around with a hand on his shoulder and pointing in your direction.
“That stripper, Spencer.”
He couldn't help but let his eyes trail down to your ass as you quickly walled off, hips swaying perfectly, showing off your complete assets in the tight outfit.
“She's a nurse,” he defended, even as the blood drained from his face.
“Uh-huh, and what's her name?”
“...Candy Cayne,” he paused for a second before turning back to Morgan with a stricken expression on his face.
“Oh my god, she's a stripper.”
Five hours into your shift, and about $800 richer, you found yourself swinging around the pole freely again as your regulars slowly trickled out.
You kept on dancing, though, knowing that the morning crowd was about to get in, the night-shifters that had to wait the entire night to get off on your dancing delights.
Truckers you expected, security guards and night watchmen, too. Even the occasional older gentleman who found it hard to sleep in the mornings, so bored by retirement, they dropped in a few times a day.
What you weren't expecting was Spencer.
You heard the door open, the bell ringing out loudly as all the girls stopped to greet their new target.
“Hello, baby,” one called, the others chorusing around her.
“Oh it's free for you, sweetheart.”
“Wanna take a ride?”
“Aren't you just the cutest.”
Spencer spotted you - and your uniform - very quickly.
As predicted, with a little bit of water, your uniform had gone see through with the tiniest drop of water, the sweat from your ongoing workout and the body oil the matrons lathered you up in before showing off everything.
Still, Spencer tried to keep his gaze polite as he stood awkwardly at the edge of the stage and tried to engage you in conversation.
“Hi,” he said, shouting awkwardly over the music.
You shot him a confused look as you ground against the bar, still enjoying the tips of the last few stragglers. You gave him a confused look as you wrapped yourself around the pole, lifting yourself up and gripping the bar between your legs, pushing your chest backwards as you tipped your head upside down.
“Can we talk?” He asked, and you, slowly but surely, let go of the bar, ending on the floor with your legs spread wide as the few men enraptured by you wolf whistled and swore.
Finally, Spencer's bashful gaze dropped from your face as he stared at your scantily clad cunt.
The baby blue underwear - though you could barely call it underwear as you were barely wearing it - was most definitely not leaving enough to the imagination. Combined with the very clear view of your boobs, Spencer wasn't surprised when his IQ abandoned him, rushing to his second head to let it make mistakes.
“I'm sorry, officer,” you said, winking at him as you crawled forward, collecting tips as you went. “If my boss sees me talking to you instead of working, I can get fired. Tell me you've got at least a twenty on you.”
He scrambled for his wallet, pulling out all the cash he had and holding out a few dollars to you as you watched him.
He looked away again, just as you leaned down to take it, and you pouted again.
“Come on, sir,” you said, wiggling your ass a little to keep the other men entertained while you wore down at his morals. “You have to stick it down my shirt or something. Make it believable.”
His eyes snapped back to yours, and then immediately to your chest as you sat back on your knees and began playing with yourself, grabbing your tits and bouncing up and down as you showed off your special ‘skills.’
Hesitantly, he reached out a hand, and, hating how slow he was going, you met him halfway, pushing your chest into his open hand.
Though he was apprehensive, his body seemed able to take advantage quickly, and upon depositing the cash, he let his hand trace down the curve of your breast, squeezing it a little.
“I came to apologise-” he started, trying to remind himself to stick to the script he created for himself.
You didn't want to stick to any script.
“Boss, I've got a private dance!” you shouted out to the bar staff, getting a thumbs up from the manager there and a call back of a room number.
You grabbed the rest of the cash from his hands and lifted a hand so he could help you down the stage stairs, leading him quickly to a private room and closing the door.
“T-There’s been a mistake, I just came to apologise for my unnecessary comments earlier, and-” he paused, hands lifting up in surrender as you straddled him.
“What are you doing?”
“You can talk, but you paid for a dance. I thought this would be better for you, more private.”
“Oh, yes, thank you, that's very considerate.”
You nodded and began raking your nails down the front of his shirt, loosening his tie a little as you rose on your knees and gyrated your hips.
His gaze locked eyes with your chest, and for a moment, you worried he wasn't breathing anymore, his entire body having stilled. Then you rocked your hips down into his lap, and you realised he wasn't still but stiff.
He was rock fucking hard.
You grinned, and tried to pick the conversation back up with a casual tone.
“So how is canvassing going?”
“Hmm?” He said, unlearning. “Oh, uh. Good. We have a few leads we're going to investigate in the morning.”
“It is the morning, officer.”
He nodded and gulped, but his gaze had rested gently against your bare skin again.
You decided to treat him.
Standing back up, you grabbed the room control and queued up your favorite track to dance with. The private sances were usually boring, a constant reminding of ‘don't touch the dancers’ dropping from your lips as you half-heartedly rocked back and forth.
Unsurprisingly, though, you actually wanted this man to touch you.
Spencer willed his brain to quiet, though as it had taken up residence in his pants, he doubted it could hear any of his requests.
The opening lines of "I Put a Spell on You" by Annie Lennox played on the quiet room speakers, and you watched his hands clench into his pants.
You took a step forward, pushing your arms up as you swung your hips left and right.
“You said something about an apology earlier, right?”
I put a spell on you. Because you're mine.
“Yes,” he said, restrained to monosyllabic answers as your hands trailed down to your legs, catching the hem of your dress and pulling it up.
You revelled in the way his eyes widened, the way the veins in his hands popped as he grasped himself harder, the hitch in his breathing.
You pulled the offending garment up and danced it off your body until you were stood in just panties and stilettos.
Without flashing him even a hint of your breasts, though, you turned and sat yourself on his lap.
“W-We could've just talked here, right? You don't have to do this if you don't want to.”
“I know,” you said, grabbing his hands and covering your chest with them.
“But you were so earnest earlier, I felt a bit bad too. Let's call this even.”
You didn't get an answer from him, but his hands did start touching you, and you couldn't help but feel as though you'd won anyway.
You better stop the things that you do.
Taking your nipples between his fingers, he squeezed, and your ass pushed down into his cock, back arching as you began rubbing against his legs. You repositioned, letting your knees fall either some of his leg, leaning forward to balance yourself against his knee as you rocked your core into his leg.
“So, what's your name, officer.”
“Spencer-” he sighed, voice warm in your ear as he leaned closer, trying to hook his head over your shoulder to watch the rest of your body writhe.
“Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“Oh, how fancy, a Doctor. I've never had a doctor before,” you said, straightening and grabbing his hands again.
“And what a naughty little nurse I've been,” you giggled.
I tell you, I ain't lyin’.
“I'm not that kind of doctor,” he said, as your hands guided his to your cunt, giving him permission to enter your underwear.
“And as we've established, I'm not that kind of nurse. But I don't mind.”
He muttered to himself for a second before beginning to pay sweet attention to your clit. As bashful, and shy, and overall clumsy he had seemed outside, he absolutely had the theory of pleasure down to a T.
The pads of his fingers were rough against your clit, pushing your pleasure buttons roughly as you soaked his pants.
“That's it, Doctor, that's where the ache was.”
He caught on quickly and kept up his ministrations as you moaned in his lap.
“Ah, fuck. M-Maybe some medicine would help.me Doctor. A nice big injection.”
You stood and almost threw a tantrum at the loss of contact, but you returned yourself to his lap quickly.
He unbuttoned his pants as he stood, and his cock was released and waiting for you when you returned again.
Before you could get to it, though, his face buried itself in your chest.
You moaned at the contact, his tongue swirling around your already painfully sensitive nipples. You humped his leg wantonly, giving up the act and becoming the whore he likely thought you were. It was all too much for you, his hot stare, his surprisingly deft fingers. And then he gently bit your nipple, and your cunt clenched around nothing as you twitched and you came.
“Fuck, cock. Now!” You demanded, as the after waves of your orgasm still rolled through you. You grabbed a condom from the complementary basket nearby and rolled it onto his tip expertly before sinking yourself down on him.
“D-D you feel better now?” He asked, hands gripping the fat of your thighs as tightly as he'd gripped his pants earlier.
“Yes, Doctor Reid!” you said, your bounces sloppy as you stretched yourself around his dick.
He wasn't overly long or ridiculously thick. It was like you'd stumbled into the Goldilock fairy tale, because you'd found the cock that fit you just right.
Your brain short-circuited after your all too fast orgasm, and you moaned pathetically, almost grumpily as you failed to keep up the stamina.
You know better, Daddy. I can't stand it ‘cause you put me down.
As if noticing your distress, Spencer stood slightly, using a nearby table to balance out your additional weight, and finally lowered you onto it. You'd taken no notice of it in the past, but you now thanked the heaven that the table was sturdy and roughly cock height, as he began thrusting into you with just the right speed.
The clock struck six as he licked his fingers again and played with your clit once again, and with a sharp jerk of your hips, your cunt tightened around him and began milking his cock.
He came with a groan, though admittedly one quieter than your own.
I put a spell on you.
With a wet pop, his cock exited you, and he quickly went to work discarding the used condom. You tried to sit up quickly, and were surprised you could manage even that much, as you shimmied back into your wet dress.
“Apology accepted,” you said, as he turned back to you, put together once again.
You turned to leave, but he caught your waist and spun you back around to him. His lips were on yours in a second.
His tongue was hot and thick as it opened your mouth, exploring every inch as he forced you to submit once more. When you pulled back, his hand lightly grazed up the side of your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Yeah. You too. Your apology.”
You couldn't help but let out a giggle as he walked you back toward the door, almost pinning you there for a round two.
“You really thought I was a nurse?”
“It was dark.”
You gave him another peck on the cheek and pulled away, gaining the respectable distance from your customer aa you re-emerged from the private room.
“I get off at 7,” you whispered yo him finally, before making your way back to the bar.
Your doctor sat himself down and waited for the clock to strike 7.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#cmkinkbingo2024#cm writing challenge#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds fanfic#Spotify
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“diamond tiara crushed in two, my heaven crashes down for you”
synopsis - you are a royal, they aren't. would it be such a crime for them to be someone more than a companion of yours?
includes - argenti, aventurine, boothill, sunday, reca
warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, i have no clue what im doing, wc - 2.8k
a/n: ngl this only came about cause my fav artist dropped a new single... something else was inspired by that which idk if i want to work on that onrle rrr
argenti ★↷
↪argenti was once the commander of the knights that protected the region. well, he still was but now most of his time was spent beside you. as your very own personal knight.
↪it was agreed very widely that argenti was by far the best knight in the kingdom. so it was inevitable that he ended up in such a trusted position - and it was also safe to say that your safety was pretty much always guaranteed with him around.
↪naturally, he still held his title as the commander but spent most of his days by your side so normally he would put others in charge in his absence. although in honesty, argenti never minded.
↪argenti enjoyed his job as a knight, he liked helping people out and defending the kingdom he was proud to be part of. a part of him enjoyed the serenity of spending his days with you.
↪most of it tailoring to him following you around as you attended meetings and the occasional trips to the town. and even argenti had a bit more freedom as you always let him do what he wanted but even willingly, argenti would happily spend time with you.
– – –
you walked idly through the corridors, you had nothing to do as of late. bored out of your mind. your only real idea was to head out to the town and see if they had anything to satisfy your boredom, although to do so you thought it may be best to find argenti first.
you knew where to find him however. if you were going out you wanted him to accompany you, not just as your guard but as a companion - you didn't really need a guard in your opinion. but you quickly found the knight in the training grounds.
he was very dedicated to his training. it was always intriguing to you when you did catch him in action - in training or in a real life scenario. so you couldn't exactly help but take a seat nearby and watch as he trained.
you weren't trying to be creepy but it was interesting, and rather entrancing, so you watched. although you should've expected argenti to notice your presence as soon as you sat down. he huffed as he stopped swinging his ornate spear, stabilizing himself, he stopped and turned to you with a smile.
“is there something you need your highness?” argenti slowly walked closer to you and quickly noticed the flushed expression on your face at being caught.
you tried stammering out a response but quickly gave up and broke eye contact looking at the ground. argenti let out a small laugh, “if there's something you require of me, please do let me know”
eventually you managed to piece together a coherent sentence and explained how you wanted to go visit the town for a bit. argenti agreed, like he would ever not agree, and excused himself for a moment to get ready and don his armor.
argenti always loved when he got to accompany you anywhere. your presence was such a joy for him and a selfish part of him enjoyed knowing that he spent the most time with him - argenti knew you enjoyed his presence as well which always made his heart soar.
but he was merely your personal knight. he should be glad to be granted such a title, but when you take him by the hand and lead him to wherever you wanted with that smile on your face, he could convince himself that for a fleeting moment, you two were something more.
aventurine ★↷
↪a diplomatic representative of the stoneheart group who spent their time negotiating and delivering messages between various kingdoms. a neutral group who maintained positive relationships with all kingdoms to survive.
↪aventurine was always responsible for being sent to your kingdom, and so he would always make an appearance when your council met to discuss. a part of you was curious if he'd ever drop his position among the stonehearts to become a permanent member of your council.
↪he always had very valuable insights that always seemed to work towards bettering your kingdom as a whole rather than helping the relationship between the kingdom and the stonehearts. he also spent a decent amount of time rilling up your actual council members.
↪although, nowadays you noticed how he made more frequent visits to your kingdom, and specifically you. aventurine would occasionally come and find you just to drag you away from your duties and hang out - something you never actually minded, even if you should've..
– – –
aventurine walked through the lone halls of your residence, he found it almost laughable how easily the guards let him in, how much they trusted him. he could easily walk in with the wrong intentions and dismantle your kingdom from the inside out but you both knew he wouldn't. which was why he was here now.
bursting through your room's doors, you shot up from your paperwork before relaxing at the sight of the emissarie.
“hello to you too aventurine,” you briefly glanced over to your calendar “what are you doing here? seeing as we have no meetings…”
aventurine smiled as he sat himself on the corner of your desk “do i have to have a reason to see you?” he knew he didn't, he knew you'd always welcome his presence at any time.
“you know you don't want to be stuck here doing..” he looked at what was laid across your desk, making a vague shrugging motion “whatever that is, take a break! we can walk around for a bit!”
you knew you shouldn't listen to him, that he was a bad influence on you. but one look at your desk was enough to convince you that aventurine was right. you'd have even more work to do when you got back but who was going to tell you off? aventurine was definitely one of your best “advisors”.
he smiled when he watched you stand up and he followed suit, already talking about all the things that had happened since he last saw you (which was barely two days) and asking you about what you wanted to do.
suddenly your boring day filled with paperwork was actually going to be exciting, spent with someone you liked as more than one of your emissaries.
boothill ★↷
↪apart of a group of mercenaries known as the galaxy rangers. they take up whatever contract they agree with and pay the most of course. the “galaxy ranger” name is simply a convenient way of finding the best mercenaries in the regions - whether or not someone can get one to work for them is a different story.
↪boothill was once hired by a rivaling kingdom to bring down yours, he didn't exactly agree with his contractor but they did have rather deep pockets. that hesitation of his was what you used to save your kingdom. paying boothill more than what he had previously been offered.
↪and what better way to ensure your kingdom's safety than to constantly ensure boothill worked as a mercenary for your kingdom by paying him. it was a simple solution in your eyes and boothill wasn't going to complain.
↪although as time went on, boothill was seen less as a mercenary and more as a companion - seeing as you spent quite a bit of your free time talking with him and listening to his takes from traveling all over.
– – –
“so tell me again why i’m accompanying ya?” boothill poised as he watched you eye up some shop window displays
you hummed “because i gave argenti the day off for his hard work” turning to face him you continued, “and your nice company”
nice company huh? boothill would've never considered himself to be nice company for anyone but he wasn't going to argue your word. it wasn't entirely uncommon for you to drag him around the town when you were bored, always giving that same excuse or saying something along the lines of being blunt and just wanting to hang out.
boothill would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy this time with you. it was always peaceful, a nice respite from his daily activities - which admittedly became more calm themselves ever since you began paying him to be loyal to your kingdom.
even if you were to stop paying him, he reckoned that he would still never go against your kingdom. there was something about you that was enchanting to the mercenary, no wonder you were royalty. he could spend ages thinking about you, he had no clue why however.
boothill had no idea why he felt this way about you. you were just another stupid royal who was too big for their boots. and yet, he stuck around. he indulged in your conversations and requests, he genuinely enjoyed being around you and-
“say, why don't we stop for lunch on the way back?” your voice broke his chain of thought and that smile of yours practically rendered him entranced
“sure, your choice, your highness” and he reveled in your brightening smile that was caused by him, the one that made his knees weak and he couldn't care less about how you grabbed his hand and practically dragged him away.
sunday ★↷
↪the oh so prestigious high priest of the land. the one in charge of all the churches and so he had a spot on the royal council. not only as the main representative of the churches but also as an advisor.
↪he was a form of spokesperson for the people who confided their issues with him and some of his ideas had helped the kingdom greatly, so he definitely deserved a seat among your council
↪sunday was very reliable. he would always show up to meetings and always ensured that services within the church were planned and carried out to the nest they could be. a man devoted to fulfilling his role. although with how long you'd known him, he had a few flaws.
↪namely his “people problem”. not that he despised anyone but at times he could be quite uptight and rather condescending - namely when discussing with your other advisors which made for quite the trouble occasionally.
↪but you valued his advice and so he kept his position. although you also highly valued his companionship, something he would deny of but secretly indulge in your favoritism of him - like a bird preening in front of a mirror.
– – –
service had finished mere moments ago. sunday sighed and closed up his book as he kept an eye on the last couple stragglers exiting the sermon.
so he couldn't exactly miss the line figure that walked down the aisle to his position. in honesty, even if he did miss it then sunday would know it was you, after all you had developed the rather neglectful habit of visiting him after his services - neglectful as you were obviously shrugging away duties to be here.
his face resumed his stern look that he usually held before he addressed you “your highness, you know you mustn't be here”
but you both knew that even if he sounded annoyed he wasn't. you knew that he enjoyed your clear favoritism to the priest but he cared too much about appearances and positions to let it shine through, in your opinion.
“i don't think i do” you responded, sunday quickly picked up on that playful tone of yours, he knew what he was in for “would you mind enlightening me priest?”
oh aeons how he hated that dumb smile of yours. that stupidly pretty smile that made his heart skip a few beats. no, he couldn't let you break his act down so quickly, that would be embarrassing for him. so he collected himself and answered
“considering i enlightened you yesterday, i have no need to repeat. or is your memory that bad? if so i feel a trip to your healer is necessary then?” when he heard you grumble, he knew he'd managed to save his facade.
this wasn't exactly the first, or even the last, time that you slinked away to spend time with him when he had nothing going on. but you were the monarch. you had duties to attend to and so despite his true wishes of wanting this time with you, he always urged you to go back to your duties.
“fine then” you huffed “i'll be seeing you tomorrow then”
turning on your heel, you began leaving with a stumped sunday who was wracking his brain for any idea of what you meant behind you. but he couldn't think, so he had to ask
“what's tomorrow?” sunday hadn't got anything planned with you tomorrow, yes he had other things but nothing that you should've been aware of
you stopped in your tracks and turned around, feigning shock and hurt, you gasped “don't tell me you forgot! the meeting tomorrow?”
sunday paused, “but that's the day after, no? we agreed so at the last meet”
as soon as that smile of yours widened, it all clicked together in his head “oh it is? my.. well i already have a cleared schedule for that time.. wouldn't want to waste it?”
turning around again you continued, “so ill be seeing you at noon then” before walking away once more
sunday stood in confusion for a moment and before realizing fully and blurting out “you-” but you were already out of earshot, also missing the smile that crept onto his face.
reca ★↷
↪an infamous playwright who recently had taken residence in your kingdom. his plays were known far and wide by everyone, highly praised and honored. people always eagerly awaited even a whisper of what his new creation was.
↪and so naturally, you had become a patron of his. always sponsoring his plays as you were quite the fan yourself. whenever you saw that he had a new play that was being performed, you immediately cleared your schedule for that time and got your ticket - they were always in high demand.
↪reca was faltered that royalty such as yourself was so deeply invested in his writings and he greatly appreciated the sponsorship, it enabled his plays to reach greater heights. and so it was only natural that he started pandering some of his plays to you.
↪more based around subjects that he learnt you loved, your favorite troupes, anything you deemed intriguing and so on. of course, they all came out as hit plays but he knew they were slightly more special than just his average play.
– – –
reca stood from the sideline, hidden behind a deep maroon curtain, as his latest play came to an end. he watched as the actors he so desperately searched for took a bow as gifts were showered upon them for his characters he created for them.
but nowadays, he cared less about audience validation and more about a specific person - yes he still valued the opinion of anyone that saw his plays as that's what kept him going mostly but this play was special. he spent ages driving himself into sleep deprivation and stress trying to perfect it.
all because he tailored it for you.
his number one, and favorite, patron. he'd seen you take your seat and eagerly awaited your critique for his piece. reca wouldn't mind if you didn't pick up on the hints that it was tailored towards you, just as long as you enjoyed it. and his question was soon answered.
reca's ears perked up when he heard your voice call out to him. you shouldn't be backstage, but nobody would stop you. a confident smirk graced his face when you immediately starting rambling about specifics of his play, what you liked the most, how well it flowed etc etc.
he took your praise in strides, even more so when you poised him a question.
“oh! mr reca, you must tell me how you got inspiration for the main character!” you seemed so happy and so rene's smirked widened
“well if you must know your highness, it was about a special patron of mine” reca watched as your face twisted into something akin to confusion as you tried to figure out what that meant.
he nearly laughed when your expression portrayed a more shocked and embarrassed tone, you tried stammering out a sentence “so what about their lover-”
“well a writer must take some creative liberty, no? and one's subconscious might influence those decisions” he held back a laugh as your face flushed.
“your a tease mr reca” you huffed. and he only smiled back as you too let a smile creep onto your face.
taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn
#—stellaronhvnters.#x reader#x gender neutral reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x gender neutral reader#honkai star rail x you#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr x you#hsr argenti#argenti x reader#hsr aventurine#aventurine x reader#hsr boothill#boothill x reader#hsr sunday#sunday x reader#hsr reca#reca x reader#mr reca x reader
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★-Tokyo revengers
- their insecure
๑-Context: them thinking about their crush (you) but then they start to get insecure and self sabotage about not being good enough
๑- featuring: kazutora, chifuyu, keisuke, seishu, rindou
-for seishu it was so hard because I know that boy is perfect-
°- kazutora hanemiya
• everything, he thinks of every little thing about him but manages to miss the bigger parts about him that does need fixing. his main thought was that no one as good as you would want to be seen around someone like kazutora due to his delinquency, heck even if you've also done some bad stuff he's still afraid that he'd just bring you down and be an awful influence on you.
for someone who went to juvenile for 'accidental' murder and is in quite a dangerous gang, thats a good reputation to hold in terms of strength, but for wanting something other than fights and instead something innocent like feeling what it's like to be loved... that's difficult.
• he also still dislikes how his face looks, to others he's handsome. to himself, he's nothing but a shit show that he looks deep and hard in the mirror with a straight face but then his expression changes to disgust.
sometimes he thinks if you've also felt like that, he's asked his friends about that sort of thing and the response is always 'sometimes' but when he thinks about you being insecure he feels like he's gone mad because to him you're absolutely perfect.
°- chifuyu matsuno
• sometimes he feels as if he can't protect you, there are times where he pictures out scenarios and he's afraid that he can't keep you safe due to where gangs would get the innocent involved even when they have nothing to do with either of the two bickering gangs and that always ends badly.
he doesn't want you to become a target and he's scared that his strength alone wouldn't deal with anything and you'd get involved in something that you didn't have a choice in. due to that he's forcing himself to stay away from you but part of him can't, he calls himself selfish for talking to you and going out in public with you where anyone would be watching.
• he wants to make you his but how can he keep you as his when there's a lot of options to choose from? he's afraid that there's someone better than him, that eventually you'd lose interest in chifuyu and that's not because he doesn't trust your trust but he's seen other guys and how they easily attract and how they can go on the day confident, chifuyu can't and he can't see that it's not because there's something wrong with him but it's just because he's not a player and he can't see that for himself or others.
°- Keisuke Baji
• when it comes to Baji he knows hes a good looker and as well as the heart, but sometimes in school he'd see you walk in the hallways and he gets a little embarrassed that he turns the opposite direction in hopes of you not seeing him in his nerdy disguise just so the school doesn't kick him out or hold him back for his delinquency. his slicked back hair that he honestly spends time on and is proud in the moment, but when he looks at it for too long he has to hold back on scruffing it up and going to school like his normal self.
You're aware of how he looks outside of school but not everyone does, he's nervous that if you're seen talking to him then he'd just embarrass you, and because of that he thinks you're embarrassed to talk to him too and you force yourself to, even if you've held conversations for a long amount of time and you seem to enjoy it with a smile Baji has a little worm in his brain telling him otherwise
• held back a year for him failing his exams, sure someone being smart isn't exactly a top priority for some people but he thinks you're one of them and he curses himself for not having the academic smarts for it, he'd sometimes compare himself to someone else in his class and think 'how the fuck are they able to memories this and I can't?' In all honesty though academics is pretty hard when you've got other stuff going on too
°- seishu Inui
• his burn mark isn't exactly something that bothers him but whenever he thinks of you and gets a glimpse of the mark from a window he can't help but think that it bothers you. he tends to get a little frustrated about it and whenever he thinks too much of the mark his frustration ends up in sadness because all the memories of the fire and his sister come rushing in.
• whenever he looks at you he can't keep his eyes away, he's always in awe at everything you do. but what does seishu do? getting hurt in gangs here and there and making bad decisions for himself? he knows his skills and the good of him but he also knows his flaws and he can't stand that. he wants to do so much more but he can't, he doesn't know how to and he doesn't want to disappoint you in any sort of way yet he always manages to disappoint himself
°- rindou haitani
• sometimes he considers himself to be in his brother's shadow, he hasn't thought of it like that at all but rindou would pick some things out and then look at his brother and that sense of being younger than him equals to being lower, his older brother seems to always do great causing jealousy to grow. it's like regular sibling rivalry, nothing major but it does linger around his brain that maybe at somepoint if given the chance you'd run right over to ran inside of rindou
• rindou knows the reputation that he holds, the dangers that he keeps with his gang. and one of those dangers also happens to the innocent. he's been foolish to be part of those sort of things before and karma always plucks out the ones that finally find something to be happy about. he doesn't want you to accidentally get involved and get hurt or even killed.
considering that the haitani brothers are quite well known if anyone were to see the sentimental value that rindou has for you, then you will become a target from other gangs that want to take the brothers down. rindou looks through multiple of scenarios as to how or where that could happen and in all of those scenarios the date is all unexpected. rindou's afraid that he'd be the reason to you getting hurt from someone else and he won't be there.
♡---
#tokyo revengers#kazutora#kazutora hanemiya#baji keisuke#baji#baji x reader#kazutora x reader#chifuyu x reader#matsuno chifuyu#chifuyu#seishu inui#inui#rindou#rindou haitani#rindou x reader#seishu x reader#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers headcanons#tokyo revengers angst
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how does dick grayson act when hes jealous 😋😋
a/n: thank you for sending this in anon!! I can't tell you how much I love you for it. this was really fun !!!! <3333
Dick Grayson doesn't get jealous. Or so you think. It's just that-he''s Dick Grayson. What would he have to be jealous about? He's got a great smile, a flirty personality, a nice ass, people flock to him with the bat of his eyelashes.
So sitting across your date for the night, you didn't expect to see Dick Grayson just a few feet in front of you at the bar. He didn't exactly make himself discreet either. He's turned right to you, eyeing you up.
You look back to your date.
"Do you think this date is going well?" you ask straight up.
They look at you, a bit flabbergasted at the brutal honesty of your question.
"I mean, I would say it's going to my liking. Wha-how is it going for you?" they ask.
You smile and shrug, "It's going well. It was."
"Was?" they ask.
Dick Grayson grabs his drink and downs it. Its chilling to see. Chilling and also hot. You didn't think he was the type. The knock 'em back because I'm Jealous type. The jealous type.
"Yeah, because I've got a feeling that we won't be seeing each other again." you answer.
"Wait is this some new tactic to let me down? If so you can just tell me. I can take it." they reply.
You shake your head, "Its not a tactic, but there's this guy I'm also seeing. He just walked in."
"Ah, so I lost out." your date says.
You look at them. If you hadn't met Dick Grayson this date would be going exceptionally well. You'd be laughing, having fun, not worrying about some other guy who has your attention.
You originally didn't think about this date as a date.
It wasn't until you woke up last weekend and got a text from an unknown number. One of your friends had sent you your date's number and picture thinking you would be interesting.
Not knowing that you were wrapped up in the sheets with Dick. Who, also happened to the message. And that fueled another round with him that was exciting and passionate. All for him to say that you should go on that date, ya know since the two of you weren't official.
His words.
You weren't necessarily trying to make him regret his words. You were trying to bend yourself to them actually. Because he was right, you aren't official.
But Dick Grayson sitting at the bar a few feet from your date? That wasn't casual.
"But be honest, did I really charm you enough for a date or was there another reason?" you ask them.
They sit back in their chair with a sad smile on their face.
"You caught me. Yeah. This would be my first date after a long relationship." they answer.
"You could always say it was good. Because it was. I'm just not..." you trail off.
"not available." they finish off the sentence for you.
"Yeah." you answer simply.
"That's okay. I can pay for the bill and we can just end it here." they say.
They hail down the waiter and ask for the bill. But somehow, your bill has been paid. Your eyes dart back to Dick at the bar. He raises his glass towards you.
"Wow, I guess this is some sort of lucky / unlucky date." they joke.
You laugh at that. And then your date gets up from their seat, and bids you goodbye. You say the same and sit back in your chair. Waiting for the inevitable.
You reach into your bag for your lipgloss. As you grab it and take it out, you don't pay attention to the sound of the chair in front of you moving. You reapply your lipgloss.
"Fun date?" a voice asks.
You look across from you. Dick.
"yeah. you having a nice night?" you ask him.
Dick grins and takes a swig of his drink. It's almost down to the bottom. You can't tell if he got another one before he left the bar or not.
"Not really no. I pushed the one person that makes me happy into something because I got scared." he admits.
"Scared of what?" you ask.
"Scared of happiness. I realized how happy you made me and I didn't want to ruin it, but I ruined it anyways. I'm so so sorry for doing that to you." he explains.
You nod your head.
"So I'm so irresistibly charming and I make you so happy that you crashed my date, paid the bill, and apologized for the whole thing?" you least lightly.
Dick shakes his head, "I shouldn't get your forgiveness. I mean I deserve to be put on time-out or put in a corner."
"You're a grown man, Dick. I'm not about to do that to you. I just want you to know what you want." you say.
"I want you." he says effortlessly.
You smile, "Good. Because I'm not seeing anyone else."
"I haven't see anyone else since we first kissed." Dick admits.
#dc x reader#dc imagine#dc blurbs#Dick Grayson x reader#Dick Grayson imagine#Dick Grayson blurb#<3333
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like i'm sorry but show me a time sam spends genuine quality time with jack? cas beyond like connect four? dean takes him fishing. teaching him how to drive. gives him the perfect day when everyone else decided against jack's own wishes that he should stay put. spends countless hours together off camera showing him movies and giving him his pop culture education. half the time cas is off on some mission, but dean is there. and jack looks up to him and values his honesty. they both have the same views on self-sacrifice. both decide to turn themselves into bombs for the greater good. they get each other. and i will just never understand how people watch this show without seeing how good of a bond dean and jack actually have. people get so blinded by their rocky start, which jack is actually more hurt by how sam initially treats him--seeing him as a tool to be used to get mary back--than dean's frostiness. and then the soulless stuff getting so misinterpreted and blown out of proportion. jack WAS a threat! to the world! and dean was not the only one who agreed he need to be stopped / contained until they could figure out how to save jack / get his soul back. the whole POINT of "jack in the box" is that they don't want to kill him, they want to be able to save him, but he's going around killing innocent people and he's the most powerful being in the universe after chuck and amara. he IS the supernatural threat to the world at that moment and needs to be contained. and sam was on-board with containment. cas even suggested the cage. rowena was afraid of soulless jack. sam asked rowena to figure out how to stop / kill him. dean didn't get on board with the idea to "kill" jack until chuck started putting that in their heads, which was exactly what chuck wanted, it was his plan, his storyline. he was manipulating the outcome. but then dean crucially thwarts his plan and refuses to go through with it. but people refuse to remember that, and instead just focus on the fact that dean picked up the gun in the first place. disregarding the context that brought him there. also a few bad moments don't negate all the good either. especially when you consider the context, literal god manipulating the situation, god bringing these characters to their breaking point again and again. that context does matter and influences the actions characters make.
#dean and jack#i love their dynamic. it's so much more interesting and nuanced than so many ppl make it out to be#vic.txt
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main 3 + butters! seeing reader in lingerie for the first time!!
first time doing headcanons and a scenario 😋 also i apologize in advance if this is bad, i've written nsfw only ONCE before and hated it so much that i never finished it BAHAHA
cws: nsfw, but nothing too explicit Aged up characters! (College au, early 20s)
♡ STAN MARSH
Thinks he died and went to heaven for a second in all honesty. Like he could not believe you standing in front of him wearing lingerie.
He saw you with it on and had to process what he was seeing, definitely stuttering as he finds the words to say
He's rocking with it though, 100%. Has always had a small thing for lingerie but didn't exactly know how to bring it up so he just never said anything lol
Stan seems to me as a more of a red satin kind of guy, simple sets work for him
Doesn't want to tear it or anything, when taking it off of you he's rather careful, more so into savoring the moment of seeing you in lingerie (and eventually you out of it).
Whether its false bravado or not, he gets over his initial shock rather quickly
"You okay? Babe?" Stan calls out, sitting on the side of your bed tapping his fingers against the frame.
"Yeah sorry, coming out now," You respond, walking out of the bathroom, covered in a simple red satin lingerie set, "you like?"
"Holy shi-, wow you look good. Damn." Stan stutters out, taking you and your outfit in, "you, uh, you didn't have to do this you know. I'm- I'm, not saying you look bad, holy shit you look so good-"
"I know I didn't have to," You giggle, a blush covering your face, walking closer to him before sitting on his lap, "but I wanted this to be special, you know for our first time. I wanted to look good for you."
Stan licks his lips, reaching to kiss and bite at your neck as his hands grip your sides before they slowly make a descent down to your hips. "Well, you always look good, doesn't matter what you got on." His fingers tug at the waistband of the underwear, "but fuck, this is so hot."
♡ KYLE BROFLOVSKI
Doesn't know what to do and he doesn't know what to say either
Definitely whines/quietly whimpers at seeing you in lingerie though
He'd be a fan of dark green lace or floral sets
Another one to be careful with taking it off of you, but its because he's so nervous
Finds the concept of lingerie initially dorky until he sees you in it and now he understands the appeal.
He is so cute bro, he has the biggest blush covering his face and he stutters and he can't make eye contact (kicking my feet and giggling as I write this about him rn), definitely repeats words and phrases as his brain is trying to think of what to say next
Kyle covers his mouth, embarrassed at the whimper that leaves him as you lift up your shirt, revealing the dark green lingerie underneath. You feel him getting even harder underneath you and you slowly roll your hips against his. Kyle quickly grabs onto your hips hard and shakily moans, hands gripping you firmly.
"Baby, baby, baby.." Kyle whines out as he stares at how well the dark green compliments your body. "Mhmm," you hum, "what is it?"
"You look so good, so good.." He looks so dazed as his eyes constantly dart over your body. Kyle is absolutely smitten with the way the lingerie sits on you.
"You like it huh?" You whisper as your bring your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. He nervously swallows and turns his head to press a kiss into your hand, before gently biting a finger while looking up at you.
Turning his head back to face you, he whimpers out a "god yes," as his hips buck up up into you, drawing a small moan out of you, "so so much."
♡ KENNY MCCORMICK
There is one singular phrase going through his head when he sees what you got on and it's "fuck me"
He's so unbelievably hard in like 2 seconds that it's alarming
He's a fan of sheer brighter colors and garters, but really any lingerie set looks good and he's really fine with anything you're putting on.
He'll rip the fabric off of you, he doesn't really care if you make a noise of complaint, he's too invested in getting him in you and making you feel good.
He'll make it up to you later by managing to get you another set later. (That he rips off you anyhow, it's a never ending cycle)
Would love to receive pictures of you in various lingerie sets. So after this whole thing of surprising him by wearing it for the first time, he'll want pictures of you from now on.
"Fuck y/n," Kenny groans, bucking himself against you, "you look so pretty. My pretty baby." His hands wander over your body, feeling the thin material and your skin causing him to become impatient.
Kenny leans forward to suck at your neck, causing you to let out small moans. "I need, need, this off of you. Now." Before you're able to say anything, he tugs at the top half a bit too roughly, ripping the thin material into halves.
"Kenny!" You exclaim, shock and annoyance evident in your tone.
Kenny stops briefly and he lets out a small laugh before kissing you, "I'm sorry hun, can't wait. Need you now. Gotta make you feel good."
You huff, "This was a bit pricey, Ken. How are you gonna make this one up?"
He snorts, before flipping you over and situating you so his face is pressed between your thighs, "Oh I'll make it up to you baby, and then some, promise."
♡ BUTTERS STOTCH
Another blushy and nervous wreck to see you in lingerie.
I feel he'd LOVE white sets, design doesn't matter, but there's something about wearing white in his eyes that just.. gets him going yk?
He definitely has a battle with himself on where to place his hands. Do you want them on your waist, hips, do you want to hold hands? What if he rips the fabric?
Stutters out compliments. Compliments you the whole time actually, his eyes nervously watch your every movement
He loves if you brush your body still clad with the lingerie against his bare skin. The feeling of technical skin contact but thin material between you two has got him in a chokehold for some reason
Calls you his angel because of the white lingerie and how beautiful/ethereal you look to him right now
Butters believes this is how he dies, underneath you, clad in a sheer white lingerie set. You slowly drag your fingers against his skin and he finds himself without a single complaint as to how he would be dying. He finds himself without many thoughts actually and the ones he does have are just about you.
"Oh god angel," Butters shudders, his brain turning into mush at the feeling of your body against his. His hands hovering just above your thighs, as he nervously thumbs at the material draped over them.
You giggle at his behavior, "you can touch me, you know?"
"O-oh, I know honey, but, you.. you just look so gosh darn gorgeous and..." he trails off, adams apple bobbing as your drag your hands along his waist. "..and what, Butters..?" You whisper against his ear.
His hands grip your thighs and bites his lip. "I want you.. please honey, my angel." He shifts underneath you, hoping you catch the hint and quit teasing him.
#stan marsh#kyle broflovski#kenny mccormick#butters stotch#south park x reader#stan marsh x reader#stan marsh headcanons#kyle broflovski x reader#kyle broflovski headcanons#kenny mccormick x reader#kenny mccormick headcanons#butters stotch x reader#butters stotch headcanons
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Joey B Imagines: Honeymoon*
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summary: you had given birth to your beautiful baby girl just under a year before you and joe got married. to make the honeymoon something to look even more forward to, you decided to wait till then to have sex for the first time since giving birth.
warnings: smut
pairing: joe burrow x reader
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(y/n’s pov)
joe was getting antsy, that's for sure.
it was honeymoon night and he was excited for what was about to happen next.
he was standing behind me, holding our leftovers in his hands as i tried to use the key to open.
i felt him shift behind me. he was looking over my shoulder. im guessing trying to figure out what was taking so long.
"here give me the key." - joe
"no. it's okay, i got it." - you
"give me the key." - joes voice grew stern. he wasn't offering, he was demanding
he handed me the leftovers from the restaurant we had just left as i gave him the key.
joe got the door open and quickly walked in, he moved out of the way so i could follow him and then he closed and locked the door behind me.
i walked over to the fridge and put the food up, knowing joe was watching me.
"baby.. can we go to bed?" - joe
"yeah lemme shower first." - you looked at him innocently, playing dumb
"that's not what i- you know what never mind. i'll be waiting for you in here, okay?" - joe
"okay joey." - you
i left joe alone and walked into the master suite, in all honesty i wasn't about to shower. i was gonna use this time to get ready for what usually leads to a shower.
i turned the water on to be safe, i didn't want him to hear me opening my suitcase up.
unzipping my bag, i dug to the bottom and grabbed the lace black lingerie that had been hiding.
slipping it on, i felt so confident in it but i definitely still had my doubts.
after that i re-curled some pieces of my hair that had fallen.
for the next 10 minutes i just sat in the bathroom scrolling through my phone, not exactly stalling but also trying to kill some time.
i wanted to make sure sam was asleep so i called my best friend, alexa.
"are you and joe not fucking right now?" - alexa
"oh my god, no. i'm in the bathroom alone." - you
"okay.. what's up?" - alexa
"i just wanted to talk, we really haven’t talked since the wedding yesterday." - you
“uhm.. okay?” - alexa
"so like how've you been?" - you
"y/n.. what are you stalling for?" - alexa
"i'm not stalling!" - you
"you just got very defensive, why are you hiding in the bathroom?" - alexa
"okay so.. im literally in the bathroom wearing lingerie stalling because i'm scared" - you
"of what?!" - alexa
"what if joe doesn't like how i look.. my body has changed a lot after having the baby and i'm scared he's not gonna find me attractive anymore." - you
"y/n burrow. you're speaking nonsense." - alexa
"i- i'm just scared" - you
"you really think joe isn't gonna like how you look? you know he's obsessed with you, i'm sure he's already tried to make moves on you today. no way he'd pass up the chance of joining the mile high club with you on your way there." - alexa
"okay yeah he has been making moves, but i'm still worried!" - you
"don't overthink it. are you just going to walk up to him in it?" - alexa
"uh no, i was thinking about putting something over it. i brought one of his jerseys, but i could also use one of the robes here" - you
"no use the jersey, i'm gonna go now. good look, babe!" - alexa
"thanks.." - you
she hung up and i let out a loud sigh.
i turned the water off and quietly slipped into the bedroom, making my way over to my suitcase and unzipping it.
grabbing the jersey i ran my hand over the letters on the back. it was something about seeing my new last name on the back.
i put it on and smoothed it out as i took a deep breath and started down the hallway.
when i got to the end of the hallway i saw joe sitting on the couch shirtless. the tv was on but he wasn't watching it, when i looked over his shoulder i saw that he was looking at the wedding pictures that we had just received.
i put my hands over his eyes, he jumped slightly but he quickly realized it was just me.
"guess who?" - you
"uhhh... i have no idea. is that you coach??" - joe
i laughed slightly before taking my hands off and walking in front of him.
"holy shit." - joes eyes scanned your body
he dropped his phone next to him, making it known that his full attention was on me.
"you like what ya see?" - you did a slow spin
after i did my spin and i was facing him again, seeing the look in his eyes made my stomach drop.
"fuck yeah." - joe
i moved forward and straddled him.
wrapping my arms around his neck as his arms snaked around my waist, i let my lips fall to his.
"you're all mine." - joe mumbled into the kiss
his hands migrated to my hips as he started moving me back and forth, grinding me against him.
still grinding against him, his lips left mine as his kisses wandered down to my neck, there were definitely going to be visible marks.
as he was sucking on my neck i let out a moan and grabbed onto his hair causing him to grip my hips.
"no matter how good you look in my jersey, i need to get it off of ya." - joe
he bunched up some of the fabric and looked up at me, wanting me to either tell him to continue or to stop.
"please joe." - you
"please what baby?" - joe grinned dirtily
"take it off me." - you gripped his biceps
joe pulled the jersey over my head and threw it to the side. when he saw the lingerie i had hidden underneath his eyes darkened to a shade id never seen before.
"fucking hell, you're so beautiful." - joe groaned
"i- i was scared you wouldn't like it." - you
joe’s whole body tensed up and it felt like the whole world stopped, please tell me i didn't just ruin this moment.
"what?" - joe
"i don't know, i'm sorry for saying anything.. it's just that my body has changed since having the baby and i was worried you wouldn't be attracted to how i looked in the lingerie." - you
"baby.. are you being for real? i mean this in the most serious way possible but you know you turn me into a horny teenager." - joe
i laughed slightly before i started rubbing his arms.
"again i'm sorry for even saying anything, i was just a little self conscious." - you
"you're safe with me babe... do you want me to keep going?" - joe
"oh yes of course... i need you." - you
"that's it, can you get up for a sec" - joe
i nodded and stood up from sitting on him. he too stood up and pulled his shorts down, his impressive length flinging free.
"no boxers?" - you grinned
"it's our honeymoon, thought i'd have them off more often then on so what's the point of wearing ‘em." - joe smirked
"you're so hot." - you stared at him open mouthed
"i know, gorgeous c’mere." - joe
he sat down on the couch and grabbed the underside of my thighs, pulling me to him.
joe gently put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me down onto the floor.
once on my knees, he didn't even have to tell me what to do. this position was all too familiar.
joe let his eyes close as he felt my hand wrap around him, his head falling back as he let out a groan when the movements increased.
when my lips wrapped around his tip he dropped one of his hands from the couch and let it find my hair, he wrapped my hair around his hand controlling the depth and pace.
"i don't think you understand.. how fucking good this feels." - joe moaned
i used my hand to continue the movements on his base.
endless groans, moans, and curses flew out of his mouth. thank god there is no one else staying anywhere close to us.
i noticed his breathing quicken as his hands started guiding me with more strength.
"your mouth y/n, holy shit!" - joe moaned
he came not much longer after that. he let go of my hair and leaned forward, pulling me into a kiss.
"get up here with me. it's your turn" - joe breathed out
i suddenly became very nervous, sure i was excited to be brought pleasure and i was glad it was from joe... but i was just so nervous.
when he noticed i hadn't moved from my position below him joe opened his eyes and leaned up.
"you okay? you're safe with me baby." - joe
"i- i know, and uh i'm okay." - you
"are you just a little nervous?" - joe
i nodded and he reached out for my hand, lifting me up to stand.
"that's okay, it's the first time since you gave birth. you know i won't hurt ya, and if i do something that makes you uncomfortable tell me to stop immediately okay?" - joe
"okay.. thank you." - you
"you don't have to thank me." - joe
i stood up from my kneeling position and sat down next to him.
"i love you." - you kissed him
"love you too babe, now what am i gonna do with you?" - joe smirked
joe turned me to where i was laying flat on my back against the couch.
he gently parted my legs and started placing kisses on the inside of my thighs.
"don't tease, burrow" - you
"be patient, burrow" - joe looked up at me with a grin
good lord... this man.
joe moved the fabric aside as he connected his lips to my core, i was seeing stars.
"fuck joe!" - you moaned
i could literally feel him smile against me.
his mouth was literal magic, and it wasn't long till i was practically screaming his name.
the smug look on his face was evident.
he knew the effect he had on me and it turned him on extremely.
looking down and seeing his already hard again and throbbing dick more than ready to be inside of me was exciting.
"i think you're more than ready for me." - joe
"joey." - you whined
"yeah baby? what is it?" - joe
i moaned in response, unable to form words as i watched him slowly pump himself.
"i need your dick in me, please joe." - you
"i forgot how needy you are." - joe
"shut up and fuck me." - you
"don't gotta tell me twice." - joe
he got on top of me, his hands on either side of my head holding himself up.
i wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down to me, our lips engaging in a filthy kiss as he entered me.
"oh my god- fuck." - joe
we were too busy moaning into each others mouths to kiss.
his thrusts were fast and hard, but i needed more.
"joey." - you moan
"yeah?" - joe breathed out
"harder." - you
"your wish is my command, mama." - joe
his hips met mine with heavy hard thrusts.
i was slowly moving farther up on the couch because of him literally pounding into me.
"damn it!" - joe groaned
with joe on top i could see his facial expression's, those that only showed how good he was feeling.
multiple thrusts later i could feel that unmistakable feeling in my stomach.
"joey, im close." - you gripped his biceps
he acted fast, his already ferocious pace speeding up as i moaned louder and louder.
"that's it baby, just let go." - joe groaned
that and a few more thrusts had me coming apart underneath him.
but the thing is, joe hadn't finished yet.
"babe." - your breathy voice rang out
"yeah?" - joe
"turn us." - you
"baby, you don't have too-" - joe
"i said turn us." - you
joe grabbed me and turned us around with ease, his back was now against the couch and i was on top.
in all honesty i didn't have the energy to ride him, but i wasn't about to let him walk away from this without finishing.
slowly, i started moving on his length. taking every glorious inch of him and then pulling off.
joes neck was rolling in every which way as his nose and eyes were scrunched.
"fuck, baby." - joe moaned
he had his hands on my hips to help guide me at the speed he wanted.
"i'm about to cum, y/n." - joe
i grabbed the back of neck and pulled him up to me, his lips attacking mine.
joe let out a guttural sound into the kiss as i felt him let go inside of me.
i got off of him and dropped next to him onto the couch. joe immediately pulled me to him and rubbed my naked back.
"that was amazing.." - joe
"mhm." - you mumbled against his chest
"i know you already showered, but we should go wash up." - joe
"i never showered." - you giggled as you traced the ridges in his abs
"okay well now you can come take a bath with me. i saw that huge tub in there so i know this is about to be relaxing.” - joe
he stood up and grabbed my hand, pulling me up.
i stumbled a bit, my legs were still wobbly from what we had just done but joe guided me to the bathroom.
he lowered in first and then i did, my back against his chest as i sat between his legs.
"i love you so much baby, i'm so happy you're my wife." - joe rubbed your shoulders
"i love you too, hubby." - you
we both giggled at the nickname before he kissed my forehead.
i've never felt so loved.
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authors note: why are imagines so much more fun to write than stories?
hope you enjoyed it!! ❤️❤️
#joe burrow#bengals#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow x reader#joey b#cincinnati bengals#joe burrow fan fic#joe burrow smut
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Before the Midnight bell (part1)- Ronin x G.N Reader (Birthday special)
The world may never understand his love—may never see the beauty in the brokenness he had created—
Happy Birthday, Ronin!
I don’t know where to even begin, but here it goes.
I’ve never met anyone quite like you., and that’s what makes you so special. You’ve made me see the world in ways I didn’t think were possible—through the chaos, the darkness, and the little moments of strange beauty. You make everything feel… more intense. More alive.
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough for just being you—for your twisted way of caring, your brutal honesty, and the way you make me feel like the world is ours to twist and shape. You’ve always been my protector, even when it doesn’t look like it. And for that, I’ll always be grateful.
Today’s your day, and I want it to be as crazy and unforgettable as you are. Here’s to more madness, more chaos, and more love (in our own twisted way).
I’m lucky to share this ride with you, Ronin. I’ll always be here—through every bloody, beautiful moment.
Happy Birthday.
With all my weird little love, Y/N..
Hey, I hope this is real..?
Ronin x G.N Reader (It's a fallen angel reader from my fanfic for Ronin! I didn't finish it but Hehe Hehe!)
Genre: Fluff
Word count: 15k!
TW: Blood etc
How long!?
Ronin’s birthday was coming up, and for the first time, you felt both excitement and a hint of nervousness bubbling inside you. It wasn’t just any birthday this time—it was his first as your boyfriend. Your actual boyfriend. No manipulative games or quasi-relationship joke hiding behind twisted titles. This time, it was real.
The thought made your cheeks flush with warmth as you absentmindedly plucked at your sweater sleeve. What could you even do for him? Ronin wasn’t exactly the type to go all soft for traditional romantic gestures, but at the same time, he deserved something thoughtful. Something special.
When you couldn’t figure it out yourself, you turned to Angel for help.
The phone call had started simple—just asking her what kinds of things Ronin liked—but within minutes, it spiraled into giggles and brainstorming.
“Well,” Angel began, her voice teasing through the speaker. “For one, apple crumble ice cream. He’s obsessed. I swear, it’s like his one soft spot.”
You tilted your head, the corner of your lip tugging upward. “Ice cream?”
“Yes, and it has to be apple crumble. No substitutes.” She laughed lightly. “Also, anything horror-related. "You could probably scare him with some creepy prank and he’d still be grinning like an idiot. Oh! And vinyl records. He used to collect them like crazy. We’d spend hours in those little secondhand record stores."
“Wait, you guys used to date, huh?” you asked, more curious than anything else.
“Uh-huh.” Angel didn’t even try to sugarcoat it, her tone light and nonchalant. “But don’t worry, it’s ancient history. Besides, you’re better for him than I ever was.”
You blinked, momentarily stunned. “...Really?”
“Absolutely,” she said, warmth lacing her words. “Ronin’s a hard one to figure out, you know? But you... you don’t try to fix him. You’re just there. Healing him in your own way, piece by piece.”
The words settled in your chest, bringing a small, shy smile to your lips. You didn’t know about healing, but you did care about him—enough that jealousy didn’t even cross your mind when it came to his past. It was part of who he was, just like his sharp smirks and terrible habit of leaving his dirty boots on your couch.
“Well,” you said after a beat, grinning despite yourself. “I still need to figure out how to surprise him.”
Angel hummed thoughtfully before chiming in, “Okay, hear me out. What if you made the apple crumble ice cream? It’d mean way more than just buying it.”
Your eyes widened. “You think I could do that?”
“Absolutely. It’s easy! I’ll even send you the recipe. Trust me, he’ll love it.”
The idea lodged itself in your head, and before long, the two of you were laughing together, imagining Ronin’s surprise. It felt strange and wonderful—planning something sweet and thoughtful instead of just surviving the chaos of your usual lives.
“I can’t believe how cute you two have gotten,” Angel teased before the call ended. “You’re like this innocent little ray of sunshine, even after, y’know... the whole fallen angel thing.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, cheeks burning as you said goodbye and ended the call.
With the recipe saved on your phone and your determination set, you leaned back on the couch, mind swirling with ideas. This birthday was going to be perfect.
You were so lost in thought, though, that you didn’t notice the faint sound of footsteps creeping closer.
Suddenly, a voice whispered in your ear, low and playful. “Peekaboo.”
You yelped, jumping nearly a foot in the air, arms flailing as you landed unceremoniously on your butt.
Ronin doubled over with laughter, his crowbar leaning against the wall as he clutched his stomach. “Oh, my god, the way you jumped—” He barely got the words out between fits of cackling.
“Ronin!” you whined, pouting as you rubbed your sore tailbone. “That’s not funny!”
“It’s hilarious,” he countered, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You did the full Mickey Mouse jump and everything. You should’ve seen your face.”
You crossed your arms, trying to glare at him, but the laughter bubbling beneath his grin was contagious. Before you knew it, you were laughing too, the sound light and unguarded.
Ronin plopped down beside you on the floor, still smirking. “So, what were you sitting here looking so serious about? You looked like you were trying to solve a math problem or something.”
Your heart skipped a beat, the recipe still glowing on your phone screen. Panicking, you quickly locked the screen and tucked the phone behind you. “N-nothing!” you stammered. “Just... thinking!”
He raised a brow, clearly skeptical but not pushing it. “Mm-hmm. Sure.”
The two of you sat there for a moment, the quiet filling the space between his teasing and your flustered silence. His presence was warm beside you, grounding in a way that made your racing thoughts slow just a little.
“You’re weird, y’know that?” he said suddenly, his tone lighter.
“Why?” you asked, tilting your head.
“Most people would’ve run for the hills by now. But you? You’re still here. Still all...” He gestured vaguely at you, his lips quirking into an almost affectionate smirk. “...you.”
Your cheeks burned, and you glanced away, hugging your knees to your chest. “Well... I guess I just like being around you.”
He didn’t respond right away, and when you glanced back, you caught a flicker of something soft in his expression before he covered it up with his usual bravado.
“Whatever, angel,” he muttered, ruffling your hair as he stood up. “Don’t go breaking anything while I’m gone.”
You huffed, smoothing your hair back down as he sauntered off, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.
This birthday was going to be perfect. He might tease you for being so earnest, but you knew deep down he’d appreciate it. Because underneath all the posturing, Ronin cared—maybe even more than he let on.
And you? You cared too. Enough to try, to surprise him, to make this the best birthday he’d ever had.
Ronin extended his hand to you, still grinning from ear to ear, his laughter tapering off into soft chuckles. You took his hand, and he effortlessly pulled you to your feet, the smirk on his face never faltering.
“You good?” he asked, tilting his head, clearly still amused by your earlier reaction.
“I’m fine,” you muttered, brushing yourself off and trying to recover what little dignity you had left. “And for the record, you’re terrible for scaring me like that.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m the worst,” he teased, his voice dripping with faux arrogance. “But admit it—you’d miss me if I wasn’t.”
You rolled your eyes, though your smile betrayed you. “Anyway,” you said, trying to steer the conversation, “I actually... prepared something for you.”
“Oh?” His eyebrow quirked, curiosity flickering in his gaze. “Prepared something? What, like food?”
“Yes, like food.” You placed your hands on your hips, trying to act exasperated. “I thought maybe you’d like a decent meal for once, instead of... I don’t know, whatever you scrape together while you’re out doing... whatever it is you do.”
His grin widened, and he stepped closer, leaning in just enough to make your pulse quicken. “You cooked for me?”
You nodded, cheeks warming as you looked away. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s not like I do this every day.”
“Well, color me impressed,” he said, leaning back with a lazy smirk. “Guess I’ll have to see if it’s edible first.”
“Ronin!” you huffed, playfully smacking his arm.
He laughed, stepping aside and gesturing toward the kitchen. “Lead the way, chef.”
The two of you moved to the kitchen, where you’d already plated the food you made. Ronin eyed the spread, his expression unreadable as he took it all in.
“Looks good,” he admitted, surprising you. But as he leaned forward to inspect it, he added, “Though I didn’t get any blood on my mouth today, so I’m not sure if it’ll hit the spot.”
You froze for a second, his casual tone catching you off guard. “Uh... you mean...”
“Killing,” he said nonchalantly, grabbing a fork and poking at the food. “Been doing a lot of it lately. Guess you noticed, huh?”
You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. “Well... yeah. I mean, you’ve been, uh, busy. Is there... a reason for it?”
Ronin’s hand paused, his fork hovering just above his plate. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, his usual playful demeanor seemed to dim.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said finally, his tone sharp enough to make you flinch.
“Okay,” you said softly, nodding like the obedient little toy he seemed to think you were.
His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, and then he sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “You’re cute when you do that, y’know. All wide-eyed and nodding like that. Like you’re afraid to push me too far.”
“I just...” You trailed off, unsure how to respond.
He smirked again, leaning forward to ruffle your hair. “Relax, angel. I’m not gonna bite—unless you ask me to.”
Your cheeks flushed, and you quickly changed the subject. “You must be tired. Why don’t we do something fun instead? Take your mind off... whatever it is.”
Ronin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Fun, huh? What did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Something. Anything. Just... not work. You deserve a break.”
He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Alright, how about this—are you free tomorrow?”
You blinked, surprised by the question. “Uh, yeah. Why?”
“Good,” he said, his smirk growing. “Then clear your schedule. I’ve got plans for us
After dinner, the night began to wind down. You stretched your arms over your head, stifling a yawn as you cleared the plates and tucked them into the sink for tomorrow’s version of you to handle. Ronin was already on his way to the bedroom, casually stripping off his hoodie as he went. You didn’t miss the way his muscles moved under the dim light, but you quickly turned away, trying not to overthink it.
As you tidied up a few last-minute things, the thought of sleep became more and more appealing. But not before you indulged in one of your newfound comforts: stealing Ronin’s clothes.
You grabbed one of his oversized hoodies from the back of a chair and slipped into it, the fabric smelling faintly of motor oil, leather, and something distinctly him. It hung loosely on your frame, swallowing you in its warmth. Pairing it with a pair of shorts, you shuffled toward the bedroom, relishing the small joys that came with being close to him.
When you entered, Ronin was already sprawled on the bed, scrolling lazily through his phone. His legs were crossed, and he looked like the epitome of someone who didn’t have a care in the world. You stood in the doorway for a moment, watching him, before a familiar urge bubbled up.
“Alright,” you said, placing your hands on your hips. “Bedtime.”
Ronin raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You sound like my mom. What’s next, tucking me in?”
You grinned, already making your way to his side of the bed. “Exactly that.”
He groaned, exaggerated and dramatic, but didn’t stop you as you grabbed the blankets and started fussing over him.
“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, though there was no real heat behind his words.
“And yet, you’re letting me do this,” you teased, tucking the blanket snugly around him like he was some kind of overgrown child.
He rolled his eyes but stayed still, indulging you with a resigned sigh. “Happy now?”
“Very,” you replied, stepping back to admire your handiwork.
You leaned down and pressed a light kiss to his forehead. “Good night, Ronin.”
Turning toward the couch on the far side of the room, you started to make your way over, already mentally preparing for the uneven cushions.
But before you could settle in, you felt a tug on your wrist. You looked down to see Ronin’s hand gripping yours, his dark eyes fixed on you.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.
“Going to sleep?” you replied, a little confused by the question.
“On the couch?” He tugged again, gently this time. “You’re my partner now. Why are you still sleeping over there?”
Your breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t expected him to address it so directly. “I... I didn’t think you’d mind,” you said softly. “I just—”
“You just what?” His tone wasn’t accusatory, but there was a weight to it, an insistence that you answer honestly.
You hesitated, your free hand fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. “I thought... maybe you’d prefer it that way. Because of... you know.”
Ronin’s expression darkened slightly, but his grip on your wrist didn’t falter. “Because of Ther?” he asked bluntly, cutting through your hesitation.
You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to make you feel like I was... trying to replace them. I know I can’t. And I wouldn’t want to. I just... I thought maybe it’d be easier for you if I kept some distance.”
He let out a long breath, his thumb brushing against the inside of your wrist. “What do you think of me?”
“What?”
“I’m asking what you think,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re the one who’s scared I’m hung up on someone else. Do you think I’m the type to do that to you?”
“No,” you said quickly. “I don’t think you’d ever see Ther in someone else. You’re... you’re not like that. You care too much, even if you don’t like showing it.”
He smirked faintly at that, but the seriousness in his eyes didn’t fade.
“I just...” You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I know you loved them. And I know I’m not them. But that’s okay. I don’t need to be. I’m just happy I get to be part of your life, even if it’s not the same.”
For a moment, Ronin didn’t say anything. His eyes searched yours, his usual post-ironic mask slipping just enough for you to catch a glimpse of something raw underneath.
Then, slowly, a grin broke across his face, though it was softer than usual. “You’re something else,” he said, shaking his head.
You smiled back at him, feeling a little lighter. “So... we’re okay?”
“More than okay,” he said. “But if you think I’m letting you sleep on that couch again, you’ve got another thing coming.”
Before you could protest, he tugged on your wrist, pulling you toward the bed. You stumbled slightly, but he caught you, his hands firm yet gentle as they guided you onto the mattress.
“Ronin—”
“Nope,” he said, cutting you off. “No arguments. You’re staying here.”
You looked at him, your heart thudding in your chest. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious. “Unless you’ve got a problem with it.”
You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “No problem.”
“Good.” He shifted to make room for you, pulling the blankets over the both of you. “Now get some sleep, angel.
The quiet settled in as you nestled closer against Ronin’s chest, his steady heartbeat a soothing rhythm that lulled you into a sense of security. For all his sharp edges, Ronin had a warmth to him, one that you craved more than you liked to admit. His arm draped loosely around your waist, his hand resting on your hip, and you could feel the slight tension in his hold, like he wasn’t entirely sure how much was too much.
You tilted your head slightly to look up at him, your fingers absentmindedly toying with the hem of his hoodie. “Ronin?”
“Hm?” His voice was muffled, his eyes half-lidded, but you could tell he was still awake.
“Can I ask you something?”
He groaned softly, cracking one eye open. “You’re not about to get all serious on me right before bed, are you?”
“No,” you said quickly, your voice soft. “It’s just... something I’ve been thinking about.”
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t push you away. “Alright, spit it out.”
You hesitated, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “You’re really... um, touchy, sometimes. Like, not in a bad way! I mean, I like it.” You tripped over your words, your face heating up as you tried to explain. “I just... you seem like you need it. A lot.”
Ronin let out a low, dramatic groan, throwing his head back against the pillow. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. You’re not seriously analyzing my cuddle habits, are you?”
You bit your lip, feeling a little embarrassed but also determined to ask. “I’m not analyzing! I’m just curious. Is it... a thing for you? Being touchy, I mean.”
His eyes flicked back to you, and for a moment, you thought he might brush it off with one of his usual sarcastic comments. But instead, he sighed, his hand running through his plum-colored hair.
“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. “Guess you could say I’m a bit touch-starved. Always have been.”
You blinked up at him, tilting your head. “Touch-starved?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know what it means,” he said, smirking slightly. “I’m not gonna spell it out for you.”
You shook your head quickly. “No, no, I know what it means! I just... I didn’t think you’d say it like that. You’re so... you.”
He snorted, his fingers tapping lightly against your hip. “Yeah, well, even I’ve got my shit, alright? Not exactly a lot of hugs going around in my past. So, sue me if I’m a little touchy right now."
He stiffened for a moment, then narrowed his eyes at you. “Don’t start with me.”
“What?” you said, feigning innocence. “I’m just pointing out the obvious.”
“You’re not teasing,” he said flatly. “You think you’re teasing, but you’re not.”
You pouted, crossing your arms over your chest. “I totally am!”
He let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. “Kid, you don’t have a teasing bone in your body. It’s cute, though. Like watching a puppy try to bark for the first time.”
You frowned, trying to think of something witty to say back, but your mind drew a blank. Instead, you settled for sticking your tongue out at him, which only made him laugh harder.
“See? Case in point,” he said, his smirk widening.
You huffed, turning away from him, but his arm tightened around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.
“Hey,” he said softly, his voice losing some of its usual sarcasm. “I’m not complaining. You being... you? That’s what makes it good. So don’t go trying to change it, alright?”
You turned back to him, your cheeks warm as you nodded. “Okay.”
“Good,” he said, resting his chin on top of your head. “Now go to sleep before you make me say more sappy shit.”
You smiled, nuzzling closer to him. “Good night, Ronin.”
“Night, angel.”
Ronin stretched out on the bed, his body heavy with the kind of groggy satisfaction that came from sleeping far longer than he usually allowed himself. He blinked a few times, his gaze shifting to the empty space beside him. You were gone.
His eyebrows furrowed for a moment, and he rubbed at his face. Fresh air, maybe? he thought, letting his arm flop onto the bed. He wasn’t the clingy type, a mantra he didn’t quite believe but stubbornly repeated anyway. Touch-starved, not needy EVEN NOT THAT!, he muttered internally, rolling out of bed.
Still, the quiet absence in the room felt louder than it should have. As he threw on his hoodie and padded down the hall, he shook his head.
Shut it, Ronin
His own voice in his mind was sharp, scolding. They’re not your lifeline, and you don’t need someone to hold your damn hand through every second of the day.
He paused at the door to the garage, his gaze drifting over the tools hanging neatly on the walls. Ironic, wasn’t it? How someone like him, who prided himself on rejecting everything Christianity had tried to hammer into his skull, found solace in someone like you. A figure who seemed to embody everything he’d hated about faith: hope, forgiveness, devotion. Yet, here he was, falling into step with you without ever realizing it. You weren’t an answer to a prayer—Ronin didn’t pray anymore. But somehow, you’d become something he couldn’t deny. Something he hadn’t planned. You left everything for him too. He knows it was for your own good according to him.
But-----
He scoffed under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair as he turned toward the basement. A flicker of movement caught his attention, and he followed it, his boots creaking against the wooden stairs as he descended.
There you were, sitting cross-legged on the floor with your phone, the screen glowing faintly in the dim light. You were so focused you didn’t even hear him approach until his voice broke the silence.
“What the hell are you doing down here?”
You flinched so hard your phone nearly flew out of your hands. “Jeez, Ronin!” you said, clutching your chest. “Can you not sneak up on me like that?”
His smirk spread slowly, a smug, lopsided thing. “I wasn’t sneaking. You’re just jumpy. Seriously, though. The basement? What’re you doing?”
You scrambled to your feet, your cheeks flushing as you shoved your phone into your pocket. “Nothing! I just… needed some fresh air.”
Ronin raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning even more stupidly amused. “Fresh air? In the basement? Yeah, sure. Makes perfect sense.”
You huffed, brushing past him and heading for the stairs. “I needed to think, okay? That’s all. Now go shower or something. I’ll make breakfast.”
He followed you up the stairs, his hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets, his grin never fading. “You speed-walkin’ away like that doesn’t exactly scream ‘innocent.’ What were you really doing, huh? Secretly plotting my downfall? Finding new ways to make me eat actual vegetables?”
You whirled around at the top of the stairs, pointing a finger at him. “Ronin, I swear, if you don’t go take a shower right now, I’m not making you breakfast.”
He leaned against the wall, tilting his head as he looked at you with a mock pout. “A threat? Really? That’s what we’re doing now?”
“Yes,” you said firmly, crossing your arms. “Because you’re being insufferable, and I have important things to do.”
“Important things,” he echoed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Like what? Let me guess, you’re planning to—”
“Go. Shower,” you interrupted, shoving his shoulder lightly. “You probably smell like… like murder or something.”
He laughed at that, a low, gravelly sound that sent a shiver up your spine. “Murder smells better than you’d think, angel.”
“Ronin!”
“Alright, alright,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m going. But this breakfast better be worth it, or you’re never living this down.”
You rolled your eyes, watching as he finally turned toward the bathroom. As the door clicked shut behind him, you let out a sigh of relief. He was impossible, but… he was also Ronin. And that was enough to make you smile as you headed for the kitchen.
Ronin leaned back in his chair, his plate of food mostly untouched as he watched you. You were fidgeting with your phone, tapping your fingers against the floor, your knee bouncing with a restless energy he didn’t usually see in you. You were distracted, anxious—he could tell. The corner of his mouth twitched downward.
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked, breaking the silence. His voice was casual, but there was an edge to it, like he was fishing for something.
You froze, your eyes snapping to his like you’d been caught red-handed. “Nothing,” you blurted, clutching your phone to your chest. “Just… nothing important.”
His brow arched. “Yeah? ‘Cause you look like you’re planning a jailbreak or something. Come on, show me.”
You shook your head so quickly it was almost comical. “No, please don’t ask,” you said softly, your voice almost pleading.
That stopped him in his tracks. He wasn’t sure if it was the tone or the look in your eyes, but something about it made him back off. “Alright, fine. Keep your secrets,” he said, grabbing his fork and focusing on his plate instead.
The tension eased slightly as you took a breath, and for a moment, it seemed like the conversation would end there. But then, you stood abruptly, brushing your hands on your pants like you were gearing up for something.
“I’m going out,” you said, your voice a little too chipper.
Ronin’s fork clattered against his plate as he stared at you. “You’re what?”
“I’m going somewhere. It’s… important,” you said, heading toward the door before he could ask more questions.
He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “The hell do you mean ‘important’? Since when do you have places to be? All you know is this house. What’s so important you’re just up and leaving now?”
You hesitated, your hand on the doorframe, and then turned back to him with a nervous smile. “It’s something I saw online, and I’ve wanted to check it out in person for a while. I’ll be back, don’t worry.”
Ronin squinted at you, his confusion evident. You weren’t making any sense, and that only made him more suspicious. But the way you smiled at him—genuine, if not a little nervous—made him hold his tongue.
“Fine,” he said after a long pause. “Go do… whatever. Just don’t get into trouble.”
“I won’t!” you chirped, practically skipping toward your room to get dressed.
Ronin stayed at the table, staring at your empty seat with a frown. He’d told himself over and over that he wasn’t the clingy type, but your sudden departure left a sour taste in his mouth. It wasn’t like you to leave like this, especially not after you’d been so jittery all morning. And after the fall? You barely left the house unless it was with him.
He drummed his fingers against the table, muttering under his breath. “The hell is this about?”
The thought of following you crossed his mind for a split second, but he dismissed it just as quickly. He wasn’t that petty. Besides, you weren’t the type to run off and… see someone else. No, this was something different.
Still, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the back of his mind. His birthday was tomorrow, and while he’d never been the kind of guy to care much about celebrating, he’d been looking forward to spending the day with you. It wasn’t about the gifts or the attention—it was about having someone who actually gave a damn.
He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe you really had found something online and decided to check it out. But that didn’t explain why you’d been acting so weird.
he sat there, his thoughts swirling, he couldn’t help but feel a little… disappointed. For someone who claimed they didn’t care about birthdays, he sure was hoping this one would be different.
Meanwhile, in your room, you were frantically changing into something casual but nice, your heart racing as you double-checked everything you needed. You weren’t great at lying to Ronin—he could read you like an open book—but you’d managed to keep your plan under wraps.
Tomorrow was his birthday, and you wanted to make it special. Not just for him, but for you, too. It was the first birthday you’d get to celebrate with him as his partner, and you were determined to make it memorable.
As you slipped out of the house, you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for leaving without telling him the truth. But if you could pull this off, it would all be worth it.
Ronin, meanwhile, stayed seated at the table, his thoughts gnawing at him. What the hell is going on? he thought, rubbing at the back of his neck. You weren’t one to keep secrets, and the fact that you had one now was driving him insane.
He didn’t know where you were going, but he wasn’t about to follow. He wasn’t that guy. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what you were up to—and why it felt like it had something to do with him.
After you left, Ronin found himself standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on his hips, staring at nothing in particular. He muttered to himself as he finally picked up his plate and tossed the leftovers into the trash.
“Off doing some secret mission,” he grumbled. “You’re getting soft, Ronin. Too soft.”
Shaking his head, he decided to push the thoughts aside. There was work to do, after all. His garage was already buzzing by the time he headed out, and he quickly threw himself into fixing up bikes and cars, his usual clientele trickling in.
For the first couple of hours, he let his mind go blank, focusing only on the familiar rhythm of the tools in his hands. But as time went on, a different kind of restlessness crept in. Every time a customer walked through the door, he’d scan them, sizing them up, seeing if there was something interesting about them. Someone who deserved to end up on the wrong end of his crowbar.
Unfortunately, the day was as dull as they came. No one stood out—not even the cocky guy with a busted muffler who tried to haggle the price down.
Ronin sighed as he wiped the grease from his hands, watching the man leave. “Boring,” he muttered under his breath. “Pathetic. You’re all safe today, losers.”
After a few moments of silence, Ronin’s phone buzzed. His face lit up with a smirk as he saw the notification—his server chat, where he and his lovely crew always kept things lively. He opened it, and the first thing he saw was Luca’s message.
Luca (username: Luca): "So, how's your dear Angel from the sky?
Ronin rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the slight chuckle that escaped him. Luca never changed.
Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Pathetic, Well, your opinion doesn’t matter, now does it?"
Feli (username: Felicite): "I hope they're fine? "
Ronin scrolled down, his phone lighting up with Angel's message right after.
Angel (username: Angelicc): "Hey, where’s Y/N? I thought you two were together today?"
Ronin paused for a moment, thinking about how to answer. He didn’t want to mention anything about you leaving; he didn’t want them to see that as a crack in the perfect image he liked to keep up. Not yet.
Ronin (username: Goreboy): "They left. Said something about seeing something online. You know how they get."
Misaki responded almost immediately, and Ronin’s lips curled up into a smirk as he read her message.
Misaki (username: Hitmeupp): "Better not be some man/woman thing. You know Y/N’s too innocent for that, right? Can barely handle an app without getting confused."
Ronin snorted in amusement, knowing it was true. You were still getting the hang of apps, and there were so many times he’d had to explain things to you in the past. But he loved that about you, how... innocent you still were in that regard. He felt protective, even though he didn’t always show it.
Ronin (username: Goreboy): "You’re giving them too much credit. They’re too dumb to even deal with that. They’re clueless about half the apps on their phone. But sure, let’s pretend it’s some big mystery."
Misaki shot back quickly.
Misaki (username: Hitmeupp): "Not really dumb. Pretty cute, actually. Wouldn’t you agree, Ronin?"
Ronin rolled his eyes. Misaki never could resist teasing him.
Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Yeah, they’re cute. That’s about it, though."
The messages from the server continued to pour in as he scrolled, his attention flicking between his phone and the work he had to finish. That’s when V’s message appeared in his inbox.
V (username: K9): Why do you sound so gloomy? Everything alright, Ronin?
Ronin’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as he stared at the message, unsure if he should respond. V had always been quiet, and his sudden concern felt out of place. Why would V care?
He typed back quickly, trying to brush it off.
Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Yeah, I’m fine. Just dealing with some shit, nothing new. No need to worry about it."
But V didn’t let it go. Instead, he sent a follow-up message that immediately caught Ronin off guard.
V (username: K9): Seriously, though. You ever thought about what Misaki said? About Y/N?
Ronin stopped in his tracks, staring at the screen. What the hell did Misaki say? He hadn’t even processed it fully. Was V really pulling this line of questioning?
He smirked, typing his reply with his usual post-ironic attitude.
Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Since when did my angel start caring about Y/N?"
V (username: K9): It’s not about that. Just wondering if you’ve really thought about it. You’re kind of in deep with them, huh?
Ronin couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up from his chest. He quickly typed out his response, brushing it off as he always did.
Ronin (username: Goreboy): "No, I haven’t thought about it. Even if it’s true, I don’t care. Doesn’t change anything. Just a person, right?"
There was a brief silence on V’s end, but before Ronin could move on, Misaki’s message came flooding in.
Misaki (username: Hitmeupp): "Even if you think so, Ronin, you’re way too defensive. And don’t get me started on how cute Y/N is. No one else would look at them like you do, and you know it!"
Ronin’s smirk twisted into something more genuine. He didn’t mind their teasing—it was part of the game. But Misaki was right about one thing: you were special. He just didn’t have the words to explain it. Hell, even he didn’t fully get it.
He paused for a second, fingers hovering over the keyboard again. Then, with a shrug, he typed.
Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Alright, alright, sure. But you all know what I’m about. Y/N can be anyone. They’re not the only one in my world."
There was a brief pause before Luca decided to chime in.
Luca (username: Luca): "Is that the case? Because I’m not so sure, man. I think you’re just mad because they left to go check something out. Don’t tell me it’s all part of some big plan to be ‘post-ironic’ again."
Misaki, though, immediately defended you, even if they hadn’t met you in person.
Misaki (username: Hitmeupp): "Don’t be an asshole, Luca. You know nothing about Y/N. You don’t get to say shit. Even if I haven’t met them, I can tell that Ronin wouldn’t be the way he is if they weren’t worth it."
The chat immediately went quiet after that, all eyes seemingly on Ronin to respond.
Ronin just sat there, his phone in his hand, considering his words carefully. Did they really think he didn’t know? But you weren’t anyone else. You weren’t just a game like the others. You were his own twisted, confusing connection—and that was something no one in this chat could ever truly understand. He finally typed.
Ronin (username: Goreboy): "Yeah, maybe you’re right. Whatever, it’s fine. I’ll deal with it. We’re good."
And with that, he leaned back, the phone buzzing with more messages from the others, but his mind was elsewhere. Even if he acted like he didn’t care—hell, even if he convinced himself he didn’t—there was something different about you, something that made him want to keep this mess going. And for the first time in a while, he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing… or the worst thing to ever happen to him.
The air in the mall buzzed with a mix of soft music and distant chatter. You hadn’t expected to spend the day shopping, but something inside you knew you needed to find the perfect gift for Ronin. The kind of gift that wasn’t just about the usual routine, but something that spoke of your own emotions—something personal. It felt strange, this need to get him something that would signify the bond between you two, but you couldn’t shake the thought. After all, he was unpredictable, dark, and elusive in a way that made you want to prove your place in his chaotic world.
You walked into the store, the doors chiming softly as you entered. It was a gothic-themed boutique, filled with black velvet, chains, silver jewelry, and intricate designs that seemed to speak to a part of you that mirrored Ronin's own twisted love for all things dark and bizarre. A shopkeeper, a young woman in her mid-20s with sharp eyeliner and a soft, almost mischievous smile, greeted you immediately.
"Hello there! You’ve come to the right place," she said brightly, clasping her hands together. "We’ve got all sorts of goth accessories. Are you looking for something special today?" She leaned in closer, her excitement almost contagious.
You hesitated, but her enthusiasm made you smile. "I’m looking for something for someone," you replied, trying not to give away too much. "Maybe something… meaningful?"
"Oh, I love that," she gushed, nodding enthusiastically. "We have so many things that could symbolize, like, special connections!" She started leading you to the display, her eyes practically gleaming with the knowledge of all the dark, romantic pieces the store had.
The first thing she showed you was a set of chokers, each one adorned with gothic symbols and sharp, silver spikes. There was a particularly striking one that had Devil May God Forgive You engraved on it in intricate cursive. The leather strap seemed almost too harsh, too forward. You almost smiled, wondering if Ronin would appreciate it—or if he’d mock you for it.
"That one’s a classic," the girl said, catching your eye. "But maybe you want something a bit more, uh, subtle? We’ve got the sorry Christ one, if you’re feeling more... repentant." She winked at you as she pulled a smooth, black velvet choker from the shelf, adorned with a small silver cross, almost like a twisted apology.
You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head. "Maybe not that one." The thought of Ronin wearing something like that made you feel both embarrassed and amused.
She didn’t seem deterred and moved on to the next set, showing you a row of necklaces with heavy silver chains, pendants shaped like daggers, skulls, and moons, each one glinting under the soft lighting of the shop. But nothing seemed right.
You continued browsing, feeling the weight of several bags already hanging from your arms. You had picked up a few things along the way—nothing for Ronin, but a few trinkets that spoke to your own taste, like a black mesh top that would look stunning on you and some more accessories for yourself. As you walked past rows of velvet jackets, platform boots, and studded gloves, your eyes landed on a small glass case in the back.
Inside, nestled on a bed of black satin, was a set of earrings—one pair stood out above the rest. They were elegant, simple, but undeniably gothic. Two ruby stones set in dark silver, their deep red hues striking against the cool tones of the metal. The moment your eyes fell on them, you felt a tug in your chest. That’s it.
The shopkeeper, noticing your gaze, practically floated over to you. "Ah, I see you’ve found them! Those are our best sellers." She gave you a knowing look. "Ruby stones symbolize pure love and passion, you know. I think that’s exactly what you’re looking for, right? Something that shows just how deep that connection is." She smiled sweetly, her voice softer now, almost as if she were reading you.
You blinked, a little startled by her insight. "Yeah, I think so," you replied, reaching for the case. The cool metal of the earrings felt smooth between your fingers, and you could almost feel them calling to you.
"Those are beautiful," the girl said, eyes sparkling with excitement. "And trust me, the stones are very meaningful. It’s like a declaration of something deep, something eternal. I think your person will absolutely love them." She grinned at you, her smile wide and warm, but her eyes seemed to be probing a little more than necessary, reading the situation in a way you couldn’t fully place.
"I’ll take them," you said quickly, not wanting to waste another second.
"Perfect choice!" she replied, practically bouncing as she wrapped the earrings carefully in black tissue paper, placing them into a sleek, black gift bag with a silver ribbon.
You grinned at her, almost feeling the weight of the gift in your hand before it was even given. There was something about the way she treated you like a kindred spirit that made the whole experience feel oddly... intimate.
After she handed you the bag, you spent the next few moments gathering the other bags you had collected during your impromptu shopping spree. But your attention kept flickering back to the earrings, the symbolism of the ruby stones, and how Ronin would react. It felt almost like you were giving him a piece of your own heart, a little piece of something that, no matter how dark, still burned with passion and meaning.
Once you had everything packed, you gave the shopkeeper a smile, and she waved goodbye with a kindhearted "Good luck!"
You wandered deeper into the mall, the weight of your shopping bags growing heavier with each store you visited. The bags clinked softly with various treasures you’d collected—everything from clothes with edgy prints to accessories that screamed emo-geek chic. Mesh tops, studded belts, and fingerless gloves found their way into your collection, along with some black denim and a hoodie that looked like it belonged in a gothic fairytale.
Every piece you picked out reminded you of Ronin in some way, as though each item was a part of a puzzle that would make him smirk or—if you were lucky—maybe even smile.
Then, you stumbled upon a quaint, old-fashioned sewing-on-the-spot shop tucked away in a quiet corner of the mall. The sign was hand-painted, the letters slightly faded, and the interior smelled faintly of lavender and aged thread. Curious, you stepped inside, the bell above the door jingling softly.
Behind the counter, an older woman with sharp eyes and nimble fingers sat, stitching something intricate onto a fabric square. Her gaze flickered up at you, assessing, before she offered a small nod of approval.
"Well, well," she said, her voice raspy but kind. "Haven’t seen one of your kind here in a while. What can I do for you, youngster?"
You hesitated, looking around the shop. "I was wondering... could you help me make something? A, um, beanie?" Your voice wavered slightly, but the old woman raised an eyebrow and set down her needle.
"Beanie, eh? What kind of beanie are we talking about? Don’t tell me it’s one of those devilish ones," she said, half-joking, though her tone carried a touch of judgment.
You blushed, feeling heat creep up your neck. "Actually, yes," you admitted sheepishly, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of one of your bags. "With little horns, maybe?"
The woman let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Kids these days," she muttered, but there was no malice in her voice. She motioned for you to come closer. "All right, let’s see what we can do. Pick a fabric."
You chose a soft, black material, perfect for a cozy yet rebellious look. As the woman worked, she couldn’t resist making little comments.
"Back in my day, we didn’t need to wear things with horns to stand out," she said, her hands moving expertly as she sewed. "Just a good attitude and a strong heart. Not like these flimsy trends now."
You couldn’t help but smile nervously, nodding along. "Yeah, I guess things are different now." You hesitated before adding, "It’s actually for my... boyfriend." The word felt strange on your tongue, almost foreign, but at the same time, it warmed your chest. Boyfriend. Was that what Ronin was?
The old woman paused for a moment, looking at you with a mix of surprise and amusement. "Boyfriend, huh?" she echoed, her voice teasing. "Well, aren’t you the sweetest? Making something by hand, no less. That’s rare these days. He better appreciate it."
You blushed harder, feeling the weight of her words. The thought of giving Ronin the beanie, seeing him wear it, was both thrilling and nerve-wracking. "I hope he likes it," you said softly, your fingers brushing against the edge of the counter.
As the woman finished sewing, your ring finger caught on a stray needle, and you winced as a sharp sting jolted through your hand. A single drop of blood welled up on the tip of your finger. The pain was fleeting, but the odd thing was the spot it hit—right where a ring might go.
"Careful," the woman scolded gently, handing you a tissue. "Don’t want to ruin that pretty finger of yours."
You nodded, murmuring a quiet thanks as you dabbed at the small wound. For a moment, you stared at your finger, an odd ache blooming in your chest. It was as if the sting wasn’t just physical. Maybe it was the weight of all these emotions, or the fact that you were human now, no longer the celestial being you once were. It felt heavy, strange, but also... right.
"All done," the woman said, holding up the finished beanie. It was perfect—soft, black, with two small devil horns stitched on top. You smiled, your heart swelling with pride and gratitude.
"Thank you," you said, taking the beanie and carefully placing it in one of your bags.
Your next stop was the hardware store. The clean, metallic smell of tools and equipment greeted you as you stepped inside. You immediately made a beeline for the mechanics section, knowing exactly what you were looking for.
You grabbed a brand-new set of tools—everything from wrenches to screwdrivers—then spotted something that made you pause: a crowbar. It was sleek, black, and looked like it was practically made for Ronin.
He’d love this, you thought, picking it up. As you turned it over in your hands, you couldn’t help but imagine him holding it, smirking that cocky grin of his as he teased you about your thoughtfulness.
By the time you left the store, your arms were weighed down with even more bags, but your heart felt light. Between the beanie, the earrings, and now the tools and crowbar, you felt like you were putting together pieces of a puzzle that only Ronin would fully understand.
You entered the cake shop, the sweet, sugary scent of fresh-baked goods wafting through the air and immediately making your stomach growl. The shop was warm and inviting, with a cozy little kitchen at the back where customers could make cakes from scratch on the spot. It had a rustic charm, with wooden counters and old-fashioned decorations that made it feel like a place where magic could happen—where you could create something special with your own hands.
As you approached the counter, one of the ladies behind it looked up and smiled warmly at you. "Oh, how cute! You're going to make a cake? And for your boyfriend, you say?" Her voice was sweet and almost teasing, but there was genuine warmth in her eyes as she looked at you.
"Yeah... it's his birthday tomorrow," you replied softly, feeling a blush creep up your neck. It felt a little strange saying it out loud, but the words "my boyfriend" felt more real every time you said them. You smiled at the thought of Ronin, his dark eyes, his sarcastic smirk... and that weird, almost tender side of him that you knew was there.
"Well, aren't you sweet? A special cake for a special guy. What are you making?" she asked, clearly eager to see your creation.
You hesitated for a moment before answering. "I think... an apple crumble cake. I found a recipe from someone... she’s really good at baking. It’s a surprise."
The lady's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Apple crumble cake, huh? That sounds delicious! Well, we'll make sure you do a fantastic job. Just follow the steps and take your time."
You nodded, feeling reassured. This was your chance to make something perfect for Ronin. You couldn't help but smile at the thought of him enjoying something you made just for him.
With a deep breath, you rolled up your sleeves and began.
Apple Crumble Cake Recipe Steps:
1. Preheat the oven to 350°F (175°C). You carefully adjusted the oven, feeling a slight excitement building in your chest. It was the first step to making the cake come to life.
2. Prepare the crumble topping. You took a bowl and combined the dry ingredients for the crumble. You mixed together 1 cup of flour, 1/2 cup of sugar, and 1/4 teaspoon of cinnamon. Then you added 1/2 cup of cold butter, cutting it into chunks before using your fingers to rub the butter into the dry ingredients until it formed a crumbly texture. The buttery scent filled the air, making your mouth water in anticipation.
"Looking good!" the lady behind the counter said, noticing your progress. "You're doing great!"
You smiled shyly and continued, feeling a little more confident. You set the crumble aside, ready for the next step.
3. Prepare the apple filling. Next, you peeled and sliced 3 medium apples, cutting them into thin pieces. You sprinkled 1 tablespoon of sugar and a pinch of cinnamon over them, tossing them together in a bowl to coat the apples evenly. The sweet aroma of the apples mixed with the cinnamon made you feel cozy, almost nostalgic.
4. Mix the cake batter. In another bowl, you combined 1 1/2 cups of flour, 1 teaspoon of baking powder, and a pinch of salt. In a separate bowl, you whisked 1/2 cup of sugar and 1/4 cup of softened butter until creamy. You added in 2 eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Then, you alternated adding the dry ingredients and 1/2 cup of milk, mixing until the batter was smooth and thick.
5. Assemble the cake. You greased the cake pan and poured the batter into the bottom, smoothing it out evenly. Then, you carefully arranged the apple slices on top, creating a beautiful layer of apples. Finally, you sprinkled the crumble mixture over the apples, making sure every bit of the cake had a sweet, crunchy topping.
"You've got this!" the lady cheered as you placed the pan in the oven. "Just bake it for about 45 minutes, or until the top is golden and the cake is cooked through."
You set the timer, your excitement building as you imagined Ronin's reaction. The cake was still baking, but you could already picture him, leaning against the counter, that smirk tugging at his lips as he took the first bite.
As the cake baked, the sweet smell of apples and cinnamon filled the shop, making your stomach rumble again. The lady at the counter was busy helping other customers, but she occasionally glanced over at you, giving you encouraging smiles.
When the timer finally went off, you carefully pulled the apple crumble cake from the oven. The golden topping and the caramelized apples glistened in the soft light of the bakery, and you couldn't help but feel proud. It looked perfect—just like the surprise you wanted to give Ronin.
"Wow, that looks amazing!" one of the other ladies exclaimed as she came over to inspect. "You're a natural!"
You blushed, feeling shy again. "I hope he likes it."
They all gathered around, admiring the cake with smiles, their eyes twinkling with warmth. "He’s going to love it," the first lady said, "and it’s so sweet of you to make it for him yourself."
You grinned, feeling a wave of happiness wash over you. Despite all the nerves and the uncertainty about Ronin's feelings, you knew one thing for sure: this cake, this surprise, was your way of showing him just how much you cared.
"Thank you so much for your help," you said, handing over the empty bowls and utensils. "This really means a lot to me."
"No problem at all, sweetie!" the lady said, her voice full of affection. "You come back anytime if you need any more help."
With a cake box in hand, filled with your creation, you left the shop, feeling more confident than ever. You had the perfect gift for Ronin, and you couldn’t wait for tomorrow to see his reaction.
It was going to be a birthday he would never forget.
You were struggling to carry all the bags, your hands full of everything from gothic jewelry to new mechanics equipment and the ingredients for the cake you’d just made. The weight of it all made your arms ache, and you couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed as you tried to juggle everything. You were so focused on keeping everything from falling that you didn’t hear your phone ring at first.
When you finally glanced at the screen, you saw Angel’s name flashing in bold letters.
"Hey," you answered, trying to sound casual as you shifted the bags in your arms, feeling your fingers beginning to cramp. "What's up?"
"How are you?" Angel’s voice came through, light and cheerful, but there was a slight teasing undertone. "Seems like you left Ronin’s early this morning, huh?"
You bit your lip, trying to focus on walking straight without tripping over your own feet. "Yeah, just bought stuff... a lot of stuff," you said, a sigh slipping from your lips. "I don’t even know how I’m gonna carry all this back."
Angel laughed lightly. "Sounds like you’ve been busy," she teased. "You know, if you want, I can get a taxi for you. Just send me your address, and I’ll make sure you’re all set."
You glanced around, the thought of navigating the rest of the trip home with all this in hand was making you more exhausted by the second. "It’s fine, really. I can manage," you said, though your voice had a slight tinge of defeat. It wasn’t like you didn’t appreciate her offer, but you didn’t want to seem like you couldn’t handle it.
"Okay, but seriously, let me know if you change your mind. Don’t be stubborn," she replied with a chuckle, then her tone shifted slightly. "So, um… do you think it’s okay if the server keeps Ronin tomorrow for a while? I mean, just to give you some space, you know? It’s his birthday, and… well, I was thinking it might be nice if he gets a little time with the others."
You paused for a moment, contemplating her question. It was a small thing, but it was also a little strange to think about. "Yeah, that’s fine," you replied, your voice a little softer now. "Ronin’s not the type to care about stuff like that. He probably won’t even notice."
Angel’s voice was warm, a little teasing but understanding. "Well, I’m sure you’ll make up for it later," she said with a wink in her tone. "You’ve got all that cool stuff, right? And that cake—he’s gonna love it."
You smiled at the thought, the cake was a simple thing, but you were so proud of it. "I hope so," you replied. "I just... wanted to do something nice for him."
Angel's voice softened. "I know you do. And I think he’ll really appreciate it. But hey, if you’re ever overwhelmed, you know you can always reach out, okay? I’ve got your back."
"Thanks, Angel," you said quietly, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. "I appreciate it."
you were walking, your thoughts still scattered between the bags, the cake, and tomorrow’s plans, you suddenly felt a jolt—someone bumped into you, knocking into your arms. The bags in your hands swayed dangerously, and for a second, you thought everything was going to fall, the cake included. You gasped, eyes wide as you fumbled, barely managing to catch everything in time.
“Woah, sorry,” a deep voice rumbled from behind you. You froze. That voice. You knew it all too well.
You slowly turned, looking up to find a man standing before you. His dark, piercing gaze met yours, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat in confusion and wariness. V.
He looked at you, his expression unreadable, before speaking in that familiar gravelly tone that always sent shivers down your spine, “I’ve seen you before, but I don’t think we’ve met.”
Your mind raced. V? The same V who hated Ronin? The one who had crossed paths with him multiple times, their rivalry simmering just beneath the surface, full of unspoken tension? Your instinct told you to be cautious, to step back, but you tried to keep your composure.
“It must be a coincidence,” you muttered quickly, trying to brush past him. You didn’t want to deal with this right now. Ronin’s strange behavior, the looming sense of tension you’d been feeling—it was all enough without running into V at this exact moment.
But V’s next words stopped you in your tracks. “Stop,” he said, his voice low, almost commanding, like Batman on a bad day. There was a certain weight to it, something that made you freeze even though you didn’t want to.
His intense gaze stayed locked on you as he stepped forward, taking some of the bags from your hands. You hesitated, feeling a strange knot form in your stomach. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him—it was just… unsettling. The tension between him and Ronin was something you could never ignore. You didn’t want to get caught in the middle of whatever that was.
“You’re carrying a lot,” he said, his tone still dark, but strangely softer now. “Let me help you.”
For a moment, you considered refusing, but there was something about the way he said it, his presence overwhelming in that strange way, that made it difficult to refuse. Reluctantly, you handed over a few more bags. As he adjusted the weight, you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he carried them, his strength almost unnerving. The silence between you both felt thick, oppressive.
You looked away, trying to dismiss the unsettling feeling growing inside you. "Thanks... I guess," you muttered, trying to move on. “I’ve got it from here.”
V didn’t say anything for a moment, but then his eyes flickered toward you, and you felt like he was seeing right through you. Something about the way he observed you made your skin crawl a little. It wasn’t malicious, exactly, but it felt like he was studying you—like there was something about you he was trying to figure out.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, his voice softening just a little. “You look... a little off. I’ve seen that look before. You don’t have to hide it.”
You blinked, startled. “What look?” You hadn’t realized you’d been so transparent, but there was something about his presence, something in the air, that made you uneasy.
He seemed to smile, though it wasn’t one you could read. “It’s nothing.” He stepped back, giving you space as you adjusted the bags, your heart racing slightly. “But be careful. Not everyone is who they seem to be.” His voice had taken on a warning tone now.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you nodded, unsure of what to say. Was he warning you about Ronin? Was he talking about the things that had been on your mind all day?
“Thanks for helping,” you said, your voice uncertain but polite as you tried to turn away, ready to get back to your task and leave this strange encounter behind you.
V didn’t follow you, but his eyes stayed on you for a beat longer than you’d expected. You walked away quickly, feeling that unsettling gaze on your back, and for a moment, you thought you could still feel it—the weight of someone’s eyes, watching, tracking you.
It was almost as if it reminded you of Ronin, of how he would sometimes seem to observe you while you slept, even though you knew he was just close, close enough to keep you safe in his twisted way.
But you shook that thought away. That was probably just your mind playing tricks on you, wasn’t it? Ronin wouldn’t do anything weird. Right?
You fumbled with the bags, feeling the weight of them pulling on your arms as you approached the house. The familiar sight of Ronin's garage was there, quiet and dim. But as you approached the front door, something caught your attention—there was an unusual silence. The door was locked. You frowned, pulling out your keys, only to realize you had forgotten them inside.
A brief pang of frustration hit, but you dismissed it quickly. No big deal, you could sneak in through the basement. The back door wasn’t locked, after all.
You shuffled toward the side, carefully placing the bags down so they wouldn’t spill open, the cake still nestled in its box, precariously balanced between them. It wasn’t easy carrying all this, but the thought of making Ronin happy, especially with his birthday right around the corner, kept you motivated.
You crouched and entered through the basement door, the cool air immediately wrapping around you like a cloak. It was a little darker down here than you expected, but you didn’t mind; you were used to the shadows. The basement felt like a safe haven to you, hidden from the rest of the world.
But as you moved deeper into the cluttered space, your foot caught on something. Tires. They were placed in a rough pattern, almost like they were meant to trip someone up. Before you could stop yourself, your foot slipped, and you stumbled forward, bags flying out of your grip.
The cake box hit the ground with a dull thud. You gasped, feeling the tears rise at the thought of the cake being ruined, all your hard work for nothing. You quickly knelt, fumbling to check on the condition of the cake. You hadn't realized the position it had fallen into yet, but you couldn't think about that too much. You needed to make sure it was still in one piece.
"Dear Maria!" you muttered under your breath, but before you could stand up, a pair of hands wrapped around your neck from behind, fingers tightening in an almost suffocating grip. Your breath hitched, panic flooding you instantly. You didn’t have to see who it was to know. You’d felt his presence before.
Ronin Beaufort.
“Where the hell were you?” His voice was low, demanding, the usual mix of frustration and something darker. “What were you doing with V?”
You froze, the air squeezing from your lungs. You hadn’t expected him to catch you here, not like this. You felt your heart race, and your thoughts scrambled, trying to find the right words. You hadn’t even known V was following you, or why he was even there. “I—I don’t know,” you stammered, the words tumbling out. “It’s nothing. I didn’t even know it was V until I saw him in person. He just bumped into me. I swear, I didn’t do anything.”
Ronin’s grip tightened for a second, as if to gauge the sincerity of your words. The tension in the air between you both was suffocating, his presence so overpowering it was almost like he could feel every little movement you made.
But then, just as quickly as he’d grabbed you, his fingers loosened, and he pulled away. You gasped for air, blinking rapidly, the relief short-lived as you tried to make sense of what just happened.
Ronin stared at you for a moment longer, his eyes unreadable, before he spoke again. “Sit.” His voice was flat, but the command still rang in your ears. “Sit in the chair.”
You glanced up, your eyes still a little wide from the shock. The chair in the corner was always a spot he used for moments like this, though you didn’t exactly know what to expect. You hesitated for a second, then slowly shuffled toward it, feeling like a puppet on strings, your body moving of its own accord.
You lowered yourself onto the chair, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you. The bags were scattered, and the cake—it had fallen. You didn’t dare to look at it fully yet, too scared of what you might find.
Ronin didn’t sit; instead, he remained standing, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. His eyes flickered toward the box that had once held the cake. “What the hell is going on with you?” he asked again, his voice softer, but no less piercing. "You’ve been acting weird."
You felt your stomach twist at his question, not sure how to answer. You wanted to explain that it was just a moment of panic, a slip of the mind, but the truth was, the feeling had been building for a while now—this strange tension, this overwhelming sense that you weren’t sure of anything anymore. You didn’t know how to explain that to him, or if he would even understand.
You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “I... I’m fine,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. But deep down, you weren’t sure if you were lying to him or to yourself.
Ronin stood there, arms crossed, his usual detached expression masking whatever turmoil was swirling beneath the surface. The basement was dim, and the faint light from the overhead bulb cast harsh shadows across his features. His posture was slack, but his eyes—his eyes were sharp, always watching, always searching for the tiniest crack to slip his hand into.
You swallowed, feeling the weight of your apology settle in your chest. The tension between you both felt like a thick fog, pressing down on everything you wanted to say, but you forced yourself to speak through it.
"Ronin… I’m sorry for what happened the other day. Brushing you off like that… I know it was wrong. But there was a reason behind everything. It might sound like an excuse, but… will you listen?"
He raised an eyebrow, the typical edge in his voice softening, if only slightly. His usual demeanor was more guarded, but you saw a flicker of curiosity beneath the hardness. Still, his reply came with a bite.
"What is it, darlin’? Better not be some bullshit reason. I won’t forgive you if it’s bullshit."
Your heart pounded. You could almost feel the weight of his eyes, scrutinizing you, as if he could see through every single hesitation. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Tomorrow’s your birthday, right?"
His gaze hardened instantly, but the surprise in his eyes was unmistakable. You could feel the weight of his surprise hanging in the air. It was the first time in a while you had seen him at a loss for words, and for a moment, you thought he might break that post-ironic façade of his.
You continued, not letting the sudden shift in his expression distract you. "That’s why I wanted to celebrate. So I’ve been preparing this whole time. I was talking to Angel, looking through shops that could maybe help with the cake… I was debating what would make for a good present. I… I really wanted it to be a surprise."
He was silent for a moment, his jaw clenched, as though he was running over your words, trying to understand the meaning behind them. His eyes softened just a fraction, and for a moment, you thought maybe you were getting through to him. But then, his voice cut through the silence—laced with confusion and that familiar edge of sarcasm.
"Then why didn’t you tell me?" His tone held an odd mix of frustration and disbelief, as though the concept of you keeping something from him didn’t quite sit right. "What the hell do you mean 'you wanted to surprise me'? You didn’t think I’d want to know?"
You bit your lip, guilt gnawing at you. "Because I wanted it to be a surprise, so I figured it would be better if you didn’t know," you admitted quietly. "I’m sorry."
He let out a sharp laugh, but there was no humor in it. "God," he muttered under his breath, rubbing his face with his hand. "So you’re saying because of that, I got the wrong idea and got mad without a reason? Shit… I was completely thrown by Misaki's stupidity." The confession seemed to deflate him a little. His usual bitterness faded as he took a step back, arms uncrossing as if some of the tension in his body was finally being released. You didn’t know what to say at first, but you knew you had to push through it.
"I truly am sorry," you murmured, glancing up at him through your lashes.
Ronin smirked, though it wasn’t one of his usual mocking grins. "By the way, don’t you see? I’m your average pretty anti-Christ devil Family friendly serial killer, you know?" He said it with the same post-ironic tone he always used, knowing full well how ridiculous it sounded, but that was exactly why he said it. For the rise it would get from you. "Did you really think I’d celebrate every single birthday still?" You blinked, feeling a pang of discomfort at the sharpness of his words. Still, you couldn’t help but feel the underlying vulnerability in the way he said it, like he was testing you, poking at the idea to see how you'd react.
"No," you replied softly, your voice just above a whisper. "Even if you are one… even if you are someone else, it’s still your birthday. And I… I think it’s important." You hesitated for a moment, your fingers twitching slightly. "It’s the day you were born into this world, after all. I’m happy to be with you. That’s what matters to me."
His eyes flicked to you, their depth now unreadable. The room was silent for a few moments, the only sound the faint hum of the fridge in the corner. For a split second, you thought maybe he would brush it all off, that usual detachment settling back in.
But then, a small, almost imperceptible shift happened. Ronin’s eyes softened, the sarcastic edge fading. "Don’t go acting all sweet on me, alright?" he muttered, and for a moment, you couldn’t tell if it was admiration or something darker, but you saw a trace of something real in his words. His expression didn’t soften entirely, but you could feel the walls he’d put up around himself, crumbling just a little.
Ronin’s gaze softened as he stepped closer, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. The tension in the air shifted, becoming thick with something unspoken as his eyes drifted down to your hand, where your ring finger had a faint bruise from earlier.
Without saying a word, Ronin reached out, his fingers brushing against your skin as he gently held your hand. You blinked in surprise, not expecting him to do anything about the injury, but when he leaned down and pressed a soft, almost hesitant kiss to the spot where you’d hurt yourself, a shiver ran up your spine.
“What…?” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper, heart fluttering at his sudden gentleness.
He didn’t answer at first. Instead, he gently licked the spot where the wound had been, as if trying to soothe it, his eyes never leaving yours. The act was unexpected, but his usual edge of sarcasm was replaced by something almost tender.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “Put a small bandage on it. You don’t need to make a big deal out of it.”
You hesitated, the warmth of his touch still lingering on your skin. "It’s a small wound," you said, trying to downplay it, but his gaze hardened slightly as he pulled back.
“Shut up,” Ronin snapped, though his words were softer than usual. There was no malice in them, just a kind of raw affection that he wasn’t quite ready to admit. He then let out a small sigh, his lips curving into a smile that was rare but real. “You’re lucky I’m even treating you like this, darling.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his gruffness, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “Okay…” you replied innocently, your voice almost teasing despite the situation.
Just as you were about to say something else, a loud alarm suddenly blared from your phone. The sound sliced through the moment, making you jump in surprise. You glanced at the screen, your heart skipping a beat as you saw the notification.
Midnight Bell. It’s his birthday.
You froze for a moment, eyes wide in realization. Your breath caught in your throat, and a burst of excitement rushed through you. It was finally his birthday. The moment you had been preparing for had arrived.
Ronin, for once, didn’t seem irritated by the sound. Instead, his eyes darkened slightly, as if he had been expecting this moment too. “Well, well,” he said, his voice low, a dangerous smirk curling at the edges of his lips. “It’s about time, huh?”
"Ah… the midnight bell…" you muttered, your hands trembling slightly as you glanced at the time.
Ronin's voice was a drawl, almost bored as he stared at you, but you could hear the subtle amusement beneath it. “...The date changed.”
You laughed nervously, fumbling for words. “It’s your birthday! Congratulations, Ronin!"
"Yeah..." he replied, voice quiet, almost indifferent, but you could see a faint smile tugging at his lips. The sort of smile that made your heart skip a beat, despite yourself.
Your thoughts quickly turned to the cake. Present? You thought. Oh no... I forgot the cake... The panic surged within you as you realized what you’d done. “Aahーー!!”
Ronin’s eyebrows raised slightly at your sudden outburst. " What’s your problem!? Suddenly shouting like that..."
You tried to steady your breath. "The cake... I forgot I dropped it..."
Ronin's gaze shifted to the side where the box lay carelessly on the counter. "Cake? ... could it be that box laying over there...?"
You winced. "Y-Yeah... When I tried to come sneakily but you.. I accidentally..."
"God..." he muttered, shaking his head but not with anger, more like exasperation. It was almost endearing in a twisted way.
You lowered your head, feeling embarrassed. "S-Sorry!!"
Ronin gave you a look that could’ve been a warning, but then his lips curled into a smirk. "Pfft! You're making a funny face. ...There we go."
He effortlessly walked over to the box, picking it up with a casual motion. You couldn’t help but watch him. The cake had obviously been ruined by the fall—cream spilling out from the sides, a far cry from the masterpiece you’d envisioned—but Ronin seemed unfazed.
He tilted the box toward his face, his gaze flicking between you and the cake. The squirt of cream against his finger was almost… intimate. He tasted it with a smirk, licking the finger clean, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Well... it’s a little ruined, but it’s not bad, you know?" Ronin said, his voice dark and laced with amusement.
You stood there, unsure how to respond, staring at the disaster of a cake. "I’m so sorry... I didn’t mean to..."
He leaned in, his expression sharpening into something more dangerous, more teasing. "Tch. Don’t apologize so much. It’s not the end of the world, darling. But now..."
The room was quiet except for the soft rustling of the sheets and the occasional chuckle that escaped Ronin’s lips as he leaned back against the headboard. The cake—though squashed and imperfect—lay between you both, a symbol of the night’s chaotic charm. You’d tried to make everything perfect, but it seemed you were always a step behind with Ronin, always stumbling, always flustered.
It was his birthday now, and you still couldn’t shake off the worry that you hadn’t quite done enough.
You sat across from him, hands shaking slightly as you tried to prepare the cake. "Ah... Well, here it is," you said, the corners of your mouth curling up nervously as you presented the nearly ruined cake. "I—I’m sorry it’s not perfect..."
Ronin, with that same signature smirk of his, peered at the cake before his eyes flicked to you. "Tch, you’re making that face again. No need to apologize." He let out a chuckle, leaning over and inspecting the cake as if it were something strange he’d never encountered before. "It’s fine. I’m gonna eat this one."
You blinked, taken aback. "You will?"
"Why not? It’s your hard work, right?" Ronin teased, then grabbed the box from the table. "Let’s see what you made for me."
You tried to suppress your smile as he leaned back on the bed, unceremoniously digging into the cake, licking the spilled cream from his fingers with a casualness that both startled and excited you.
"See? Not so bad after all," he muttered, flicking his eyes toward you. His eyes softened a bit—just a bit. "Don’t sweat it."
You nodded, relieved, though there was still a sense of nervousness running through your veins. "Actually... I have a present for you, too," you murmured, feeling the rush of embarrassment flush your face. You hadn’t expected to feel so vulnerable tonight, but Ronin had a way of making everything feel... amplified.
"A present?" Ronin arched a brow, his smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I’m listening."
You took a deep breath before reaching over and pulling out a small, carefully wrapped box. The ruby earrings inside glimmered softly under the dim light. "I... I noticed you always wear one in your right ear, so I thought this color would suit you."
Ronin’s gaze flicked over the gift, his expression unreadable at first. Then, with a brief chuckle, he responded, "Fitting for me... Hah. This gemstone’s bright red, just like your blood, after all."
You paused, stunned for a second. "W-What?"
He waved it off, his smirk never fading. "Kidding. It’s fine. The color... it’s fitting."
The words hit harder than you expected. "It’s passion," you added softly, your fingers brushing against the delicate box. "And pure love... something like that."
Ronin’s eyes softened, just a fraction, as he looked down at the earrings. "Passion, huh... Pure love..." He chuckled lightly, the sound soft but carrying that familiar edge. "Thanks."
You nodded, feeling a surge of warmth in your chest as the conversation shifted.
"Let’s just eat the cake already," Ronin muttered, clearly not in the mood for any more speeches. "I’ll probably regret this tomorrow, but tonight’s special."
You smiled as you picked up a fork, cutting a piece of the cake. "Alright, alright, let me just get you a piece."
As you handed him the piece of cake, Ronin leaned back and gave you an almost bored look, his eyes half-lidded. "Hmph. No offense, but eating it like this would be boring."
Your brow furrowed, confused for a second. "What do you mean?"
"Feed me," Ronin said, his voice almost mocking, though there was an unmistakable demand to it.
You blinked, your stomach flipping. "Eh!? No way!"
"Why not?" he said with a raised eyebrow, not even bothering to look at you directly. "You’ve been going on about listening to me, right? Well, now it’s time to put that into action. Don’t make me repeat myself."
You felt heat flood your cheeks, but before you could protest further, Ronin was already leaning forward, cutting a fresh piece of the cake for you.
"Here," he said, holding the cake up to your lips. "Open up."
You blinked, feeling your heart race as you stared at the piece of cake hovering just in front of your mouth. It was absurdly intimate, and yet, in some twisted way, it felt... natural. You could already feel the edge of Ronin's gaze on you, and there was no escaping that look.
You sighed, giving in. "Fine," you murmured, opening your mouth just enough for him to feed you.
As you took the bite, your heart pounded even faster. Ronin’s eyes never left you, his smirk returning in full force as you chewed the cake slowly.
"Good, huh?" he teased, his voice low and almost dangerous.
You nodded quickly, trying to suppress the nerves threatening to spill over. "Y-Yeah. It’s good."
Ronin watched you for a moment, amused by your flustered state. "Now it’s your turn," he said, his eyes glinting. "Feed me."
Your eyes widened. "No way! That’s—"
"Do it," he growled, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. "You said you’d listen, didn’t you?"
The command in his voice was unshakable, and despite your reluctance, you found yourself leaning forward, holding the cake between your fingers and lifting it to his lips.
"Alright, alright," you muttered, your face flushed with heat. "Ahn."
Ronin’s eyes gleamed as he leaned in, accepting the cake, his gaze sharp and possessive as he chewed slowly, savoring the moment. "There we go," he murmured. "Now we’re even."
You swallowed, trying to control your racing heart. It wasn’t the cake or even the birthday celebration anymore—it was something else entirely.
Ronin leaned back on the bed, wiping his mouth lazily with the back of his hand after finishing the last bite of the cake. A grin stretched across his face, almost too smug. "Heh. Is that all?" he teased, the tone in his voice making it clear he was enjoying every second of your flustered state.
You, however, had a different idea. Your smile widened with something darker, more playful. "Not quite," you said, standing up and brushing crumbs off your lap as you moved toward the door. "You see, I may have something else for you... something more... interesting."
Ronin’s eyebrows arched, clearly intrigued, though he didn’t rise from the bed just yet. "More?" he asked with a mix of amusement and suspicion.
You only gave him a sly grin before disappearing out the door, reappearing moments later with bags—bags upon bags, the weight of them evident as you dragged them behind you.
Ronin’s expression shifted. "What the hell is all this?" His voice held a note of both amusement and disbelief as you began pulling the bags one by one into the room. "You’ve got more of this stuff hidden in your basement?"
You nodded, smiling sweetly as you placed the first bag next to him. "Oh, there’s a lot more downstairs," you said casually. "I figured you’d like them."
Ronin’s eyes widened, his interest piqued. "A whole damn basement full of... what, presents?"
You shrugged, not bothering to give away all your secrets. "You can say that. I figured I should really get something special for you. You know, for all the things you’ve done."
Ronin just stared at you as you unloaded the contents of the first bag, his gaze narrowing as he saw the items in front of him. First, there was a beanie—black, perfectly styled, just like the one he always wore. He couldn’t help but smirk, though there was a slight confusion in his eyes.
"Nice," he muttered, running his fingers through it. "But, uh, I’m starting to wonder... how many damn bags do you have?"
You didn't answer right away. Instead, you continued pulling out more bags, each one filled with more extravagant, bizarre items: dark, emo clothes, studded jackets, chains, ripped jeans, and layers upon layers of black fabric that screamed both punk and chaos. Ronin looked at them, then back at you, eyes flicking with disbelief. "What... is all this?"
"And..." you said with a dramatic pause, pulling out something else, "your crowbar." You placed it next to him with a flourish, like it was the final piece of a grand display. "A new crowbar separately for your work, the one you’d want."
Ronin blinked, his gaze switching from the crowbar back to you. He was visibly taken aback, mouth slightly agape. "How the hell did you get all of this stuff, Y/N?"
You sat down beside him on the bed, your fingers lightly brushing against his as you gave him a sly, confident look. "Well... let’s just say I saved up all the tips you gave me."
His eyes widened further. "You—what? How long has this been going on?" He let out a low whistle, his disbelief turning into a mix of admiration and something close to shock. "I didn’t realize I was such a great tipper."
You shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "Hey, it’s fine. ." You leaned forward, your voice lowering as you added, "It’s just... the least I could do."
Ronin’s expression softened, though there was a tinge of something else in his eyes—something like warmth mixed with the confusion of being overwhelmed by your unexpected generosity.
He looked down at the piles of presents in front of him, the crowbar, the clothes, the beanie, everything carefully picked out and perfectly fitting for his twisted sense of style. After a long pause, his voice finally came, gruff but sincere. "Thank you," he muttered, meeting your eyes. "This... this is a lot. I didn’t expect... all this."
You smiled, your hand resting gently in his as you gave a soft squeeze. "It’s nothing, really. You’ve given me so much... I just wanted to give back." Your voice softened as you added, "I’ll always find a way, even if it means saving every penny for months."
Ronin took a deep breath, trying to suppress the emotions welling up in him. He shook his head, a rare, genuine smile breaking through his usual smug facade. "You’re insane,"
Ronin smirked, leaning back against the counter as you nervously brought the slice of cake closer. His plum-colored hair framed his face, and those sharp eyes of his glinted mischievously as he leaned in.
Now, He wants to shut up!
"Good, just like that, transfer it to my mouth…" he murmured, voice dripping with playful mockery.
Your cheeks flamed as you complied, but before you could even think of pulling back, Ronin’s lips grazed the fork—and your fingers, on purpose, of course.
"Mmm… Nn…" he mused exaggeratedly, his eyes gleaming with amusement as you fidgeted.
"Ronin! Seriously—!" you protested, pulling your hand back.
He leaned in closer, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "What? You’re blushing like crazy, darling. Was it that good?" He chuckled darkly. "Gotta say though… it was delicious."
You turned your head, already flustered, but his gaze pinned you in place.
"Wait, darling," he said casually, his voice dropping. "You’ve got some cream stuck on your mouth. Sit still. I’ll get it for you."
Before you could react, his thumb brushed over your lips, but instead of wiping it away, Ronin leaned in, his tongue darting out to taste the sweetness from your skin.
"Nn… Sweet," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk.
"Ronin! " you gasped, trying to squirm away, only for him to suddenly push you back against the counter.
"Ah—!"
"Damn…" he muttered, pinning you beneath him, his breath hot against your ear. "It’s your fault for moving, darling. You know better than to disobey me."
"Let me up—!" you stammered, your heartbeat thundering as he hovered over you.
"Not a chance." His voice was low and teasing, laced with a hint of danger. His eyes burned into yours, and his smirk widened. "Now that you’ve got me all riled up… how about I skip the cake and gobble you up instead, hmm?"
Before you could even muster a reply, he leaned in, sinking his teeth gently into the crook of your neck.
"Ah—!"
Ronin groaned softly against your skin, savoring every moment. "Damn, darling… The cake was good, but this…" He licked his lips as he pulled back slightly, his breath hitching. "Your sweetness puts that lovely apple crumble to shame."
You tried to catch your breath, your fingers gripping his arms weakly. "R-Ronin… the cake… your presents—"
He silenced you with a low chuckle, his face impossibly close. "I don’t care about the cake. And the gifts? Yeah, those are nice too, but they don’t compare to you, darling. You’re the best damn thing anyone could’ve given me."
"R-Ronin…"
He pressed another kiss to your neck, humming softly. "Never thought I’d give a damn about my birthday, but if this is what it’s like… I could get used to it."
You felt your resolve wavering, his words melting into you like honey. "T-Thank you for being born, Ronin…" you whispered. "I love you."
His movements stilled for a moment, his gaze locking with yours. "Say that again, I love you too." he demanded softly.
"I love you," you repeated, your voice trembling.
A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. "Good." He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a ghost of a kiss. "Now, darling…" His tone dropped dangerously. "Don’t think for a second I’ll ever let you leave my side. You’re mine. Forever. Got it?"
His hand clasped yours tightly as he murmured against your lips, "I’ll treasure you, darling—always."
Forever, indeed.
A dream, A shame, the last thing you remember is being.....hit by the same man, you found peace out.
Hey why..?
Was I that painful to you? Did I become boring to you?
Or Did you give me the peace I wanted..?
#ronin beaufort#ronin killer chat#ronin x reader#killer chat ronin#killer chat#killer chat x reader#killer chat ronin x reader#killer chat ronin x you#ronin beaufort x reader#kc ronin#visual novel#fanfic#killer chat angel#killer chat V#Misaki#Killer chat Misaki
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Yandere! Scarface Gojo x afab! Reader who's ovulating and speaks whatever the hell is on her mind.
You could care less about how you got locked up in this beautiful and very isolated cabin surrounded by hundreds of miles of forest trees. And how many times you tried to save your dignity by escaping your captor from hell.
All you could think about was the man in front of you who got into bed with you, shirtless and only in his boxers, getting comfortable. It was silent, and all you could do was.....stare at his.....[very gorgeous body that caught your eyes. But you'd never say that out loud. Or would you?]body.
.............Satoru will admit. It's silent! And you're never silent. He doesn't look at you, he gives it a second before you start calling him very mean names and how his love logic is the worst kind of logic ever and that he should let you go. But it never comes.
So he gives in and turns, a slight smile on his face. But it falters, very surprised.
You have this look on your face.
....he doesn't know what to think. It's so....raw....?
You're staring at him with this look of unfaltering love and trust and....what? Lust? It's almost creepy.
This is a face you only make in his dreams. He thinks back, unsure if he drugged you with something. But nothing comes up.
You haven't scooted away, you're just sitting there, completely turned to him and admiring him.
"Uh....." For once, he doesn't know what to say. "Is there something on my face?"
You actually, like, smile at his joke. Like full teeth and it's gorgeous. And he can't help but mirror your expression.
"That was funny. And yeah, obviously. You got some cute scars on your face. And body." Unashamed, you trail your eyes down to the rest of his body.
Um, woah? You haven't laughed at his jokes since September 20th. He scrunches his eyebrows, really thinking now.
Either this is a joke, or you're trying to find a way to escape again, or someone's holding you at gunpoint.
But he knows no one would find this location, and he'd find them before they would've found you so that's out of the question.
None of the other options matter anyways, he's too impatient to see what else you'd say to him. You got him riled up.
"Oh, yeah?" He sits up a little more, the blanket falls down his stomach, showing his pelvis and legs, intentionally.
You hum in agreement and take this as an offer to trail your gaze even lower. Satoru cocks his head to the side. "What's gotten into you? Tryna escape again, or???"
You look back at him and slowly shake your head. "No, I just.....you look good." You shrug and give him a look of honesty. He's never seen your face so expressive since June 7th(he has videos from before he met you).
(I got tired of writing in bullet format)
He nods and scans your face once more before a smile slowly makes its way back to his face. "You think I look good?" You nod again. "Tell me how." You look away, thinking about it. "I don't know. You, uhh......even though you didn't have any scars before and looked good then," Oh, did he now?? "Your scars make you seem....wiser and hotter, I guess." Your heart was about to pound out of your chest. But it felt so good finally telling him about these pent-up feelings you've had for a few days now. And it's getting harder to ignore the throbbing in your pussy, anyways.
Satoru nods like he understands exactly what you're talking about, his ego suffocating the room. "Oh, I'm glad you shared that with me, baby." He sighs dramatically. "It must've been so hard for you not to communicate that with me, hm? These past few days, I've been in and out of here." You nod, and he smiles. He looks back at you and points to his side. "Come sit closer to me, I wanna feel you. There's also this new movie I want to watch."
Satoru keeps his eyes on your every move, watching as you slowly crawl your way into his arms and melt into them. He doesn't know what the hell has gotten into you but he fucking loves it. Your left hand on his stomach and your face leaning into his chest. Your legs are starting to tangle with his. This is all he's ever wanted.
He can....feel your heartbeat. Fast and hard to control. He can feel....your relaxed body on his. Your body warmth shared with his. Your soft and squishy skin. He's sure you wouldn't mind his hand going under your shirt, right? He doesn't do it, though. He just listens to your raging heartbeat. But he acts like he's ignoring it as he blindly searches through the streaming channel. Suddenly, he hears your quiet voice. "Hm?" He asks, turning his head down to face you. You look up at him with those large, innocent doe eyes that make his cock twitch. "Can i....I just wanna..." the remote almost cracks in his hand as your soft lips press against his neck. So warm and foreign.
Yeah, you're never seeing your family again. You slowly and surely pepper kisses along his neck. His lips part as your hand trails down his stomach and you lean into him more to reach farther on his face. Behind the ear, on the ear, you're getting to his high cheekbone. Your leg is almost draped over his and his heart beats faster.
You make a sound of happiness as you kiss at his jawline, too. But then you stop and Satoru comes down from his happy place, face red and cock straining his pants. "Wh....why did you stop?" You see his face and look confused. "Huh?" He gives you a dirty glance. Animalistic and unrestrained. "Don't stop kissing me." Before you could act on what he said or even comprehend it, he took matters into his own hands.
He firmly grabs your chin and pulls you into a deep, emotion filled kiss. He shoves his tongue down your throat, emptying your mind in the process. You moan into the kiss, which makes him moan too, and you absentmindedly grind into his side, horny and so needy. Satoru wraps his arm around your side and gropes it like it's the only thing keeping him alive. It actually hurts, and you could care less. It makes you even wetter. You wanna take your shirt off. You wanna feel his skin on yours so bad. Your knee brushes against his hard on. Immediately understanding what it is, your eyes open, and you gasp, separating from the kiss.
You look down at it, sparkles in your eyes. It looks so big! You wonder if it can fit? Or if you can ride it? Would he even let you ride it before creampie-ing you first? "Can I help?" Spills out of your lips faster than you can think. You look back at Satoru, who's a thousand degrees in love. Who is he to disagree? "You can do whatever you want, baby. But first, I gotta taste you." You nod, and Satoru has never been a happier man. Hopefully you won't regret your decision in a few more days.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere character#yandere gojo#yandere gojo x reader#yandere satoru x reader#satoru#yandere satoru#jjk#yandere jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu satoru#the strongest#smut#reader#yandere jjk#yandere jjk x reader
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hii! im sending in a request for Jann in the Archie Mademay event :) and this is my first time so sorry im nervous😅!
but prompt 11 really piqued my interest, thought about maybe a (before gt academy) nerdy and shy gamer Jann x popular sporty reader? thank you for your time bye bye :] !!
𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒
pairing : jann mardenborough x reader
synopsis : you can't keep neither your mind off of jann nor your hands off of him either
disclaimers : not many, sub!jann, softdom!reader, kissing in public, pretty mild
note : i listened to the song sparks by coldplay while making this, so that's were i got the title, just so it doesn't seem as random lol
most people found it weird how much attention you showed jann. after all, he was close enough to a nobody.
man, society is weird.
all these unattainable standards set by messy, emotional, little humans. i mean, if you wanted to see jann, why should anyone try to stop you? you liked who you liked, and it's not like you could help it. besides, jann was sweet, cute, and ambitious. in your opinion, he was the dream guy.
you two would eat lunch together, walk each other to classes you had during the day, average college couple stuff. you never let anyone give him a hard time, and whenever you attended a social event, he was by your side (whether he wanted to be there or not). he attended all of your [sports] games, etc. the coupley stuff wasn't the weirdest part to people. the weirdest part to people was that you chose to do the coupley stuff with him. you had lines of guys and girls waiting, patiently. stalking and clinging, nagging and hanging--yet you chose him.
people talked, of course they did. negative or positive, they talked.
but over time, it got better. the jealousy never really subsided, but when the two of you walked through the halls, not as many people stared. and when you guys attended parties, not as many people ignored jann.
either way, you couldn't care less. you loved jann more than anything. nothing would change that.
you guys were sat a desk in the back of the library. quiet giggles and whispers could be heard. it was supposed to be a tutoring session, but it always turned out a different way. you always found him more interesting than algebra (or...calculus..?) and simply ended up making out. as jann explained the equation, your eyes lingered on him. you took in his facial features, admiring him not-so-subtly. he didn't notice until he looked over, and his eyes widened slightly. he smiled, before clearing his throat.
"so, do you understand? or do you need me to explain it better?" he asked, and you didn't answer. you didn't quite care, frankly. you weren't failing math, you had a 92%, which is borderline, but far from failing. so, it wasn't your biggest priority. in all honesty, you only kept up with these tutoring sessions to see him. you simply held his gaze, a look on your face he couldn't exactly read.
"were you even paying attention?" he asked, quirking a brow.
"no, not really."
"and by that you mean not at all, huh?" he asked, rhetorically. you nodded, with a small shrug. he laughed, before looking down. "so, uhm, what were you thinking about then?"
"three guesses," you said, smiling. you thought he had to have known by now, considering this is what you do every tutoring session.
"wha-Y/N, you know i'm not very good at this," he replied, cocking his head to the side in slight thought.
"oh cmon, it should be easy," you stated, with a playful eye roll. he lifted his hands up in defense.
"i really don't know," he said, and you couldn't help the laugh the emitted from you.
"gosh jann, you're smart, nerdy, but so incredibly dense."
"well then...just tell me. please?" he asked. and really, how could you say no to him? was it possible if you even wanted to? no. would you really ever want to? also no.
"i'm thinking about how cute you are. you and your perfect pink lips, how kissable they look, and your adorable curls--god, i'm thinking about you, jann. when am i ever not?" you say, leaning in closer as you speak your mind. he was slightly taken aback, before he leaned in as well. he didn't know what to say, so he didn't. he had this look in his eyes you knew all too well.
"can i...?" he queried, reluctantly. you grinned.
"you don't have to ask for a kiss, jann."
"right--sorry." you chuckled, before you kissed him. it was sweet, like honey. he was the one to pull away first.
"you know, you always do this," he said, with a head shake, but with an irresistible beam across his face.
"i know, just can't get enough of you," you said, kissing his cheek. you pecked his lips, nose, jaw, neck, everywhere you could. your hand cupped his face, and he seemed to lean into your touch. you went up for another kiss, which was a bit more feverish this time. your bodies felt hot, and you couldn't wait any longer. or...maybe you could, but you definitely didn't want to.
"let's go to my dorm, yeah?" you said, and he nodded eagerly.
goodness you loved that boy.
𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥
𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
#archie madekwe#dom reader#dom!reader#jann mardenborough#jann x reader#jann mardenborough x reader#request#archie mademay
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Bridgerton folks, you asked... There it is. Daddy!Colin in all his glory.
While I can't predict exactly where this fic is going to go (as I write on the spot) the premise in this case is that consent is assumed where not explicitly stated. Also, I'd like to be more psychological than physical, bit that's more for the characters to develop the story in the way it needs to be told. I'm merely a vessel.
Title is to be defined but I accept suggestions. Have fun!! 🥵 😈 🫠
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Second Episode | Third Episode | Fourth Episode | Fifth Episode | Sixth Episode
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"Why?"
Well, that was the crux of the problem.
Why did Pen asked her boyfriend and long time friend Colin Bridgerton to try "the daddy thing" as she presented it to him?
Knowing that honesty must be the requisite if this was going to turn into reality, she decided to go for total vulnerability.
"Because I need this. Because there is no one I love more than you and you're the only one with whom I can think of letting go like that."
That last bit got into Colin.
He want sure of the whole thing, but if it was something she needed, he would give it a try, for her.
"I'm willing to try. I have some research to do."
Pen smiled so bright for him that his knees almost dropped. Yeah, that was the right choice.
"Oh, I can do research for you," she offered him, but it wasn't the point of all of this for him to take care of her?
He got closer to her personal space. "Don't worry baby, I'll do my own research. If I think I need some help or some questions, I'll ask."
Pen melted in his arms - kissed him deeply and it was worth a try just for the way she hugged him after that talk, as if just talking about it made her feel better.
Thing is, the more Colin got into it, researching and reading, the more he wanted to try. He still wasnt so sure of "Daddy" was going to be cringe or hot, but the idea of Pen trusting him that much.. that was extremely erotic for him.
They talked a bit about it some more. They decided on a safe word "plant" and that he would call her "babygirl" when he wanted to start a scene.
Pen was being teased and she knew it. They talked and talked and talked with Colin. Everything was set up, they had a procedure for the aftercare (even if she doubt that she would go that deep on their first session) and now it was just a question of waiting. She was never good at waiting.
She didn't want to start this adventure with some brat behavior, but as the day passed it was clear that Colin was not waiting out of fear or insecurity.
He was waiting just to drive her mad.
Pen knew he would be good at it.
It was on the verge of begging him, when after a particular stressful night, she was close molaining with Colin about everything and it was madness how tired she was of even thinking, when she head him saying "come here, babygirl".
Holy fucking shit.
She turned to see him and he was on the sofa, his legs opened. A cushion on the floor.
Did she already said Holy fucking shit?
She moved towards him, knellingon the cushion without instructions. He seemed pleased at that.
"Such a good girl for me," as Colin tilted her chin to kiss her. She was already trembling.
"Unzip me and take me in your mouth."
She looked at him agape, as she could not believe what she was hearing. She took a moment too long to follow his instructions.
"Are you my good girl?"
At that she could only nod. "Then, do as I say."
She thought he was good. But Colin was shooting for the stars.
His entire demeanor was confident and sexy. He embodied security and she knew she was safe in his hands.
She had yet to move though. He looked at her with such intensity that her heart skipped a beat.
"Do not test me, babygirl"
And she shook her head. Pen didn't want to test him.
"Words, love."
"No, I don't want to test you"
"I don't want to test you..."
A lightbulb in her head.
"I don't want to test you, Daddy"
Tbc
#polin#bridgerton#bridgerton season 3#bridgerton s3#polin positivity#polin bridgerton#polin brainrot#daddy!colin is with us
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I Choose Her | Chp: 7
Hermione Granger x Slytherin Fem!Reader
Summary: You are the daughter of known death eaters from one of the richest and oldest wizarding family. Are you prepared to abandon everything you know for Hermione Granger?
Pairing: Hermione x Reader
Wordcount: 2.2k
Warnings: lots of angst, reader and hermione are soulmates actually
Note: Apologies for the wait, life has been kicking my ass but i finally found enough motivation to write this chapter and i think its a good one 👀 i actually had this chapter outlined even before i started this story so yeah i'm glad it's finally here! i hope you enjoy and let me know what you think :)
also thanks for all the love shown on this story so far i really do appreciate all of u <33
taglist: @gvrsto @aweidlich
(comment if u want to be added)
"Hermione."
You pleaded, she hasn't spoken a word to you in nearly half an hour.
"Baby, please. Say something. Look at me."
Silence.
Your girlfriend was sat at the edge of the bed, facing away from you.
"My love.." You make one final effort and relief overcomes you when Hermione finally turns around.
"Do you actually?"
Hermione blurts out and your eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"What?"
"Do you actually love me? Or am I just a way to past the time? You're abandoning me to serve the Dark Lord now that you have no longer have interest in me."
Deeply wounded at Hermione's accusation, you scoffed.
How could she think so little of you?
"That is not how it is and you know it. My feelings for you are true, Hermione. Everything I'm doing, I do for you."
It was her turn to scowl.
"What does that even mean? Please y/n explain to me exactly how becoming a death eater would work to my benefit." Hermione stands up, raising her voice.
She is understandably upset, losing your own temper would only do more harm.
You remained silent. Hermione's expression grows colder the longer you took to respond. You quickly stood, grabbing your wand. You could say the words 'i love you' a million times over and it still wouldn't suffice. Words aren't powerful enough to express the true contents of your heart.
You needed to show her.
Hermione watches you intently, her eyes welling up with tears, awaiting your next move.
"Expecto patronum."
You say, with a swift movement of your wand. A blue glow appears, circling the room before settling in between the two of you, the bright glow morphs into the shape of an otter.
A discovery you had made merely a few months after recognising your feelings for Hermione. Your own patronus had changed, mimicking hers.
The love you felt for her was true. The one thing you are entirely certain of.
Hermione is crying now, she doesn't attempt to hide her sobs. A sharp pain in your chest, you despised being the cause of her sadness.
You quickly made your way over, wrapping your arms around her. She knows now. You've surrendered yourself to her completely.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Hermione's voice trembling as she suppresses another sob.
"You are the only thing that matters to me."
You admit truthfully and you feel your girlfriend's grip on you tighten.
"My parents knew this. If I don't join the death eaters, they promised that harm will come to you. I can't have that."
Hermione takes a step back to meet your gaze and you release her from your embrace. You watch as realisation overcomes her, too overwhelmed to say anything in response.
You reached out, placing your hand against her cheek, wiping away the fresh tear.
Hermione leans into your touch and you continue to hold her face in your hand as you spoke again.
"I was never afraid before I met you."
Another tear falls and Hermione shuts her eyes, her face contorts as if your honesty physically wounded her.
Your girlfriend quickly leans in, crashing her lips against yours. You kiss her back deeply.
You craved to have her lips on yours forever. If only the two of you could stay in this moment together, without the impending threat of what's to come.
"I can't lose you."
Hermione says, after disconnecting the kiss. Her hands move to grip the collar of your shirt holding you close as if you'd dissipate right then and there if she didn't.
"You won't, I swear this to you. I need you to understand that my true loyalty, it lies with you. I have no faith in the dark lord."
Hermione's gaze softens, her hand moves to the back of your neck, she runs her fingers through your hair soothingly.
You will do everything in your power to preserve what you have, you want to feel her like this until the end of your days.
"What I'm about to tell you is going to sound insane but I need you to bare with me. I have a plan." Hermione's throws you a skeptical look.
Your girlfriend was never one to be easily convinced.
You take Hermione's hand, placing a soft kiss against it peering at her. A shameless attempt to sway her.
"Do you trust me?"
Your girlfriend is not budging.
An amused expression on your face, you lean forward placing a quick peck on the corner of her mouth. You tilt your head, planting several kisses against Hermione's neck, earning a giggle from her.
Her hands resting on your shoulders she shoves you lightly and you lean back, meeting her gaze.
Hermione looks at you in a way that makes your heart flutter. In moments like this you'd be foolish to question whether the feelings you have for her are reciprocated.
She reaches up, running her hand through your hair again.
"Ofcourse I trust you."
You were sat in the great hall, picking at your food. You felt too sick to eat. After sending the owl to your parents telling them about your decision to join the Death Eaters, you basically felt too sick to do anything.
Looking across the room you find your girlfriend engaging in conversation with Harry. She seems to have felt her eyes on you as she quickly catches you staring.
You nod at her as silent reassurance and she gives you one in return. Lifting your hand up slightly, you gestured to your ring. Hermione smiles before lifting up her own hand. The bond appears, stretching from her table to yours. The light only visible to the two of you.
Quickly biting your lip to hide a smirk.
"Good girl." You mouthed jokingly, watching as Hermione rolls her eyes at you. You swear you could see a hint of blush forming across her face.
Your moment of bliss was interrupted when someone harshly places their hand on your shoulder startling you.
Blaise chuckles at your reaction setting his plate of breakfast down next to you. Pansy sits to your right and Draco joins soon after, sitting across from you. He's now blocking your view of Hermione.
"So, when is your initiation?" Blaise asks as he shoves a piece of toast in his mouth.
"My parents will decide that. I should hear back from them soon." You reply before going back to fiddling with your food.
"This is great. Things are finally changing y/n, I can feel it. It's beginning. The dark lord will rise." Pansy states and you suppress the urge to vomit all over the table.
You shift your gaze and see Draco looking just as if not more miserable than you. Head resting in his hand, he makes no effort to acknowledge the conversation.
"You alright?" You ask, nudging his arm.
He merely nods, flashing you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.
"Just had trouble sleeping last night."
You grow more worried. You wish Draco would just talk to you.
"I know a spell that'll knock you right out. Next time you have trouble sleeping just come find me, I'll help you out."
You grimace at the obvious innuendo. Will she ever give it a rest?
"Right, thanks Pansy I appreciate that." Draco says blandly before picking at his own plate.
You watch as Pansy slumps in her seat, upset that she didn't get a bigger reaction out of him.
"Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom."
You stood up abruptly, making your way to the Slytherin common rooms instead. You couldn't be expected to pay attention in Divination at a time like this.
You had spent the entire day in the common room, napping for half the day, the other half was spent going over every detail of your plan in your head.
It was ideally the place to be as nobody ever hangs about during school hours. You'd also ignite less suspicion hanging around there instead of your room.
Although, you had to Obliviate the Prefect that threatened to report you to Snape. Attending classes was truly the last thing on your mind.
You glanced at the clock, 8 pm. Most students should be in the great hall finishing up their dinner. You decided to head up to your dorm, you needed a change of clothes before grabbing a quick bite. Truthfully, your only objective tonight is to see Hermione again.
Making your way down, you soon noticed the stairway was empty. It was past dinner time and it didn't make sense to you that nobody was walking the halls.
You soon hear commotion coming from outside the closer you got to the front of the castle.
Speedily walking out the doors you spotted a large group of people seeming to have gathered to look at something. You begin to hear sobs and recognised that people were crying. A sudden pit in your stomach, you pushed yourself through the crowd and braced yourself for what you were about to see.
You find Harry, leaning over as he cries over Dumbledore's body. Your breath catches in your throat. The headmaster is dead.
How did this happen?
Rapidly making your way further up to the front, you soon spot your girlfriend.
"Hermione." You say, settling behind her.
She turns to look at you, wasting no time she pulls you into a hug. You wrap your arms around her as you struggled to comprehend the situation.
"Where have you been?" She whispers as she removes her arms from the back of your neck.
"I'm sorry."
The only thing you could bare to say.
Hermione doesn't question you further, she stands next to you and leans her head against your shoulder.
You watched as Harry did the same to Ginny, crying as she held him. Your own hands quickly wrapped around Hermione's waist holding her close.
You looked up, spotting the dark mark in the sky. Pansy was right, the Dark Lord has risen.
This really did feel like the beginning of the end.
The notion only urged you to pull Hermione in closer.
Professor Mcgonagall lifts her wand in the air, casting the light spell.
Everybody soon followed, Hermione lifts her wand in the air and you do the same. The dark mark in the sky disappearing, engulfed by the lights being casted at it.
"Do you think Draco would've done it?"
You were stood behind a pillar at your girlfriend's request. Awaiting the right time to approach. She insisted on convincing Harry on your behalf, you knew better than to question her.
"No, he was lowering his wand. In the end it was Snape. It was always Snape." Harry states, venom in his voice at the mention of the Professor.
Hermione begins to read from a piece of parchment and you step forward to listen. Entirely forgetting that you were supposed to be hiding.
Stopped in your tracks as Harry and Ron stare daggers at you. The dark haired boy rushes over, before you could react he had you pinned against the wall, his wand at your throat.
"Stop! Harry, she had nothing to do with it!" You hear the panic in Hermione's voice.
"Why didn't you warn us? I'm sure you knew Malfoy wanted to kill Dumbledore but you didn't say anything!" Harry threatens, his wand pushing further into your neck. You wince at the pain but refused to break eye contact.
"I knew nothing. If I did I would've stopped him."
"Look, I don't have to stand here and convince you of anything."
You grabbed his hand attempting to pry it off you but he holds you firmly in place.
"She knows! She knows about the hocruxes. She can help us. Y/n has a plan she told me it herself. Just listen to what she has to say, Harry." Your girlfriend exclaims.
Harry looks at you for a confirmation and you only raise your eyebrows. Flitting your eyes down to his hand still grabbing your shirt.
"If you'd kindly unhand me Potter, I can tell you all about it."
Harry finally removes his wand and releases you from his grip. You reach your hand up, rubbing at your neck which is now sore.
The trio listened intently as you walked them through your entire plan. You'd essentially be helping them from the inside, it was dangerous but it was a risk you were willing to take.
All 3 of them stayed silent for a moment before Harry finally speaks.
"How do you know all this?"
"Let's just say my parents aren't exactly discreet." You simply respond.
The four of you fall into a silence again.
"How can we be sure that you'll remain loyal to us once you swear your allegiance to him?" Harry asks again, a fair question. You couldn't blame him for being skeptical.
"Yeah, why should we believe anything you say?" Ron adds.
You stared at him before answering.
"Because I'm your best shot at defeating him."
Ron is taken aback by your bluntless.
You shifted your gaze towards Hermione, taking her in as she was.
"And because I have too much to lose."
You admit earnestly.
Ron's expression shifts, though you did not recognise the look he is giving you. Perhaps it was empathy.
The ginger haired boy merely nods, before turning to look at Harry.
"Fine." The dark haired boy finally says.
You smirked knowingly. How much it pains the chosen one to turn to you for help.
"So we're in business." You quip, holding out your hand.
Harry shakes it in agreement.
#slytherin au#hermione x reader#hermione granger imagine#harry potter#harry x hermione#hermione granger x reader#hermione granger#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy#blaise x reader#pansy parkinson x reader
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YOU HAVE TO MAKE A PART 2 OF LOHAN MEETING THE X-MEN (maybe Logan and Wade end up joining so that Mary puppins can love in a mansion like she deserves or they don't whatever you want 😍)
so this turned into a lot of magneto and i didnt mean for it to but it just happened 💀 ill apologize again for the pacing, its not my strong suit, but please enjoy! 💕
Part 2 of Logan meets the X-Men!
It's been months now since Logan and Wade first showed up to the X-Mansion.
Logan wasn't sure why they kept going. In all honesty, Magneto really had Logan stressed out, and he was finding himself angry at Charles for keeping him around. He'd have to remind himself that, maybe this timelines Logan knew about this "partnership", and maybe he was okay with the arrangement, but the worst Wolverine was not.
...Unless he could be convinced otherwise, and Wade was trying his absolute hardest to get Logan on board. Dragging him along on trips to the school that Wade never used to make before, unless dragged there by Colossus, and if Logan didn't know any better he'd think Wade was trying to get Magnetos approval.
Doesn't he know how he can hurt me? Logan would think to himself, and Wade would just look at him and smile excitedly, unknowingly, excited to even be near one of his... Heros? Is that what Erik was to him? It left a sour taste in Logans mouth.
At some point during their visits, Logan couldn't exactly remember when it happened, they'd started joining the X-Men on missions. Just small ones, no giant robots or evil masterminds, just regular superhero joe things like stopping a robbery, or helping little old ladies across the street.
Not actually, it's just what it felt like to Wade.
The Wolverine had to admit, aside from the missions he defenitely didn't want to be apart of, but went along for Wades sake and to keep an eye on him, it's been nice. Seeing the faces of his old friends, who he'd once considered family and still mostly, but it was hard for him to not feel disconnected from the whole thing. The pair would only see the X-Men at least once a week for these missions, or if there wasn't one then just for a visit, on Wades behalf.
It was disorienting. Logan had told the merc that, one night in bed, Wades nose tucked into the crevice of a perfectly hairy and smelly armpit while a leg was tangeled between two muscular and equally as furry ones.
"What is?" Wade muttered sheepishly, unwilling to pull his face away from the comforting heat and smell of Logans body.
"This whole X-Men thing, bub. I don't like it. Goin' to the school, goin' on childrens missions. Comin' back home and havin' to dread goin' back every goddamn week. Doin' a quick mission, then coming back home to... This," meaning domestication. Without missing a beat, lifting his head enough to look Logan in the eye, he said,
"Why don't we just move in?"
And so they did. It was hard on everyone. Charles was kind, offered them a room, or seperate rooms, but Wade insisted on sharing. Logan was thankful. Wade had also talked a lot about Althea to Charles and Magneto, one of two acting as if he hadn't been listening to Wades ramblings all along but actually, it had been Erik who suggested moving Al into the school. Even Charles looked shocked, and Wade actually broke down crying because "he DOES care!"
And although the initial idea of moving into the school was Wades idea, the move had been the hardest on him. Wade and change did not mix well, uprooting all of his things and his way of living because, lets be honest, moving into the school meant Wade would have to be on his best behavior. Change certain aspects of himself, and that had Wade in a spiral of angry outbursts, which turned into a full on mental breakdown. Then he'd be manic, happy to "move out of this shithole" and "give our sweet, darling daughter (Mary Puppins) the life she deserves. That mansion is hers and no one can tell her otherwise."
After all was said and done, Logan and his new found family moved into the mansion, it... Actually did feel a little better.
Everyone loved Mary Puppins. She was disgusting, and putrid, but the students adored her. Snuck her treats or parts of their meals under the table, took her outside to the nice big yard for her to play. Wade always had an hawks eye on her but otherwise, she was loved and taken care of.
The teachers and some of the older students liked to gather around Althea to listen to her talk. She had a lot of stories, most ending in cocaine, but she managed to change the narrative to be a little more school friendly. Even Magneto would hang around, arms crossed and leaned against a wall, silent but always listening. He took a liking to Al, and sometimes Logan would see him guiding her through the large, winding halls, Al on his arm in a sly attempt to cop a feel, but their conversations sounded pleasant enough.
Logan didn't sense any ill intention, so he never kicked up a fuss. It also helped that Logan had walked in on Magneto one time before one of his classes, standing in front of the danger room. His cape was scooped up and tangled inside of the silky warmth had been miss Mary herself. She looked blissed out, gnarly tongue hung over the side of her maw and drooling all over him, eyes closed, Magneto whispering to her sweetly. As soon as he'd seen Logan he cleared his throat, stopped his sweet nothings, but never put Mary down until class had begun.
Logan ended up joining him for the class. They fought a good battle, their team (the students) had all worked well together, and afterwards Logan had met up with Wade and shoved him into their bedroom with a low growl, pumped full of adrenaline, and that's when Logan decided he really needed to be an X-Man again.
More months went on. Logan and Magneto, as it turns out, work really fucking well together. Logan had always let his old team use his body as a weapon, free to throw him where they needed to be, to claw and destroy, because he knew they still respected him as a person. But when Erik had suggested it the first time, Logan had been angry.
I knew there was an ulterior motive. He'll take control and destroy me, hurt me, and that will be it.
But Wade, bloodied and panting from battle, urged Logan to just let him do it. That Erik had given them no reason to not trust him, and Logan trusted Wade most, so he reluctantly agreed.
And it became a thing. A really useful thing, actually, and after every battle Magneto and Logan would look at each other, chests heaving and something powerful glimmering in their eyes with understanding. Wade would have been jealous if he wasn't always on the receiving end of Logans "affections", his way of relaxing after a good fight, to come down from the high of a victory.
For genuinely probably the first time since Wade and Logan had come around, Wade leaned over the counter in the kitchen in a pair of Wolverine boxers and an oversized flannel (courtesy of his honey badger) while munching groggily on a piece of toast, Magneto spoke to him.
"Mister Wilson, I- Oh. Please, put some clothes on." Wade looked down at himself with a bare, arched brow, then back at Magneto who just shook his head.
"Anyway," he drawled slowly, eyes averted from Wades body. "I want to... Thank you, for bringing Logan back to us. For being here with him. Having not only one, but two, nearly immortal-"
"I'm gonna stop you right there, tall, dark and intense. Don't you dare thank us for being your weapons, especially not Logan." Magneto shut his mouth, and Wade stood up straight, discarding his toast to the napkin he'd been using as a plate.
"He isn't your weapon. You better not even dare think of him that way, because no matter how much I want to climb inside of you," Erik made a disgusted face. "I won't hesistate to kill you for using him. We're here for him, not for me, not for you, or any of these losers.
"I know he needed this. To be an X-Man again, because it's what he knows. He's good at helping people, at killing, being a fucking animal. He deserves to have this, to let loose, and a team that loves him, but that's what this is- a team. Not 'let's throw Logan like a six point dart at our target and be done with him.' He feels a lot of guilt from his world that he just can't let go of. If you want to thank anyone, thank him, because it really was hell to get him here and I know it's taking a toll on that gorgeous head of his more and more everyday that he has to be around the people he feels he abandonded and got killed."
Wade left it at that with a sickingly sweet kiss to Eriks cheek, toast long forgotten on the counter as he left to find Logan, suddenly needing to hold his princess in his arms and tell him that everything would be alright.
Magneto stood in silence, stunned, took in every word Wade had said and flipped it over again and again in his brain, trying to make sense of it all, and when he finally did he nodded to himself with a new type of vigor.
He'd thank Logan, later. And Wade too, for real this time. Maybe he had been a tad insensitive, and if Logan noticed he hadn't said anything. Maybe Wade was just observant. But the Wolverine was just as much a team member as the rest of them, a part of their family, and Wade too. Not just weapons to use at their disposal just because they couldn't really die. If Erik wanted to gain their trust- Logans trust, to have him fully accept him as one of their own and understand his intentions were nothing but good, that he was trying so hard to be good, he'd just have to try harder.
And for Charles, Magneto was willing to do whatever it takes.
#worst wolverine#logan howlett#deadpool#wade wilson#deadpool and wolverine#cherik#charles xavier#erik lehnsherr#professor x#magneto#blind al#mary puppins#x men
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Just wanted to let you know that I've been binge reading all of your writings and I love them so much, keep up the good work! :)
I know you might have a lot of Gus requests, so it's okay if you put this one on the back burner for a bit. But I read the "Not So Scary After All" work and I was wondering if you could write a sort of sequel to it?
Maybe Jesse keeps trying to tell GN reader how obvious it is that he likes them. How he's seen him try not to smile when talking to reader, the softer tone of voice, things like that.
Reader obviously doesn't believe him and thinks that Gus is just being nice to his employees, especially the ones that are responsible for the cooks.
Anyways, after a few days of Jesse pestering the reader about it something happens to make them realize he might be right. I was thinking maybe they would make another mistake with the cook and Walter is there to see it. Maybe he gets mad, a little TOO mad, and Gus walks in 🤭 Or anything else works too! I just love the premise of a protective Gus that doesn't like to show how protective he actually is
First of all, thank you for the comment about my writings, I'm glad you have enjoyed them so far! Initially I didn't think about writing a part two, so I hope this does it justice, as well as that I hope it was what you were looking for!
Thank you for sending this in!
Not so scary after all. 2/2
Pairing: Gustavo x gender neutral reader.
Other appearances: Jesse Pinkman, Walter White.
Warnings: arguing, walter being a douche.
also be aware of spelling mistakes, or other errors. I do read these over but I can tend to miss stuff either way!
A/N: my brain has been fixated on other characters recently, so if these guys seem ooc then that may be why. It's hard to write scenes where gustavo is interested in another person because we barely get to see that in either show, so I also hope my portrayal of him just generally feels correct.
I hope you enjoy!
more Gustavo fics.
Taglist- @sukunamybeloved - @viviennemuerte - @miwagila - @marksassybanana
previous part.
It never mattered how many times you had gone through the same routine. Surprisingly, considering your line of work, waking up in the morning was always the most jarring part.
You could’ve had a great nights sleep, not woken up at any point, had no distractions or noisy neighbours. Yet the second you were in that car to get to the laundromat, it was like you had to force your eyes to stay open.
Which was apparently the same for Jesse too as there was a series of mumbles and grumbles that would fill the car every few seconds.
Each time you spared a glance to the passenger seat he would be leant further and further into window, his head bobbing whenever there was a difference in ground level or direction of the wheels.
It had you amused, but also a little concerned, “Did you wake up too early, or too late?”
Seeking no comfort from the hardness of the glass, and after his temple ended up smacking right into it, Jesse got himself to sit upright in a speed that closely resembled one of those stairlifts.
He groaned, having to make consistent attempts to keep his body from just slumping all together, “Both?” His hands raised to his head, the sides of his fingers beginning to rub at his eyes as if it would rid them of their tiredness.
In all honesty, outside of the cooking sessions and other shenanigans you found yourself in, you and Jesse never really... hung out. There would be times where you had lunch together, or had to show up to his house if there was something to drop off.
But that was mostly it.
And there wasn’t exactly a reason as to why. You had absolutely nothing against Pinkman, it was like the opposite. The more you spent time with him, the more you felt like some kind of guardian watching over some kid. Even if he also was an adult.
“You had breakfast, though, right?” Your gaze was trained on the lane ahead despite your ongoing conversation.
You had just turned onto a state road, meaning that, regardless of it being early in the morning, people were up and about. Trying to get to their jobs.
It always made it seem busier than it was.
At first, in response to your question, Jesse simply emitted another mumble of something. He was thinking, the intensity in which he rubbed at his eyes increasing for a moment, and then his hands dropped. “Oh,”
“Shit, I don’t... I don’t know.”
You supressed the urge to sigh. It had already happened a few times. Depending on what he did the night before, there would be some mornings where his mind was rattled enough that he would almost forget where he even was, so.
You came prepared.
“Well, I guess luck is on your side today.” you commented, flexing your fingers against the grips of the steering wheel, “There should be a sandwich or something in the back.”
By now Jesse’s head was leaning into the headrest, definitely having the same problem of trying to keep his eyes open like you did. The heat outside probably wasn’t a helpful factor either. “Seriously?”
You didn’t want to take your attention off of the road. The cars in front were starting to slow, and you needed to keep note of the distance from the ones at the back. “Check.” you told him, adjusting the rear view mirror for better visibility.
Jesse sort of rolled his head to the side after a moment, his chin almost knocking into the bone of his shoulder as his gaze cast onto the few items that were in the back seats.
He lazily blinked for a good few seconds, his eyes trying to adjust to the redirection of a sunlight beam. And then he saw it. Right in the middle.
A brown bag.
“No way.”
The next move he made was so fast that the seatbelt strapped around him had immediately stalled against his body, attempting to keep him in place at the assumption of sudden danger.
But that wasn’t enough to stop him at all.
He pushed against it once, then twice, and then one more time before simply manoeuvring himself around the belt so that the top half would basically be protecting the car seat instead of him.
When Jesse leaned himself between your seat and his, it was so much harder to keep your attention on the road. He was reaching out, arm extended as far as it could go and waving almost madly, until eventually, he grabbed the bag.
Jesse practically had to shove himself backwards to sit upright again, but soon he was able to resume his previous position with a big sigh of relief. Your head could only shake.
Now, there was this sound a rustling paper that filled the entire car as you moved onto the accompanying lane. Something that was definitely not supporting your concentration. “Damn.”
His voice was muffled, the noises coming out of his mouth barely even sounding like a word which in turn made you send him a look.
He had finally gotten to the sandwich. “You make this?”
“Nah, I had too many errands to run.” you informed with a slight sigh, finally beginning to let yourself relax in your seat, “Would’ve done it if I had the time, but I think that is better anyway.”
Jesse didn’t even have to speak for you to know his response. He had taken another bite, nodding his head just slightly in proper approval. If his eyes were closed it would look like he was in pure bliss.
After relentlessly chewing for a hot minute, he attempted to swallow it down, “I didn’t-- I didn’t take you as an early riser.” Yet his voice was still almost unintelligible.
“Well, believe it or not, other people are in fact active in the mornings.” you pointed out, slightly leaning to the side for further emphasis on who the comment was aimed at in a way that had Jesse rolling his eyes.
You swear you saw a clump of crumbs fly from his mouth when he next spoke, “Yeah, yeah-- You sure your too many errands wasn’t just you making sure that you looked good for a certain Fring?”
Your head snapped in his direction in a way that had looking back to the road immediately after, and probably almost gave you whiplash. But you saw it either way.
That damn grin had taken over his lips.
Again.
“Please don’t do this right now.”
Jesse had to clear his throat to stop himself from almost choking, “Aw come on, man, it’s-- There’s nothing to be ashamed of if you did.” Your head shook like it had done before, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
It was always so stupid to you how the indirect mention of someone made your body react the way it did. You were only trying to get to work, yet your heart was acting as if you had just gone for a run.
“But I do.” The look you sent Jesse almost had him wanting to put his hands up if he wasn’t so focused on his sandwich, “What? I do-- Look, I may not have that much experience, or whatever, but there is totally something going on.”
“Definitely on his end at least.” He moved the sandwich around in his hands, trying to locate the best part to bite as he had finally swallowed the last one, “I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve seen him give you the look.”
Your eyebrows furrowed within seconds, “The... The what now?” You tried to turn in his direction for confirmation, but he seemed a bit too busy to notice your movement.
Due to a junction being up ahead, your foot had moved onto the foot break, watching the lights fully change the closer you drew.
“The look.” Jesse finally repeated, his mouth full all over again in a way that needed real concentration to understand the words coming out of it, “Yeah, he gives you the look, like, all the time.”
Soon, the car in front of you had fully stopped, and then so did yours as you put it into first gear, keeping your feet on the first two pedals.
The moment the car had stopped moving, you turned to Jesse within seconds, eyebrows furrowed more than they had ever been. “What is the look?”
Pinkman gave you a simple glance at first, thinking that you were just messing around as he kept munching away... But no matter how much time went by, you didn't move. Still watching him.
His chewing slowed when his head turned back in your direction. He just blinked for a moment. “You don’t know... You don’t know what the look is?”
Your chin lowered, your eyelids slightly doing the same, “Does it sound like I know what it is?”
“Okay, but... how?” Despite Jesse’s previous complete interest in his sandwich, it lowered with his hands to his lap. There was utter confusion written all over his face while he remained smacking away. “How do you not-- How old are you?”
Your attention went to the road ahead all over again, the back of your head sinking into the headrest as a huff left your lips, “Older than you.” you pointed out, trying to sound more authoritative, but that just seemed to spark an already lit flame.
“Then how do you not see it, huh? I mean, even I can tell that it’s pretty obvious-- And not just because of the look either,” Jesse fully twisted in his seat so that he faced you, “He like... He wants to actually, like, talk to you, and shit-- I’ve seen him smile-- genuinely smile at you, okay?"
“Now, if he was doing it to me? I would... Man, I would be terrified-- But it’s you, it’s... different.” You were trying so hard not to shake your head again, but Jesse’s voice practically being right in your right ear was making it a lot more difficult. “It’s something else--”
“It’s not...” You regripped the steering wheel, “You do realise we’re talking Gustavo Fring, right?” Your head attempted to turn back to Jesse, though your eyes were trying to keep the attention on the road as one of the final vehicles seemed to cross through the junction.
“Exactly!” Jesse practically threw his arms up, almost losing his grasp on the sandwich in the process, “You should be caring about this more than you do.”
Your head shook as your gaze fully went back to the road, your foot readying to release the clutch while your fingers tapped against the steering wheel in anticipation.
You were trying to find something to zone in on, something to distract yourself from the kid sitting in your passenger seat as he was still eagerly trying to get you to see the things the way he did. But you weren’t giving it to him.
“Fine then.” Jesse reached behind him, grabbing the top half of the seatbelt, pulling it until it was in front of him again, before he ducked himself beneath.
“But I’m telling you, Y/n.” It was back, slinging diagonally across his torso by the time he was seated properly, and also by the time the lights had finally turned green.
“You’ll see.”
~
There was something about this day that was starting to feel a little familiar.
You and Jesse had arrived ages ago. You had gone down the windy red stairs, did the whole thing of taking off unnecessary clothing so that you wouldn’t completely boil in the obnoxiously yellow protective suit you would put on next.
And at first, once you were all geared up, the two of you stood in front of the machines. Your heads were raised, eyes cast up to the walkway above as you awaited the arrival of your usual partner at their usual time...
But the door never opened.
There was no proper estimate for how long the two of you just stayed waiting as you had set your watch to the side, and the clock was on the other side of the room, however, there was one thing you knew for sure. Someone was late.
Eventually, the two of you were trying to compensate, finding something useful to do while giving the benefit of the doubt that maybe it was just tough traffic or something going on that made them lose track of time.
Though, the ability to sympathise got smaller and smaller the more minutes began to turn into full on hours.
You found yourself at your usual table with your hand supporting the weight of your head, attempting to occupy your mind by looking over the paperwork from passed cooks. A habit that you only recently developed.
“Dude,” you heard somewhere to your side before there was an exasperated sigh, and a quick creaking of a chair, “What the hell is taking him so long?”
Earlier, Jesse had taken one of the other wheeled chairs from the table connected to yours and had rolled somewhere, enough so that you could only see him from the corner of your eye.
His body was slumped back, the seat beneath him creaking with every move that he made. And considering that he didn’t have anything to do, that was like every. Single. Second.
He had tried out the difference created when he would shift his weight, tested what it would feel like to have his legs hanging over the left side of the chair and then the right, he had pushed his feet onto the floor to roll himself backwards and forwards against the smooth tiles.
And now, as apparently none of that had seemed to have settle his mind, Jesse had resorted to zipping and unzipping the protective suit he was so ready to take off by now. Over, and over... And over again. “Okay,”
“That’s it.”
The pencil held in your gasp was cast to the side of the notepad, you were barely looking at this point, before your hands moved to the edge of the table so that you could push against it enough that your chair started to roll.
You stood up, winding round the seat that was still on the move as you began to walk towards one of the pathways between the machines. Jesse fully planted his feet on the ground, “Yo, Y/n, where are you going?”
Your fingers grasped onto the zip of your suit and you yanked it down as far as you could without having to bend for the rest, beginning to pulling your arms out one after the other moments after.
You moved round that damn settling tank and soon ended up at the wall where you would keep or hang up your loose items. “I...” you began, your voice becoming strained as you bent down to free your feet of those big welly boots, “am going to find out what the hell is going on.”
The squeak of a chair echoed somewhere to the back of the room. “Well, don’t-- Don’t leave me in here by myself.”
Finally, after one last tussle, your, once worn, protective suit was now sprawled on the ground beside the clothing rack. You moved to your usual shoes, putting either feet in their respective ware before tying the laces to make sure they wouldn’t fall off.
Before Jesse could even appear by your side to complete the same process, you were on the move once again, directing towards those windy red stairs that always made you feel like you were going to fall up and/or down them.
“Y/n, wait, dude, wait-- Just give me a minute.” You could hear the hurried rustling of plastic suit echoing through the steps you took on the metal staircase.
Eventually, when your movements had allowed you to arrive at the cat walk, you found yourself complying to Jesse’s words... While the man himself was still trying, and failing, to get the suit off.
It gave you a moment to catch a breath you hadn’t been able to take all day. You were stood high, looking down at the problems below, and not drowning neck deep in it like you usually did.
A deep breath sucked into your nostrils as you let your eyes fall closed, the air of the lab starting to cool the warmth that had festered across your skin--
A sharp whistle squealed through from your left before it bounced around each wall one after the other.
Your eyes had snapped open as soon as the sound appeared, but it wasn’t until your head had started to turn that your brain realised what it had come from.
It was the door.
Your body twisted in the direction of the man who was almost stumbling across the cat walk, a series of huffs and puffs spluttering from his mouth that would have you worrying any other day.
But as of now, all you did was cross your arms over your chest.
“Yo, Mr. White! What the hell took you so long, dude?”
“Sorry, sorry,” he began through a slight wheeze that ended with him doing this horrendous cough. And once he was about three steps in front of you, he stilled his apparently over exhausted body, using a hand to shift his weight onto the railing, “There was... car trouble, and stuff with the kids, you-- you know kids.”
“You would think, maybe, after the first one that it was going to get easier and then...”
In the midst of Mr. White stabilising himself, his head had turned to the right in at attempt to locate Jesse, which wasn’t hard to do considering the fact that he was still taking off that damn suit, to further emphasis his... guilt?
But instead, after he did a sort of double take, he began to slowly face you once again, “Why aren’t any of the machines on, why... Why aren’t you wearing your suit?”
“We were waiting for you. I was just about to try and find at least someone to tell us where you were.”
“Wait... Wait a minute,” Mr. White started, holding his hands up while he took a step closer. “You didn’t start?” His chin slightly lowered in a way that made his eyes peer at you over his glasses.
“No?” you stated simply, your eyebrows furrowing at the sudden change to his demeanour, “After last time... We didn’t think you wanted us to do it by ourselves.”
“But that was-- That was last time, Y/n.” With every word that the man spoke, his hands rose higher and higher until they were inches away from touching his face, “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?”
The urge to scoff was stronger than ever, and you had to hold it back more than you ever had in your life, “I think I should be asking you that question.”
The man before you began shaking his head in a way that was almost not visible. “I told you... I was having problems with my car.” For a moment his expression remained the way it was, a visible attempt at holding back what you were guessing was anger.
But then it failed.
“I have... a family to take care of...” His hands dropped to his sides. When he next spoke the corners of his mouth slightly downturned like there was utter distaste for the words coming out of his mouth, “They are not going to be put at expense because, again, you weren’t able to do a simple job.”
Regardless of how loud it usually was when someone walked up the windy stairs, right now, as Jesse began to do just that, it was barely audible to your ears. The sound fading more and more the longer you stared at the man before you. “Guys, can we just--”
“I am doing my job just fine, Mr. White.” you started up with this lack of emotion to your voice, trying to make it as clear as possible that you wanted to get this over and done with, “We just didn’t want to do another batch all by ourselves, simply, because you couldn’t be bothered to show up.” Though it seemed your mouth had other plans.
There was something that almost satisfactory when you saw a side of his face twitch. But soon, it was one that ended with this sort of smile curling at his lips, his eyebrows raising more than you had ever seen in your time working with him. “Oh.”
“So, you want me to apologise for making a singular mistake? Is that it?” He took yet another step towards you, “You know what, how about we count how many times you have made-- No, caused, a mistake, hmm?”
You couldn’t count the amount of voices that were telling you to take a step back, to move away the closer he got to stand directly in front of you, “But that wasn’t only my fault-- There’s a big difference between actually trying and just not showing up.”
Your feet remained planted on the ground beneath. Your arms were held tighter than ever across your torso as you tried to maintain the blankest expression possible.
“Dude, both of you just... just chill out, please.” Jesse tried to insist as he walked up the last few steps, but no one paid any attention to his words, “We can-- We can work this out--”
“You allowed a contamination,” Mr. White began, narrowing his eyes as if in disbelief, “How did you-- Did they not teach you to read, or listen, to instructions in school?”
“My education has nothing to do with this.” you insisted without missing a beat. And regardless of your attempts to keep your composure, it was inevitable that something began slipping into your voice.
You had been up early.
You had been running back and forth to make sure that certain things were sorted for certain people, had to drive all the way to downtown to pick up Jesse and then all the way back up to get here. To work.
And then, while at work, you weren’t even able do your damn job because your other partner, that was supposed to be there at a specific time by contract, just didn’t show up.
Which then lead you and Jesse to have to stand and do absolute jack shit for hours on end.
Walter just shook his head again, even raising his hands like he was about to shove you or something, though he might have wanted to simply point a finger, “Well, apparently it does, because if you still aren’t competent enough to follow something so basic, then--”
“What is going on here?”
Within the next second, the man in front of you had twisted round in a way that almost gave you whiplash just from watching. He stepped to the side, and moved backwards until he was practically next to you. “Oh, Gus, I, uh... We were just... Slow start.”
But, of course, he was still a little ahead.
Your feet, however, hadn’t moved an inch. In fact the only move you made was to let your arms finally fall free to your sides as you stared onwards.
It was Gustavo. He was stood in the doorframe, one hand pressing against the weighted metal so that he had enough time to take in his surroundings. And then he took the final step inside.
It was only when the door closed behind him that you realised you hadn’t even heard it open in the first place.
The lab was back to what it had been minutes ago. Silent. No sound at all filtering throughout the entire room.
Gustavo stilled himself not far from the door he had walked through, but enough so that you could feel his presence as well as see it. His arms were unmoving by his sides, a trait that would’ve carried out through his entire body if he hadn’t started moving his head.
Like Walter had done when he arrived, Gustavo looked at the room below. He studied it, looked from one section to the other while noting the quietness that was effecting even him.
And then he turned back to the people across from him, the expression on his face unwavering, “Why is that? There’s nothing in the machines.”
“You know, ex-- exactly.” the man to your side suddenly spoke up, snapping your attention from the other guy you wanted to look at a little longer. “I had... countless problems with a lot of things this morning, and I wasn’t able to arrive on time.”
Walter sort of took a step forward, but instead of what you would naturally think of when someone carried out such a movement, he didn’t properly face Gustavo.
He stood side on, his body turned towards the machines so he could look at you or his boss with a simple movement of his head. And as of now, you seemed to be his main target. “Apparently they couldn’t be bothered to start the batch themselves.”
“That’s not true.” You mirrored his stance, faced directly towards him, instead of the man who was just trying to seek answers, as your eyebrows furrowed as much as they could.
Walter tilted his head, “You sure?” he asked, using the most condescending voice that would of set you off had you already lost the grasp on your, slowly dissipating, self control.
“Yes, I don’t understand--” Your hand rose to your face, fingers pressing into the skin beneath before dragging down to your chin. And then they dropped. You took in a deep breath. “Look... I admit it, sure, we could have started the cook. But.”
“Me and Jesse both thought it was smarter to wait after the previous mistake,” you began, emphasising your point by gesturing to the dude who was now stood behind, and his eyes sort of widened at the sudden attention.
This time it was you who took the step forward. “But yet again,” You made sure to hold yourself back from blinking as you stared right at the man who was trying so hard not to cut you off, your fists clenched at your sides. “You. Weren’t. Here.”
Your heart was thudding in your ears, a sound louder than any other thing in the room. The exhaustion was rampant through your body, continuously attacking system, and at this point testing your patience that had already become thin.
The ability to control anything was about one minute away from collapsing.
“Why were you late, Mr. White?”
When Gustavo’s voice caught your ears, you hadn’t even bothered to look his way despite the fact that Walter did. In fact, he took the chance to move away from you, which almost made him bump into the other railing.
“Car troubles, and, uh... family stuff, too, you know... all that.” he informed, his voice and the look of his face switching into one that you could instantly tell was the fakest attempt of trying to get sympathy.
“And you didn’t inform anyone of these... troubles?”
Your head turned in about a second, your gaze snapping to the man who hadn’t moved a singular inch since the last time you properly saw him. His attention was only on Walter, his eyes now slightly narrowed.
“What...” Mr. White started, the shock clear within his voice and the expression on his face, “Are you... Are you trying to say that this is my fault?”
“I am not saying anything, Mr. White.” Gustavo’s turned in the mans direction with such slowness that had a look of regret taking over anything else that was threatening to appear on Walters face. And once he stilled, he had even slightly tilted it to the side, “I am simply asking questions to understand why a job hasn’t been completed.”
Walter let out this sort of scoff of a sound as he gestured with his hands like before, “Well, then your asking the wrong person, Gus.”
He pointed towards you, this time not even bothering to look unless it was to make sure his finger was actually aimed in your direction, “They... They have been here for who knows how long, I... I-- I mean, the batch could’ve finished by now, if they just--”
“You are putting the blame... on them?” Gustavo’s voice was low, deep in pitch that it was almost gravelly and harsh to any ears that heard it. There was no direct tone, or emotion clear within it. But paired with the slow step forward, anyone could tell that it wasn’t good.
“You are putting the blame on a person who was actively trying to solve a problem that you created... because you weren’t competent enough to make a phone call?”
You were use to his intimidation tactics. In all honesty, usually, it seemed even more affective when he wasn’t using them, like when he wore that smile that never really reached his eyes.
But this...
This was different.
When Gustavo wanted to intimidate someone, or remind them of their place in the bigger picture. He had relationships to maintain, an act to keep up so that nothing could expose him and/or his business, so he never risked insulting a person in case it would backfire, create unnecessary problems.
Gustavo Fring wasn’t a man who directly insulted someone unless he was going to gain something from it... Well, apparently, until now.
For the next few seconds it seemed that Mr. White couldn’t find the exact reaction he had. His lips twitched almost every way that they could, his mouth would open and close again and again like he was mimicking a fish, all the while his head began to shake once again, “I don’t... I don’t know what to say-- I can’t... Gus, I just--”
“I have heard all I needed.” There were no movements that accompanied his words. No change to his voice a part from a mild show of a tested patience. Gustavo just stared at the man before him, unblinking, “You still have plenty time to cook.”
“You can’t be serious--”
“That’s what you came here to do... Is it not?” Gustavo pointed out simply, his head tilting to the side in a way that almost made him look like a puppy. But his face said all that it needed to.
Walter sort of cowered, avoiding the mans gaze as he took a moment to think, “I... I-- Well... Yes, but--”
In about a second, though there was almost nothing displayed on Gustavo’s face, everything sort of... dropped? His eyelids lowered in a way that wasn’t enough to hide his eyes but it was still visible, his jaw unclenched, his lips almost looked like they were turning down the way.
But again. Not once did he blink.
“Then cook.”
For a solid ten seconds, there was just utter silence. Someone could have drop a pin on the other side of the room, and it would still echo like any other sound. No one moved. No one twitched. No one spoke.
Walter took in a deep breath, his shoulders deflating when it made its way back out. And then he turned, beginning to do just as Gustavo said this time without any argument.
But the moment you started to do to the same thing--
“Not you.”
You froze. Your body hadn’t even managed to twist yet, so after sending a look to Jesse who sent one right back, you simply rocked back on your feet, resuming the same position you were in before.
His eyes were only on yours. The first time he had fully looked at you since he had entered the room.
“We have... other matters to discuss.”
~
After you left the room, it was practically silent when you began to walk.
There was the usual sounds that occurred from the machines within the laundromat, and the workers who you were still not sure knew about the giant meth lab beneath there feet, but between you and Gustavo there was nothing.
No exchange of words and barely even the sound of your own footsteps.
He was a few steps ahead of you, which may have been one of the main reasons, as he lead you across the paths that had big machines towering over you on each side.
There would be a few moments were you had to duck, or even completely manoeuvre, around certain objects that were hung, either needing to dry or they were connected to a moving system that would bring clothes from one section to another.
You had no idea where you were going. The second the two of you had officially exited the lab, his lips had became sealed. He just started walking, and of course, you only had one response to that.
Your gaze pretty much remained on Gustavo’s back no matter how far you went, only fleeting to make sure that you weren’t going to bump into anything, as you followed the man in front of you like a lost duckling... Though, you felt more like a child getting ready to be told off.
Eventually, after stopping yourself from getting caught up in the thoughts swirling through your mind, you found yourself walking out of the big vertical door. The entrance of the laundromat.
If your heart wasn’t pounding before it sure was now. And no matter how badly you wanted to just focus on the feeling of fresh air after being stuck in an underground room for what felt like, and probably was, about five hours... Gustavo stopped walking.
He was stood at the edge of the paved platform, hands moving to clasp behind his back as he resumed that usual straight posture.
Your steps grew slower the more close you got to standing by his side. You wanted to gage his mood, predict what was about to happen or what he was going to say, which was a bit difficult considering that you could only see the back of his head.
You cleared your throat when you had arrived to the right of him. Your eyes were slightly narrowed, adjusting to the sudden presence of the sun, while you gently leaned back and forth on your feet.
“Sir, I... I’m really sorry about this... Again,” you had begun, but almost immediately your speech planned in your head seemed to have fallen apart.
You turned your head to the side, trying to properly convey your apology through your face more than your words. “I know it doesn’t help the business, but I really, really, don’t know why this keeps happening--”
“Y/n.”
You had already been looking at Gustavo throughout your words. And maybe it was because you were too caught up in your mind, or because originally the man before you had been gazing into the distance with the usual expression that barely gave you anything to work with.
But now he was looking right back at you.
“Yes?” you answered subconsciously in a way that had your mouth snapping shut immediately after realising that you didn’t need to actually do that.
This time, Gustavo’s chin lowered, “I’m not going to scold you, Y/n.” His gaze was the most gentle you had ever seen it, along with sound of his voice. He may have said the words simply, and matter of factly, but his face told you otherwise.
You sort of just stood there for a moment, blinking at him. “You... You’re...” And then your eyebrows furrowed all over again, your body turning so that you faced him directly, “You’re not?”
Gustavo kept looking at you, and finally, since thatsituation with Mr. White, you weren’t presented with an expression of judgement. It wasn’t a look that visibly told that they thought whatever they were seeing was utter stupidity.
He took in a breath, letting his eyes fall back on the busy town ahead for a split second, before they were back on your own, “I want you to go home.”
His voice was lighter, the expression on his face no longer holding the tension that had clung to his skin.
Your lips parted, even if no sound initially came out. You stared back at him for a moment, your eyes a little wider than they were before, almost unblinking, “Did I mess up that badly?”
Gustavo’s eyebrows furrowed so quickly that you hadn’t caught onto it until he turned his body in your direction, “Forgive my phrasing.” he started, his hands remaining behind his back no matter the change of position, “This is not a punishment.”
With his next words, Gustavo made sure that you were looking at him, right into his eyes, just in case his meaning was conveyed through his voice, “You are not in trouble for the wrongdoings of another man.”
... Were you missing something? Why would Gustavo take you out of the lab?
I mean, sure, you made the deduction that not starting the batch might’ve not been such a great idea, and honestly at some point expected to get a good talking too because of it. Maybe it would be the final straw...
But here you were. Theman himself, the big boss, stood right in front of you. Directly telling you that you’re not in trouble.
“Then... I’m going to have to say that I don’t understand, Sir.” The muscles beneath your brows were getting a good work out from consistently changing between being normal and then furrowed within, practically, every thirty seconds, “We still have a batch to do, a deadline to follow.”
Influenced yet again by a man stood before you, “And who is that for?”
Your whole body felt like it wanted to deflate, fall limp and just collapse on the ground. This time it wasn’t in anger, or fear, or annoyance. It was because after everything, you could exhale the nerves that had clung to your insides. There was no use for them now.
You lightly nodded your head, the fact of not being in trouble officially processing in a way that had your gaze lowering, “... You.”
Gustavo wanted to smile. He wanted to display his pride of finally cracking the code that was your mind, having created even a bit of equal understanding, but he could still see the ghost of the previous expression that held your face hostage. The genuine concern over possible harming his business.
And him.
“I am not asking you to leave because I think that you are bad at your job, or that you don’t do anything for this business-- Because that would be entirely wrong.” he started up with this new voice that was difficult to ignore, “I am simply saying that you have the day off.”
“It is... normal in a workplace, is it not?”
By the time your eyes met Gustavo’s, your brows had furrowed once again, though now, it was for a very different reason, “I mean... Yes-- But not in this business, just...”
There was a huff of air that passed through your lips. Theexhaustion from earlier was presenting itself back into your system, making the want to talk become a lot less than before, “Let me-- Let me go back in there, we can work, we can... we can get it done.”
Gustavo’s head began shaking before you had even finished your sentence, “I can’t do that.”
“And why not?” you questioned, leaning back slightly so that you could fully take in his demeaner, analyse any look that took over his face, “I thought you said that I didn’t do anything wrong?”
“You didn’t.” he insisted almost immediately, the expression he wore going blank the way it usually did. But now wasn’t the time. “Then...” You took in yet another breath to cut off your words, trying to suppress the urges to sigh, scoff, or the sudden want to raise your voice, “Why?”
To say this day felt long was truly an understatement. Things just kept happening one after the other and still you were left in the dark. No answer as to why things progressed into the situations they had.
“Y/n, I am not... risking the loss of more time to arguing.” It was like you could visibly see the words he chose to say. The pure caution, decisions careful enough so that he wouldn’t set off the things he could see getting ready in your eyes, “I know that if you go back in there, Mr. White will not... let go. Not unless I place someone in there to stand and watch at all times.”
“All I am telling you is that you are free to go while I... sort things out.” Gustavo somehow made himself stand taller, trying to prove the confidence in which was already heard in his voice and to also prepare for the possibility of you finally reacting in the way that your body had wanted to for hours.
But despite what he had envisioned playing out, or tried to predict, it was pretty much the opposite. In fact, the only proper reaction to his words was your shoulders deflating, ridding your muscles of its constant worry.
And then you crossed your arms over your chest, sniffing as you did so, “And what about Jesse... Mr. White? What-- What about them?” you questioned, waiting for the words to settle before you looked back into those other pair of eyes, only to find that the look from earlier had repossessed his face, “It may not seem like it, but I assure you, Y/n.”
“Mr. Pinkman and Mr. White can handle it themselves.”
For the first time throughout the entire day, you felt the want to smile. “Okay then.” You nodded your head once, your grip tightening on your arms as you took a step backwards, “Thank you, uh... Mr. Fring. It seems you have saved me again.”
“Gus. Call me Gus, and please, there is no need to thank me.” Gustavo started up before you could even try to turn in the direction of your car, “It comes under being an employee.”
Your body stilled after about one more steps backwards, your eyes narrowing at the man before you, playfully, “Then how come I haven’t heard you getting protective when someone else makes a mistake?”
Gustavo mirrored the look on your face, “I wasn’t... I wasn’t being... protective?” In his case, however, he wasn’t doing it in a teasing sort of manner, he was just genuinely confused at the comment. “I simply understood the situation and acted accordingly.”
Your arms loosened in your hold until they lowered to your sides once again, “And yet you defended me.” If you were close enough to Gustavo you would probably have started circling him, “Even though I was in the wrong... both times.”
Gustavo unfurrowed his brows, “You weren’t in the wrong just because some man has an incorrect idea of authority… and a very poor concept of time.” His tone was the flattest you had ever heard it. There was no emotion behind it until the words of... slight insult.
The urge to smile grew stronger that had you pressing your lips together to stop yourself from letting out a laugh. “Still,” Though, after a moment, you managed to compose yourself, “If you hadn’t arrived when you did...”
Gustavo huffed air through his nose, bowing his head a tad before he let it shake a few times. When he looked back up it was clear that he was trying to hold back whatever was wanting to take over his face, but you could see it in his eyes.
“Go home.”
There was this feeling of giddiness begging to erupt in your chest. It spread a warmth to every part of your body until it was a collective feeling. It caught you of guard, causing the smile you were trying to hide begin to curl at your lips.
So, after a sharp breath and a nod as a thanks, you sort of ducked away, twisting yourself around so that you could make your way towards your car.
However, the nearer that you got to the vehicle, it seemed there was a thought pushing itself further and further to the centre of your mind. It may have been more of a feeling, as you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted to go back to your house.
I mean, sure, being able to take a nice long shower, grab a bite to eat, and completely flop on your bed sounded... Well, pretty nice actually.
But the next session for a batch was now going to be days away.
Days from your work and a certain Fring.
You had completely stilled about a step away from your car. There was a quiet breath that huffed through your nose, one that only you could hear, “You know what, actually.”and then you turned on your heel, the concrete practically scuffing under your shoe. “I’ve worked for you for quite some time now, and yet…”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been inside your restaurant.”
The man your eyes managed to focus on seemed to be closer than he was the last time you saw him. A fact that made your brain almost completely miss the words that came out of his mouth. “Well, it’s not an obligation.”
There was something about the look on his face. Something about the way he pressed his lips together immediately after he finished speaking. He may have assured that the visit wasn’t needed, but... there might have still been a want.
“What hours is it open?” you asked, the sound of your voice almost echoing through the parking area, even if the noises from the active laundromat were louder.
Gustavo’s head slightly rose after a moment, one of his brows slightly twitching as he processed your question. And then he cleared his throat, “That would depend on the day.” he informed, readjusting the hands he still held behind his back.
You hummed in response, letting your gaze fall into the distance as you thought.
Honestly, after the past few hours you could barely remember what part of the week you were in right now. So, instead, you thought back to what a usual week would look like.
What was the day that was perfectly set between the times you would possibly be able to see Gustavo at work? Right in the middle?
“How about Thursday?” you suggested, now watching as Gustavo began to make his way across the concrete, slightly nodding his head, “Then... Seven to ten, I believe.”
“All right,” you breathed out, the speed in which your heart beat increased the more the man approached. “One less lunch to plan for the week.” You practically gulped as you reached backwards, fingers patting against the cool metal of the vehicle for a moment until they located the handle.
Gustavo stilled himself about three steps in front of you, the look on his face signalling that he was thinking about something as he wasn’t making direct eye contact, “Actually... I would suggest to come around dinner time.”
Just as you were about to tug on the handle, your hand froze, along with pretty much every other part of your body.
The man was now looking right at you, his voice sort of timid in a way that caught you even more off guard. And apparently himself too. “It’s... more quiet.” He cleared his throat, “Less people around.”
Your arm slowly moved back to your side, releasing the warm handle from any sort of grasp.
There was a fight going on in your chest. A want to give into the urge of running away like you would’ve done in a situation close to this as a kid. But you weren’t a child anymore, far from it.
It took a good moment for any sound to be able to roll off of your tongue. And as soon as something eventually had, it was like your lungs remembered how to properly function. “Will you be there?”
You felt younger. The two of you may have been stood pretty much right in front of the other, yet neither of you could maintain eye contact longer than a few seconds before you collectively had to look away, no matter how confident either one of you tried to seem.
Gustavo cleared his throat, though it sounded like it had barely done anything. “I believe so.” he finally confirmed, and regardless of the fact that his voice was still quiet, there was this tone that took over his words.
“Well, good...” That giddy feeling returned, even if it had probably never left. “I think I probably would still go if you weren’t there, but... it would be a lot less... fun.”
The man before you let the slightest smile curl at a side of his mouth, “Well, we wouldn’t want that now would we?” He sounded more breathy this time, a natural progression from his already quiet voice. But it wasn’t because of nerves, or a reaction of his lungs, which you had initially thought. It was intentional.
“Not at all.” Your voice in question was more full than his, however, there was this slight whisper to it, as if Gustavo should be the only person allowed to hear it.
“Then it’s settled,” he began, slightly lowering his head in away that had your back pressing into your car. His normal tone had seeped back through his words like he was back in boss mode. But not quite Gustavo Fring just yet. “How does... eight o’clock sound? Unless you eat earlier?”
Your head shook practically without a second of hesitance. The ability to move your lips was barely thereso you resorted to moving to the side, finally pulling on the handle of your car door until it swung out far enough that you could stand behind it.
You could see Gustavo raise his eyebrows just the slightest as the door had created a sort of separation, and it had you biting back a grin. “It’s perfect.” you insisted, trying to sound as neutral as possible despite the, possibly, clear ways you felt at that moment.
And then you lowered yourself into the car, having to slightly shifted backwards a little bit to properly get into the drivers seat before you swung your legs inside.
Your hand grasped the inside of your door, your fingers making certain that they had a good grip, before your eyes landed on the figure through the glass of the window that hadn’t moved an inch.
And then you smiled.
“Gus.”
#gustavo fring#gus fring#gustavo fring x reader#breaking bad x reader#breaking bad#brba#gender neutral reader
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