#he was a good guy besides those 2 things
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does no one ever wonder about like the children and family members of sinners? like i do A LOT
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#i love husk x wife#even alastor x wife for when he was alive#add vox to that too#but like what if they meet in hell like damn bro what did you do to come down here too?#that's why i like to headcanon that progressively as you spend time in hell if you don't actively try to keep your memory and write down#or find people from your past you'll just end up as a new person in hell#or maybe you have faint memories only#that's why Sunnie exists :) to have that layer of angst#i might draw one of her friends#idk about my sona yet#her friend reincarnated as a bear :D he is down in hell because he was the one who was drunk driving and tbf he also sold drugs as well#he was a good guy besides those 2 things#lemme add that to a separate post#hh thoughts
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Does Jiro has ghost like abilities (possession, ability to levitate things, etc etc) or does she just live in Shiro's head?
when i created this au, i thought the best option would be for her to be unable to interact with the physical world in any way(including possesion), beacuse i really wanted to lean into her isolation and how it affects her....... and while thats something i still want to emphasise here, lately ive been toying with the idea of jiro being able to impact the physical world somehow(though it still being fairly limited). i think letting her have some control could have a lot of potential! buuuut i also have no idea what abilities i want her to have lol
For now i think im not gonna give her any telekinetic abilities, bc i feel like it would be giving her too much power......... if she could throw shit, shed go APESHIT with it. it would made things too easy for her. i'm sorry babygirl but i'm NOT giving you the possibilty to throw knives and other sharp objects, i dont trust you to not kill someone:/
i really like the idea of her being able to temporarily posses her old body in certain circumstances tho- maybe when shiros uncouncious?? or like when hes is very tired or heavily injured she can kind of 'squeeze through' and take control back for a few minutes???? idk. i think this could be a very cool ability to give her- it cant be frequently used but can also be very helpful, and also theres so much potential for ✨shenanigans✨here>:) oh god i could put these fuckers in so many Situations with this..........
uhhh. so basically i think all of her influence on the physical world are through shiro. shes here bc of her connection to her old body, and thus its the only way for her to interact with anyone besides him- and shes NOT HAPPY about this(neither is shiro).
#ask#thank you for this ask!! it made me think more in depth about jiros abilities and come up with this so thanks<33333#if you have any ideas pls share them with me cause im still not really 100% set on everything lol#also im making a new tag for this au ->#two disasters au#bc. theres two of them.. and theyre both Mentally Unwell#also im gonna use this ask as an excuse to ramble about jiros motivation and character a bit-#okay. so i feel like the most importrant things about jiro are her tunnel vision and self-rightiousness#she gets really focused on one thing at a time and then fixates on it so much that she doesnt see how her behavior affects others#so when she gets evicted from her own body her first reaction isnt 'oh god this is such a messed up and dehumanizing thing to do to your#friend. what the FUCK guys'#its instead 'oh COME ON how am i supposed to be the black paladin without a physical body??? what the FUCK guys'#and bc deep down she KNOWS that if she ever stopped and thought about her situation for like 5 seconds shed just fuckin BREAK. so. she#doesnt do that.#and bc her self worth hinges on being the black paladin#she is really protective of tha title and tries her hardest to make sure shiro knows just how much better at paladin-ing she is than him#and that he wouldnt be able to keep the role without her help#she doesnt have any sense of personhood besides her job and so she clings to it desperately#the same applies to her gender#when jiro gets a new body(did i mention that???? i feel like i forgot to mention that. whoopsie???) he#(sometimes im gonna use he/him for jiro for when im showing things from a certain characters perspective cause thats what pronouns#she was using at the time)(if thats not okay i can stop tho) was trying very hard to pretend that hes just Shiro No. 2 and nothing more#to kinda 'make things easier for everyone' and bc he could FEEL the gender crisis approaching and was just. dead set on ignoring it and#hoping those feelings would go away(spoiler- they very much didnt. it just made things so so much Worse)#so anyway. basically jiro is a person obsesed with being Good Enough and respected but also lacks the experience patience and foresight#wnich results in her ignoring everyone and everything else to focus on doing her job Correctly#does this makes sense?? im still figuring shit out with her but thats what ive got rn
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GOJO SATORU: HUNGRY FOR MORE
✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!gojo x detective!reader: fucking the serial killer you're supposed to be arresting might be the best (or worst) decision you've ever made. PART 2 | NSFW
contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, public sex (in an alley), p –> v, orgasm denial, fingering, he cums inside, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, lil' bit of dumbification, hair pulling, squirting, dirty talk, manipulation/coercion, mentions of murder (he's a serial killer what did u expect), non-sexual mentions/usage of guns, probably more. 3K words.
author's note: wrote this instead of writing my research paper and studying for my math final. if this flops i will actually become the serial killer /j. anywaysss tagging @satoruhour @screampied @satorena.. and yes, the "season 2 coming soon" in the banner means something ;)
“looks like your little killing spree’s gonna have to come to an end,” you muse, crossing your arms and cocking an eyebrow at the man across from you. he grins back at you, and it’s almost unsettling—he looks a little too smug for a killer who’s just been caught.
“i don’t think so, sweetheart,” the man responds dryly, leaning back against the alley wall, features relaxed and at ease. he—satoru gojo—has been your target for a couple weeks, and now that you’ve finally cornered him, you find yourself feeling a little… unfulfilled. usually, when you caught criminals, they begged for mercy and showed a little more emotion than what satoru’s shown so far.
also, the criminals usually weren’t this good-looking.
you maintain eye contact with satoru while you carefully reach into your coat’s pocket, withdrawing your phone and unlocking it. unexpectedly, satoru doesn’t make any move to stop you from dialing the number to your boss, instead smiling coyly as you do so.
“so, you’re one of those guys who don’t care what happens to them?” you ask, tilting your head as you hold the phone to your ear. satoru shrugs and his grin only widens the longer your phone rings. ten seconds pass before your phone tells you that the number you dialed is currently busy, and satoru’s muffled laughter becomes unbearably suspicious. you narrow your eyes and involuntarily take a step back. “what’s with the smile?”
satoru scoffs and dips his head, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step towards you. “y’know, you’re rather brave, comin’ out to catch a serial killer all by yourself. and in the middle of the night, too.” he stops advancing when he sees you pull a gun out of your pocket and hold it up threateningly, a look of warning in your eyes. “okay, okay, relax. i’m not gonna do anything to your pretty face.”
“what did you do?” you ask suspiciously. satoru widens his eyes in mock disbelief, as if he’s completely and utterly shocked that you’d ever accuse him of anything.
“besides the fifteen separate counts of murder? not much, really.”
“i’m not an idiot,” you snap, cocking the gun and aiming it at his head. “you’re not the one in control here, satoru gojo. spit it out before i put a bullet through your skull.”
satoru laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. “fiesty, aren’t we? it’s alright, i like my girls with a little fire in them.” he tilts his head to the side and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on parts of you that suddenly make you feel naked, despite the coat covering most of your figure. “put down the gun, sweetheart, then we can talk.”
you wait a second, scanning satoru’s overly relaxed face before cautiously lowering the gun. “what are you hiding?” you ask again, eyes hardening.
“a lot of things. but i think you’re talking about what i did to your boss, right?”
“you have five seconds before i shoot you.”
satoru makes a face and then rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, since you’re bein’ so pushy about it. i killed him, obviously. you’re a smart girl, shouldn’t you have figured that out by now?” when you don’t immediately answer, satoru sighs and shakes his head. “and here i thought that the girl who’d been tailing me for the past week would have a little sense in that pretty head of hers. looks like i was wrong.”
“shut it,” you snap again, re-dialing the number and letting your phone ring for fifteen seconds. when nobody picks up, you internally curse and think about what to do next. dialing 911 would be worth a try, but the look in satoru’s ice-blue eyes makes you think otherwise. despite the gun in your hand, something about him makes you entirely certain that he could overpower you, even if you landed a shot on him. and even if you just shot him right now, he’s been shown in the past to be able to function fine with a bullet through his chest. that’s how two of your subordinates lost their lives to him—by underestimating your city’s notorious killer.
so you decide to bide your time.
“ran out of options?” satoru asks smugly. he raises an eyebrow when you slide your phone back into your pocket and exhales a laugh. “you gonna wait for a big, strong man to rescue you? ‘cause i’m right here, honey, and i could be your savior.”
“that was actually the shittiest line i’ve ever heard,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at the self-satisfied look on his face. “are you seriously proud of that one?”
“well, it worked.”
he pushes himself off the alley wall and towards you so fast that you hardly even have time to process it, and before you know it, you’re the one pressed to a wall with a gun to the side of your head. satoru’s other hand grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head, and his face is close enough to the point where you can feel his breath—which is unexpectedly minty—on your cheeks as he grins down at you. “you really think i’d use a line as shitty as that if i didn’t know it’d make you lower your guard? tch, you really shoulda known better.”
you use every curse word you’ve ever heard in that moment and grit your teeth, rapidly thinking through all the possible ways you could get out of this situation, but nothing comes to mind. you’re quite literally stuck in between a rock and a hard place, with a gun pressed to your head and with your limbs out of commission.
satoru clicks his tongue and widens his eyes at you, leaning in closer. his lips are uncomfortably close to your own as he traces the gun down the side of your face, cold metal brushing against your heated skin. “not gonna fight back? that’s no fun.”
“the fuck you want me to do?” you snap irritably, glaring up at him and curling your hands into fists. satoru tightens his grip on your wrists and cooes a sarcastic apology to you, taking his time looking you up and down again. if you didn’t value your life, you probably would’ve said worse, but seeing as you were the only person in this ridiculously isolated alley, it wouldn’t be worth much.
“i dunno. didn’t that detective academy or whatever teach you anything?”
you roll your eyes again, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you consider the possibility of your eyes getting permanently stuck in the back of your head just because of him. “y’know, you’re not giving me a whole lot of options.”
satoru laughs. “if i did, that’d defeat the whole purpose, wouldn’t it?”
at this point, death would be preferable to hearing his idiot talk any longer.
“so, i’m gonna be the one asking the questions from now on,” satoru continues, clicking his tongue disapprovingly when you scowl. “if you behave, i won’t hurt you that badly, ‘kay? keep that in mind.”
“thought you liked your girls feisty.”
“oh, that’s true,” satoru muses thoughtfully. “yeah, never mind, you can be a little bratty. i need a reason to fuck you stupid anyways,” he grins after a moment of consideration.
“what the fuck?”
“you heard me, sweetheart,” satoru cooes, feeling his pants tighten as he watches your eyes widen. your “tough” demeanor drops for a split second, and satoru can’t help but want to fuck it off again when it returns. your scowl deepens and you frantically think through all your options again, but there isn’t a whole lot you can do at this point.
“if you wanna stay alive, you’ll be a good girl and you won’t scream,” satoru murmurs, leaning in closer and pressing his lips to yours. you grit your teeth and try to shove him away with your shoulder, but it doesn’t do much. satoru smiles against your lips and hums softly, pulling away with an almost affectionate look on his face. it’s so at odds with who he is and what he’s done that you drop your guard again, wanting to believe that he really will keep his promise not to hurt you.
satoru sees the shift in your features and smiles tenderly, all traces of his borderline-sadistic look gone. he studies your face for a moment and kisses the corner of your mouth, letting his lips linger for a second before he pulls away again. “i’m gonna let your hands go now, m’kay?” when he drops your wrists, they fall limply on his shoulders as you warily study him, eyes wide with confusion. it’s jarring, the way he just… changed personalities within the span of a couple seconds. “i’m not gonna hurt you, pretty,” he breathes, dropping the gun and letting it fall to the floor with a loud thwak. “this’ll be a lot more fun for me if you don’t resist, yeah?”
oh, fuck it.
“okay,” you murmur, ignoring every siren going off in your head. you don’t really have any other options, and honestly, nobody was going to walk by and get you out of this sticky situation anytime soon. and satoru was pretty attractive… and you could just arrest him afterwards, right?
as if he read your mind, satoru smiles and promises, “you can handcuff me after i’m done with you. just let me have a little fun one last time, baby.”
yeah, it’d be a stupid decision to believe the sweet-talker towering over you. there’s no way he’s just going to let you drag him off to jail, but there’s a reason he’s stayed out of the grasp of the law for so long. it’s hard to live a life as on-the-edge as being a serial killer, but the reason satoru’s survived for this long is because he knows how to use his words. he knows how to make a person go against every warning in their head, and he knows how to get what he wants.
which, for tonight, includes you.
“you have thirty—no, twenty minutes,” you mumble, knowing damn well that this would be the end of your career as a detective. whether or not you dragged satoru in after all this, you could never continue your work knowing you had sex with the biggest serial killer in the city.
satoru laughs and kisses you again, lips trailing down your face and settling on your neck. “haven’t i already made it clear that i’m the one in control here?” he muses as he slips his hands under your coat and tugs it off. it falls to the cold ground and bunches up around your feet, leaving you in a button-up shirt and flowy, dark pants. “c’mon, let’s get these clothes off you.”
within a minute, the rest of your clothes save for a black lacy pair of undergarments join your coat on the floor, and the chilly nighttime air nips at your skin. “i’m cold,” you mumble, feeling yourself involuntarily tense up everywhere but where satoru’s hands cloak your skin. satoru laughs in response and presses his knee to the spot in between your thighs, and something in you snaps at the point of contact.
“you really are an idiot, aren’t ya,” satoru scoffs, hand sliding down to your waist. his fingers latch on the waistband of your panties and he tugs them down, exposing your already-wet pussy to the cold evening air and his eyes. “lettin’ a serial killer fuck you in a dark alley… what kind of detective does that?” satoru spits on two of his fingers and slips them inside you, instantly groaning when he feels you clench around him. “fuck, you gotta be the tightest pussy i’ve felt in a while,” he mutters, white hair falling into his eyes as he looks down shamelessly. “do you not have sex with other guys?”
“don’t have time,” you swallow what would’ve been an embarrassingly loud moan as his fingers go deeper and deeper. how long are this man’s fucking fingers?
“aw, look at you, you’re so cute,” satoru cooes, smiling down at your scrunched up face. you look back at him through squinted eyes, hips starting to roll against his fingers. it’s true—you really haven’t had time to have sex given your already-insane schedule. it’s almost like you spent more time tracking the man who’s now knuckle-deep inside you than sleeping, but the slutty part of your head tells you that it paid off.
“‘m gonna cum,” you whine pitifully, squirming around satoru’s fingers as he curls them inwards, making you clench around him even tighter. a shiver runs over your body, starting from in between your thighs and spreading all over you as satoru’s fingers move back and forth inside your soaking wet cunt. “g-gojo—”
“call me satoru, baby, and you’re not cumming until i say you can.” with that, satoru withdraws his fingers from your pussy with a pop! and grins at the way you glare at him sullenly. he mockingly pouts and licks his drenched fingers clean, tongue lapping up your essence. “heh, don’t worry, i’ll make you cum more than you knew you could once you’re stuffed with my cock.”
although you’ve determined satoru’s “promises” to be dubious at best, he fufills this one after he’s spread your legs wide open and positioned his cock at your entrance. “this might hurt, baby, but remember, no screaming.” after you nod in acknowledgement, satoru slips his tip in and watches, amused, as you try to close your legs on reflex. “uh uh, keep ‘em nice and wide f’me,” satoru tuts disapprovingly.
and true to his word, it hurts—a dull ache spreads throughout your legs as his dick goes farther and farther inside you, reaching places you hadn’t felt in a long time. satoru’s hands settle somewhere on your waist as he pushes himself deeper, ignoring your gasps and pleas for him to slow down a little. your shaky hands move to his hair and you unwittingly pull on it, somehow eliciting a soft groan from satoru’s lips, and somewhere in the back of your mind you think that of course a serial killer has a hair pulling kink—it just makes sense.
“s-satoru, it won’t fit,” you whisper, feeling satoru hit an especially tight spot in your cunt. even with how wet you are, it just feels like you can’t possibly take any more of him—he might as well be ten feet inside you, given the pain in your hips. but, as expected, satoru only smiles tauntingly down at you and murmurs words of encouragement as he somehow pushes past the barrier and gets all the way in amid your pained whimpers.
“yeah, that’s it, knew you could do it,” satoru says sweetly, voice coated with poisonous honey. now that he’s all the way in, the ache from your waist down starts to fade into pleasure, especially as satoru starts moving himself in and out to get you used to the feeling of his dick. “just like that, pretty girl. jus’ like that.”
soon enough, he sets an unexpectedly harsh pace that makes your back arch off the cold, brick wall behind you, and even as satoru tries to keep up his “cool serial killer” act, you can hear his quivering breaths as he gets close to cumming. “shit, i forgot how fuckin’ good it felt to fuck a cunt this tight—” he mutters through gritted teeth. “‘m gonna cum inside, ‘kay?”
you nod breathlessly, chasing your own pleasure and not actually listening to the words satoru murmurs in your ear. at this point, it didn’t matter—all your pathetic little head could think about was satoru’s dick, and somehow, you forget that he’s a killer when he cums inside you. it’s hot and thick and it almost knocks you over—when was the last time you felt this good, if ever?
the coil in your stomach snaps and you cum with him, nodding along to satoru’s praises on how well you’re taking him. you squirt all over his painfully hard dick and suck in a sharp breath as you do so, body trembling from the force of both of your orgasms.
“see, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” satoru murmurs when you both come down from your highs, stroking your hair almost tenderly. you bob your head in response, face warm and eyes unable to properly focus. he stuffs his fingers back inside your puffy cunt and scoops the cum dripping down your thighs back inside, mumbling something about not letting a single drop go to waste. “who knew the pretty detective i’d had my eye on would be this good to me?” he cooes, grinning snarkily.
satoru’s earlier promise floats through your head and you force yourself to look him in the eye. “y-you said you’d let me arrest you after,” you breathe, back still pressed to the wall as satoru surveys you amusedly.
“oh, sweetheart, you’re in no condition to be giving orders,” satoru says condescendingly, pulling up his pants and grinning at you. his cheeks are still flushed red, but whether that’s from the cold nighttime air or from the heated sex, you don’t quite know. “we should do this again sometime,” he continues conversationally as he picks up your coat for you. despite the fact that you’re still naked and trembling, satoru drapes your coat around your shoulders and helps you button it up.
“but you said—” you protest, but satoru cuts you off with a raised eyebrow.
“you didn’t seriously believe me, did you?” satoru tuts, shaking his head. “i’m a serial killer. i’m not gonna turn myself in just ‘cause of a detective’s pretty pussy, baby. you should’ve known better, doll.” satoru wraps an arm around your limp shoulders and tugs you in for a kiss, lips pressing firmly against your own for a couple seconds before he pulls away with a satisfied smile.
he leaves you with a promise to see you soon.
#osaemu#gojo smut#jjk smut#satoru gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x y/n#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#satoru gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x y/n
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ʚ MAMA I’M IN LOVE WITH 2 CRIMINALS ?! ɞ
ᡴꪫ sum. you had one job. interrogate two felonious criminals, not screw them both. but it’s a friday night and what happens in the interrogation room stays in the interrogation room, right? wrong.
warnings. fem! reader, modern au, criminals sukuna ryomen x toji fushiguro, unprotected, thrēesome, tatted toji, manhandling, choking, dirty talk, double penn + cowgirl dp, praise, spıt roasting, size kink, ōral (f & m receiving), gunplay, spıt, brēeding, implied multiple rounds, nıpple play, overstim, dumbificaiton, they’re kinda fruity
wc. 6.4k
“you’re avoiding the question.” you utter with a vexed scoff.
these two, sukuna ryomen and toji fucking fushiguro. sleazy infamous criminals notoriously known within the city with a staggering criminal record underneath their belts. they were a duo, the duo. everyone knows—where there’s sukuna, there’s toji. constantly always in and out of prison as if life was a mere game to them, a mere joke. your patience continues to run thin the more you stare at them blankly. those unfazed eyes, those smirks, they didn’t take you seriously, especially with how easy on the eyes you were. you almost stammer over your words before peering back at toji. “my eyes are up here. quit wasting my time.”
“easy, girl. we already told ya we didn’t do it,” toji brings two hands up to his chest with a sly smirk, pretending to be offended. he sat right beside sukuna, both in the same orange undifferentiated jumpsuits. “besidesss,” and he leans up close to you, sliding a tongue against his slanted fabled scar. “for a detective you’re pretty shit at your job. where’s the eye contact, love?”
“yo toji don’t piss her off,” sukuna cackles with his arms crossed. he leans against the steel chair, taking in your entire frame. as much as you could give them both an annoyed glower, toji was right. you were one of the if not the best local detective in your city, yet with these two, you were slacking in everything. you could barely stare into their eyes without looking away, embarrassingly fumbling over your words, a mess. sukuna hums in amusement, cocking a brow upwards. “but y’know, detective. it is kind of hard to confess our crimes when ya look this good on a friday night.”
the compliment immediately catches you off guard. the air suddenly grows thick. you’re squeezing your legs shut tight - the stretchy fabric of your tucked fishnets glues against your skin before you clear your throat.
“i know what you’re doing. ‘s not gonna work.” but who were you kidding, just a single comment as that had you all hot and bothered. questioning one criminal was one thing, but two at the same time was another. you didn’t know how you were gonna get through the night. inside the dim lit interrogation room, it was quite spacey. luckily, it was pretty late at night so your superiors had left you alone to close. you insisted you’d question them then take them back to the station yourself. although, that certainly wasn’t the plan.
the brick walls were rustic, it grew very quiet the moment you trailed off your words. the silence was almost deadly, so deadly that you could practically hear a pin drop. sukuna and toji, they were infamous for their crimes—burglaries, robberies, to keep it short, they weren’t exactly good guys.
with a quick scratch toward his ripped pecs, toji glances around the room. sharp verdant hooded eyes gawk near the glass viewing window directly before he snickers. “saaaay,” he hums in a gruff tone, lazily slouching back against his seat. “how ‘bout ya take these handcuffs off ‘n we’ll tell ya everything ya wanna know.”
“nice try,” you lean up against the table, finally staring right into their eyes - moreso toji. he flashes you a cheeky grin as you inch forward, sukuna keeping his eyes fixated on you also. with a quick glimpse, you peek down at your watch. “seriously, i don’t have all day. i have somewhere to be in a hour, so-”
“hot date?” sukuna raises a brow, his collar from his jumpsuit ruffed out a bit. just that minor detail alone was so attractive. “so that’s why you’re wearing pretty fishnets, mm. lucky guy.”
again—you’re caught off guard. both men stare at you as if they’re trapped inside your thoughts, already knowing what you’re about to say next. just casually reading every single thing that pops into your brain. were you that easy to read? you didn’t actually have a date but you were going out. maybe being all dolled up on the job was a bit unprofessional. sheepishly abashed, you dig the soles of your boot heels into the carpet ground before muttering lowly, desperately trying to keep a straight face.
“my personal life isn’t what’s important … here,” and your eyes widen once you see toji with his hands apparently free.
how . . .
your eyes then trail at sukuna who had your handcuff keys right in his palm. sukuna freed his wrists and toji freed himself before the dark haired fugitive stands up to stretch. damn, they just have snuck it when you were fantasizing. again,
“you were saying about y’er personal life?” the pink haired male hums, slowly making his way behind your edge table. you felt cornered— oh, perhaps taking the final shift of the night wasn’t the best idea.
no, it was a horrible idea.
yet, the more they got closer to you, the more you started to feel something … feverish.
suddenly, between your thighs felt hot. with the bare bottoms of your shoes rubbing against your heel, toji cups your chin, staring right into your eyes. sukuna appears behind you, creeping, tossing your documents to the side and you grouse. “you can get in a lot more trouble for touching me, toji,” you utter, both eyes of yours staring intently into his. the eye contact was so intimate — you’ve never had a problem with eye contact until now. his smirk, he brushes a thumb against your bottom lip before scoffing. “s- seriously.”
sukuna’s crimson-red eyes reach towards the side of your hip, you were armed. cute, he hums whilst pondering just what his next step might be before toji cackles.
“okay and,” he purrs, leaning in just a bit deeper. you smelled the scent of alcohol lingering on his tongue. his eye contact was simply alluring, dark viridescent irises pool into yours before he looks at his partner. “heh, ‘kuna. you think we’ll get less probation if we play with the pretty lady for a bit?”
sukuna goes next to you, snatching your pen from you and you gasp once he’s now gripping your entire face. you nearly gnaw on your lip, as you make direct eye contact. his touch was still surprisingly gentle nonetheless.
toji purrs, running a thumb against your skin-tight fishnets. “nah, right pretty girl? you ain’t gonna rat on us, are ya? at least not when you’re this soaked.”
damn,
he was right again. the reason your legs were shut tight was because you were trying oh so desperately to hide the mess right between your thighs. it was embarrassing—the stickiness that presses against your legs has you growing more and more aroused. so unprofessional, you had to keep repeating that in the back of your head. you were soddened, soaking right through your pretty laced panties despite how much you didn’t want to come to terms with your filthy state. you’ve dealt with so many criminals. more than you could count on both fingers, so what made these two any different? you didn’t know, and quite frankly, you didn’t care.
anymore,
technically if you wanted to be delusional, you were basically off work. so a little fun wouldn’t matter.
then again, this little stunt would probably cost you your badge.
but screw it.
this kinda thing only happened in movies. and besides, it was only you currently on the clock. no one could even find out … right?
wrong.
you of course weren’t thinking about the future consequences that would creep up to follow you before you found yourself now shamefully on your knees for sukuna. he snickers at you, giving you a brief head pat before dragging your face up to his jeans.
“aw,” he murmurs, and you hear the low rasp of toji’s chuckle behind you. rough hands of his caress against both sides of your ass before pulling up your pencil skirt. you try to turn around but sukuna makes you shift your focus back towards him. “nah, detective. isn’t followin’ instructions part of y’er job? eyes down here..”
with a moan escaping from your throat, sukuna tugs down the lower part of his jumpsuit. the fabric ruffles and you’re met with a big bulge. oh, he was big. your first instinct was to paw at it with your hands, yet sukuna makes you rub your face against it. you can’t help but moan, sticking out your tongue as your face’s being smeared against his bulgy hard-on. “toji, she’s fuckin’ hungry. look at ‘er.”
toji hums, a finger of his trailing against your fishnets. they were skin tight, stuck against your skin like velcro. he groans, feeling the way you teasingly wriggle your ass against him. it was around midnight, surely no one would show up in the interrogation room—
although, the thought of it made you a bit more wet. you couldn’t lie to yourself though, you were familiar with these two criminals. you’d be crazy not to, everyone knew the toji fushiguro and sukuna ryōmen.
the duo,
you saw them all the time on local news. their mugshots would always get leaked. they’d always smile in their shots—gaining so much love from ladies. ironic, they even have fanfictions made about them.
there’s toji with the smug eye half-lidded grin, and then sukuna with the raised chin, natural fang-like teeth and grim annoyed expression.
your job was to question them not to be on your knees, but you weren’t complaining.
“all this ass,” toji snaps you out of your trance, gifting your rear a mean spank. the recoil of it drags you out of your little fantasm before you bite your lip and you’re facing directly forward. “what do ya want princess? want more don’t ya?”
you nod, sukuna’s cupping your chin with a sneer but your ass is only met with another rude smack.
“i- i want you both,” you grumble, toji smugly hums from your cute attitude. he’s taking in all of you — your curves, the cute beige trench coat you had on in an attempt to cover up your secret flashy outfit underneath, all of it. toji was handsy, once he had his hands on your hips, they were glued on. he groans from your answer before a thumb slides against your waist. “please.”
“but detective’s aren’t this dumb are they?” sukuna cranes his head to the right, squeezing both of your cheeks together with one hand. your lips were all glossy. he smears a thumb against them before leaning down to give you a kiss. you moan, kissing back before he pulls away, a lustrous concoction of spit departing from both mouths. “you sure you not gonna rat us out? both our lives are technically in your hands, princess.”
“i’m not gonna t- ah,” you stop to gasp, feeling toji’s bulge rub against you. his grip was delicate, he rubs yourself against him and groans. your arch was cute, bent over the table with your chest pressed against the multitude of paperwork. averting your lewd gaze back up towards sukuna, you loll out your tongue. he looks down, watching you create a snail trail of saliva near the middle part of his bulge. he’s so thick, the fabric tastes cottony against your tongue as you stare up at him. cerulean blue boxers with a tag sticking out from the side, yeah he definitely stole that. sukuna’s still got a grip on your scalp before he ogles at you pulling his boxers down. “s- so big.”
with a fat thumb still pressing down against your bottom lip, he coos out a sly tune. “scared yet?” and you prove him wrong by wrapping a hand around his base but god, he had staggering inches to him. toji’s still behind you and you moan once you feel him bring a wet kiss to your right ass cheek. he gives it a smooch only to spank it yet again, playfully giving it a bite mark. sukuna had just the right amount of curve to him. he’s so heavy that it hangs a bit — a pretty tannish peel of foreskin that you just wanted to run your tongue along. so you do. your mouth starts to gradually water as you inch up closer, and closer . . and closer.
sukuna’s staring at you with ruby red irises. you present his tip with a tiny lick and he grunts, your tongue feeling cold and dampened. “ugh, good girl. this is what that fuckin’ mouth should be used for. not talkin’ people’s ears off.”
his cock had a bit of a beige tan—sliding the top of your tongue against his frenulum, you watch as he grunts. sukuna’s fingers still maintain a firm enough grip against your scalp before you feel toji’s tongue. you whine, feeling the aching sensation of the other criminal propped up behind you preparing for a taste. toji roughly yanks your panties to the side, already pulling down your fishnets before he runs his nose all down your sopping, slick slit. “mhm, ‘kuna she’s already fuckin’ wet. all this time she was tryna get us to confess but her sloppy pussy’s the real culprit.”
rotund fingers of toji’s brush against your folds that were happily presented out to him—you’re facing forward and sukuna grabs ahold of his length. with a big hand, he rubs the tubby fat head of his tip over your face to make you moan before finally putting it in your mouth. he’s lengthy, you knew taking him inside would be quite the literal stretch. the girth too, so delicious. a vein that runs down the side of his shaft pulses in your mouth and you luxuriate in the taste. you hear the faint sound of ruffling behind you and it’s toji fondling with the holster that’s attached to your hip. “m-mhm,” were your muffled babbles, slowly taking every inch of sukuna down your tight throat. up until he’s all the way down, you almost gag whilst toji sneaks your firearm from out of its protective belt.
damn,
not only were you soaking wet for two criminals you were supposed to interrogate, but you were also unarmed.
great,
sukuna grabs a fistful of your hair — slender fingers massaging your scalp before giving it a firm pull. a hand of his claws into your hair, tugging firmly at your roots that cling against your scalp. he gruffly groans at your tongue, watching as your eyes close and your throat’s just so warm. it’s tight, the tense muscles in his and tighten before he slowly starts to drag your head back and forth, “good girl, no more talkin’ yeah,” and he peeks back at toji who’s paying his attention to you from behind. the other criminal’s messy, smearing a thumb down your pulsating clit before sucking it. it’s long, long sluuuurps that makes your muffled moans grow louder. your body shakes vigorously. the unsteady squirms of your body makes toji chuckle and you feel his hot, tempid breath ghost again your folds. you try to turn around but sukuna prevents it, gripping the crown of your head. “nuh uh princess, eyes up here.”
your body’s mixed with so much emotions — the throbbing without you only grows stronger, and as you’re rutting against the table, you hear the loud repetitive creaks. the furniture was wooden and worse for wear, probably over a hundred years old you’d guess. sukuna’s thin nostrils flare up once he meets your gaze, watching your head bob. “mmhh,” you try to speak, but he hums, ruffling your hair.
“don’t try ‘ta speak with your mouth full, baby,” he purrs to you in a rasp, a hand sliding underneath your chin, feeling the saliva trickle its way out the creaks of your lips. “you’re so messy. fuckin’ slobber mouth.”
toji’s practically making out with your cunt, pointed hooked tip of his nose brushing against your opening hood and you moan. he’s so nasty, taking every possible opportunity to spit on your cunt, later lapping it up with his tongue. two broad hands spread your ass open, lolling out his tongue to taste every inch you provided. “mhm,” he groans, occasionally swatting a sharp smack near both templed cheeks of your ass. you weren’t gonna last at all, you knew that. you start to grind against his face and he hums, nibbling against your clit either a sly smile. “thaaaat’s it, fuck back against my face, give it ‘t me,” and your entire body’s shaking. as you throat’s being stuffed, your chest continues to rumble against the cold, slick table.
toji feels your hand sneaking between your pried open thighs before you try to cutely creep and touch yourself. “whore, we don’t do that.” he grumbles, smacking your hand away. you whine, eyes meeting back up at sukuna who shrugs with a grin. his way of telling you, ‘ he’s right. don’t touch yourself. ’
as you taste a bit of pre-cum on your tongue, you lap your twitching moving muscle over sukuna’s slit that runs down his shaft’s head. he hisses, pulling you further onto his cock until he hears a tiny gag. “ooh, ‘m reachin’ the roof, huh,” and it’s so much saliva pouring from your mouth that it’s slithering down the valley of your chest. your legs shiver, feeling the scrap of toji’s scar tickle against your pussy — so good. he purposely rubs against your clit with it, feeling your hips continue to grind further back against his face. “she likes your scar toji, she’s kinky.”
“i know she does,” toji snickers, rubbing his face, smearing it all against your wet cunt. you whimper, faint hairs of his stubble sticking against your skin from the gripping slick. it’s just filthy, his tongue swirls all around your cunt before giving it a sloppy french kiss. you’re so close to the edge, focusing your mouth on sukuna’s cock, mentally pinching yourself because if this was a dream, you didn’t want to ever wake up. toji’s a freak though because you suddenly gasp sharply, feeling his thumb poke its way against your neglected, puckering hole.
“heh, can’t forget about her too.” he gruffly jibes, his tongue flicking towards that same area before shifting back towards your needy cunt. your legs were so jittery, on its last and final hinges before you slide a hand inside your blouse.
“awww,” sukuna teases, watching your face contort into a mixture of pleasure. “someone’s close, huh. you wanna make a mess on that bum’s face, pretty girl?”
“fuck you, man,” toji shoots him a glare before spreading your ass just a bit wider. his long tongue delves between your folds before your back arches against the table. giving your ass one final spank, you end up finishing and it’s so much.
you’re stunned, taken aback as you gush right on his face. his chin was sleek, dripping down with your honeyed juices that he laps clean. you’re a twitching, slobbering mess—frantically heaving through full lungs before many second’s later, your throat’s being poured full of sweltering hot cum. it’s oozing down your throat slowly. you blink twice before even realizing it’s his taste that’s filling up your mouth. sukuna’s meaty thighs tense as he drags you closer toward his cock. your nose bristles against his pink flushed pubes before he continues to dump an entire load right down your now full throat.
“goddamn,” he sucks the air, watching as you swallow without him even having to tell you—you look so pretty, pretty plump lips still sheeny and a few droplets of his seed bedaub against the left side of your cheek. “didn’t know defectives have such a nasty t- throat,” he groans, and that’s when he leans down, pulling you into a sultry, warm kiss. toji rolls his eyes, getting up himself while rubbing his body against your already propped up ass. docile, blown irises remain on sukuna before he squeezes your chin, curling his tongue down your throat. he groans, tasting himself on your mouth, bitterly sweet.
“yeah just forget about me,” toji grimaces, and you feel sukuna’s lips contort into a subtle smile before pulling away. he darkly chuckles, eyeing his partner.
“oh, sweetheart don��t be like that.”
“shut up,” he glares, and you hear a bit of shuffling. toji grabs your firearm and you take a few seconds to catch your breath. slow steady beats, you let off a tiny moan once you feel a smooth yet cold sensation rub against your pussy. shivering, you bite your lip before hearing yourself squelch continuously. “fuck, lemme see how wet you are, doll.”
you let off a tiny moan, feeling toji slowly skim the muzzle against your clit — you pulse from the friction, the criminal slicks a tongue against his scar at the sight. sukuna watches, cupping your chin once more. “wonder what y’r lieutenant might think of you. don’t think this is in a detective’s handbook, is it not?”
“n- no,” you feel a wave of pleasure ripple through you. never in your life have you felt more aroused, toji’s brushing the front part of the gun against your pussy before easing it inside.
easily, you coat it with your previous slick before it starts to slowly shove in. you whine, bringing a hand over your mouth. “mph,” and you hear a low cackle from behind, thighs shaking in pure rapture.
“is she wet enough, ‘toj?” toji hums, giving you another brief head pat.
“yeah, fuckin’ slut made a mess already on the front sight,” he snarls. the tint in his pants growing hard. he pulls it out and already, it’s a slippery sheet of your sweet smearing over your own firearm. dirty thoughts purged your brain, imagining yourself using the exact same weapon on a threat, the same exact weapon that was just shoved deep into your cunt only a second ago.
you were egregiously throbbing and they both couldn’t wait anymore, neither could you. toji takes a seat near one of the steel chairs, sitting manspread. he’s already got his jumpsuit pulled down, burly brawny muscles flexing—a few explicit tattoos painting on both sleeves of his beefy arm. he’s so chiseled, so fucking hot. a big hand rubs his lap before ushering you to sit with a single hand motion. “sit on it,” and a burning heat overtakes you, peering at his thick cock that was stood tall and on display. he was so big, a blushing reddened tip with an even bigger base. toji was thickset, you couldn’t compare the two if you wanted. his neck lowers as you make your way on his lap, straddling him and preparing to align yourself. sopping wet sloshes squelches, you were drooling down from your cunt and right onto the fat tip of his dick. you moan, feeling how he’s slowly entering your heated core.
the stretch was so good — so fucking good.
“fuck, there we go baby. nice ‘n slow, yeah,” and toji catches sukuna staring, an annoyed scowl on his lips. “oh, sweetheart. ‘s someone jealous? why don’t you get in here?”
“tch,” sukuna mumbles, and he goes up behind you. toji’s barely in, halfway, yet it feels like full. you pulsed at the thought of both of them inside. sukuna hesitates though, planting a kiss near the inside of your nape. “whaddya say, pretty. ‘s that okay? ‘d ya want both? can you take two?”
“y— yes,” you suck your teeth, sucking a single sharp breath. toji was so fucking big, stirring up your insides so good until the butterflies fluttering inside your stomach died from the friction. it was a tight fit, and they both hum at how quick you were to respond. “i can take both. pleaseplease just hurry.”
“what ‘bout your ‘lil date?” toji teases, a big hand smacking against your ass — gifting it a solid firm squeeze. his thumb brushes against the soft skin before snickering at you. “both holes, if we give you that, you promise this goes off the record?”
sukuna whispers against your ear, and he’s starting to delve his cock in also, tugging down his boxers halfway. “yeah, princess. no snitchin’ yeah?”
“p- promise,” you moan, the mixture of both cocks brewing up such a feeling of bliss. you’re steadily throbbing before your hips start to move into toji. with a loud pop, your cunt squelches as it’s double stuffed and they both huskily groan in simultaneous unison. so fucking big, your jaw drops at both tips puncturing into you at once. you feel it all, embarrassingly feeling the same familiar sheet of slick stick against your thighs. “oh my g-goddd.”
each body that stuck against each other was so hot, sukuna grabs your hips from the back and toji holds yours from the front. “fuck,” the pink haired man grunts, feeling how easily you clamp down against him. toji’s cock kisses—french kisses against a spongey spot that makes you dumbly slump against his chest. “mhm, look at her toji. such a sloppy mess for two criminal cocks. maybe she should get arrested.”
“then that’d be no fun,” toji plays along, a scarred hand giving your right ass cheek a teasing grip.
the recoil bounces and bounces against his lap before he’s tossing his head back. occasionally, you spot his adam’s apple bobbing before he pants. you’re jerking your hips, trying to develop some kind of rhythm but it’s just rubbish. you’re trying, both cocks molding your walls with each merciless thrust. already, you’re drooling, brushing up against toji’s chest. you’re hit face first against his tits—not even tits but with cups that big, you might as well call it that. there’s not a single thought in your empty brain, and without thinking, you lean down to latch your mouth against his perky exposed nipples. “wha- fuckin’ weirdo.”
toji grunts, feeling you suck against his chest, rolling out your tongue into a swirl against each spot. you’re still being filled from both cores, both heated angles as your lashes flutter. oh, this felt like some kind of erotic fantasy, just being stuffed and sandwiched between two top dogs. the pit of your stomach grows feverishly warm and you whine, sucking against toji’s tender skin. “aw, think you might be her favorite, toji.” sukuna jeers, steadying your hips a bit. his voice, his breath, it went right up against the lobe of your ear, giving it a teasing lick of its own.
you whimper, naturally arched brows creasing and furrowing together as you feel a coil snap.
they finally reached your g-spot, it feels soft and padded. “fuck fuuuuck, ‘s good,” you babble, pathetic sobs pouring from your lips as you’re practically humping toji’s cock. sukuna fills you from behind, flustered crown repeatedly kissing up against clenching sexes. you’re transmitted in a dimwitted state, claws of your own fingernails digging into toji’s beefy thighs. “ngh, ‘s big. fuck, don’t stop— please.”
“what a fuckin’ blabbermouth,” toji grunts, watching as you paw your hands at his chest again. you weren’t sucking on him anymore and he brings a hand over your mouth. “nasty girl. this what you really wanted all along, huh. you didn’t wanna interrogate us, you just wanted to get stuffed, yeah?”
a silent reply comes out of your lips as you’re just covering their bases with a translucent puddled mess of your arousal — it’s messy, you’re messy.
“knock knock, dumb girl,” toji lightly knocks against your forehead, witnessing right before his eyes as your own pupils start to roll back. he removes his hand from your mouth and the intense friction of pleasures was so appetizing you could barely formulate an audible sentence. you’re still being filled in both areas, gummy walls taking in them both before you start to drool again. with a single hand, toji holds up your head as if he’s holding a trophy. “don’t tell me y’r already dumb, c’monnn. wanna hear that sweet voice.”
“t- tooooji,” was all you could babble out, rocking back and forth between each of them.
languid, slow hits against your core had your head spinning. with a sharp wind cutting straight out of your windpipe, you’re panting, clinging onto the dark haired man tightly. he eyes you with that same cunning smirk, clammy hands helping to reel you back and forth into his pelvis. sukuna groans lowly, edges of his teeth seeping down into the soft corners of your flesh. “fuck, ‘m so full. fuuuck.”
they both groan at the same time, feeling you suddenly clamp down, a squelch squeals out of your cunt before your legs merely collapse. with piles of hands roaming down your feverish skin, you start to feel your mouth salivate again.
sweet, salty saliva trickles its way into your mouth. you were so loud but your deafening thumping heart beats were even louder. “good girl, doin’ so good takin’ us both. nice ‘n slow,” and the nape of your neck’s met with a chaste kiss from sukuna. “ride this bum ‘till he breaks for me, yeah?”
with wobbling legs preparing to surrender and fall in defeat— you nod your head, picking up your pace just a bit. raven strands of unkempt hair run down toji’s face before he groans. “mhm, nasty ‘lil girl. don’t listen to him, ‘m not gonna— oh fuck.”
toji’s caught off guard by how sloppy your hips become. a breath gets caught in his throat as you’re grinding against him, sucking them both in so filthy. with your clit repeatedly being smothered with kisses from each tip, you moan, throwing your arms over his shoulders. “hngh, toji. ‘m gonna cum,” you whisper in his ear, growing a bit of spine to kiss near his neck. he grunts, thick weighty cock slamming into you raw. as you’re so close up to him, you feel his jaw tighten at your hips—sukuna’s hips following too. various pairs of hands grab onto your body, and you feel a jumble of bunch of figurative red handed prints clawing at your body. “toji t- tojiiii,” you’re mewling out his name like a broken record. sukuna’s rude sharp smack against your ass making you add his name. “sukuna, fuuuck.”
“look at him, he’s so close, baby,” sukuna murmurs against your ear, jerking your hips further against toji. toji’s raspy groans grow rougher and he slouched back against the chair. you’re in nothing more than a cowgirl position yet you’re being double stuffed by two — on toji’s lap and sukuna claiming you from behind. so lewd, he’s so close that he could almost taste his orgasm, the thought alone scratches such a carnal itch in his brain. a few fingers wrap around your neck, giving you a gentle tug before you croak out a squeak. “such a nasty detective. gettin’ wet for the people y’r supposed to be questioning,” and he reaches his a hand down between the crack of your thighs, feeling against your stuffed cunt. “should be questioning this sloppy girl instead.”
“fuck fuuuuck,” toji growls, his own thigh starting to mimic the pace of your hips, bouncing back and forth. the curve of your hips swivel ‘n swirl around his lap, taking in each salacious thrust. it’s too good. the mean grip your walls has against his cock, both cocks was just too addictive. “shit, ‘m gonna cum, babygirl. ‘s gonna be so much.”
you lean in, planting a wet kiss against his scar and his mouth twitches at the sudden contact. “mhm,” you rut into him quicker, feeling sukuna’s fingertips ghost against the outer part of your neck. toji’s eyes become half-lidded, sukuna’s following his movements — eventually matching each other in sync, in perfect harmony. both were reaching their peaks and it was just so inevitable.
slowly but surely, it was approaching. you felt that familiar bubble of pleasure fermenting in the bottom pits of your tummy all too well. it’s so good, by now you completely forgotten about the fact that you were supposed to go out tonight.
“fuck, where do you want it, pretty,” sukuna rasps against your ear, both hands slithering its way toward your bouncing tits. his thumbs prod against your sensitive nipples, swiping against the tender area as he watches you squirm in lewd ecstasy. you feel hot, dozens of meaningless babbles pouring out of your mouth. you’re a mess, barely able to comprehend what he said until he spanks your cunt a single greet. “talkin’ to you, gimme a answer, princess. don’t be rude.”
“i- inside,” you whimper, his touch against your breasts making you grind your hips further back against him. your rhythm was hypnotic, matching every single hit and thrust. both cocks deeply plunge their way into your walls until it’s buried way into the hilt. you whine, grabbing into sukuna’s hands yourself, making him squeeze harder. his touch, it made you throb. him spanking your cunt only made you twice as sopping wet though. more than you already were. “inside pleaseplease.”
“nasty,” toji tchs, gripping your chin to make you look up at him. you’re met with the coldest gaze. with a hand sliding down your spine from sukuna, toji brings your torso forward at a more quick pace to slam you quicker into them. you gasp, feeling both slit tips thwack and thwack into your weeping, swollen cunt. “fuckin’ — shit,” he growls lowly, and the moment finally comes.
the both of them at separate, divided times, finish deep inside you. a vastly oozing amount of cum emits into both holes raw and you huff.
whining, you fall into toji’s chest, relishing in the sticky mess that’s cascading deep into your womb. it’s hot, a flowing stream of seed that spouts all the way inside and you’re left dumbfounded and hungry for more.
oh, you’ve never felt anything like it. a tingling sensation storms into the pit of your stomach as they both groan, dumping you full of their satiny ropes of cum.
“fuck,” sukuna grunts, holding your hips still so you could feel every drop, every single drop. he hisses at the brief sting, your walls gripping onto them tight, a tenaciously slimy mess skating down your plush thighs. “such a good girl, heh. right ‘toj?”
“shut— up,” he puffs out an elongated breath of fresh air. you moan, still shivering as you came undone yourself, making a cute attempt at riding out your orgasm. still, your hips were slow but barely cresting haste. toji looks at you with glossed eyes and for a split second, he’s speechless. “goddamn baby, y- you’re a mess, y’know that?”
your own eyelids were growing significantly heavy, barely able to keep themselves open. after a few seconds, sukuna pulls out, watching a foamy wad of cum — a milky base, coating around each base. it’s so hot, the stuffed cum pours out of you and you hear the needy squelches your cunt makes. desperately craving for more, utterly devestated that it’s now clenching on nothing except for toji’s flaccid cock.
so messy,
he cranes your head toward him before brushing a thumb against your lip. “c’mere,” and his tone was low, you moan before leaning in to give him a kiss. your heart races, mentally swearing at yourself because this wasn’t part of the job.
your boss, some middle-aged lieutenant was expecting a full report of alibis and details about each of their cases — and yet here you were, making out with one suspect and grinding on another. shame foils at your brain as your lips crash against sukuna’s, moaning at his minty, sugary taste before he abruptly breaks away. “can’t forget about you, big guy.”
as he pried himself off of you, you watch as the pink haired criminal leans in to kiss toji, his eyes widen, hearing a low cackle rumble against his lips before he returns the gesture. toji puffs, not knowing where to place his hands. you don’t know why, but watching them sloppily make out made you throb. you’re still sitting on toji’s lap with his twitching cock still buried inside of you. sukuna slyly smiles against the other felon’s mouth. his hand trails down toji’s beefy body, stopping toward his shaft — he was so close to touching it but stops. that makes toji groan.
gradually, he pulls away - a sheeny web of spit departs from each lips and toji grows flustered.
“what the fuck.” toji grunts.
“oh, i heard that moan, don’t deny it.”
it was like this the entire time — countless banner, a plethora of positions in the interrogation room. the same interrogation room where you were supposed to be interrogating.
but that didn’t happen, and instead, you’ve been left stuffed full more than you’ve ever felt before. your clothes were practically torn and ruined, including your pretty fishnets.
with a sigh, you’re on your knees with both criminals gawking at you. their zipped up saffron-colored jumpsuits were back on and toji grabs your chin. “open, baby,” and sukuna’s toying with your handcuffs. knees of yours bury into the solid sleek floor before you part your lips open. toji watches, whipping back out your firearm before pressing the barrel between your lips. “lick it.”
you moan, lapping your tongue against the metal pierce—sukuna watches, growing quiet and wonders what toji’s gonna do next. you could feel your pulse through your ears again, it’s so loud that it puts booming speakers to shame.
pretty fluttering lashes of yours bat within each blink before toji bends down a bit toward your kneeling level. “good girl,” he roughly replies, sticking a finger between the trigger. it toggles against it and you feel a heat of nerves prick against your skin—giving birth to what appears to be goosebumps. toji has a smug grin, raising a dark brow. “you trust me, baby?”
stupidly enough, without hesitation, you nod with the metallic taste of the weapon still lingering on your tastebuds. “y- yes,” and your voice is so soft and pathetic. you sounded needy, longing for more of their touch, more of their taste. “i trust you toji.”
he makes your mouth pry open a bit more. pretty swollen lips,
perfect.
the gun, your gun that’s held currently in his hand, it goes straight into your mouth, your tongue flicks against the upper part of the barrel before he scoffs. “good girl.”
and you hear a single clicking cock,
your eyes widen, and it takes you a minute to realize toji just pulled the trigger.
but nothing happens,
and suddenly, his boner was ruined.
“well shit.”
#★vegasbaby.#toji smut#sukuna smut#toji x reader#sukuna x reader#toji fushiguro smut#sukuna ryomen smut#toji fushiguro x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x reader smut#toji x y/n#toji x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#anime smut#female reader#cw gunplay#jjk imagines#smut
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Hello z! Just wanted to say your writing is so yummy and keeps me and the rest of your followers so full😋 BTW! More puppy girl hybrid?? (P.s this is my first request 🙂↕️❤️)
PT 2 OF MY MOST RECENT PUPPYGIRL!HYBRID FIC FOR THOSE WHO ASKED!!
PT1 HERE
Notes: IM SO HAPPY IM UR FIRST REQUESTEE! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS!! And I’m super glad you enjoy my writing it really means a lot<33
Warnings: Hybrid!Gojo + fem!reader + PuppyHybrid!Reader + smut + small Drabble + not proofread + brat!reader + little bit of sub!Satoru + nipple!teasing + slight crying + overstimulation + mean!Suguru + exhibition
People who asked to be tagged: @qmsvpx @sugurubabe @shokosbunny @rinsluhvr @fuyuji-ii @mashtura @wisteriaflowersss @kickenkricken @rinsluhvr @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni I hope you guys enjoy!
WolfHybrid!Gojo who really can’t take all the teasing you’ve been putting him through. After the first incident Suguru made it 100 percent clear to you specifically that you are to not touch Satoru like that again, who knows what will happen if he’s not around. He’s not scared Satoru will hurt you but he should be eased into the world of pleasure not immediately made to cum on himself his first day in what is now his home.
Suguru scolds you bad, telling you how disappointed he is, how you know better! He knows how needy hybrids get especially your species but the toys he supplies for you should be more than enough. All you did in retaliation was make it a goal to ruin Satoru… poor thing why is he the victim in all of this? And yet he doesn’t even know.
You ignore Suguru’s rule when it’s just you and Satoru in the house.
You make an effort to rub yourself all over his body while wearing the thinnest layer of clothing, when he’s laying on the couch facing the ceiling you’ll come lifting his shirt up and licking all over his chest, even sucking on his nipples as extra stimulation. You love his reactions, everything makes him fully hard and his loud moans fill the empty living room. He can’t process what to do with this pleasure besides grabbing and fondling his cock until he’s finishing in his pants again.
It doesn’t take long for him to be hard all over again, and for you to repeat the process. If he asks if you can help him feel like that again you’ll force him to rub your ears for a good five minutes.
WolfHybrid!Gojo who gets to feel what it’s like being balls deep in your cunt, when you sink your nice ass to meet his pelvis, the poor wolf is fucking gone, he’s never felt something so tight around his cock, he’s never felt anything around his cock! Your plush walls squeeze him so good that he’s having a hard time forming sentences let alone words, all that’s slipping from his pretty slippery pink lips are moans, moans that emphasize how his balls are tightening and he’s cumming deep inside you.
You’re quick to start bouncing so cutely on him, your floppy ears bouncing along with you. Your toys don’t compare to Satoru’s thick cock, how has a woman never felt something like this? You can feel the twitching of his veins as he gets it up once again. You peek at his face to find the wolfman ruined, drool seeps from the corners of his lips and tears are decorating his lash lines.
When you finally cum, it’s a damn mess, the mixture of you two sit where you meet and seep out. The pleasure in the moment doesn’t have you thinking of what Suguru will do to you, doesn’t matter what he will do to the both of you, all you can think of is grinding down on Satoru’s cock for another orgasm.
Bonus!
Suguru is fucking furious, he was mad the first time but he let it slide since it simple curiosity on both sides. The simple curiosity has gone too far, you don’t fucking listen. Since the moment he had welcomed you into his home a few years back he’s had a hard time getting you to listen to directions.
He doesn’t hear you out when he drags you and Satoru to the bedroom, in fact he tells the both of you to keep going. You find yourselves shy under his eye and insist that you’ve both learned your lesson from his lecture earlier. He wasn’t really lecturing Satoru since he doesn’t know the rules as well as you do but this is a great learning moment.
He ignores you, ignores how you’re using the sweet eyes with him, he’s dead serious.
You’re quick to obey and incite a small kiss with Satoru, that turns into a full on make-out with Suguru watching intently.
The rest of the night is filled with moans and groans of complaints, Suguru had told Satoru to let any lewd feelings he had all on you, Satoru does not hold back at all, he fucks his thick cock into your sensitive walls over and over, the mess from earlier helps as to not hurt you so it’s so easy for him to slide back and forth. Satoru found himself ecstatic at the start but when he finds his cock overstimulated and his balls hurting from the painful pleasure he’s not feeling the same, but he for some reason won’t stop his hips from moving, he loves the feeling of having you cum around him nonstop, he loves Suguru watching him so intently, everything mixed together.
Your clit is so slippery that it’s hard to pinpoint where you should be rubbing, everytime you stop Suguru is quick to snap at you to keep going, this is what you wanted correct? He makes sure to ask that out loud, you’re so fucking adorable with the way you nod in his direction, he knows you have a few more in you.
#zsworks#fem reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo smut#gojo x female reader#hybrid reader#hybrid gojo x reader#hybrid gojo#satoru gojō x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#wolfhybrid!gojo#wolf gojo
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The (Un)Expected - S.R.
Type: one-shot, soulmate AU, good ol' meet-cute (soulmates meeting for the first time prompt)
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 8k
Summary:
A soulmark shows the first words your soulmate will speak to you. A soulmark tells you there is the person for you out there. A soulmark tells you what to expect.
For that, Steve’s is a source of comfort and anxiety to him. You always had a complicated relationship with yours.
But maybe they will teach you a lesson in the end – that the only thing one should really expect, is the unexpected.
Warnings: brief angst, mention of cancer (not reader), canon-typical violence, mention of death (no major character), blood and injuries, language, FLUFF so take it easy on sugar before reading
A/N: written for the Community Revival Extravaganza hosted by the wonderful @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 . Thank you both so much for hosting and stirring life in the fandom! I loved seeing the traffic and positivity on my dash - you're doing god's work 💕
A/N 2: DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; enjoy y'all 🥰
Steve Rogers was a sickly child.
He spent too much time to his liking in his bed – and even more time outside of it despite feeling sick for he couldn’t bear resting anymore, craving to explore the world instead – and was sneaked into a doctor’s office by his mother quite often as well. She only got him in as a favour, courtesy of her own good name – a nurse working double shifts and lending a helping hand wherever she could, a single mother working herself to a bone to take care of and set example to her only son.
A single mother, a nurse, a good person – a beautiful soul. She left this world too soon, but she left an imprint on Steve’s heart larger than any other person, perhaps besides Bucky, ever could.
All that told him, even as indirectly, that his soulmate would be one special dame. She would be kind, she would be brilliant and for that alone, he knew she would be beautiful.
Steve knew that as soon as he could read, as soon as he could decipher the words on his skinny forearm.
In a world where first words your soulmate would tell you were laced into your skin for you and your soulmate’s eyes to see only, his words told him his soulmate was a little miracle.
'I’m not a doctor yet.'
Steve had spent a fair amount of time around nurses and doctors to know that all nurses were women and the overwhelming majority of doctors were men – by the time he was ten, barely a few women were allowed to attend medical schools, let alone graduate. But you, you would be on your way to reach that. Brilliant. Driven. Desiring to help people, to heal.
It was only when other children, other guys and girls alike, began laughing at him for being too little, too weak, too bony, when his heart began to ache for a different reason than illness. If you were to be all these amazing things he had dreamed of, what were you to do with a sickly fella like him? With your words to him being these, it was a fair assumption to make that you would meet due to his health issues, perhaps a smart dame taken under a more experienced doctor’s wing during your studies. How disappointed you would be when your soulmate, the one person meant for you and chosen by destiny itself, would be… that?
That upsetting idea haunted him, hurting more than the bruises that had formed under fists of bullies Steve kept trying to save those even weaker than him from, more than stick and stones and words alike.
Then again… there was a little silver of hope in his heart, a little shy voice in his head. If you were to be his true love, then certainly you’d accept him, yes? If he tried, if he tried hard enough to be a good man, the best possible version of himself, if he worked hard to protect and feed his future family, set a good example for your future children as his mother had, worked towards making a better world, you’d accept him? If he could live with not being as great as others but never stopped trying, you would respect him and perhaps even loved him for what he was?
Then, of course, war came and those thoughts were pushed aside.
Then, he grabbed at his chance to fight that war, to do his part, to help – and incidentally, he also earned his chance to literally grow. Healthy. Strong. More worthy; but remaining good, because that was the one part of him he wanted to hold on to no matter what, that one part he would wish his love, wherever she was, would love him for, even if he suddenly shrank back into the back of skin and bones he used to be.
Then, he lost his best friend Turned into a failure.
And then… then he died.
One of his last thoughts were of you, a beautiful woman with vague appearance but strikingly kind heart and sharp mind. He prayed you’d get a new soulmate somehow, even as those cases weren’t heard of. He prayed you’d live a happy healthy life without him, at least as good as he would have tried his best to give you, to build with you, even as his own heart was breaking to pieces, regret veiling his body as water and snow and icy wind would, regret for missing his chance to meet the most special person in his world.
When he closed his eyes and still saw the white of ice and the blue of the deep sea, he’d swear he saw your face, crystal clear, for the first time – and the last time – in his life.
Seeing you, a stunning mirage, his last thought was that you were an angel gently leading him into afterlife.
When he woke up to a new millennium, one of the first things he did was checking his forearm; he words still sat there, taunting, mocking and heartbreaking, another screaming reminder of him not belonging here.
As years passed by, the sense of alienation subdued. Steve Rogers learned to belong, even as a piece of his heart was missing, longing for the past life – and the life he had never got to have – always humming in his chest quietly.
The mark on his forearm remained, a sad memento to a soulmate he had never met, turning him into a martyr.
But many people had rejected the idea of soulmates in this time, rebelling against their so-called fate, taking off on a path of searching love on their own. Steve learned they did so for various reasons – a sense of adventure before they’d truly find their one true love, a quest to choose the fortune and love on their own terms, a fuck-you to the universe when their soulmate turned out to be less than they imagined and hoped.
His own reasons, as he reluctantly started to look for a person to share his life with, were rather unique, but no one looked at him through their fingers for that. If anything, those who cared about him encouraged him, wishing for his happiness.
It was only when he got Bucky back – one of his greatest regrets not erased, not lessened since Bucky had endured unimaginable pain, but transformed, a piece of Steve’s past brought back to life – that he began to wonder about the almost blasphemous thought he had forbid himself from entertaining when he had been first brought back to life from ice.
Were you still there somewhere?
And then, a shier thought:
Is there still a chance for me to find my true soulmate?
And then, the shiest one of them all:
Is there a chance for me to find happiness with you?
When he had thought of that before, he was certain that since you were still alive – he had read reports of people claiming their soulmark changed colours if their loved one died – he had thought of you as an old lady who had hopefully lived her life as he had genuinely wished for her.
But what if fate, that little minx who had taken his best friend for life from him only to give him back, had somehow blessed Steve with a soulmark decades before you were even born? What he hadn’t lost his chance, what if you were still young enough to build a life with him? Was that even possible? There were aliens, flying suits of armour, other realms, downright magical weapons… he had been given a second chance at life. There were things happening Steve would have never thought possible before. So was there a chance…?
The idea of you being a doctor became much more plausible too – in this century, female doctors were a much more common occurrence. That, naturally, did not diminish your brilliance whatsoever, the fundamental idea of who you’d be never changing in Steve’s mind. The image only became less surreal in one way and a whole lot more surreal in another.
For his own sake, he didn’t give in into that hope fully; at least he told himself that despite lying awake at night, a ghost of a woman he had never met lying next to him, radiating non-existent warmth he wished with his whole being he could touch.
He wasn’t chasing after the ghost, didn’t allow himself that – there was no way to do so to his knowledge anyway – for the chances of success were rather slim.
But there was always hope, wasn’t there?
And the longing for love, whether it was in the hands of fate or in his own to find it, remained, built into his very body; etched into his bones, flowing through his veins, laced into his skin beyond the words on his forearm, always humming quietly in his heart.
In the age of information and science, the concept of having your ideal partner for life chosen by some mysterious abstract entity called Fate was literally otherworldly. Alien. Absurd even.
And yet, it still ruled the lives of many.
Which, in all honesty, was almost even more fascinating than the existence of soulmarks itself – the belief people had for them despite being no logic to them at all.
Perhaps it was the little piece of human soul, an inner child people so desperately wanted to cling to for its own beauty and purity, a child who never wanted to stop believing in magic, fate, dragons, mighty knights and kind-hearted ladies, in all things of fairytales and happy-endings the most. Because to a point, that was what soulmarks were – and little fairytale-like book of destiny.
One that not even science seemed capable of beating.
And you should know; you were somewhat of a scientist yourself. And despite how unfathomable the nature of soulmates was, you could not say that you rejected the idea of them, of someone who was born to belong with you, someone you could share your life with, the right partner in the crime of life. Basic bodily needs aside, wasn’t that the most fundamental need of all? To love and be loved; to belong?
Who wouldn’t wish for that reassurance that they could have that, that some strange force of universe itself created a person like that for them? They were the god’s strongest soldiers you supposed; because you were certainly not immune to that tempting comfort.
But you weren’t obsessed – and you prided yourself in the fact. Mostly because the sheer fanaticism of the world over soulmarks, the one thing that kept defying science – besides alien portals, magical blue cubes, demigods walking the Earth and things alike – was dialled up ad absurdum.
There could be billions of dollars poured into research of curing cancer. Cure autoimmune diseases. Helping the homeless. Slowing down global warming. Erasing poverty and famine. Protecting nature, endangered species. Discovering new worlds, exploring space.
But no. Governments poured billions of dollars into researching soulmarks. How was it they existed? How was it you could cut through skin, you could cut off skin and the mark would reappear somewhere else? What was the grand scheme of them? Why was it that only two people who belonged together could see them and the person speaking the words could only see it on their soulmate’s skin after they spoke the words, almost like a fail-safe that couldn’t seem to be broken with any tricks?
It wasn’t a question of physics as far as people knew; they had tried to build sets-up of various optics, thermovision cameras and complex sets of lenses and mirrors, and none of the reports you had ever heard of claimed success. It wasn’t genetic markers either; no one had discovered a sequence of DNA responsible for soulmarks, let alone turned whatever discovery they would have made into a tool of reading anyone’s but their own and their soulmate’s mark. It didn’t seem to be chemistry either; no one had made a groundbreaking discovery or at least they hadn’t informed the scientific or any other community so far.
But by gods, forget the space race. Attempting to be the first one to somehow read everyone’s soulmark and then create an algorithm to monetize it as the one and only soulmate dating app, now that was a competition overflowing with cutthroat madmen. Not to mention the crowds looking to temper with soulmarks, to make another one appear on someone’s body; or worse, to erase the original soulmark and instead design one capable of manipulating the outcome of a soulmate match.
You found the force of that obsession insane – and frankly, all the attempts morally wrong. While dedicated to science and loyal to discovery, you found soulmarks to be something sacred, one of the things that should not be touched by filthy human hands; god knew humanity, while doing a lot of good, had mucked up about just as much.
You were not alone in that belief. There were, in fact, numerous demonstrations against scientists experimenting with soulmarks, people protesting against anyone creating such tool and using it to temper with natural course of things no one fully understood, not for the lack of trying. However – as expected everywhere where politics and money were involved – these protests were in vain.
They were as vain and futile as the research of the marks itself.
As for your own soulmark, you had a rather complicated relationship with it.
On one hand, it gave you a sense of peace – there was someone for you, even as sometimes it did not feel plausible at all. You had time too – because based on those words, you would not meet your soulmate until in your twenties at least. You had plenty of time to become who you were meant to be before a man could turn your life upside down, even as that was not supposed to be what soulmates did, at least not in a bad sense of the word.
On the other hand, it was a ball and chain. You would not find you soulmate sooner than in your twenties and sometimes, you missed them despite not having met yet. When imagining what your meeting could be like based on their first words etched into your skin, you feared they might be a little disappointed – even as you did not let that stop you from pursuing the life you wanted. And despite you wanting to choose the career either way, it felt like someone – be it god, fate or another cosmic entity humanity was yet to discover – had chosen the path for you the moment you had been born if not before.
'Doctor, are you alright?'
Four simple words that couldn’t be more ordinary and yet extraordinary for they represented one of the most meaningful encounters of your life. The source of as much comfort as anxiety.
You couldn’t stand hospitals ever since you were a child. The cold environment reminded you of the strange icy feeling that had settled in your chest over the months you had been visiting your dying father, your naïve eyes watching cancer bite off his energy and smiles first, before it swallowed his whole body and soul. He had been a ghost long before he passed; and in your mind, despite all rationality even years after, that ghost haunted any hospital you visited.
Learning what your soulmark was as a child, you had spent countless nights crying, soul torn into pieces, pushed and pulled between the visceral desire to live up to your soulmark and the crippling nausea at the mere thought of dealing with people drowned in misery caused by any illness in the cold institution they called a hospital.
However, the curious kid you had been, you had fallen in love with science itself.
And that one day at school, when a classmate of yours had brought their father to the class to talk about his job as a doctor, you had burst into tears. You began to sob in the middle of him explaining to third-graders that he was not a medical doctor, but a physicist with a doctorate earning him the degree of a doctor as well. You remembered your teacher leading you outside of class, concerned and absolutely baffled, trying to sooth you helplessly even as you were completely inconsolable – because you did not need consolation.
You were crying the happiest, most relieved tears of your life.
You could still be a ‘doctor’. And you genuinely wanted to be one, not just because of what your soulmark read. You had always wished to help people indirectly, even as you looked back at your life now. Sure, your soulmark could have been adding fuel to your drive when your motivation had been running low, but this was who you desired and was meant to become.
A molecular biologist. A doctor in making. Researching the effects of medicinal drugs with hopes to improve them.
A scientist not researching soulmarks, thank you very much.
And yes, there was the lingering feeling of missing a person you hadn’t even met yet – especially when Doctor Simmons’ face lit up like fluorodeoxyglucose in PET scans whenever she saw Doctor Fitz – but you had other things to focus on. And you had time. There was no pressure.
You were not a doctor yet, after all.
Naturally, just because you dodged the joys and sorrows of being a medical student and later on, a medical doctor, it did not mean that you had it easy. No one working on their doctorate did. But when you decided to pursue your degree and work in research, you signed up for that.
You signed up for a lot of things.
It was a little peculiar for you to be on the SHIELD campus in the science division without a doctorate. It was a known fact that SHIELD only recruited best of the best, this Science ad Technology in particular: you needed at least one doctorate to even walk through the door, which was something you were reminded a lot because you did not meet that requirement and here you were.
But SHELD owned the best equipment and you were fortunate enough to get in by the lovely game of fate, being good and driven enough and having met the right people at the right time. SHIELD Academy’s Science & Tech division had the unique equipment you often needed for your research. Your research was interesting enough for people who had perhaps more power over your little life than fate itself. Stars aligned.
It was no walk in a parc, but you were no fool; jumping after that opportunity after having one too many doors shut into your face was a no-brainer. Even though it meant signing up for a whole extra load of shit.
You signed up to be the weird girl. The privileged girl. Hell, even the stupider than local average girl, because you were only an engineer at this point.
You signed up for being the young girl, even as you had met a few people there who had started younger, having actually earned their first PhD at age 17 or less.
You signed up for mockery and misogyny, for as you were aware the level was blissfully low here compared to other workplaces, especially where science was concerned; in exact science, you observed, more than anywhere you ever heard of, it was customary to keep that one insufferable employee, because they were simply that good at their job, no matter that they had cost the department a few other employees.
You signed up for living on campus with other SHIELD recruits, which meant living in close quarters with other divisions; as a result, some days the whole area seemed to swim in testosterone emitted by the hulking special agents in making from Operations.
But that was okay. You could do it.
There were bright sides too, many of them. Like pursuing your dream career. Being among like-minded people whose brain, to a large point, ran on the same wavelength. Hooking up with a handsome but notbrainless recruit from Operations or Communication here and there, some flings, some relationships, because if you were to wait for the love of your life, you might as well not wither completely. You were only human and you had needs along with your lifegoals.
You more than willingly signed up for working with Agent slash Doctor Jemma Simmons. With her two PhDs and rich experience from the field, she had left the action behind in order to work on her third PhD and help humanity without having her life on the line every day. She was hard-working, with no-nonsense approach and lovely sense of humour with plenty of stories to back it up; she was overall pleasant person to work and be friends with and despite having been through amazing and terrifying experiences other people couldn’t even imagine, she remained surprisingly down-to-Earth.
Sure, she had her quirks like insisting on having a gun at hand at all times and stashing a few small vials of altered Molotov cocktail, a mixture of chemicals which would ignite upon the vial breaking, in one of the nearby cabinets – but you supposed there were worst things to get used to than that in a coworker or a friend. She used to be an active agent after all; in fact, unofficially, she remained one. Much like anyone, you knew that certain habits died hard and being through what she had been – she confessed to you that she once spent months on a nearly deserted ancient planet, among other things – left a mark. If this made her feel safer, you’d take it.
Another great thing about Jemma, Doctor Simmons, was that she was adorably English and was in dedicated relationship with Doctor Fitz who was a Scotsman, so that was the spice of long workdays at times; especially if you agreed to play Scrabble with them and a few friends in the evening.
But there were things you had not signed up for when following the alluring promise of a prestigious spot and unique equipment.
And one of them was a damn Nazi revival group in the form of fucking HYDRA attacking the lab while you were in the peaceful process of waiting for your PCR to finally be finished.
Influx of men in full tactical gear interrupting Jemma updating you the vacation plans, Fiji and all the rare species of fishes that could be observed there when scuba diving.
When you heard the first shouts, breaking of glass and dull echoes of gunshots from afar, your immediate thought was that you had been having a good day and that the experiment had been coming along nicely – and that whatever mess was happening was for sure about to ruin all your progress.
By the time panic settled in, Jemma was practically tackling you down, hand over your mouth to muffle your startled squeak at the sudden movement, her eyes alert and serious, screaming at you to keep quiet.
The sickening shouts of HAIL HYDRA, COOPERATE AND YOU’LL GET HURT LESS was what sent your brain crashing into reality; that and the distant agonized cries of people, coworkers and recruits you knew and met in the hallways every day, following the sounds of gunshots growing in volume and frequency.
You could hear Jemma shuffling next to you further.
You yourself were unable to move beyond stifling a cry behind your suddenly sweaty palm as another female voice wailed in pain.
Blood seemed to freeze in your veins despite your heart thundering in your ribcage and your temples and it helped you shit at all that you were aware that was such thing was literally impossible. By the time Jemma’s hand grabbed yours again and squeezed hard, you realized you were shaking – half in anger, half in paralyzing fear, half in utter shock. It didn’t matter it didn’t add up.
What mattered was the gun in Jemma’s hand. She was holding a gun, ready to shoot, because there were enemy agents, fucking HYDRA burst through the door, guns blazing. And killing people.
You were whispering with exasperation worth of a shout before you knew what you were doing.
“Why?! Why the fuck-“
“Probably the samples they brought in today, precious cargo,” Jemma whispered back frantically, loading the gun and reaching into another cabinet behind her. You only stared at her in utter confusion and mute horror, rapid heavy footsteps approaching and sending your already racing heart into a madness. “Gun or cocktails?”
“I can’t shoot a-!”
Before you could finish, the familiar sound of the sliding door opening and a horrifying echo of tactical boots reached your ears, a set of vials pressed into your palm.
You gulped, pulse thundering in your temples.
Those goddamn Simmons’ cocktails as you named them since she had insisted on keeping around.
You couldn’t believe the moment was here that you were actually grateful for them, even as they seemed to burn in your hand even with the vials themselves intact.
Your eyes snapped to Jemma’s face to question it wordlessly at least, but she wasn’t looking at you; she was listening intently, lying in wake as if she was the predator and not the prey you felt like.
Your own breathing seemed too loud as you allowed yourself to squeeze your eyes shut for but a moment, a desperate attempt to wake up from the nightmare; but the morning didn’t come.
Instead, a gunshot rang in the room, glass shattering somewhere above your head to your right, sending a waterfall of shards flying next to you.
And causing you to cry out in fright.
Which revealed your position to the agents flowing into the lab.
Without a thought you snapped your eyes opened, jumped to your feet and threw two vials in the direction of a black blur with a shockingly clear red patch of the mythical Hydra monster in the middle; peripherally, you saw Jemma attacking as well, deafening noise of gunshot nearly blowing your eardrum.
You crouched back behind the counter so fast you felt vertigo swing you to the left, sharp pain erupting from your palm. It was pure miracle your right hand didn’t clench in instinct and shatter the two remaining vials, setting yourself on fire as well.
As well.
Someone was screaming – a man, you realized – the acid smell of burned flesh and plastic and various chemicals punching your nose and your stomach hard. You had hit someone with the vial. They screamed because of what you had done. You had-
You had no time to feel sorry. You had no time to properly think fucking serves them right.
More steps, more gunshots, movements you weren’t sure how happened or came to you in the first place, flashes of light and crimson and noise and godawful smell--- and pain erupting in the back of your head and suddenly you were barely catching yourself on the counter with your slippery palm--- your fingers brushed metal, knees weak but hands grabbing with all your might, lifting and swinging, a sickening crack on your right before you were falling, landing on your wrist, back hitting the cabinet door and making even more noise as you sent equipment clattering around.
However, the loudest sound was another gunshot; but the strangest sound was unfamiliar whizzing and metal hitting metal and someone most definitely shouting “clear!” that sounded as distant as a whisper over the ringing in your ears.
Instinctively, your head snapped to the voice as you tried to prop up on your hands to see; the world swam in front of your eyes, dizziness forcing you to fall back on your ass and squeeze your eyes shut in hopes to stop the world from spinning, a sting in your palm drawing a hiss from your lips.
You could hear Jemma’s talking to someone, her words blurred into a mumble despite her voice sounding firm and methodical; footsteps, quick and heavy but somewhat soft, accompanied by a brush of air against your skin, making you open your eyes again just as navy blue with speckles of silvery grey glinting in a flickering light filled your vision.
Then, a face; an extremely handsome face even as a helmet made of blue similar to the rest of his suit covered the upper half of it, framing a pair of the dreamiest blue eyes you had ever seen, as beautiful as blurry as a dream indeed.
Somewhere in the back of your brain it started clicking into place – that the man in front of you looked a whole lot like Captain America and he was there to kick HYDRA’s ass; he was hunk and looked righteous and unfairly pretty, the cut of his jaw sharp enough to appear as if sculpted by ancient masters of art and it might be softened by the leather strap holding his helmet in place but that only brought out the sheer beauty of his lips even with a small bloody split on them.
And he was talking to you, his leather-clad hand gently grasping your arm as you involuntarily swayed to side when moving your head to take in the entirety of his large figure.
“Doctor, are you alright?” he asked slowly, velvety voice sweet and heavy with concern at once, the gentle but firm hold on your arm growing stronger when you blinked owlishly, the connection between the meaning of his words and his apparent intention to talk to you slow and fragile.
Your tongue felt as if made of lead even as it tasted of bitterness of adrenalin, but you willed yourself to answer, a knee-jerk reaction more than anything else.
“’mm… not a doctor yet.”
As you responded, you brain began to clear; and it occurred to you that it was a fair assumption for him to make.
You had grown used to clarifying, but hadn’t done so in months, because everyone already knew. However, he was an outsider to this lab and he couldn’t know you were the exception to the local rule. And you were wearing a lab coat, one that now had to be covered in mixture of chemicals you did not wish to identify, but perhaps you should try, because your forearm was beginning to burn.
The beautiful man kneeling in front of you silently observed you for what seemed like an eternity and half, surprise written all over his face. You couldn’t blame him; you were the weirdo of the lab. The fact the person who had purposely stacked explosives at hand was less of an anomaly than that was a thing to consider, but your head hurt too much to think about that and your heart was still beating unhealthily fast and his error seemed so insignificant in the grand scheme of things of HYDRA having attacked your lab and Captain America being right in front of you, holding onto your arm.
His soft baffled smile as he hung his head and shook it a bit with a breathless chuckle, and then lifted his downright shining gaze back to you, well that certainly made for a spectacular distraction from such unimportant thoughts.
Did his thumb just brush your arm as he still held you up a bit?
And had anyone ever told him he had a stunning smile that could melt hearts even if it was barely there and it was certainly melting yours?
“Apologies, miss. I’m going to help you get to medical, alright?” he suggested, those damn gorgeous eyes roaming your face with what almost seemed like wonder, even as his voice sounded all kinds of reassuring. “You’re safe now, I promise.”
Safe. You were safe. Because there had been HYDRA agents, but Captain America and actual SHIELD operatives had come to the rescue. And because Jemma was-
Jemma. Your straightened, dull ache pounding in your back as you did so, vision clearing a fraction with the sudden realization that you couldn’t hear your friend anymore. Your friend whom you owed your life very likely, but even if you didn’t, you would have-
You craned your neck over Captain America’s impressive frame, head snapping from left to right, nausea rising with the movement, but that didn’t matter, you had to-
You turned your alarmed gaze back to the man who was still holding you, an urgent question on your lips.
“Jemma? Is she--- Doctor Simmons, brunet, lab coat-“ you paused, realizing bitterly that you had just described half of the Science and Technology. “Female. She’s a doctor and an agent too, she was with me had a gu-“
A warm squeeze on your arm, the concern which had grown even more evident on Captain’s face melting away and giving way to a soothing smile.
“She’s alright. She’s already left to be checked up and to give her statement.”
Your shoulders sagged, your head dropping a bit; the violent vertigo that seized your body at that was not pleasant and you tried to blink it away, gaze catching the reflection of the still-blinking fluorescent lamp on the Captain’s shield.
Oh. That was probably what had made the whizzing sound before. As your brain conjured an image of that, a spinning shield flying through the air, you cursed yourself mentally for letting your mind even go there since you had already felt like you were the flying piece of metal and the thing you’d hit eventually would be the floor.
“My head is spinning,” you muttered absently as you attempted to refocus your gaze, praying to gods of religion and science alike you wouldn’t throw up on the poor caring man.
Why was he still sitting here with you? Surely there were much more important things to tend to than one little post-grad? How was he so kind and gentle? Wasn’t he known for inspiring speeches in a deep serious voice and for beating up villains with both his physical strength and brains?
So many questions and no answer in those pretty blue eyes.
In fact, the number of your questions grew exponentially when the hand on your arm released the pressure and gently rubbed your elbow instead; his free hand carefully cradled the back of your other hand, the contrast of leather and his warm skin surprisingly sensual, suddenly making you understand why so many regency era literature spoke of hand-holding as indecent even as it was barely Fifty Shades of Grey level of filth.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Captain Rogers said, snapping you from your thoughts. “Let me help you up and they’ll check you up too, including this nasty cut, okay?”
Huh?
Purposely slowly as not to make the vertigo worse, you glanced at your hand in his, feeling a fresh sting just by looking at your palm, your gaze instantly snapping away.
And falling straight onto two intact vials full of liquid of a distinct colour, lying carelessly about two feet away from Steve Rogers’ tactical boots. Your heart jumped in your chest, your hazy mind finally growing aware of your surroundings.
“Shoot! Careful around those, they’re highly flammable!” you warned him swiftly, his gaze snapping to the vials in question, while ours slowly trailed over the utter, utter messthe lab had become.
The sheer amount of broken glass, spilled chemicals, broken pipettes, torn papers and unidentifiable piles of junk was staggering and it was actually a miracle nothing had exploded yet – and as a cherry on top, a few feet away, a relatively small portable PCR machine, the very equipment you had been using, downright murdered along with your experiment and a smudge of blood around it. Jesus.
“Okay, that’s good to know. More the reason to get out,” Captain Rogers remarked, slight amusement lacing his voice, only growing stronger as he continued. “Keep a lot of these around?”
You could have scoffed, but you didn’t. You have no idea, pal.
“My friend is paranoid…” you explained, still staring at them, even as you mentally added ‘or not’, since those little things might have very well saved your life. As your gaze returned to Captain Rogers, your eyes caught on something else, having you sit up straighter in sheer horror. “Is that a stab wound?!”
You gulped at the sight, even as your uninjured hand instinctively reached out towards it – as if you could fix it. The already dark suit, a lovely navy blue, appeared downright black at left his side, right where it seemed to be singed by a flame.
Had that injury been there the whole damn time he had been sitting here with you, eternally patient with your slowed brain, Simmons’ cocktails lying around in one huge chemical dump in risk of exploding any damn minute?
You logically knew the answer had to be yes, but it made zero sense – and his answer made even less sense.
“Bullet, actually. Some sort of chemical damaged the Kevlar lining and they got a lucky hit. It’s just a graze.”
“A gra-“ you choked on the word, spit stuck in your throat causing you to cough and a groan escape past your lips as the sudden rapid movement sent your head pounding again.
“Hey, you-“
“You’ve been shot and you called my cut nasty?” you questioned through the tears, earning a smile worth giving up a career for – painfully warm, kind and… almost fond.
You truly must have hit your head hard.
…as if it hadn’t been evident before.
“I heal fast. You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be alright, doc.”
A knee-jerk reaction – again. What was it with him? Had he hit his head, forgetting you had already explained – you had, you hadn’t imagined that, right? – and now he called you a doctor again, turned into a familiar nickname, no less.
“I’m not a doct---- holy shit.”
It slammed into you like a train, struck you like a lightning, even as neither of those things had ever happened to you – yet, you imagined it had to feel like this.
A massive force, a force of nature, realization as bright and as unexpected as a lightning from a clear sky.
Doctor, are you alright?
He had asked that. He had asked that. He had said your words. He had said your goddamn soulmate’s first words to you, what must have been minutes ago, and only now it hit you.
You were left staring at him with wide eyes, myriad of emotions written all over his face, including slight amusement and what you had earlier inexplicably identified as fondness, because the reason why he was still sitting here with you – though perhaps that was what he always did when rescuing, what did you know, you didn’t, this was your first meeting, that was why he had said the words – was that unlike you, he had realized you were his soulmate right away.
He kept watching you, silently letting you process the crucial revelation, a tight but no less kind smile on his lips.
“You said my words,” you said oh so intelligently. “You--- what… what did I—say?”
It was perhaps the stupidest question of all you could have come up on the spot, but you genuinely couldn’t remember – and wanted to know what words he had been looking at his whole life.
…this part of life? Or before the ice too? How did he feel about that? How did he feel about you? Was he disappointed? He didn’t look like he was, but didn’t even know what you had said—
What you did know and remember was that you were supposed to be smart and yet it had taken you an eternity to even notice you were facing your soulmate you had been probably spewing complete nonsense, you were now stammering like an idiot and for someone who had been worried, always, even if in the back of their mind, if their soulmate would find them good enough, you were generally making a bloody awful first impression.
But seriously, what had been your first words-
“You said you weren’t a doctor yet,” Captain Rogers reminded you, voice soft with affection of someone who had imagined hearing those words at least as many times as you had wondered about yours, hoping they would be pronounced by someone who’d respect you and cared about what kind of person you were, and would hopefully, eventually care for you. Loved you even. The tender way the syllables rolled of his tongue, spoken as if they tasted of honey, nearly chased fresh tears to your eyes. Alright, perhaps your first impression hadn’t been as bad as it appeared in your – albeit injured – head. “But if you really don’t remember saying that, that’s not a good sign. We need to get you medical attention. Come on. Hold on.”
Blinking slowly, still processing the light and yet suffocating feeling that found residence in your chest as it was starting to truly settle that this man, this painfully beautiful and criminally gentle man, was your soulmate, he was leaning closer to you, his hands guiding yours to wrap around his neck, a wordless order you had obediently followed, and then one of his arms was sliding under your knees and his other wrapping around the middle of your back.
And then your vertigo hit you anew because you were suddenly up in the air, hands gripping hard at anything you could reach – conveniently, the only thing was him, because he had lifted you upin his arms, some of your weight resting against his chest – despite the pain that shot up your left hand.
“Whoa-“ And then, because your memory did serve you at least a little: “You--- have been stabbed.”
“Shot,” he repeated patiently, fondly almost, and you did recall he had said that.
You recalled despite the scent of pleasant aftershave and peak man suddenly enveloping you as much as his arms and the firm armour – or perhaps that was the muscles underneath? And those pretty blue eyes were watching you with a glint of amusement and a surprising amount of affection for a guy saying he had been hit by a bullet, while effortlessly carrying the girl he had just met in his-- very, very strong, muscly arms and perhaps your head was not only spinning because of the sudden height you found yourself at.
…amusement? How was he amused? Was that-- was that a joke? Was he making fun of his bullet wound, playing it down?
“That’s… really not better.”
He grinned down at you as he made his way to the exit.
Walking. Watching you. Grinning and not even really looking where he was stepping.
Oh no.
Oh no, he was one of those people. You had met men like him at Operations, except for some reason – perhaps some sort of a soulmate telepathy – you had a feeling in him, that the peculiar recklessness many people from suffered, the disregard for their safety, because they could handle it, was dialled up to eleven in him. On a one to five scale. Because scaling mattered; you were a scientist. You’d know.
However, he did make it out of the laboratory without blowing anything up – perhaps at least that recklessness was balanced up by enhanced senses of a supersoldier and indeed, healing fast. And you hoped with your whole heart that walking out unscathed was a conscious effort, be it for him (somehow you doubted that) or for the cargo he was carrying (you had no doubt about that, not when he was looking at you like that). At least he had kept the helmet on; you were thankful for that, even as you’d love to see him without it.
See your soulmate.
You knew what he looked like everyone knew what he looked like. If they had missed the WW II. ed, they could barely miss the news about an alien invasion he had had a hand in stopping, the fall of majority of SHIELD, and other exciting horrifying news.
“I’ll be fine, doc. Now let’s get you away from exploding vials and lab equipment you could knock me out with. I’d rather be safe when I ask you out for dinner.”
You gulped, gripping him a bit tighter as a memory hit you – literally.
The PCR machine. You had done that. You had grabbed it and used it to smash into a HYDRA agent’s face, using the nearest improvised tool of defence. Jesus.
I really did that?
“You… saw that?” was what you asked instead, a few second ticking by as the rest of his words registered in your brain – and god, you really hoped your cognitive abilities would restore soon and the head injury had not caused permanent damage. “Oh.”
As much as your heart started pounding at that, a pleasant somersault in your stomach for a change, it was a little unfair to sort-of ask you when you were in your current predicament. Being carried like that, so close to him, so gentlemanly and tenderly handled despite your weight no doubt straining him, especially since he had been shot – grazed –, yoursenses wrapped in everything that was him and pulling you in, you were fairly certain you might say yes to just about anything he’d ask.
And not just because he was your soulmate.
Your soulmate carrying you in his arms, while wearing a very flattering suit of armour.
“If you’d like, of course,” he added with slight hesitance that only made your heart race further, because he was laying out his own heart for you already, expressive, genuine, and maybe sweetly handsy but not pushy despite his title and rank technically giving him every right to do whatever the hell he wanted. “But either way, I’ll save the real question for when I know you’re not suffering from a concussion. That sounds good?”
“Yes, Captain,” you replied dutifully. It did sound good, his consideration warming you from inside out. His voice sounded good too. “Sounds good to me.”
His smile was bright as the sun itself and basking in its light and warmth felt just as precious. Except he was to be your private sun forever shared with other to a point, but yours. Chosen by fate itself, defying all you had ever believed, beating time by decades, only so you could find each other.
“Looking forward to it, doc. Maybe I’ll get to know your name too while we’ll be at it,” he teased lightly, but without malice. “My name is Steve.”
Steve.
You knew that. You liked that.
Hand trembling a little, but not because you worried he’d drop you as you partly let go of his shoulders, you reached for the clasp on his helmet, a fluttery feeling in your chest eager to indeed see Steve rather than the Captain.
You felt your lips curl up and mirror his when he gave a tiny nod at your brief hesitation, your fingers finally undoing the strap and revealing his face with his help.
His hair was adorably ruffled, a slight shade of dust on his cheeks whispering of where the protective gear had been; but scientifically speaking, as well as speaking directly from heart, he was absolutely beautiful, his tender smile telling you he thought the very same about you.
He was meant to be yours; as you were meant to be his.
And you couldn’t wait to get to know him.
You could tell there were people around you and they were probably staring; but for the moment, you didn’t care at all. You had just met your soulmate.
And you weren’t even a doctor yet.
“It’s really nice to meet you, Steve. But I have to admit…” you said, teasing him with a pause, rewarded by his eyes earning a curious glint, “that the Doc nickname is kinda growing on me.”
Complete masterlist
Steve Rogers masterlist
Oh this feels like coming back to my roots 🤭 but hey, this challenge is a revival of all thigs good of the past, so why not go with the good old-fashioned soulmate meet-cute with a little angst beforehand, right?
AND BEHOLD I WROTE SOMETHING SHORTER THAN 10K. SHORTER THAN 8K ACTUALLY! It’s an extravaganza miracle 😂
Also. There might be some unrelated smut in the works, but I will not finish that today so... won't be part of the cum together extravaganza... ah well 🤭
Thank you for reading and potential feedback 💕
May the Fourth be with you and the rest of May be kind ✨
#CT 2024 raffle entry#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers x you#steve rogers#captain america#captain america x reader#captain america x you#captain america imagine#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers fluff#soulmate au#soulmate steve rogers#the unexpected#anika ann
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Heyyaaa
May I request dorm leaders finding out you’re a girl please? If it’s too much u can make a part 2
Dorm Leaders Find Out You're a Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)
TW: Mentions of transphobia (nothing awful, just literally dropping the word lol); Idia is creepy
Info: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Reader (Platonic or Romantic); Fluff, Comedy(?)
🍓This one is gonna be long, like 5.3k words long. I love writing the dorm leaders so damn much <3 Besides, there’s been a long wait for this one, so I hope I make it worth it! You might see some favoritism shine through, but I did my best to keep it even. Hope you all enjoy!
Tags: @kierancaz @danchann33 @arashrita @the-ace-reader @akiyamasmizuki @kitsun369 @bloomstruck (I think I got all of you)
First Years
Ortho Sebek
Second Years
Third Years
-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?
-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.
-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.
-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)
-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)
-So how do you two do it?
-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.
-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.
-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)
-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.
-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part.
-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.
-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.
-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.
-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!
-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.
-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…
-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.
-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).
-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.
-So… how do they find out?
Riddle
-Riddle is the last student in Heartslabyul to find out.
-It’s not like he did anything to you for you to hold off on telling him (you know, other than the whole almost killing you that one time thing), it’s just that you don’t feel inclined to tell him.
-Simple as that.
-He also really has no reason to question your gender.
-Riddle didn’t have must interaction with people his own age until he came to night raven college, he doesn’t have the same social ideologies as other people do.
-Nightraven college is really his first touch with society outside of his mothers very watchful, conservative eye.
-So, excuse him for not picking up on stupid little gendered norms that the other students do.
-In his eyes, you dress like a man, you act (sort of) like the other male students, and you prefer he/him pronouns.
-There’s nothing more to it then, right? If you identify as a man, he has no reason not to treat you as such - nor should he suspect you would hide your gender like that.
-Besides, this is an all boys school! Crowley wouldn’t allow you to attend here unless you were also a boy… right?
-He is aware there are exceptions — and you are already QUITE the exception, but surely Crowley wouldn’t be so cruel as to force a young woman to attend an all boys academy.
-Ah, sweet Riddle, ever in denial.
-He isn’t STUPID though. He notices how brotherly Trey is to you. He knows (and has heard) your many “secret sleepovers” with Cater.
-He ignores these things and doesn’t comment on them simply because, well, he likes you!
-He helps to tutor you sometimes, and he’s gotten to know you through that, and he really does come around on enjoying your presence.
-So, he ignores Trey and Cater’s odd behaviors for your sake.
-You keep him and his dorm members in high spirits, why would he want to shoo something like that away?
-He doesn’t really questionthings until he… overhears a conversation between Deuce and Ace. (A rather loud one, for how supposedly secret this topic was meant to be).
-One of them had gotten in trouble with a professor, and he was going to give them a stern scolding when he overheard what they were talking about.
-“Deuce, dude, you’re gonna want to sit down for this one.”
“What is it, I’m busy trying to finish my potionology homework.”
“Seriously this one is crazy, you’re not ready for for it.”
“Ace, if you’re just messing with me I’m going to leave.”
“Dude, the prefect is a girl.”
“…What?”
-Riddle did not bother the two after that. In fact, he just walked back to his room to sit and think about what he just overheard.
-It DID make sense. You didn’t quite fit in with everyone else for reasons outside of your otherworldly origin.
-You acted differently than the typical guy here at NRC, and you seemed to get along with the peers that were more ‘traditionally feminine’ best.
-It would explain Trey’s coddling and Cater’s secretiveness.
-Still, he didn’t want to assume. This was Ace and Deuce, and Ace could just be messing around with Deuce.
-So, at your next tutoring session, he broaches the subject as politely as possible.
-“So, prefect, I have… overheard something that I wanted to ask you about.”
“Oh no, am I in trouble because of Ace and Deuce again.”
“Not… technically… I did, however, overhear them talking about… you being a woman.”
“…I’m gonna kill them.”
“I could collar them for you, if that would help.”
-The confirmation was reassuring for Riddle in multiple ways.
-1) Ace isn’t as terrible of a person as the thought he was.
-2) He wasn’t crazy in noticing the slight differences in you and your other peers.
-Now, you and Riddle aren’t exactly super close by any means, so your interactions with each other are limited to when you’re either being tutored or with friends in Heartslabyul.
-However, he is notably more nervous than he usually is.
-He doesn’t have some super secret crush on your all of the sudden, he just… never really had a chance to interact with women before.
-His mom kept him very sheltered from the opposite gender, so he has little to no experience with them.
-On top of that, because of his mother, he does have a slight fear of women. He’s afraid he’s going to upset you and you’ll blow a fuse on him or something.
-You have to assure him that you don’t bite and you won’t suddenly start screaming at him for no reason, and then he begins to relax a bit.
-Still, he’s very sweet and gentlemanly to you.
-If you need help with anyone around campus, you should come to him and he will have them dealt with accordingly.
Leona
-Leona “Respects Women” Kingscholar.
-Leona has SLIGHTLY worse smell than Ruggie, but he also knew immediately upon your arrival that you were a girl.
-In fact, he knew you weren’t a trans man, because they smell distinctly different from the typical woman.
-There aren’t many trans people in the Savannah though, so Ruggie not being able to pick up on that doesn’t really shock him.
-Leona, however, has smelled and seen plenty of trans people in his life time — you aren’t one of them.
-He won’t lie, he’s definitely interested in you. Women where he comes from are big and strong and proud, you’re just kind of plain.
-He keeps his ever curious eye on you though, because he’s interested in how you might navigate this whole thing.
-Now don’t get it twisted, he doesn’t care about you, he’s curious about you.
-If you were to ask him for help on something, he wouldn’t offer it. (Not that you would, you seem particularly averse to him).
-However, if he were to see some creep trying to… well… creep on you, he’d chase them away without ever having you know he did.
-He was your secret bodyguard who wouldn’t admit it even if you held a knife to his throat.
-Still, he stayed out of your way and you stayed out of his.
-A symbiotic relationship that you weren’t even aware existed… until you got in his way.
-Like Ruggie, when you start getting a little too involved in his ahem business, he gets pretty damn annoyed.
-You’re not exactly a threat to start, but you are a little trouble maker. If you find out what he’s up to, you’ll ruin his plans completely, and he can’t have that.
-However, he’s not exactly comfortable “taking care of you” like he is his male peers.
-He respects women, okay, you can’t blame him for not wanting to purposefully hurt you. (If his mom and brother found out, he’d never hear the damn end of it)
-He sends out Ruggie to scare you off, explicitly telling him he can’t hurt you on purpose.
-He knows Ruggie already has an idea of what’s going on, so he doesn’t have any qualms with telling him to be careful with you.
-Still, despite all this, he doesn’t really broach the topic until he’s forced to.
-He’s made it known to you, at this point, that he knows your secret.
-He hasn’t caused you any extra trouble since his overblot, and he keeps his dorm members off your back, so you have no reason to interact with him… until, again, you get yourself into trouble.
-This time it’s YOU dragging him into your mess, despite him wanting nothing to do with it.
-You are convincing, though, so he gives and allows you to stay in his dorm room — rent free! Isn’t he so nice.
-Jack offers himself for protection if you need it, but you can see that Ruggie is quite bemused with the whole situation, so you decide to turn him down.
-Leona hasn’t tried anything yet, and he really could if he wanted to.
-You decide you can trust him. (You have to trust him).
-Then presents the issue of sharing a bed.
-Leona isn’t a weird pervert, okay. He isn’t absolutely leaping at the idea to be in bed with you — he’s so sorry.
-Honestly, it makes him a bit… uncomfortable.
-Sharing a bed is something you do with family or someone you’re involved with, not the weird magic-less kid who’s at least three years too young for you.
-So, Leona, ever the women’s rights activist, approaches you with a proposition.
-“Listen, I know you’re a woman and I know you know that. We’re not sharing a bed, there ain’t no way that’s happening.”
“Oh, so would you like the poor helpless homeless woman to sleep on the floor? How cruel can you be Leona.”
“Shut up, I’m not gonna do that to you. Listen, you can have the bed all to yourself and I’ll sleep on the couch, so long as you promise not to tell a single soul about this.”
“I promise.”
-You immediately tell Ruggie the next morning, and he is sure to make sure Leona never forgets it.
-Living with Leona for the short period of time that you do is very insightful!
-He’s actually pretty funny, much smarter than he lets on, and almost brotherly to you. Which does not fit the M.O. you built of him in your head.
-He’s gruff and pushy, but he does it out of genuineness.
-You end up getting really close to him because of it.
-His quiet and laid-back demeanor are a break from the chaos of everyone else on campus, and he doesn’t make a big deal out of anything so you can just complain and he nods along unbothered.
-Only thing you notice that upsets him is when you bring up guys who bother you.
-Those guys tend to stop bothering you shortly after. How strange…
Azul
-Azul is hands down the last person on campus you want knowing about this.
-Riddle, Ruggie, Trey, Cater and pretty much everyone with half a brain tell you to stay as far away from him as possible.
-You see him in the halls sometimes, and he doesn’t look to bad. Unapproachable, sure, but he’s a rather pretty guy. Well put together and seemingly very smart from what you’ve been told.
-He helped to subdue Grim in the opening ceremony, so you know he’s magically capable. He’s also a house warden, so that goes unspoken, I suppose.
-He seems interested in you, from what you can tell. He always waves at you when he does see you in a sort of fake friendly kind of way.
-You’ve seen him and his little (large, very large) goonies admiring ramshackle before.
-You’ve also politely asked them to not do that when you moved in, because it freaks you out a lot. To which they all gave you very eerie smiles and walked away.
-They remind you of a very small mafia, and you decided to heed your friends warnings because of that.
-You do so successfully for a long time too. Other than the few previously stated interactions, Azul seems un-inclined to bother you, and you don’t want to catch his leering eyes.
-Little do you know, Azul has a much more watchful eye on you that you initially thought.
-Sure, you don’t have much to offer him magic wise, but you have ramshackle. Oh, how he wants ramshackle.
-You are key to obtaining it, he just… has to find something on you first.
-You’re so painfully average. Perhaps a little more pretty in the face than his other peers, but you sacrifice that with the atrociousness of your uniform.
-Truly, nothing about you is different.
-He almost gives up until Grim delivers him an opportunity in a pretty little bow.
-You agree to his contract out of the goodness of your heart, just like he knew you would. So sweet and kind are you, to practically hand him the deed to ramshackle on a silver platter.
-He notices, however, that Jade grows a very… sudden fascination with you.
-Sure, he told both Jade and Floyd to keep and eye on you and keep you in like, but for Jade to be so interested… very odd.
-Then, shortly after, Floyd’s own interest is piqued. Alright… less odd than Jade, but to have both of their eyes on you must mean he’s missing something. (I know I previously said that Floyd found out after Azul, but I was stupid and wrong and you should never listen to me when I’m talking about Floyd).
-He tries to get it out of them by any means, Asking, blackmailing, manipulation. He really does try, but their lips are sealed tight.
-It frustrates him to no end that they know something he doesn’t, and that he can’t figure out this very big secret.
-It stumps him for so long, because he’s looking in all the wrong places for the answer.
-Meanwhile, you know that Jade and Floyd know and you are TERRIFIED waiting for Azul to use this against you.
-The suspense starts killing you and making you anxious enough that its affecting sleep, so you decide to bite the bullet and arrange a meeting with him.
-Azul is honestly delighted, because he was just going to outright force the truth from you at this point.
-“I’m glad you set up this meeting, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”
“I know… I’ve been pretty nervous about it since Jade and Floyd started pestering me.”
“Before I talk about what I want to, I’d like to hear what you have to say. I’m a good listener after all.”
“Too good, if you ask me. Uhm, anyway, so I know that Jade and Floyd to you that I’m a girl already, but I’m really hoping you would just leave me be. You owe me after all.”
“…You’re a girl?”
“Did they not tell you…?”
-what. What? WHAT?!?!?!
-How could he not tell, he feel so incredibly stupid. Its so obvious now that he thinks about it.
-No wonder Jade and Floyd wouldn’t stop teasing him about it.
-He agrees not to let the secret out — he DOES owe you his life, after all. This is a minor trade.
-However, he does not mentally recover from this revelation for a while.
-He doesn’t treat you very different, I suppose. He’s more gentlemanly with you, and is generally more friendly, but those things come from saving a persons life regardless.
-He is, surprisingly, willing to ensure your whole gender thing doesn’t get out so long as you work a few hours at the monster lounge.
-Probably the best at keeping it to himself and making sure it doesn’t get out. You wouldn’t expect any less with Azul, though.
Kalim
-You and Kalim don’t really have much of a chance to interact.
-He seems sweet enough, and you know he’s much kinder than the rest of the dorm leaders, but you don’t really have any reason to interact with him.
-Kalim also doesn’t think too much of you.
-You caused a ruckus at the entrance ceremony, that’s for sure, but you kinda blend into the background.
-Besides he’s a party animal — constantly hosting these huge parties at his dorm just because he can.
-As someone trying to keep out of trouble and hide such a huge secret… yeah, parties aren’t exactly your forte.
-So, when you get roped in to coming to Scarabia over winter break, Kalim is pleasantly surprised!
-He’s always excited to make a new friend, and you’re pretty infamous around school, so he’s extra excited to get to know you.
-Kalim has no reason to question anything about you, like most other people would.
-However, he isn’t stupid. He has plenty of younger sisters, and he picks up on social queues better than you’d expect.
-He definitely suspects something is off, but he figures you would tell him if something was up.
-You actually find him quite easy to be around. He’s someone who makes it easy to let your walls down and just relax with.
-Despite his sudden mood shifts, he always makes sure that you’re happy and healthy and doing the best you can be in your position.
-However, you run out of the magical potion that deepens your voice pretty quickly, and you have to go back to dramatically straining your voice.
-You sound sick, honestly, and it makes Kalim worry.
-He figures that you’re forcing yourself to deepen your voice so you’re still perceived as a man.
-Instead of asking you directly, as Kalim does, he goes to Jamil.
-“Jamil…”
“What do you need, Kalim?”
“Don’t you think somethings… off with the prefect?”
“Off? What are you talking about, nothings off with them.”
“No, I mean… do you think they might be… a girl?”
“…Kalim, that’s very rude to say. You need to be more respectful.”
“…You’re right, I’m sorry. Could we get him something to soothe his voice though, it sounds rough.”
-Kalim is a lot more watchful of you after that. He just… knows something is wrong, but he doesn’t want to be rude.
-It’s actually you who comes to him when no one is around for help.
-“Kalim, uhm, I need your help.”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“So, I’m pretty sure you know, but I’m not a guy… I’m a girl, and I really need help hiding it. The longer I’ve been here, the harder it’s been on me.”
-Sweetheart he is, he promises to both help you and keep your secret to himself — and he does both surprisingly well!
-He offers his private bathroom to you so you can shower in peace.
-It’s honestly the best bath you’ve ever had with all his sweet smelling oils. Your skin feels so smooth and renewed.
-Still, even with this, you still don’t feel safe with anyone else — plus the fact that Kalim has random and horrifying mood shifts. You have to flee.
-And yet you still get dragged into more trouble with the octatrio. You still get exposed to the whole dorm by a crazed Jamil, and now have to deal with the horror that they’ll tell everyone.
-Kalim feels awful, and thus shows his forgiveness in the best way he can: giving gifts.
-You get tons of apology gifts from him in the coming months. Baskets of the best shower stuff you’ve ever had; a new, better fitted but still innocuous uniform; enough tuna to keep grim satisfied for years (and sweets that you happily keep to yourself).
-It’s so nice, but you start to feel bad. It feels like you’re taking advantage of his guilt, when you’re not really upset at anyone involved anymore.
-You’re welcome at Scarabia any time. None of his dorm members will ever cause you any trouble, and you can dress and act and sound however you want within Scarabia’s walls.
Vil
-Miss beauty queen himself. We love Vil, we Stan Vil, we adore Vil…
-Oh my god he’s a pain in the ass though, especially for you.
-He sees through you in an instant.
-Truly, Vil finds you to be more of a little pest than anything.
-You are constantly in trouble, you are magic less, and you decided to needlessly hide your gender.
-The last one is the worst offense in his eyes.
-Vil is someone who does not value gender, but expression. Your gender does not matter as much as your expression, therefore you hiding your expression irks him.
-He’s understanding enough in the fact that he knows you might be doing this to protect yourself, but he finds it stupid and useless, because you’re easy to see through.
-He avoids you, and you avoid him. Simple as that.
-Unfortunately for Vil, you’ve caught Rook’s eye, which means he must sit through many hours of Rook rambling on about his “findings” about you.
-When you tried out for the VDC, he was simply going to turn you and Grim away, but Rook convinced him to give you a chance.
-Rook wanted him to help your reveal your “inner beauty”, though Vil wasn’t sure if you had any of that.
-You wore baggy, horrifically ugly clothing up until winter break. Your hair was constantly a mess. Your skin was poorly taken care of, and the bags under your eyes were as dark as night.
-It almost made him feel bad for you… so despite his better judgement, he decided to invest time in you.
-Vil makes it very clear that he knows what your whole secret is.
-“I am aware of the fact that you are a woman, however, I will continue to use your preferred pronouns since it seems to bring you comfort.”
-He’s very insistent that you allow him to do your skincare AND your makeup whenever you give him the chance.
-Especially when he moves into ramshackle temporarily, he’s very insistent on maintaining your skincare routine.
-He essentially makes your entire nightly routine himself, and is right there over your shoulder making sure you do it right.
-Despite how overbearing it is, you actually make good friends with him through this.
-Being stuck alone in a room with no one but him to talk to forces you two to talk.
-You get to learn why he cares so much about appearances, and he gets to know why you hide to protect yourself.
-“It’s just… easier to pretend, because guys will bother me less that way.”
“I can’t understand why they would bother you. You’ve done nothing to them, so why would they want to do anything to you.”
“That’s the thing, I don’t know either. I just know it’s scary, and I don’t want to deal with it.”
-You move him, honestly. You’re strong even though you’re scared, and that’s beautiful. Thats what true beauty is.
-He helps you embrace your inner self and express that, while still helping you to hide your gender in a way that feels safe.
-You are always welcome at Pomefiore, and you can come to either him or Rook if you have any issues at all.
-It’s like having a big sister, almost.
Idia
-Idia has eyes everywhere.
-Every inch of that campus is (illegally) being monitored by his watchful eyes.
-When he’s bored in class, he flicks through the cameras to amuse himself — maybe he’ll see someone slip and fall on their ass. That would be funny.
-He’s not really interested in you in particular.
-In fact, he’d like to keep a very far distance between the two of you.
-You’re… intimidating. You’ve fought some of the most powerful mages on campus and won.
-Total final boss energy, not something Idia is interested in being around.
-What he IS interested in is that wittle kitty you’ve got following you around.
-When he’s bored in class, he goes searching for Grim, and where Grim is you are sure to be.
-So, despite his aversion to you, he ends up spending a lot of time watching you.
-He starts to notice… things about you.
-He notices that you seem to put on a tough guy persona around… well… other guys in your class.
-When it’s just you and Grim though? You’re the softest softie he’s ever seen.
-It’s top tier cringe watching you try to being all macho, so he much prefers your more quiet and relaxed self you show in private.
-Seriously though, you’re a TOTALLY DIFFERENT PERSON when you’re alone with certain people.
-EVEN YOUR VOICE CHANGES!!!
-It’s so uber creepy, it’s like a jumpscare every time you drop that fake deep voice.
-If he’s being real, you’ve got a pretty voice. Honestly, you’re really pretty period. Too pretty to be a guy honestly.
-…
-….
-…..HOLY SHIT!!!
-He has to check your medical files to be sure — which he obviously has access to, thanks to having access to everything Ortho has access to.
-Blah blah blah allergies, blah blah blah horrific injuries from overblots, blah blah blah- AH HAH!
-Next to gender you are listed as… transgender man.
-He doesn’t wanna be that weird transphobic incel, but from what he’s seen? He highly doubts that.
-From what he’s seen in his (invasive) watching, you’re definitely doing the troupe of hiding your gender to better fit in.
-He feels like he’s in an anime or something.
-He doesn’t really want to bother you about it — but from watching you, you seem like someone he’d really enjoy being around.
-Ortho also insists that he’d get along with you very well!
-…It’s worth a shot right.
-He tries several times to “bump” into you, which always ends in him skittering away in fear.
-He psyches himself out every time. “They wouldn’t even wanna hang out with a loser like me.” “They’re way too cool for someone as lame as me.”
-It’s not until you invite yourself to one of tabletop club’s meetings that he’s forced to interact with you.
-He’s really banking on the fact that you’ll be too busy talking with Azul to notice him, but then Azul leaves and its just you and him.
-Him and you…
-Both of you… in total and complete silence.
-…yep…
-“Uhm, Idia…?”
“yES!?”
“I came here cause I wanted to talk to you, sorry for being so underhanded about it, I just couldn’t get you alone without you running off.”
“AH— I mean, ahem, okay. My bad.”
-You totally cornered him like an evil villain.
-All because you wanted to… be his friend?
-Is he dreaming, going insane perhaps, did HE get isekaied into an alternate universe where he was likable???
-Nope, Ortho just talks him up a lot, and you think his hair is cool. Huh. Kinda lame compared to what he was thinking.
-You guys talk a LOT after that. You exchange numbers and you text him about all sorts of stuff — and he’s actually interested in it!
-You learn that he’s been watching you and Grim for a long time, and while you scold him.
-You think it’s pretty funny that he’s embarrassed about his love for cute things.
-“If you’ve been keeping your eye on me for so long, you must’ve figured out that I’m a girl, right?”
“Yeah, you’re not great at hiding it. That macho guy act is suuuuper lame, you look like a noob lol.”
“Hey! I’m just copying what Deuce told me to do!”
-You guys don’t really see each other face to face very often, but like I said you text a lot.
-Sometimes he’ll text you shit like ‘I saw that, saved it for blackmail.’ After you biffed your shit on the pavement or something.
-When Idia gets more comfortable, you two spend hours on call whenever you get the chance.
-He lends you some of his precious manga, and even gives you an older TV he had laying around so you can watch stuff at ramshackle.
-Sometimes he invites you over to play video games with him and Ortho, and he gets all cocky and proud when you gush about how cool all his tech is.
-And, yeah, Idia definitely forms a little crush on you — but he would do that regardless of your gender.
-He just likes you a lot, and you can feel safe on campus knowing he’s watching over you when you need it. (Mostly watching Grim, tbh.)
Malleus
-We know that Malleus enjoys… creeping outside of Ramshackle.
-He spends quite a lot of time on your front lawn, therefore, he’s usually in proximity of you.
-However, he is very intimidating!
-As a young woman in a magical world that you are not from, a very tall man with horns is the exact opposite of what you want to be around.
-Besides, you’ve heard the rumors about him — how powerful he is, and how scary he is.
-Malleus, on the other hand, is admittedly curious about you.
-He finds humans in their own right incredibly interesting, but you are not just a regular human.
-You are a human who has no magic and is from another world entirely.
-You are something he has never once seen in his whole life, so excuse his childish curiosity.
-Still, you’re sort of cleverly avoiding him at every chance you get, and he just can’t quite find the time to talk to you.
-Until one night, you come back rather late and you find him in your yard… again.
-You send Grim in by himself and decide to confront him by yourself, because you are tired of being afraid to fall asleep at night.
-“Hey, you, could you maybe not stare at my house in the middle of the night!”
-Oh. You are quite feisty, and very bold to approach Malleus Draconia with such an aggressive tone.
-“I’m unsure what you mean, I’m simply admiring the architecture.”
“I don’t care WHAT you’re doing, you’re freaking me out! I know you’re supposedly some big scary monster guy, but I need you to STOP being weird outside my house.”
“…My apologies…”
-Malleus is pleasantly surprised at your spunk — he’s never been spoken to like that, he’s excited by it.
-After you yell at him, you let him explain himself, and you realize he is just… really, really bad at socializing.
-He wasn’t watching you, he just really enjoys silence and ramshackle is the quietest place on campus — even with you living in it.
-So, you give him the benefit of the doubt, because he really does just seem like he’s lost on everything around him 90% of the time.
-You don’t hang out with him during the day, but if you happen to see him on your lawn (as he usually is), you go out and hang out with him for a while.
-It makes Malleus happy, because you treat him like a friend. You give him cute nicknames, and you invite him inside for snacks, and you go out of your way to say hello to him when you pass him in the halls.
-He also gets to know more about you, and his curiosities about you and your world get quelled.
-He doesn’t really question anything about you, especially not your gender.
-Gender is hardly important for fae, and you seem confident in your expression, so he has no reason to wonder. Besides, there are far more thrilling things about you than your sex.
-So, you and Malleus start to grow close. So close, in fact, that you can confidently say that he’s one of your closest friends.
-At this point, almost everyone who you want to know about your gender knows. Everyone but Malleus.
-Initially you kept it a secret because you didn’t know how good he was at not talking, but now…
-Now, well, you don’t really have a reason.
-People usually question you at this point, or at least seem suspicious, but Malleus?
-Malleus shows not a hint that he thinks something is up. It’s odd to you, isn’t he supposed to be super smart or something. Maybe he’s just too respectful.
-Regardless, you decided to talk to him about it the next time you see him staring at the gargoyles around campus.
-“Hey Tsunotaro, what’re you up to?”
“Just admiring these gargoyles here, aren’t they fascinating? They were the first few installed in the school, if my memory serves me correctly.”
“They are very cool, but could I ask you something not gargoyle related?”
“What is it, child of man?”
“You know that I’m, uhm, a girl right?”
“Oh. I did not know that, how interesting.”
-He doesn’t understand why you would hide that, but it doesn’t really perturb him that much.
-The most you got was an eyebrow raise, and then he was back to his gargoyles.
-You were pretty satisfied with that, so you figured he wouldn’t tell anyone… and then you hear him loudly talking about it with his friends in Diasomania.
-Sigh… he means well, but he just doesn’t get the social stuff.
-You’re not mad, because pretty much everyone knows at this point, but it still sucks that he’s such a loudmouth.
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My Charming Red Savior [2]
・❥ Two odd visitors and a mugging. Can’t you stay out of trouble?
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
x: he’s back!! a little longer this time, 8k words. enjoy!
That evening after meeting Alastor, you sat at your friend’s dining table, your mind racing.
Your finger aimlessly twisted that gold ring he had magically placed on your digit, as you explained what happened. The creep harassing you, Alastor swooping in to save you. All of it laid out for your friend to digest. Which she wasn’t taking it very well.
“I mean, I'm glad that demon helped you out of that, but you should have gotten away as soon as possible! Haven’t you heard what he’s done, what kind of deals people have made with him?”
You sighed, feeling a bit frustrated with your friend's skepticism. "Look, I get it, you're worried. But Alastor isn't what everyone makes him out to be. He helped me when I needed it most. Besides, who are we to judge someone solely based on rumors?"
Your friend leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the ring adorning your finger. "What about that? What if it's some sort of trap he set for you?"
You instinctively pulled your hand back, a protective gesture. "Don't be ridiculous. Alastor wouldn't do something like that. He's... different."
"Different? More like dangerous," she countered, reaching out to grab your hand. "Come on, let me see that ring. We can take it to someone to see if it’s been magically altered."
Dangerous? He saved you from someone dangerous! Yes, he was a demon. A sinner, who probably did some bad things, and most likely continues to do bad things. Except, for the fact he didn’t leave you, a defenseless nobody, to be taken off and.. you couldn’t even think about it.
You jerked your hand away from her hand, the ring glinting in the lamplight. "There’s nothing wrong with the ring, you’re just being paranoid. It’s.. comforting, actually."
Your friend sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "I just don't want to see you get hurt. Please, at least consider what I'm saying."
You softened, realizing she was only looking out for you. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But I’m not a child, I can make my own decisions."
Your friend relented after a moment, sinking back into her chair. She nodded slowly, agreeing with your statement.
At that moment, your friend’s husband had entered the room. A large pot of steaming foodstuff in his oven-mitt protected hands as he walked.
“I hope you guys are hungry!” He said cheerfully, the tension in the room easing with his upbeat demeanor. You quite liked him, he had some good jokes and cared about those around him.
You smile gratefully, welcoming the distraction from the intense conversation. “Absolutely starving,” you reply, grateful for the opportunity to shift the focus to something more light-hearted.
Your friend’s husband sets the pot on the table, filling the room with the delightful aroma of home-cooked food. “Well, dig in!” he encourages, serving everyone generous portions.
As you take a bite, the flavors dance on your palate, and your eyes light up as you eat.
“What is this?” You turn to her husband, who looked up from his bowl, face stuffed with food.
“Crawfish Étouffée! A popular dish from New Orleans, back on Earth. Do you like it?”
You nodded vigorously. Is this what Jambalaya tastes like? If so, you really needed to try it. Maybe, you’d see Alastor again, and he could give you that recipe he had mentioned?
As your thoughts drifted back to the red demon, your finger began to twist the ring around your digit once more. Why did it bring you such comfort? You had no idea.
Sometimes, if you put your hand to your face, you could smell faint traces of his scent, that you had first memorized when you walked side by side with him. It smelled like an old cologne, something that you couldn’t quite recognize from your days. Maybe, it was back when he was alive?
Lemony, hay-like and grassy. A whiff of licorice. Something peppery too? You couldn’t quite place it. But every deep inhale sent you into a lull. A trance, almost.
Your finger still mindlessly caressed the golden band a while later, during the early hours of the morning. You had been sweeping the front doors to the formalwear store you worked at, tidying up before it would be opened for customers.
It wasn’t until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, did you get pulled back into reality.
“Pardon me, miss. Are you guys open?”
Turning around to address the voice, you find no one. It wasn’t until you looked down did you see the demon man. He resembled that of an imp. Dark red skin with thin, striped horns that peaked out of the top of his head.
He wore a white turtleneck, with long white hair that curled around his chin. His eyes were unreadable, hidden behind a pair of sunglasses. They were Ray-Burn glasses. You could immediately tell from the bridge, which were curved to resemble a half-circle rather than an oval.
You also knew how high-end that brand was, and it wasn’t easy getting a pair either. The wait for those was no joke. And, this style was from their newest collection, which meant that he had to be of some importance to get one so soon.
His posture also struck you as odd, especially for an imp. He stood tall, shoulders back, head held high. Despite being a part of one of the lowest social classes in Hell, the demon regarded everyone and everything around him with an air of confidence and assertiveness.
It was also odd that he was wearing sunglasses so early in the morning, there wasn’t really much light to need protection from. Maybe he had some bat genetics in him?
You smiled at him, but shook your head. “I’m sorry, sir. We’re closed right now. You’ll have to come back later.”
The imp visibility deflated at your words, a frown etched on his face. You could see his eyes through the shades just enough to show them flicking down the streets.
“Oh, okay. That’s fine, I guess. Thanks, I'll just.. have to figure something else out.”
He backed away, as he scanned the nearby stores again. He muttered to himself, too quiet for you to hear, but his tone sounded scolding. As if he was berating himself. The demon bit his lip, as if he was contemplating something.
A pang of sympathy hit you, as you watched him become more anguished. It seemed like he really needed whatever was inside, and you didn’t have a reason to deny him business other than to follow the official hours of operation.
Placing the broom against the brick wall, you pulled out a set of keys. The demon turned slightly as he heard its jingle, and you met his shaded gaze.
“There isn’t really anything else I need to do before opening though, so I suppose it’s not a big issue letting you inside.”
The imp perked, a smile blooming on his lips at your words. You bent to turn the lock with a click. Pulling the door handle, you pulled it behind you, allowing the demon to follow you inside.
“That is so kind of you! Truly, you don’t get to meet many kind and considerate people in this place.”
Well, it was Hell. Being friendly to strangers was not a common occurrence. You just weren’t one of the, well, bad ones. Sure, you had some flaws, you weren’t a resident for no reason. But, you prided yourself in having a reasonable moral code.
“Don’t worry, I know what I need. I’ll be quick!” The imp promised, as he passed through the entryway. The large room was dark, besides the morning light casting through the windows.
You flicked on the lights, and the overhead lamps lit the interior of the store. There were mannequins lining the dark-blue walls, styled in different tuxedos and dress shirts. Next to them were rows of shelves, each specific to a type of garment. There were dress pants, vests, shoes, and smaller accessories like ties and belts.
As you walked behind the black-granite countertop, the imp had hurried over to a mannequin facing out of a glass display. He reached down near its feet, a small shelf lifted from the floor. A pile of red suits was neatly tucked next to the display.
Gingerly, he lifted to the top piece, examining it thoroughly. After a few moments, he brought it closer to his chest, before turning to you. Your hands tapped against the display of the digital cash register, readying it for service.
You looked up just as he placed the garment on the counter, your eyes scanning the suit. Strange, he was still wearing those shades. You simply smiled at him, before pulling the item closer to you. Carefully, you unfolded it, examining its form.
It was a beautiful red tuxedo, with golden lapels. Dark-red buttons, with white cuffs. It was a women’s suit, which was rare for you to see, since the store mostly marketed towards men.
“What a wonderful piece!” You exclaimed, your tone dripping with customer-satisfying professionalism. “Getting this for a special someone?”
The imp nodded. “For my daughter. She runs a hotel a few blocks away, up the hill. The Hazbin Hotel, if you've heard of it? She needed a new suit, and this was the perfect fit.”
The hotel that was supposed to help sinners with redemption? You’ve heard bits and pieces, mostly when you watched that disastrous interview with Katie Killjoy. You couldn’t recall who ran it, though.
“A little, but you sure do have an eye for style!” You nodded, grabbing the small tag from the sleeve to input the information into the register.
“Well, it was my sweetheart who picked it out first,” the imp gushed, “I can’t take all the credit, I'm not good at these sorts of things, anyway.”
“Do they have a background in fashion?”
“No, they’re an artist,” the demon beamed, his voice growing softer as he spoke of his lover, “I can promise, you’ve never seen a real painting until you’ve seen theirs. If it were my way, I'd fill every billboard with them, instead of those.. repulsive pornography ads they have downtown.”
The imp held a look of pride and admiration as he spoke, obviously having full confidence in his claim. You pulled up the item on your screen, and read him the price. It was not a cheap suit, but the demon had no reaction to the total and simply pulled out his wallet.
“Is business running smoothly at the hotel? Do you guys get a lot of guests?”
The imp contemplated for a moment, before pulling out a large sum of money, placing it gently on the counter. You reached for it, before licking your finger and counting through the bills.
“Not entirely. It just opened recently, and, with the demons it caters to? Hah, there’s not many around here with the mindset of redemption. But, I'm going to be helping her out, supporting her with the work.”
What a nice father, helping his daughter out like that. If only someone like that had helped you when you were younger, maybe you would be stu-
“Especially when it comes to keeping an eye on some of the.. colorful characters she calls staff. Like that Radio Demon.” As the imp spoke, you could hear the disdain in his tone, as he uttered that name. Your head shot up from the bills in your hand at his words.
Radio demon? Alastor? Alastor was working at the Hazbin Hotel?
“As in, the tall red guy with deer antlers? Carries a staff around with a microphone on it?” You questioned him, excitement lacing your voice.
“Yes. Do you know him? Word of advice, stay away from that demon. He’s nothing but a self-serving, pompous show-off.”
That couldn’t be true, could it?
Quickly, you placed the bills into the cash register, pulling out change to hand to the imp. As he took the money in your hand, you found it right to defend Alastor.
“He helped me out of a tough spot awhile ago, practically saved my life, actually.”
The demon regarded you for a moment, eyebrows raised as he took in your words. He didn’t argue, seemingly trying to leave as fast as possible. Back to the hotel presumably. “Hmph. Well, just be careful, you never know with demons like him.”
You were about to wish him farewell and turn away, before his hand lifted once more. Looking down, he held another stack of money in his hands, you could faintly read ‘100’ on one of the bills alone.
“For your kindness,” the demon stated simply, giving you a wink, “I enjoyed our short chat, there’s not many people down here I'm interested in talking to. Go treat yourself.”
Your eyes widened at his words. How did he have so much money he could just.. give it away?! You almost wanted to reject his offering. But, money was money, so you took them from his grip.
“I-I don’t know what to say, but thank you! This is very generous of you.”
He only shrugged, sending you a charming smile. “I am indeed a very generous person. Just don’t spend it on drugs, or anything like that.”
As you handed him the small pink bag, his shaded gaze landed on the ring on your finger, and he leaned in just an inch to get a closer look.
“Boy, that is a fine piece of jewelry you’ve got there! Very nice, was it from a lover? It really makes a statement! Just curious.. do you by any chance know where you got it from?”
You tilted your head, wondering why he wanted to know, was he planning on getting one himself? You just shook your head, you couldn’t really tell him it magically poofed onto your finger by the same demon he held negative feelings for.
He nodded, muttering something like ‘that’s fine’, before pivoting away from you towards the door.
“Adios!” He called, a hand in the air in farewell as he strolled to the exit. The bell above the door jingled as it closed behind him, and you saw him step near the curb, away from your view.
Suddenly, a flash of gold illuminated the small window on the door. Crossing the room, you peeked out the large display window. There was no one on the street, even when you cranked your head to both sides of the street. It’s like he just.. vanished. Strange.
You flipped the large sign on the window from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’ before returning behind the counter. Your fingers still holding the money he gave you, your mind elsewhere as you waited for the day to begin.
Your thoughts were still on that encounter when the assistant manager walked up to you a few hours later. He was a rather short, plump man with small horns protruding from his head. His skin was a pale blue, his figure resembling that of an ox. Alan was his name.
You weren’t very fond of him, he always threw flirtatious comments and jokes at you. Always insisting to join you behind the counter, or lean right over your shoulder when you worked. He reminded you too much of that creep from the streets, which made you uncomfortable.
What was up with you always attracting the questionable suitors? Maybe your friend at the cafe was right, you weren’t going to find ‘The One,’ you’d just have to settle for less.
Alan would always try and pry into your personal life, asking if you had a lover, or kids. You’d simply change the conversation as smoothly as possible. If you told him we’re single, he’d no doubt try and court you. Which made you nervous, he didn’t seem like someone who could take a rejection.
You weren’t able to say, ‘why yes, I have a hubby of my own!’ because you never had proof. Without a ring, and the rest of your co-workers aware of your singlehood, you knew lying to him would have consequences.
Not to mention, he was your boss. He had power, and unless you wanted to end up homeless on the street, you had to keep a friendly facade with him.
Luckily, he wasn’t around much. Except today your manager had meetings out of town, and he was the substitute. So, for now, you were stuck with him.
“Hey, you still know how to use that sewing machine in the back, right?” He asked you after you had finished assisting a customer near the large display window.
You nodded, curious about his question. In truth, being a tailor sounded much better than working for customer service. You had spent late nights slowly practicing the craft, on that ancient sewing machine in your basement. Maybe, you’d use that money the imp gave you to buy a new one.
“Well, Darlene just called in, which means I got no one as my seamstress. We’ve got a few pieces in need of mending, you think you can handle that?”
“Oh, sure! I can do that, no problem.”
It was then you heard the bell above the front entrance jingle slightly and the creak as the door opened, which caused you to turn sharply to greet the newcomer. Except.. there was no one there.
That was strange. There were other customers milling about, but you were standing in a position that made it impossible to miss anyone exiting the building.
“Must be having strong winds or something.” Alan remarked, and you turned back to him. As you moved, you noticed the corner next to the doorway was more shaded than usual. As if a large black shadow had taken residence there. Perhaps an overhead light went out? You’d have to check on that later.
“Anyway, I wanted to ask you something,” Alan started, a flirtatious smile on his lips as he lowered his voice, “I’ve got VIP access to a new club that just opened a few blocks down. I was thinking you and I could get some drinks and have a little fun, whatcha say?”
You groaned internally. Not this again. How were you going to say no this time?
“Well, I mean, um- you see the thing is…”
Your eyes went down to the ring on your digit, that little A shimmering in the light. Maybe, you could use this.
“… I’m already taken!” You exclaim, your hand shooting up to give Alan a front row seat at the prize on your person.
“You are?” He asked incredulously.
“Mhm!” You nod your head vigorously. “As you can see, this is my wedding ring. I eloped not too long ago, hence why it’s not common knowledge.”
Hopefully, he would buy your lie.
Alan stood there, his eyes flicking from you to the ring. Was he going to try and fight your claim? It seemed like he wanted to. Before you even gave him the chance to, you whipped towards the door being the counter to start mending.
You had only used the machine in the back a handful of times, but you were trying to become more familiar with it. Nodding, you quickly slipped into the back room. The hum of the old sewing machine greeted you like an old friend as you fired it up and began to mend the pieces in need of repair.
The rhythmic clacking of the needle against fabric filled the air as you lost yourself in the task at hand, the radio beside you playing soft old-timey melodies in the background. You continued this calm pace for a few hours, thankful to be away from Alan and the bustling state of the store.
Until a familiar static-laced voice broke through the music.
“Hello, sir! My, what a hellish morning it is!”
Your foot instantly moved off the pedal nestled under the table, the vibrations from the machine ceasing as it stilled. You strained your ears, is that who you thought it was?
“Oh, why hello there! How can I assist you today?” You heard the loud, boisterous voice of Alan as he welcomed the newcomer. Quickly, you left your seat, and peaked through the small crack in the doorway.
Your breath quickened as your eyes landed on the tall, red demon. Alastor. How did he get in here? You didn’t hear the loud bell jingle at his entrance.
He sported his usual red coat, with his staff resting lazily in his grip as he stood before the demon. He had a large smile on his face, but his eyes spoke differently. He looked absolutely bored, disinterested in the man before him and his surroundings.
“I’m simply here to adjust some wear-and-tear on my suit,” he remarked, “as you can see, my sleeve has taken quite the nasty wound.”
He lifted up his arm, displaying a tiny piece of missing fabric from the cuff. It was a clean slice, as if someone had taken a knife and barely nicked it. Nasty wasn’t exactly how you’d describe it, more like itty bitty.
“If I may..” Alan leaned in slightly, reaching out to inspect the tear.
Alastor only pulled his arm back, rejecting the gesture with a subtle yet firm movement.
“I prefer to handle my own attire, thank you,” Alastor stated, his voice carrying a hint of disdain as he withdrew his sleeve from Alan’s reach. His smile widened further, as he stared at the demon.
Your boss recoiled slightly, taken aback by Alastor’s abrupt refusal. “Oh, of course. My apologies,” he stammered, attempting to regain her composure, “but not to worry, sir! We’ve got fabrics that match and a seamstress to do the work. Let me go grab her for you, I'll be right back!”
You saw Alan turn in your direction, and you backed away from the door. Your heart raced as you realized you were going to actually be face to face with Alastor again. How would he react to your presence?
You shot into your seat, spinning around towards the machine. You stepped on the pedal, and the machine hummed to life once more. The door opened, and Alan poked his head in.
“Hey, there’s a customer who needs some assistance. Get out here.”
His head disappeared from view, leaving you alone once more. Exhaling a large breath to ease your nerves, you rose from your seat. Quickly, you walked over to the door and gripped the handle tightly. Another deep breath, and you pulled it open gingerly before taking a step outside.
Your boss was back beside Alastor, who towered over the man. As you slowly entered the room, Alastor’s eyes moved to you. They lit up with interest, the smile seeming to shrink slightly. The crooked edges on his smile softened too, appearing more genuine as he regarded you.
“Ah, there you are, my dear! I was hoping to find you here.” Alastor called to you. He stepped right past Alan, completely ignoring his presence as he strode up to you.
As he closed the distance, you became awfully aware of how fast your heart was beating inside your chest. That smell of lemons and licorice hit your nose as he stood before you, and it eased your nerves as you took a quick inhale of breath.
He turned, allowing Alan to see both of your faces as he slowly reached out to take your hand. His thumb gently grazed against the gold band and it spun slightly. Your breath hitched at his touch.
“It is so nice to be able to visit my dear wife at her place of work,” Alastor started, his gaze shooting to Alan as he spoke, “and, to meet her lovely coworkers! A pleasure indeed.”
Did he hear you telling Alan about your ring? He couldn’t have, but there seemed to be no other reason for him to bring up the whole marriage farce.
Alastor turned back to you, finger still softly caressing your hand as he turned his attention to his sleeve.
“It appears I’ve gotten into another miscommunication with an overly confident adversary, similar to what I spoke to you about before. Would you care to assist me, my love?”
Your eyes momentarily snapped to Alan, who had turned a paler shade as he watched Alastor’s actions. Now, he was finally seeing who your ‘husband’ was. It appeared to be quite a shocker for the demon.
Your gaze flicked back to Alastor, who stood next to you. That grin of his hiding whatever emotions he was feeling as he slowly released your grip, indicating for you to lead him away.
“Thank you for coming to visit, Alastor. I can stitch that up for you, you’ll just need to let me take it for a bit.” You smiled at him, doing your best to play the part with professionality. What, were you supposed to just start calling him pet names like ‘honey’ and ‘babe’?
“I think I'd prefer keeping it on.” Alastor said curtly, adjusting his collar.
He wanted to still be wearing it while you fixed it? That meant you couldn’t use the sewing machine, without risking injury to him.
“… I suppose you can just follow me, then.” You replied, turning away as you beckoned him towards the back room.
Alan didn’t follow the two of you, maybe Alastor’s comments threw him off. You hoped they did, you had enough of that guy for one day.
You opened the dark gray door, pulling it wide so Alastor could follow behind. The back room was a cozy nook from the busy establishment, half of it transformed into a makeshift tailoring nook. A small step stool nestled among tall mirrors allowed a multi-angle look for customers getting a fitting.
Rolls of fabric lined orderly shelves nearby, accompanied by an array of sewing essentials. In the corner, a small table and chair housed the ancient sewing machine. You walked forward, before realizing
“Oh, i’m sorry, I don’t have another chair. Let me go get one!” You pivoted to go find a spare, but Alastor only lifted his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt.
“Not to worry, my dear! I’ve got it under control.”
He reached a hand forward, gripping the air like he was grabbing the top of the backrest of a chair. He tugged at the air, and a plume of green smoke wafted from his fingertips as he pulled a wooden chair from the smoke.
You stared, mesmerized as he dragged it next to your seat. He gingerly lowered himself, and plopped into the chair. That had to be powerful magic, for him to be able to produce such an object easily from thin air. Just like he did with the seasoning.
Quickly, you gathered the necessary essentials to begin fixing his garment. A couple of needles, some dark red thread, and multiple fabrics that you seemed the closest to his suit’s color.
While you collected the items in a small bin, Alastor sat comfortably behind you. His nails clicking against his cane rhythmically as the music from the radio filled the room.
He hummed softly along to the melody, obviously familiar with the tune playing. You had heard it before, a classic rendition of ‘Once In A While’ by Lennie Hayton. It was a softer tune, and an orchestral piece that allowed you to drift into a comfortable lull.
As you carried the bin back to your seat, you nestled in beside him. There was a small distance between the two of you, your knees a few inches from grazing each other.
“May I?” You asked, holding out your hand to take his sleeve. You thought Alastor was going to react negatively to the gesture, like he did with Alan. Instead, he carefully reached out his arm, allowing you to pull his sleeve down to the surface of the table.
You tried very hard not to touch his skin, as you adjusted the tear on his cuff to face you. Grabbing a few pieces of fabric, you began to hold them next to his sleeve, attempting to find the perfect match.
“So, what happened this time? Surely, not that snake demon from before.” You spoke, trying to spark conversation with your ‘husband’.
“Ha, I’m glad you do remember our last conversation! I was worried you'd forgotten as the days went by.” Alastor started, sinking deeper into his seat. He placed his cane against the table,
‘Of course, I'd remember,’ you thought, ‘I can’t get you out of my head, no matter how I try.’
“I had found myself in a rather lively discussion with a particularly vexing imp. Tiny thing, but full of mischief and malice. Managed to get itself tangled in my grip during our little altercation.” He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I must say, it put up quite the fight for something no larger than a rat. But fear not, I emerged victorious, albeit with a few battle scars.”
Alastor gestured towards the tear on his sleeve, his eyes sparkling with amusement. You smiled at his words, a small chuckle coming from your throat as you pulled another piece of fabric to his cuff.
Finally, you found the color that matched his attire, and you carefully began cutting a large piece from the roll.
“I’m going to have to hand sew your tear, is that okay?”
“Of course, my dear! Just try not to poke me, hm?”
You nodded with a smile, before plucking the small needle from the table.
With nimble fingers, you carefully align the edges of the fabric, pinching them together to ensure a snug fit. Holding the needle firmly between your thumb and forefinger, you begin to weave the thread in and out with practiced precision, creating neat, tiny stitches along the seam.
“I have been meaning to ask, how did the seasoning I gave you fare?” Alastor spoke, his eyes filled with intrigue as he waited for your response.
“Oh! It was fantastic!” You beamed, your mouth watering slightly as you recalled the wonderful dinner from that night. “They made Crawfish Étouffée, and it was very delicious.”
“Ah! Yes, that dish was a staple back in New Orleans, when I was alive. Folks would gather all over to get a taste of my mother’s own twist on the delicacy. She was quite the cook, and her skill never faltered.”
As you listened, you realized his voice softened quite more when he spoke of his mother. That static in his tone seemed to disperse as he mentioned her, and you caught a glimpse of his true voice behind that radio overlay.
“Well, now that I've gotten a glimpse into such an art. I really am interested in trying your Jambalaya.” You spoke genuinely, your fingers still delicately lacing the thread across his sleeve.
“I am pleased to hear that,” Alastor hummed, “I’ll have to bring you a sample the next time I'm in the area.”
Silence filled the room, other than the music that wafted from the radio’s speaker. You continued to adjust and stitch together his sleeve, very close to finishing the mending work.
Even though there were no words spoken between the two of you, the silence was not awkward at all. The two of you simply sat comfortably in each other's presence.
Behind you, the slight crack in the door allowed you to hear the loud voice of Alan, as he spoke to another customer. Alastor’s ears twitched slightly as he heard the demon speaking, his body tensing momentarily.
“Has that wretch been bothering you often?” Alastor spoke after a moment, the static in his voice growing thicker as he spoke of Alan. His claws slightly dug into the table, a faint trail embedded in the wood.
“Well, he doesn't treat me like that succubus did. But, he does not drop the subject of us becoming romantically involved. It gets.. uncomfortable, I guess.”
You sighed as the words slipped from your tongue, a frown forming on your lips as you thought of his many attempts to swoon you. Alastor’s head tilted at your words, that smile cracked even wider as you continued to carefully slip the needle through the fabric.
“Would you like me to ĐɆVØɄⱤ Ⱨł₴ ₴ØɄⱠ?”
You jerked your head up at his words, surprise etched on your face as you turned to him. His voice had changed, the last bit of his sentence distorting into pure static, and you almost didn’t catch his words.
The room crackled with energy, causing your hair to practically stand on end. It was chilling, and you shivered subconsciously at the feeling. The room seemed to darken as Alastor stared at you, his pupils shrinking to resemble radio dials.
“Excuse me?” You questioned, your tone never faltering from its original octane. Which surprised you, since this powerful demon was looking at you with such murderous intent.
‘It’s not you he wants to murder.’ the voice in your head whispered. Which made your heart flutter, was Alastor wanting to kill for you? That was.. unconventionally sweet.
Is that what he did to the succubus the other night when you weren’t looking?
“If the little oaf can’t keep his words to himself, then there is no place for him to continue to sour your mood.” Alastor explained, his eyes taking their original form slowly as he spoke, and the distortion in his tone subsided.
The shadow festering around you slowly shrank away from your seat, illuminating the room once more. That cold feeling that gripped at your shoulders vanished.
It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling that left you, even if it smelled of darkness and destruction. It felt almost.. comforting to you. Like the shadow was pulling you into a protective hug, the chill cooling your heated skin into a soothing embrace.
You only shook your head, “He doesn’t need to die for something like that. And, he’s my boss. Without him, the store wouldn’t run as well.”
Alastor only huffed, leaning back into his seat. His claws left the table, and were instead enclosed into a fist, as he rested his chin atop of it.
“At least the poor bloke ceased in his courting when he realized another had already taken that place.” He shrugged, his eyes glancing down to the gold ring on your hand.
You halted, the needle hanging in the air mid-stitch. How did he know about you and Alan’s conversation? More importantly, what were his feelings about you still wearing the piece of jewelry?
“Oh, right. Yes, I’m sorry for still wearing it, I know it was just for that moment and it was stupid for me to think I could keep it-”
“Nonsense! Do not fret, my dear.” Alastor interjected, brushing off your worry. “Think of it as a small gift to rectify the situation you were forced into that night.”
A gift? He wanted you to keep the ring?
“You could even go as far as to perceive it as a good luck charm, ha-ha. Trouble seems to never escape you, and if this ring can even give you an ounce of protection, why not keep it on to ensure nothing like that night happens again?”
You smiled at him, your eyebrows raised as you listened to his words. A tiny ring, protecting you? You doubted it.
“Well, thank you, Alastor. It is really nice to know someone cares in that way.”
Alastor hummed softly in response, his toothy grin softening into a lipped smile as he turned his attention back to the music playing softly.
The thread tightened snuggly between the two fabrics as you finished the final stitch, your other hand reaching to the small scissors next to you. Carefully, you snipped the thread as close to the sleeve as possible, and you leaned back to take a look at your work.
It looked perfect, like the garment had never taken a hit in the first place. Alastor pulled his arm back slightly, turning it over to inspect it thoughtfully.
“I must say, you have such talent with a needle and thread! When you told me you worked as a door girl, I never expected knowledge of tailoring to be in your resume as well!”
Your cheeks heated as his compliment, and you began to slowly stand from the seat. For a moment, you wished there was something else wrong with his coat that you could fit. If only to keep him here a little longer.
What a selfish thought. You silently reprimanded yourself for such thinking, Alastor had no doubt better things to do than sit here and chit chat with a powerless nobody like you.
Alastor also left his chair, and he adjusted his collar. He gripped his cane, straightening his posture as he turned to you.
“It seems every time we’re together, our conversations are never dull. Thank you for assisting me, I’d love to continue our talks but it appears I have other business to attend to.”
“Back at the hotel?” You asked, as you walked with him to the doorway.
Alastor stopped in his tracks, his eyes widened slightly at your words. He tilted his head at you. “Forgive me, my dear, but I do not remember telling you such a thing. Where did you hear that from?”
Fuck. He never had told you about his place of work, and you writhed slightly under his stare as you tried to come up with an explanation.
“Oh, it’s just an imp had come in this morning, buying a tuxedo for his daughter. He said she ran the Hazbin Hotel. He also said you worked at the hotel too.”
‘And he doesn’t seem to like you.’ you added silently.
Alastor’s grip around his cane tightened, and his smile widened as he thought for a moment. A small chuckle escaped his lips, it sounded dark.
“Are you sure it was an imp, my dear?” He asked slowly.
You nodded, recalling the conversation. “Yes, short with white hair and red skin. Sunglasses too, weirdly. He was quite nice, actually. He gave me some money for helping him, nobody has ever done that for me.”
“Ha! What a kind soul he must be. Did he say anything else to you, by chance?”
You shook your head, “no, not really.”
“A surprise, really. That imp has a knack for using his charm to bend others to his whim. I'm sure that gesture of his was nothing more than to sweep you off your feet for his antics. I’d keep your distance from demons like him, if I were you.”
Was Alastor.. jealous? He couldn't be. But, it seemed like the feelings between the two were mutual with the way he spoke with disdain.
The imp seemed like he had someone he cared deeply for, anyway. You were sure his gesture wasn’t anything more than kindness. Although, you didn’t think Alastor would believe you if you told him.
“But, as you previously mentioned, yes,” Alastor changed the conversation, for his sake it seemed, “I do reside at the hotel in exchange for my services. Redeeming sinners is no easy feat, it needs special hands to mold such a dream into reality.”
“Well, I'm sure you’re doing a great job.” You spoke, doing your best to voice your support for him.
Alastor smiled at you, before nodding in agreement. He pulled the door open, and stepped through the doorway. You followed him, stopping at the threshold as he turned back to you.
He lowered himself slightly, a small curtsy in your direction. As he lifted himself, he leaned closer to you.
“Until we meet again, my wife.” He spoke loudly, most likely for the others in the vicinity to hear. His voice was like honey to your ears as that faint hiss of static dispersed from his tone when his lips settled on wife.
You really did like his voice, and hopefully, you’d hear what it really sounded like more often. His eyes settled on you for a moment longer, as if he wanted to say more. He didn’t, instead turning towards the register across the room.
Leaning against the doorway, you watched Alastor stroll to the cash register. Alan stood behind the counter, and he seemed to shrink slightly under the taller demon’s gaze.
The sharp edges of Alastor’s smile returned as he watched the demon quickly ready the digital display for check-out. His pupils dilating slightly, eyes narrowed as he waited.
You had watched him leave the store, watched him stroll down the street without a glance at anyone else. That mild boredom taking over his features, like it had when he had first arrived.
For the rest of your shift, as you sewed buttons back into place or trimmed stray threads that stuck out of garments, your thoughts continued to stray to events earlier in the day. To that imp, to the ring on your finger, to Alastor and those fluffy little ears on his head.
You were still deep in thought when you clocked out, your feet carrying you out the door as your path led you to the bus stop a few blocks down.
It was a small blue sign, with the symbol of a bus engraved into it. There was no one around, the empty streets quiet as you plopped onto the bench to wait.
Your hands reached into your bag, pulling out your phone from its pocket. You scrolled through your notifications, before clicking on a message from one of your friends.
You were so deep into the screen in front of you, that you didn’t hear the quiet footsteps approach the bench. You didn’t see the knife pointed directly at your face, or the masked man who’s gaze traveled down your form.
“Hey, you!” A voice coated with malice addressed you.
Your head shot up, and you reeled back at the large knife right in front of your nose. Your heartbeat quickened as you scrambled off the bench, the man only keeping pace with you as you backed away.
“You seem like a nice young lady, and I’d hate to ruin that pretty face of yours. Just give me everything you’ve got, and we can go our separate ways.”
“I don’t really have anything for you to take!” You said breathlessly, your hands shaking as you pulled miniscule items from your bag. He only ripped the entire thing from your grip, throwing it behind him.
“What about money? Hand everything over, sweet cheeks.”
You grimaced, before pulling the stack of bills the imp had given you from your person. He ripped them from your grip, before stuffing the money down his pocket.
“That’s all I have, I promise! Please let me go.” You begged, your back hitting the wall of an abandoned building behind you.
You prayed for someone to come to your rescue. Alastor graced your mind, that he’d swoop in to save you once more to save you. He was right, trouble never seemed to leave you.
This time, you’d let him tear this guy apart.
“What about jewelry, huh? I see that ring on your finger, it must cost quite a pretty penny.” The thug sleazed.
Instinctively, you brought your hand to your chest, trying to shield the band from his stare. The demon only closed the distance between the two of you, his mask grazing against your chin as he abruptly yanked you forward.
“Don't fight me, you bitch! Just give it to me, don’t make this difficult.”
His rough hand encircled around your wrist. It was harsh against your skin, and you winced in pain.
“Let go of me! I’ve already given you enough, just leave me alone!” You screamed, hoping someone would come to your aid.
He raked his hand down your finger, the ring slowly moving down your digit as he tried to dislodge it.
It was a snug fit against your skin, and it took him a few moments for him to begin pulling it off your finger. Tears pricked at your eyes as adrenaline pumped through your veins, but you dared not to move with the knife slightly pressing into your side.
Another tug, and the ring grazed over your nail as it was pulled harshly. It wasn’t able to make it past before something strange happened.
The ring ignited in a green flame, and the thug’s hand shot away as he yelled in pain. It licked at the tip of your finger, but you felt no heat from its touch.
You barely had time to blink, or scream before the ring exploded. It burst into a large cloud of green smoke that engulfed your figure. Shielding you from your surroundings. Energy crackled in the air, paired with a chill that made your breath visible as you gasped.
It felt like someone had reached out and gripped at the collar of your top, and you felt a much gentler tug and you were pulled backwards.
The smoke seemed to vanish, and you were drenched into darkness. You felt your feet lift off the ground, as if you were floating.
The problem, you had no idea where you were. Your heart felt like it was going to burst as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like hours went by, but in truth, it was only a matter of a few seconds that darkness surrounded you.
Just as quickly as it started, it ended, and your closed eyelids were hit with a ray of light. There were voices surrounding you as your feet touched on solid ground, the floor softer this time, like carpet.
The chatter stopped abruptly as you settled in place, and for a moment you felt like curling into a ball and hiding from whatever scene you had been thrusted into.
“Ah, there you are!” A familiar voice exclaimed next to you, static dripping from their words. “I was wondering how long it would be until you showed up!”
Wait a second, was that Alastor speaking? Was he responsible for whatever the hell just happened?
Your eyes slowly opened, revealing a large room covered in dark red wallpaper that cracked with age. Gold framed the edges, and lights mounted on the walls illuminated a few paintings that filled the empty space.
It looked like a lobby. Couches nestled in a corner around a small box tv. Next to that was a small bar, bottles of liquor stacked on shelves behind the counter.
Your eyes trailed away, before they landed on a small group of demons in front of you. Your breath quickened in fear, as you quickly scanned over their figures.
There was a woman in a red tuxedo, her mouth slightly parted in surprise. Long platinum-blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail as it traveled down her back. Beside her, a tall snake held a hand to his chest as he leaned back slightly, as if he was more afraid of you than you were of him.
There were a few others too, but your mind was racing so fast you weren’t able to get a settle on their frames before you eyes were bouncing around for an exit.
It wasn’t until you felt someone’s arm snake around your elbow did you whip your head to the side, Alastor’s large smile greeting you as he laced his arm with yours in comfort, no doubt noticing the way your knees were about to buckle.
“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, my dear!” He exclaimed, as if your arrival was expected and totally-not-strange whatsoever. His eyes were soft, doing his best to calm you with his familiar presence. You opened your mouth to speak, even though you weren’t sure exactly what to say.
“Who the fuck is that?” The fuzzy, pink spider demon piped up from the shocked onlookers. A pair of hands on his hips as he regarded you with confusion.
Your lips upturned into a faint smile, and you lifted your hand for a half-hearted wave.
“Um, hi..?”
I hope you enjoyed part 2! Sorry for that cliff hanger 😭 i hate doing that but had to end it somewhere haha
and.. hold up yall…
for real?! i did not expect this my first month on this app, nor at all really 😍 what started as “just this one luci one-shot..” became so much more!
Thank you all for the support and love you’ve given me, lowkey itching to buy a computer just for writing (yes, all my fics have been written with sore thumbs haha)
HUGE thanks to @spoiled-slutt for being my beta reader and helping me brainstorm ideas for this part! They’ve been an amazing help, and you should definitely check out their works if they interest you! <3
have a great day, my swans! 🦢
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taglist:
@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @wonderlife974 @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites
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Omg ♡
Human accidentally saving a Yautja? The human is oblivious to the fact that they saved him?
Could be spicy. it could be sweet, just a thought bouncing around in the head.
A Total Smash
Pairings: Dai'stbaen (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader
Word Count: 6410 (thirteen pages... THIRTEEN PAGES)
Summary: The mountains are your home. Deep in winter, you head into town to get your necessary supplies to survive for two weeks. A rumor roams throughout the small town. You are put on edge. Upon the trip back up to your home, far from civilization, you had no time to react.
Author Note: Okay, okay, bear with me. It's been a hot moment since I last posted. I've got four in total in the vault to post. I wanted to catch up a little since my new job has been time consuming. I did warn you guys my writing may slow down unfortunately, but I'm fighting through it! Also, I'm so sorry but I wasn't able to get to the smut part. If you shot me a dm or another ask, I'm more than happy to continue. I'll even shoot it to the top of my list for you!
Masterlist
Ao3
Part 2
Deep in the mountains, where cell service was spotty at best, nestled your warm, comfortable home. It housed you and two dogs. There was nothing more than needed for this relaxing life you live. With internet at the house, you can work remotely for your job. Never required to come in and barely show your face.
Both dogs, Kodiak and Vivian, were curled up happily on the couches. Each dog getting their own seat to themselves. You huffed with a soft smile at the sight before grabbing your keys. “Okay, babies, I’ll be back. Be good for me!” you called out to them. Only Vivian raised her head. Besides that, neither made an effort to say goodbye to you.
With that, you went out the front door. A bitter cold instantly rained down on you. It tried to bite through your jacket to steal away your warm. The jacket held strong while you hustled towards your auto-started truck. A necessity if living this far from town and in the dead of winter. A little Nissan wasn’t going to get you even down your driveway in this kind of weather.
Inside the vehicle, it was wonderfully warm and toasty. The heat blasted while the butt warmers worked their magic. I put the key into the ignition then carefully crawled down the driveway.
The trip to the store was uneventful. Just the same people you see every two weeks when you make the adventure down to town. Everyone knows everyone. They know who you are and know this is the day you come in. Usually, you get the same thing every time. Once in a blue moon, you’ll find something of interest and place that into your cart as well.
Today was no different than any other. You grabbed the necessary items and piled your cart up. Items that would last the two weeks away from civilization. That included fresh fruits and vegetables. Those would be stretching it to last that long. Yet, they were part of your diet. You made due.
Susan, a young woman, brightened up at the sight of you. The gloomy teenager was the daughter of the owner. Her mother made her work here. Something she complained about often. You could agree with her. She may seem rude on the outside but once you break past that shell, she was a dear to chat with.
The two of you caught up on intel about what’s been happening around the town. Mainly, Susan chatted your ear off. Apparently, Rick, a well known hunter, had gone missing. It was like he up and vanished from thin air. You may not know the man well but you’ve allowed him to stay at your home while he went up further into the mountains to hunt.
Then, Susan began to rave about a new guy that just moved into town. She instantly called dibs on him and pointed an accusing finger at you. “Dibs! He’s mine. Don’t even think about it,” she playfully scolded and continued to scan more of the items you were buying.
A laugh bubbled in your chest. Both of your hands were raised at the sides of your head, in surrender. “Okay, okay. I got the message. He’s all yours.” Not that you think this man was old enough for you to dabble with. You weren’t interested anyhow. No one in town… really riled you up. Which explains your dry spell.
She narrowed her eyes at you for a moment before relaxing. “Good. I’ve been trying to get his number the moment I’ve heard he moved in,” she told you, shoulders sagging.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” The words may seem apologetic, but Susan knew better. There was sarcasm hidden between them.
Instead of her finger, she threatened you with a log of ground beef you were going to use for burgers or tacos. “Oh hush, miss ‘lonely on top of my mountain’. I don’t know how you do it. Only having those two dogs as company. Seems so lonely and cruel to yourself.” Susan shook her head, letting her blonde hair sway side to side.
You chuckled with a grin and leaned on the counter. “I’m a loner. It’s not a bad life. Bills paid. The forest as my backyard. The birds and squirrels greeting me in the morning. With a small river to dip my feet in every day. It’s peaceful and relaxing. You should try it,” you offered with a teasing glint in your eyes.
“With Rick missing, I wouldn’t step foot out there. Who knows what took him. What if it’s like a Green River killer situation happening? You could be next. You would be a perfect opportunity.” The last of the items were scanned. You put your card into the reader. “All alone. You only come down into town every two weeks. No cell service. If you were killed, we wouldn’t know until the next time you were suppose to come in.”
With all of that laid down in front of you, the realization of the situation with Rick hit you. Yes, you could next. But, for someone to find your property that far into the mountains, they would need to specifically hunt you down.
“Susan, I’m fine. I got a gun, my dogs, and a lot of courage. Why else would I like so far from civilization? I knew the risks. I’m willing to take it.” You pulled the card out of the reader and slipped it back into your wallet. “Plus, Kodiak and Vivian would alert me if someone was near. They’re good guard dogs.” Well, not Vivi. Kodiak, was though.
The teenager reached across the counter to grasp your hand. “I still worry. You’re… one of my few friends that I feel close to. Please, don’t let you go missing too,” she pleaded with a hurt look etched into her features. You placed your other hand on top of hers and patted it.
“I won’t. You know me. I fight like hell,” you reassured her. Susan looked at you for a few more moments before taking back her hand. The two of you said your goodbyes before you left the store with a full cart.
On the drive back home, your thoughts were slightly scrambled from the fact there was Rick was missing. He knew the forest like the back of his hand. Any of the kids in town who wanted to learn to hunt went to him. He was an excellent hunter. One of the bests out there. But now… he was MIA. That thought churned your stomach.
Whilst in the deep end of your thoughts, your truck came around a corner. The snow on the road wasn’t terrible. A current flurry fell to cover the ground. It only made the sight difficult to see in front of you. Yet, you knew this roads like the back of your hand.
The added weight in the back of your reliable truck aided you well. You happily kept trucking your way along and popping to the sounds of your music.
Before it registered in your mind, something smashed into the grill guard on the front of your truck. Whatever it was went flying and disappeared through the flakes that filled the air. You gasped and stupidly stomped on the brakes. What little road there was present caught your tires and thankfully stopped you rapidly.
You were out of the vehicle before you knew it and rushing towards whatever you had hit. The snow was slick under your feet and took you into the embankment. Your feet were no longer underneath you. A short yell escaped you. You found yourself sunk into two feet of snow. When you get home, it seems like you’ll be stripping. The last thing you wanted was to get sick.
As you slowly rose to your feet, one of your hands landed on something that didn’t feel like it should be. Warmth greeted your palm. In this weather? It’s below freezing.
A confused expression pinched at your features. With a caution that guided your moves, you began to brush away the snow you must have pushed onto whatever this is.
One brush revealed something dark under the snow. The light of the day showed the surface to be… scaly? That’s the best word you could come up with. You peered down to see a fishnet like material that covered the scales. All you could think of was a stripper. Did you hit a… stripper? What the hell was a stripper doing this far from town? Why?
Despite it being imposable, the figure was warm. Pleasantly warm to the touch. You uncovered more and more until you come to release this was a human? Sort of. It had a humanoid form but wore a mask of metal. It covered the lower portion of its face to show off two deep eyes which were closed.
Whoever this was, wasn’t normal. The head shape was what screamed at you. Then, the strange rubbery like dreads that sprouted from underneath its dome shape head. Whiskers that looked to be made of the same material as its hair created eyebrows that crawled up the edges of its head.
Was this the thing you hit?! Your hand wrapped around its wrist, only to find that your fingers couldn’t even encircle it. There was at least two inches of space. But, you turned its wrist so the underside pointed skyward. Two fingers were placed on where a pulse point would be on human.
The warmth the form produced was amazing. The snow was melting when it fell on its exposed body. You almost wished to snuggle against it and savor its heat. Instead, you felt like behind your fingertips with relief. Now, what were you going to do with it?
For a moment, you glanced at your truck and knew the tonneau cover on the bed of your truck would be protective. There was not a chance in a million years that you could lift its hulking form and seat in it. The bed of your truck would be the easiest to get it into your truck. You didn’t know what it was. That was the scary part. But, you felt awful for smashing into it. The poor thing unconscious and lying in a ditch.
Your bottom lip was gnawed on.
With whatever strength you had, the humanoid figure found its way partial draped over your shoulders and back. Both of its muscular arms were thrown over your shoulder to help keep it up. You carefully dragged the unknown creature up the embankment and over to your truck.
Its head was next to your ear. Soft snores escaped its hidden mouth. The corner of your mouth curls up in a softly smirk. The sound was adorable for something so big. You didn’t except it make such a noise.
Your legs quivered with the strain of holding the creature up and reaching for your tailgate. The door eased down and offered you the needed space. A grunt surged past your lips. You tossed his upper portion onto the tailgate. The back end of your truck lowered with the added weight. Then, you bent down to grab its lower legs.
The strength it took to get the rest of it inside nearly made a vein pop in your forehead. You panted and leaned against your truck, head tilted back. The biting cold and falling snowflakes made your nose cold. You pushed the rest of it far enough before closing the gate with a slam. One more glance around provided no results. Just the empty forest that surrounded you.
You got back into your truck with a shuttering breath. Heat blasted in your face and unfroze the skin. It felt wonderful compared to the cold that clawed desperately to suck away your warmth. But, the metal of the vehicle protected you. You put it into drive and continued the drive back home to your dogs.
On the way back, all you could think of was the creature. What was it? And why was it out here of all places? This was the middle nowhere. There was no cell service. Nothing out here. Just the way you like it. Yet, here was this monstrous, towering beast that didn’t look human. Here you are, taking it home… to do what? Take care of it? To nurture it back to health? Well, you did hit him with your truck. That, you felt bad about.
White blanketed the entire front area of your driveway. The snow still coming down heavily at this point. You stepped out. The bitter cold returning to steal your heat. You trudged to the front door and unlocked before returning to the tailgate of your truck. It took little effort to pull it open and reveal the still unconscious body. You didn’t know what you would’ve done if it was awake. That was the last thing you wanted to deal with right now.
From the front door to your current position, it was about fifteen feet. The front porch was protected by the overhang. You gathered your strength and nerves before dragging the form closer to you. The truck continued shake at the weight of the creature. This was going to be difficult. You lugged the chest of it onto your back while slinging it’s arms over your shoulders. Not even the full weight was upon you and you felt like it was about to crush you. The adrenaline from before had worn off during the drive.
The muscles of your thighs trembled as you strained to get it out. You guess this was your sign to work out from more. It took a lot of finesse to lug the form out so it could be draped haphazardly over the top of you. One step after another, you worked your way to the front door and kicked it open. Both dogs charged out the front door to greet you. They raced up to the two of you and heavily sniffed at the legs of the creature.
“Guys! Stop! It’s difficult enough to carry this thing without either of you trying to drag it down,” you scold the two with a stern voice. Both of them eased up on their excitement but continued to take in its scent. You sighed and finally entered your home after such a long day.
The creature flopped down onto your couch the best you could with it’s size. It was massive, not even fitting on your full length couch. You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand in a humorous manner before marching out the front door again. From there, you hauled in the days work you had gone out to retrieve.
Once everything was inside the house, the door was closed and animates corralled back inside. All the food and supplies you got were swiftly put away before you got out the first aid. You didn’t know what you could do for it without any medical knowledge. It was let bleeding by the looks of it. You knelt besides it on the couch and noticed what looked to be bruising and swelling all along its right side. The grill guard. Your fingers gingerly ran along the blazing scales.
This was all your fault.
With the limited knowledge to care for serious injuries, you grabbed an ice pack from deep within your freezer. Kodiak and Vivian came over to investigate why you weren’t giving them attention. Kodiak, the bigger of the two, had his hackles raised and stood rigid a few feet away from the two of you. On the other hand, Vivian nudged her short, boxer nose into the creatures very human-like hand. The main difference was the scales and long black claws that tipped each finger. You shuttered and placed the cloth wrapped ice packs on the swelling.
Wheezing sounded with each inhale and exhale. The noise worried you. It wasn’t like you could take it doctor though. One look at this thing would have the FBI and CIA on your ass the second afterwards.
Despite it looking dangerous, the last thing you wanted was to put it through more harm. You already hit it with your truck and sent it flying like a reindeer through the air. The evidence was blooming on its two-tones scales. A mix of burgundy and tan. The red turning dark in some areas.
Upon closer inspection, skin was spilt on its forehead. Red blood did not flood from the cut. But a neon green that glowed despite the light in your living room. You did the best you could to tend to the mediocre cut. It wasn’t like it needed to be worried over. You fulfilled your duties then stepped away to prepare for dinner. There wasn’t much else you could do for it.
Now, it was up to fate if it is to wake up.
Amidst the preparation of dinner, your dogs whined and begged for their own. A glance at the clock told you it was past their dinner time. You were swift to make up a healthy concoction of raw meat, eggs, and a couple of vitamins to sprinkle on top. Their bowls were set in their respected spots. Each dog was given their command to eat.
Satisfied with that, you happily returned to making yourself food for the night. Every once in a while, you would glance over at the limp body still blanketing your couch. You still couldn’t believe how massive it was. If it were to stand, it would easily tower over you. You were thankful it hadn’t woken up though. You didn’t know what you would do when it would possibly wake up.
Water boiled in an otherwise empty pot. You side stepped to reach for the box of pasta. At the same time, you peered over your shoulder for a fleeting moment. The couch was empty. The box became your focus. You opened it up before pausing.
The couch was empty.
Heat flooded your backside.
A scream left your lips. Your body reacted before your mind fully comprehend the situation. You spun around and chucked the box of open pasta at the wall of muscles that stood directly behind you. It bounced off and scattered loose noodles all over the ground.
The wall didn’t move. Another scream left your lips. You scrambled to get towards the bat next to your door. Kodiak was the first to react and come bounding into the kitchen at full speed. A deep rumbling growl filled the air. Angry barks echoed off of the walls.
The cold metal of the bat met your palm. You whipped around and wielded your new weapon in the face of your intruder. Only to pause at the sight of the towering figure in your kitchen. Despite the lower portion of its face covered, its eyes clearly showed the confusion inside of them. It glanced down at the spilled pasta then at you. You gulped and kept the bat in front of you. God, it looked like it could take this thing away from you and bend it into a pretzel.
When it made no move towards as the tense seconds passed by, you timidly lowered the bat. Your tongue darted out to wet your dry lips. “You’re… awake,” you stated the obvious. But, you didn’t know what to say. Could it even understand you?
Intelligence shone in its bright, yellow eyes.
Nothing human-like.
It took a moment to take in its surroundings and ignored the snarling, slobbering dog in front of him. Its form was lax. You didn’t know if that should scare you or not.
“Kodiak!” you recalled the protective, black mut to you. His growls died down. His eyes didn’t leave the towering form the creature. He expertly walked over to you and stood in front of you. His body acting like a wall.
Vivian roamed into the kitchen, nose towards the ground. The boxer mutt sniffed at the fallen pasta until she came upon the creature. Her tongue lolled out while she tilted her head up. Her tail began to wag.
The two of them are polar opposites.
Fear gripped your heart. It knelt down and started to stroke her head. You didn’t miss the way it winced at the move. Guilt flooded you. It was your fault it was in this situation. Injured. The least you could do was offer a roof over its head and a full belly. Hopefully, that would save you from any transgressions. The last thing you wanted to do was piss it off. Those arms could tear your head straight from your body.
Bright yellow eyes returned to your timid form. In the eyes of a predator. Your heartrate began to pick up. You swallowed hard. “How, how are you feeling?” Thoughts were racing in your mind. Maybe, you could offer it some painkillers to ease off the agony of what looked to be broken ribs. They were at least bruised and could even be cracked. If they were broken, you wouldn’t forgive yourself. It was hard enough with the knowledge you had hit it.
A shuttering breath escaped your quivering lungs. It stared at you. All while petting Vivian. She just sat there, happy as a clam. Her tail wagging away in delight. Kodiak didn’t leave you despite his adoptive sister getting attention.
Then, it stood up. You felt yourself shrink. It was evident that this thing could move without you noticing. It shouldn’t be possible with its size and mass. None of the floorboards had creaked when it originally snuck up behind you.
While it looked at you, it felt wrong to return its gaze. As if you were poking the bear. You were making the situation worse than it already is. How could it get worse than this?!
Your front door shattering. Wood went flying at each of your feet’s. You yelled out and covered your head. The bat still gripped tightly in a death grip. A white blur zipped in front of you.
The form ignored you to wrap a hand around the creature and lifted him off of the ground. Kodiak went wild and charged without a care of his own safety. You screamed at him but he was in his own mind. To protect you.
Vivian yelped and scampered the best she could on the hard wood away from the scene. She was the smarter of the two.
Before stood a nearly ghost white humanoid form. Similar to the creature you had saved from the snow. Yet, its dreads were pure white. Devoid of any melatonin. You gasped. It had a death grip around the red creature’s throat and lifted it off of the ground. A pained grunt left its throat while it scrambled to get out of the hold.
Like son, like parent. You charged forward with the bat and smashed the metal end against the back of its white head. Ghost dropped Red with a pained grunt. Not a second was wasted. You continued to beat down on its nogging like your life depended on it. A guttural cry left your lips as you relentlessly bashed the metal bat.
A white slightly lime green hand whipped out and snatched the bat straight from your hands. Now, you were defenseless in the face of this monster.
Teeth latched onto its calf and dug in. Neon green blood sprayed out and soaked into Kodiak’s maw. You took the chance to back away.
A hulking body launched through the air and drug Ghost down. Fist flew. The harsh sounds of skin meeting skin in a vicious beat down filled the air. You stood there, arms slightly raised, as if you froze in the process of fleeing. All you do was watch as Red continued to introduce his knuckles to the metal of Ghost’s face.
The strength behind each punch caused the metal cave before giving. Neon green blood coated his red fists and coated them to the point it was flung everywhere. Its warmth dotted your clothing and face. But, you didn’t even flinch at the feeling.
Once Ghost had stopped moving, the punches halted. A scary calm entered the air. Red’s chest heaved with breaths but the mouth mask quieted the noise. You swallowed and pushed down the ringing in your ears. Its head whipped towards you with a rumbling snarl that nearly sent Kodiak off again. But, the lanky mutt came up to you to stand guard once in front of you.
Red realized it was you and silenced the sound immediately. Your hand carded through Kodiak’s fur to help quell the racing in your chest. The creature let his head tilt back a deep groan. Its dark dreads swayed at the move. The metal décor clinking against one another.
Your hand touched at your chest. The adrenaline in your system fading with each beat of your heart. The heat of the moment finally over. But, the fact you had nearly been slaughtered was a neon sign right in front of you. Your eyes finally focused on Red who was still straddling the dead body; of whatever they were.
In what felt like less than a minute, the situation had returned to normal. As the powerful drug left your veins, the biting cold that slithered into your expose home caused a chill down your back. You shivered and hugged at yourself.
The front door. It was nearly gone. Only bits and pieces hung on to the hinges. All the heat that was once inside the cozy home was gone. In came a cold you didn’t know how to battle.
A whimper left your lips.
A wall of muscle stood in front of you. Red’s hulking frame stood like a redwood tree over you. The first instinct was to shrink away. To flee. Pretty much. Your feet were rooted to the ground, unable to gather the strength and courage to run. To be a coward in the face of danger.
Kodiak no longer growled but his hackles were raised high. His dark brown eyes watched the unknown figure closely.
Heat rolled down in comforting waves off its body. It almost made you want to press yourself against it. You refrained from that embarrassing idea and glanced back over towards the destroyed door. “My door,” you pouted, sorrowfully and hugged yourself tighter. You had to think of something quick to keep the house a decent temperature.
Before you had a chance to get a plan in place, Red was already on the move. His body gracefully into the living room. You watched as blankets were gathered in those thick arms of his. He carried them over to the door.
As the best he could, he draped the blankets in layers. With the metal gauntlet on its arm, it punctured something into the wall multiple times. Each blanket was secured into place. It helped keep the majority of the cold out of your home.
His form stilled after he had blocked off your door. You took a breath of relief. The house was still drastically colder from the exposed elements. What he did though will help with preventing a quick exchange of temperature. You opened your mouth to speak your relief to him when the creature turned around to finally face you.
There was an air around him that made you slightly nervous. It made you off putted. With the dead body of someone like him on your floor, you had all rights to be. A life he took with his very own fists, and showed no mercy.
Yet, Ghost had come in here. A monster on a mission for the creature standing in front of you.
That left you with one major question: “What the hell happened?” you asked in a firm voice. Your heart thumped powerfully behind your breastbone. The adrenaline leaving your system and making you tired. The last thing you wanted was to pass out or grow dazed in front of him. Not when he showed what he could do without a weapon.
Red’s bright, blazing eyes were set on you. He strode across the living room to enter your space. The heat his body radiated rolled off onto you again. It made you strive to curl up against him. But, you stayed rooted in your spot and looked up at his towering frame. You were scared. At the same time, you held your own in the face of danger. A watchful, careful eye was set on him.
Your body was wracked with a shutter.
“You are cold,” he spot in a voice that barely uttered the words. It was almost like it wasn’t natural to him. His tongue and mouth wasn’t meant to form such words. Your eyes flickered wider before narrowing on him.
Both of your hands rested on your hips. “Well, no shit sherlock. It’s freezing outside and your friend here busted down my door,” you snarked at him. The cold making you a bitter human being.
All you could read on his face was his eyes. One of his brows simply raised at your words. “He was no friend.” Welp, he didn’t understand the sarcasm in your voice.
A sigh left your lips while you shook your head. The temperature was still far below a comfortable range. You recrossed your arms firmly to contain your own body heat. “Still doesn’t excuse the behavior for the fact my front door is gone.” It would take you some time before you could go back into town and get yourself a new door. You had work tomorrow. It was dangerous to be out after dark. There was no time between now and tomorrow.
You rubbed at the exposed skin on your arms with another shutter. The creature’s eyes flickered down to watch the move. He moved in. You opened your mouth to demand what he was doing then his arms wrapped around you. The warmth you’ve been craved soaked into your skin. A deep hum escaped you while you sunk against him.
“Why are you so warm?” you mumbled against the scales he had you pressed to. Your arms twitched, desperate to reach out and wrap them around him. Yet, you held back to keep some sort of composure in front of a beast you didn’t know.
Against your cheek, you could feel the bumps from his injured ribs. That brought you back to the present. You pulled away from him to put some distance between the two of you. “How are your ribs?” you asked in a timid voice. Now, you became hesitant to look him in the eye. That was embarrassing to be nearly drooling at the heat he produced. He should be your concern. You had been the one to hit him with your truck. He’s wounded too.
His hand drifted up to said area. Rough pads grazed along the swollen spot on his left side. You winced. It looked worse than before. The fighting must have agitated them more.
A shrug came from him. “They are… fine,” he struggled to find the last word at first.
In all honesty, you weren’t convinced but had to take his word for it. You glanced down at the body then back at him. The front door was unusable. There was the back door.
God, you didn’t want to deal with this now. Worse of all, you lost your appetite. You jolted then rushed over into the kitchen.
Water boiled over the edge of the pot and created a dangerous mess. You instantly turned off the heat and leaned on the counter. You weren’t going to say it but this day had turned worse. Sometimes, it was best to keep your trap shut. That, you learned the hard way.
Pained grunts sounded behind you. You peered over your shoulder at the sight of Red picking up Ghost’s body. He tossed it onto his shoulders, fireman style, with little issues. Your jaw dropped at the sight. Red glanced at you for a fleeting moment before walking towards the only other door in your home. You watched as he stepped out into the snow and darkness.
Despite no light, the snow reflect any and all light. Red walked and walked upon he was barely visible. The body slid off of his shoulders and was quickly swallowed up by the feet of snow that blanketed the area.
No one would find the body. Not this far out. Who would be looking for it in the first place? Clearly, they weren’t from here. They were… from somewhere else.
Red came trudging back into the house and closed the door behind him.
Before a silence could engulf the two of you, you took a breath in. “I don’t know if you know… but I had hit you with my truck. I-I’m sorry. I didn’t even know someone would be out there. No one should be. But here we are. Um, and in return, you are more than welcome to stay here as long as you want. My apologies for hitting you and such,” you stated to him and pushed off of the counter to stand up to your full height.
“There’s not much here. The other two bedrooms are taken. One for the dogs. The other for storage. Not like they had a bed in either of them. Y-you can stay in my room though. It’s big. It’s better than the couch.” God, you kept rambling on and on.
He chuffed. “It will grow cold out here. A ooman such as yourself wouldn’t battle the weather and win.” Your timid status nearly turned at his words. You wanted to smack him for the comment but refrained from doing so. Your head tilted at the use of ‘ooman’. It almost sounded like… human. Could he no say the word?
“What are you suggesting then?” you asked, unsure what he was trying to say.
“We sleep together.” The color drained from your face. Heat blazed to a burning fire all over your face. “We use each other’s body heat. Mostly, keeping you from freezing and dying on me.” He stepped close enough you saw the dimensions of his eyes. “You don’t realize it, but you not only saved me once but twice.”
Confusion took over your features.
“In the forest, on the road. I was fighting against the bad blood. You had came along in your vehicle and hit him. Then, just now.” Wait… you had hit both of them?! Your face morphed into horror. “As much as it pains me to admit to such a thing, you had saved my life twice. As per my honor code that I am bound to, I am in debt. I shall not let harm come to you.”
“Hold up! Hold up. Let me get this straight. I hit both of you.” You began to count off on your fingers with each point. “I somehow saved your life then. I drag you here. I save you again from… a bad blood? My god. What in the hell are you?!” You had both of your hands pointed at him. Your body very animate with your words.
“A Yautja. My name is Dai’stbaen. I am an enforcer,” he explains and forfeits information to you. You clutched at your forehead. “I hunt down bad bloods. Rouges of my kind and kill them.” You had to lean back against the counter again to keep yourself upright. All of this information was flying far too fast at you.
Then… it struck you. “You’re an alien.” It was more of a statement than a question. He wasn’t from earth. Aliens were real. Oh god. You felt lightheaded, on the verge of passing out from all of this hitting you straight in the face. A keen left your throat.
Dai…st’baen dipped his massive dome head. Your gaze was pinned to the floor but you weren’t looking at anything. You were trapped inside of the flying thoughts that turned into a hurricane.
Clearly, there was no sanity left inside of you. Not at this rate.
“Okay then.” After what felt like hours, you finally came to a conclusion. In the moment, you had to just roll with it. Adapt. Survive. A life you knew far too much about while living in the middle of nowhere. You met his eyes. “Well… um, this has been an eventful day. But, I think it’s time to turn it if you don’t mind. I need… to sleep on all of this.” Maybe some sleep could help you think clearer tomorrow.
The burgundy figure looked at you, eyes studying your figure for long moment. You took the moment to step around him and head towards your bedroom. “Come along, I’ll show you.”
Despite not hearing any pitter patter of feet, you felt his huge presence behind you. Like a shadow. You showed him into your room. It wasn’t much. But it was your space that you enjoyed. Yet, here you were, about to share it with someone else. Someone not even your own species.
One of your hands motioned towards the bed. “There’s the bed. I’ll go and grab some more blankets for you. It’ll… be really cold.” The sun was gone far below the horizon. There was no heat to share from the outdoors. It was all on the two of you to survive.
His bright eyes watched as you scurry into the hallway. Though, you wanted to be away from the scrutiny of his powerful gaze, you were swift to get armfuls of blankets. The night won’t be forgiving. Heat was essential to staying alive in a place like this. You didn’t know if he understood that or not. It wasn’t like he needed to be wrapped up in twenty blankets. He was a furnace himself.
All the blankets were tossed onto the bed into a pile. Then, you turned towards him. “I… uh, hope this is fine. It’ll be too cold out in the living room for me.” You really hoped he didn’t kick you out of your room. Not when the temperature could slowly drain you of your warmth.
Dai’stbaen merely shrugged before climbing onto the bed gingerly. You followed suit and wrapped yourself up in the blankets. Though this was your bed, you laid there straight as a rod and stared up at the ceiling.
This was going to be a long night.
#yautja#predator#yautja x reader#alien vs predator#yautja x you#yautja x human#predator x reader#predator x you#predator x human#x reader#Dai'stbaen
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LATE NIGHT, SAFE HANDS.
• jude bellingham x gf!reader
• warnings: just the horrible title. (Also, English is not my first language!)
• summary: Jude Bellingham’s quiet night is interrupted when his girlfriend arrives home drunk after a night out. Amid playful chaos, he faces the ultimate challenge: getting her to finally sleep, revealing the warmth and humor of their relationship.
PART 2: EARLY MORNING, SWEET KISSES
His girlfriend had gone out with her group of friends tonight. She´d had been looking forward to it all week. They had been together for about eight months, and things between them felt easy, natural, despite their busy lives. Jude was head over heels for her, and though they weren´t living together yet, they spend a lot of time at each other´s places. He trusted her completly, however he couldn´t help the subtle flicker of concern that burned in his chest.
Earlier that evening, she had sent him a picture of her outfit for the night, teasing him with a playful "Rate it out of 10." He remembered grinning at the sight―she looked stunning in that red dress that left Jude staring at his phone for way longer tham he´d like to admit. His reply was a teasing, "Solid 11. You´re gonna have every guy at that club staring at you. Take care, yeah?"
She´d reply with a string of laughing emojis and a lot of hearts of different colors and added, "Promise! Love ya."
Hours passed, and with her occasional messages about how much fun she was having and how the club had "grwat music bt terriblw cocktailss" and a few blurred slefies, Jude couldn´t help but laugh before texting her to be careful, trying not to admit that maybe he was a little bit unease.
Around 1:30 a.m, the messages and slurred audios from her had started to slow down, but he wasn´t too worried. He figured she was just caught up in the fun, dancing with her friends and enjoying the night. After all, it was still early. Still, he checked his phone more frequently, feeling a little restless as the minutes ticked by without a response.
"Everything okay?" he´d sent about an hour ago, hoping for an answer.
Nothing.
Jude sighed, staring at the screen for a moment before tossing the phone back onto the couch beside him. He told himself not to worry. She was probably, no, she was definitely fine, just lost in the music, and her phone was somewhere deep in her bag. But a small voice in the back of his mind kept telling him otherwise.
He tried not to be that boyfriend. You know, the one who texts every five minutes to check up on her. But as the clock ticked closer to 3 a.m. and still no word from her, his foot started tapping nervously against the wooden floor. He shot her another text, "You good? Getting kinda late..." Jude stared at the screen, waiting for those familiar typing dots to appear, but after two minutes of nothing, he sighed. He set his phone down, leaning back against the cushions, trying to keep his mind out of it.
Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen.
By the time it hit twenty, Jude was seriously considering calling her. Just to check, he told himself. He had refreshed the chat multiple times but there was no response. He unlocked his phone and was about to hit her name when the sound of the doorbell cut through the quiet.
Frowning, Jude stood up, wondering who could be visiting at this time of night. As he approached the door, a series of knocks came, maybe a little frantic. His heart race just a little. Who could possibly be knocking at this hour?
He then swung the door open and froze.
There she was, standing in front of him, her makeup smudged, her hair slightly tousled, and that same red dress clinging maybe a little bit higher than when she went out. But what really stood out was the way she was standing, as if she was going to fall at any minute, with sparkling eyes and cheeks flushed―whether from the cold air or the alcohol, Jude wasn´t sure.
But the smile she gave him? Bright as ever.
"Juuuuude!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms up as if she´d just seen him for the first time in weeks.
He couldn´t help but grin at the sight, feeling the relief flood through him. She just threw herself into his arms before he had a chance to react. He caught her easily, wraping his arms around her waist as she giggled into his chest.
"Hey, hey," he said softly, trying to hold back a laugh of his own. "You alright?"
She pulled back slightly, swaying on her feet as she looked up to him. "Of course I am. Why wouldn´t I be?" Her words slurred together, and she had to repeat the question a few times.
"You´re plastered," he stated plainly, amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Your plastered," she tried to imitate him. "Am not," she protested, though the wobble in her stance told him otherwise. She tried to step forward, but Jude quickly caught her before she could topple over.
"Please tell me you didn´t come walking all the way here like this," he asked, closing the door behind them with one hand, the other firmly around her waist.
She gave him a pout. "Wanted to see you."
“Yeah, I figured that much.” He chuckled, guiding her over to the leather couch. “Come on, sit down before you hurt yourself.”
She let him guide her but promptly flopped onto the couch with dramatic flair, kicking off her heels and curling her legs beneath her. She looked at him, a playful glint in her eyes.
“Jude?” she asked sweetly.
“Yes, love?”
“I'm hungry.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You want me to make you something?”
“Nooo...” She shook her head, grinning mischievously. “I wanna cook.”
Jude immediately burst out laughing, kneeling beside the couch as he looked at her incredulously. “Babe, you’re drunk. You can’t even stand up properly, let alone cook.”
She squinted at him, clearly not appreciating his lack of faith. “I can cook. I make the best... sandwiches.”
“Sandwiches? That’s the bar we’re setting?”
She nodded eagerly, but before he could protest further, she was already struggling to stand, making a beeline for the kitchen. Jude quickly jumped up to intercept her, catching her around the waist before she could get too far.
“Oh no you don’t,” he said, pulling her back toward him. “You are not cooking in this state.”
She notice how warm he was. “Jude…”
He laughed, tightening his grip around her. “Nope. Not happening. You’re going to hurt yourself or burn the kitchen down.”
“That is not true.”
“I’ve seen you try to use a toaster when you’re half-asleep. I don’t need you burning down my kitchen with us inside.”
With a huff, she slumped against him, clearly defeated but still playful. She tilted her head back to look at him, her frown returning. “You’re no fun.”
“I’m a lot of fun,” he corrected, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “You’ll see how fun I am tomorrow when you wake up with a hangover,” he teased. “Now, how about we get you some water and you go to bed, yeah?”
“I don’t want water,” she mumbled playfully, leaning her head onto his shoulder and putting her hand on his back. “I want… you.”
Jude felt his heart do a little flip at her words, though he tried to play it cool. “Yeah, well, you can have me tomorrow after you drink some water.”
He got up and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and bringing it back to her. She was now sprawled across the couch, one leg dangling off the side as she stared up at the ceiling, mumbling something incoherent.
“Here,” Jude said, sitting her up gently and handing her the glass.
She took it begrudgingly, sipping at it like a child forced to take medicine. “I didn’t want this,” she muttered.
“I know,” Jude said, rubbing her back soothingly. “But you’ll thank me in the morning.”
After a few sips, she set the glass down and looked up at him with wide, adoring eyes. “You’re so good to me,” she said softly, her voice suddenly tender.
Jude smiled, feeling his chest tighten in that familiar way it did whenever she said something sweet, even in her drunken state. “Of course I am. Someone’s gotta take care of you when you decide to get hammered.”
“Jude, I’ve already told you that I’m not—,”
“Alright, alright,” he said defeated. Then, after making sure that she had drunk all the water, he lifted her as if she was nothing and carried her to his room.
The softness of the mattress and the sheets made her yawn. As Jude carefully wiped off her makeup and gave her some of his clothes, she couldn’t help to smile, adoring his features. When one of his hands brushed where her ribs where, she giggled at the motion, leaning her head against his chest. “You’re my favorite person,” she whispered.
His heart melted. “And you’re mine,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
They stayed like that for a while, she snuggled up against him as Jude absentmindedly ran his fingers through her hair, soothing her into a more peaceful state. Her tipsy giggles slowly faded, replaced by soft, sleepy breaths.
“You okay now?” he asked quietly.
“Mhm,” she hummed, half asleep against him.
Jude looked down at her, his chest swelling with affection. Drunk or not, she always managed to make him feel like the luckiest guy in the world. And despite her occasional recklessness, he wouldn’t trade moments like this for anything.
#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham#jude bellingham x you#jb5#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham fanfic#jude bellingham fluff#jude bellingham imagines#hey jude#jude bellingham angst#jude bellingham comfort
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Charles jealous and possessive please 🔥 Smut. Thank you so much ❤️
₊˚⊹♡ ➛ le mien
Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader
Summary: Part 2 of Mine
Genre: DARK fic.
Word: 2.03k words
TW: baby trapping, p and c penetration, possessiveness, jealousy, branding, manipulation, obsessive behavior, bit angsty, corruption, brainwashing, wrap it before you tap it folks and overall messed up shit. This is not proofread and there are some grammatical error also google translated french. if uncomfortable minors do not interact!!
─────── ─ ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧ ─ ───────
Y/username just posted!
Liked by Charles_Lecler, Francisca.cgomes, Carlossainz55 and 1,290,456 others
Y/username Happy 4th Anniversary Mon amour!
Charles_Leclerc i love you so much darling!
Y/username i love you more💋💋💋
Carlossainz55 Stay strong guys!
User1 Cutest Couple ever🙈
User2 JUST GET MARRIED ALREADY
User3 Agreed😍
Y/bff The cutest fr
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…
Despite all the love you share on social media, nothing can compare to the real truth that exists beyond the internet.
People don't see the things he does behind closed doors—all those emotional abuse, obsessive behavior, and possessiveness. Never, even once, do people know that it's happening between the two of you.
All they know is the sweet words you guys share in each other's posts and the way you act whenever there are people around you two—all sweet and loving like one of those fairy tale romances you read. But behind all that, they don't see how hurt you are mentally. It was happening constantly, and you were so used to it that you became numb and just succumbed to the growing pain you feel inside.
To the point where you act like his puppet—doing everything that pleases him, and acting the way he wants you to.
You never once complained, thinking that it was just how love goes.
You were a fool. A fool blinded by "love".
...
"Hey y/n/n, are you alright? Me and mom have been worried about you; you haven't been going to our usual family gathering." your sister asked over the phone.
It was true; you haven't been going to those gatherings for a while now, only because Charles said, "It's not safe to go outside," and of course, like the sweet girlfriend doll you were, you followed his words.
You stared blankly, your mind wandering off. You tend to get lost in thoughts nowadays, and you're not sure why. Maybe it's from the stress you've been feeling, but you just brushed it off like it was nothing.
"Yeah, I am good. I've just been busy lately, you know? Keeping the house safe and everything," you chuckled dryly.
"You know I can tell when there's something wrong, right? So just tell me."
Before you could answer, Charles walked into the room. With one hand holding Leo, he was snuggled up nice and cozy in his embrace. His eyes roamed around the room searching for you; his gaze then fell prey on your meek figure—you sat there holding the phone in one hand while the other rested on the softly fabricated couch. You looked angelic, as if untouched by any form of evil.
Then again, Charles wasn't just any form of evil; he was the reincarnation of the devil himself, and he wanted nothing more than to corrupt your innocence.
With a soft smile, Charles walked to where you sat, sitting beside you and settling leo down on his lap.
"Who are you talking to poupée (doll)?" he asked nonchalantly.
"Oh, just my sister; we were just catching up on things." You muttered, your voice quivering slightly; you don't know whether you were scared or just have some sore throat that made your voice crack.
Charles looked at you in disbelief, his eyes narrowing with skepticism, and simply turned his attention back at Leo. "Hang up the phone," he said bluntly, not even sparing you a glance.
"But baby, we were just talking." You tried to argue with him, telling him that you just wanted to chat with your sister, but as usual, he blocked your words of plea and glared at you—he always does that, looking at you as if he were judging your whole soul.
His eyes have always been your weakness; they both scare and pleasure you at the same time. Charles knows that, and he uses it to his advantage every time.
The atmosphere in the room was heavy; you could feel it weighing down and crushing your spirit.
Sighing defeatedly, you had no choice but to end the call with your sister and not further complicate things.
"Hey, uhm, sis, I'll just call you back, okay? Something just came up."
You didn't even let your sister respond before hanging up the call. Charles hummed contentedly and patted the seat next to him. At that very moment, you felt angry with him, but you knew that you couldn't do anything about it, so you sucked it up and sat beside him. Leaning close to his embrace.
"Bonne fille, ma chérie (good girl, my darling)," he mumbbled softly, kissing the roof of your head.
...
Charles gripped your waist tightly, his jaws clenched, and hands balled up to a fist. He half-ass smiled at the man, trying to compose himself—fighting back the urges to beat the shit out of the guy in front of them.
He saw the way he looked at you; his eyes scanned each and every part of your body like you were some kind of art on display. fucking disgusting.
You, on the other hand, held on to him, almost ripping the fabric of his clothes with your tight grip. You paid no mind to the guy he was talking to and just stared at the bustling room; in there, people were having fun, dancing, and drinking with others.
At that moment, you didn't care about Charles or who he was conversing with; all you wanted was to spring free from his embrace and just party wild with others. Was that too much to ask for?
For him, it was. If it was legal, he wanted nothing more than to lock you up and live the rest of your lives together. So, having that idea was just wishful thinking—it never hurts to dream, though.
"I'll see you around, yeah?" The man asked, earning a subtle nod from Charles as an acknowledgment.
"Quel putain de cinglé (what a fucking weirdo)," he mumbled under his breath, his accent making the words sound more spiteful and venomous.
You didn't hear him say that. You were too busy to admire people's enjoyment and bask in the laughter and smiles that surround you. How could people be as care free like that? The ache on your heart only grows fonder. Oh, how you wish you could do the same.
With your head up in the clouds, you didn't seem to notice the angry monegasque that stood beside you, cursing you in any language he knew. The next thing you felt was a harsh sting that rested on your jaw.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? I've been trying to talk to you! What are you even looking at? Are you cheating on me, Chienne (Bitch)?" he yelled, not even caring anymore if people heard him.
Your breath hitches, eyes widening, and heart racing fast.
His hands were now on your jaws, gripping them with sheer strength. You didn't know what was going on or why this was happening to you. You were always so nice and never did anything to cause harm, so why?
All those questions in your mind made your vision go blurry and your head spin, causing you to black out on the spot.
...
You woke up the next day with a pounding headache and only bits of memories of what happened that night. "Ouch," you winced, massaging your head to try and ease the pain.
As if on cue, Charles walked in with medicine on his left hand and a glass of water on the right.
His face lit up, seeing that you were now awake. He softly smiled and walked towards your shared bed. The matress dipped down as he sat next to your sitting body.
"Are you feeling better, mon amour?" he asked. His hand was about to stroke your cheeks, but out of reflex, your body flinched at his sudden movement.
That made Charles frown. You know how bipolar his mood has been; that's why you've been extra careful not to ruin it. You were expecting him to be mad, but what happened was the opposite. He only sighed deeply and lowered his head.
"I am sorry, Mon cœur." Your being shocked was an understatement; in fact, you were flabergasted at his words. You never knew that hearing him say that would make you want to tear up.
"Hey, baby, it's okay. I know you didn't mean for it to happen," you assured him, and rubbed circles around his arm.
And just like that, Charles once again got you wrapped around his finger. You were way too easy to convince and so naive that you'd fall for anything he said.
He slowly lift up his head and gave you a light smile.
You then melted at his expression, it was silly of you to think that a face like that could ever harm you. he would never do that.
...
"Fuck, Charlie, put it in already, please," you begged, your eyes watering from the overstimulation. His hands gripped your waist tighter—muscles flexing in the process.
"You're so needy for my cock, mon amour," he breathes out.
The two of you have been at it for half an hour now, both out of breath and with marks made by one another. Your bodies were sticky with each other's bodily fluids, but you guys paid no mind to that. Only focusing on reaching the pleasure you both wanted so badly.
Without wasting a second, Charles huridly inserted his dick into your aching core. Your eyes widened from the sudden sensation between your thighs; you could feel how he was stretching you, and the need for him to satisfy you only increased.
"Move, please" you said, your voice quivering and hands scratching his back to let out some of the pain.
Your legs instantly rested on his lower hip, wanting to keep him as close to you as possible. You don't know why you're acting like that, but you suddenly got the urge to mount him and fuck him till dawn.
"Shit baby, you're always so tight," he chuckled, his left hand settled in the headboard while his right hand played with the nub of your tits.
His hips clashed with yours, making the two of you a moaning mess. Charles then dove down to your breast and licked it, biting and teasing them. He made sure to leave plenty of marks.
"Oh god, i..i am about to come," you gasped, your toes curling from the rush of adrenaline coursing through you.
"Just come for me, baby," he said, continuously pounding into you, your flesh crashing at each other and making a loud, smacking sound.
His hand then snaked up to hold onto your ankles, lifting it up. Shifting his dick into a deeper position.
With the new found position, your vision started to go blur; now only seeing nothing but stars. Your mind then turns hazy, and hands gripping tightly on the duvet sheet that scattered on the bed.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck" was the only thing you said before collapsing on the matress, your body convulsing with pleasure as your juices slowly fall down your flush tighs.
"Damn, all that for me, ma chérie?" Charles laughed, licking his lower lip at how ravishing you look; fucked out and cockdumb for him.
He continued to rut his hips to your overstimulated cunt. "Fuck, Je veux mettre un bébé en toi (i want to put a baby inside you)" he mumbled, not minding your state and carried on fucking you into an oblivion.
"I'ma fill you with my cum, make you a mama and the fill you up again....fuck" he rambled, his hips never stoping, not until he reach his high.
And after a few more thrust, he finally came inside of you— his eyes rolling in the back of his head with satisfaction. He continued to rut into you; not wanting to spill his cum and then coating your walls with his white seed.
You were sure to get pregnant by that and after that, you two are going to be tied forever, just like he planned.
...
yeah that was pure filth, hope you guys like it though! My requests are always open.
#imagine#fanfic#oneshot#smut#f1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1#scuderia ferrari#charles leclerc scenarios#charles leclerc story#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc imagine
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— when the time comes
pairing: old man!logan howlett x gn! reader
word count: no idea but this one isn't very long.
part two is out!
tags: major character death — angst — reader is logan’s sunshine — mention of blood & wounds — logan low-key proposing 5 seconds before he dies — non established relationship
author's note: this has been on my mind since 2 days ago so I had to do it now.. I hope you guys enjoy reading this heartbreak! and yes I wrote this after watching Logan (2017) again. just a bit of an alternative type of ending so I can write abt logan x reader! as always reblogs & likes & conversations are sooo welcome ^_^
god stood me up
and I don't know why
lights are on
but nobody's home
you find him leaning against a tree trunk, a chunk of wood piercing his sides open as blood soaks through his shirt. that isn't the only wound he's sporting but it's the most evident one; the one that'll possibly lead him to his demise.
logan blinks upon noticing you as if he's just seeing things or dreaming. when you crouch down beside him and place your hand on his arm, he realizes exactly just how real you are. “logan?” there are tears in your eyes and he hates that you're crying because of him again. you had been living with him, charles and caliban way before it all turned to shit. and somehow the only ones left standing were laura and you. and the kids that logan had managed to save; he truly had saved so many lives.
there's a silence aside from his heavy breathing before your shaky hands cup his face. the blood flows out of his wound and mouth like a river. in some way you're bleeding too — inside your heart. “hey sunshine.” logan whispers with a soft smile and you feel something tear your chest apart from the inside. “I made you cry again.” you see the way his hand twitches by his side. he wants to touch you but he's old and tired and wounded. there's no energy left in him to move anymore. “the kids are okay, laura is okay— I have the car and..and there's still time— the hospital—” your voice trails off when logan closed his eyes.
“you know what makes me angry, sunshine?” logan asks and you simply stare at him, shaking your head. when he opens his eyes again, they are full of unshed tears. “gonna miss my daughter’s first birthday with me—” logan mutters brokenly and the vision of laura swims beneath his half-opened eyelids. and after laura there is you; smiling. at the beach. you've always wanted to go to the beach with him but he never took you since he was working day and night to take care of everything. of everyone. “and i’m also gonna miss my sunshine.” his eyes fall on you, on your crying face. the tears sliding down your cheeks are plenty and there is so much emotion pooling in those orbs of yours. logan wants to kiss you, tell you it'll be alright. but he can’t even move.
he coughs, some blood spluttering on his white shirt and you flinch. your fingers shake as you slide them through his messy hair, stroking them in the way he’s always loved. “logan, I'm sorry...I— I'm so sorry logan..” you keep chanting and logan feels the frustration in his bones when he tries to move his arms. he can't, he's too weak now, and he's angry with himself that he's unable to comfort you the way he wants. the way he once could but never did. “not you nor the entire world could ever prevent this, sunshine. it was meant to be like this.” he says before coughing again, more blood trickling down his beard.
you crawl by his side, on the dirty ground, and press against his ‘good’ side while leaning your head on his shoulder. you tilt your head back enough for your eyes to reach his exhausted face. logan maintains a smile you haven't seen in forever. in damn years to be precise. “charles spoke to me of other timelines and some shit about— multiverse was it?” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “I don't fucking know. I just wanted him to take the damn pills.” his sentence makes both of you laugh although logan is holding back with that — it'll only cause more physical pain after all. “point is..if it's true then—”
“—we gotta find each other yeah? and laura.” his eyes aren't on you anymore but they're in the sky. it's bluer than ever and the clouds part to show him the sun. logan doesn't look away even if it makes his eyes ache. you stare. “wanna make it right, sunshine.” he tells you as you sniffle by him. his fingers flinch again between your bodies and you slide a single hand down to hold his own, to intertwine your fingers in a gentle mess. “but for now I want to rest.” logan whispers and your grip tightens around his hand. if he had the strength, he'd squeeze back. you knew this.
“you did excellent.” you finally manage to say, a little steadier this time. logan averts his gaze to you as you continue. “you did a good job. you did such a good job.” you repeat with a smile so soft that logan starts yearning for you already. his faint chuckle turns into a rough cough and he takes some time to recover before speaking again.
“maybe after I rest, I'll open my eyes and..” you watch as logan’s eyes begin closing and how the heaving of his chest slows. he's deathly pale by now, the veins underneath his eyes are prominent, but your grip never slackens. you crawl closer until your foreheads touch. logan draws one last breath and you swallow down your cry. “and I'll see my daughter. and my... spouse.” your eyes shoot open wide but logan’s remain fallen shut. your chest heaves up and down intensely but logan’s remains still.
when the time comes, your feet are forcefully dragging you away towards your old car while logan lies beneath the ground.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett angst#major character death#logan 2017#wolverine#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#marvel#hugh jackman#hugh jackman x reader#Spotify#old man logan#old man logan x reader#old logan#old!logan howlett
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WHATS LEFT BEHIND PT.2 | MV1
an: guys my time off is coming to an end, i move to france next week and start my job the week after rip me but in the mean time enjoy this badboy i've been sitting on
summary: when max verstappen left his childhood girlfriend behind to face her career ending injury alone to chase his dreams of being the best bull rider the country has ever seen, he thought it would be easy. except it wasn't, he was back in town and they hated him, for one reason. they hurt their star barrel racer.
wc: 6k
part one
Max pushed open the door to The Rusty Wheel, the familiar creak of its hinges greeting him like an old memory. The low hum of country music drifted from the jukebox in the corner, and the faint smell of spilled beer and worn leather hung in the air. Not much had changed since the last time he’d stepped foot in here, years ago—except, maybe, for the fact that now every pair of eyes in the place was on him.
He ran a hand through his hair and walked over to the bar, pausing only long enough to hang his cowboy hat on one of the hooks by the door. He used to come here every weekend, same as the rest of them. He hadn’t expected the town to change much—but somehow, it felt smaller now. Tighter. Like it didn’t quite fit him anymore.
Before he could take a seat, the owner, Earl, stepped out from behind the bar. Earl was a grizzled old cowboy, his flannel shirt rolled up at the sleeves, a white beard flecked with grey. He stopped in his tracks, wiping his hands on a rag, and gave Max a once-over, his face creasing with disbelief.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Earl muttered, his eyes narrowing. “I didn’t believe it when they told me.”
Max chuckled softly, not missing the edge in Earl’s voice. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“You actually back for good?” Earl asked, still eyeing him like he was trying to decide if he was a mirage.
Max shrugged. “Looks that way.”
Earl grunted, leaning his hands on the bar. “Guess we’ll see how that works out.”
Before Max could reply, a figure appeared beside him, sliding a bottle of beer across the counter. Max glanced up and saw Daniel—his best friend from back in the day—giving him a smirk as he set the beer down. Daniel was leaner now, with a few more lines around his eyes, but he still had the same mischievous glint that had gotten them into trouble as kids.
Daniel raised an eyebrow as he wiped down the bar. “Bold move, man,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, really bold.”
Max took the beer, the cold glass sweating in his grip. “Figured it was time.”
Daniel leaned against the bar, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, well, half the people in this town think you’ve got some nerve coming back after what you did to her.”
Max’s stomach clenched, but he kept his face neutral. He knew it wouldn’t take long for that topic to come up. “And the other half?” he asked, taking a swig from the bottle.
Daniel snorted. “They’re just in awe of what you’ve done with your career. Hell, I’ll admit it—I followed your rides. Man, some of those bulls you took on… I thought you were insane, but you sure made a name for yourself.”
Max nodded, setting the bottle back down on the bar. “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”
Daniel tilted his head, studying him. “That right? Because last time I checked, you were in all the magazines, got sponsors throwing money at you, and about a million followers watching your every move. That doesn’t sound like a bad deal.”
Max sighed, leaning his elbows on the bar. “It was great for a while. But the thing is, they don’t see the rest of it. The part where you wake up and don’t know where you are half the time. Or when you’re trying to remember which interviews you’ve already done or whose hand you shook at some event you didn’t even want to go to.” He shook his head, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. “Everyone thinks they want that life until they get it.”
Daniel didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched him, the silence between them hanging heavy. Then, after a beat, he nodded. “So why’d you come back? You finally get sick of signing autographs?”
Max’s eyes drifted to the shelves of dusty bottles behind the bar, memories of a simpler life flooding back. The long nights in places like this, where the biggest problem he had was getting enough cash together to fill his tank. Where people knew him as Max, not Max Verstapppen, the famous bull rider plastered on posters across the country.
“Something like that,” he said quietly. “I was never cut out for that big city stuff. The lights, the cameras… all of it.” He paused, running a hand along the neck of the beer bottle, feeling the condensation slick against his skin. “I missed home. The quiet. The way things made sense out here.”
Daniel chuckled, shaking his head. “Home, huh?” He let out a slow breath. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m glad to see you. Always hoped you’d come back. But you know it’s not going to be easy. People here… they don’t forget.”
Max’s jaw tightened, his grip on the bottle a little firmer. “Yeah, I know.”
Daniel stared at him for a long moment, and then his expression softened, some of the teasing edge fading from his voice. “She’s still hurt, you know. Even if she doesn’t show it. You coming back… it’s gonna stir up a lot of things.”
“I figured that,” Max replied, his voice low, almost resigned. “But I had to come back anyway.”
Daniel nodded, his eyes softening. “Well, I hope you know what you’re doing. You’ve got a lot of work to do, man.”
Max took another swig of beer, the cool liquid doing nothing to settle the unease that had been bubbling in his gut since the moment he’d driven into town. “Trust me,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, “I know.”
The sound of the front door creaking open interrupted the conversation, and Max glanced over his shoulder to see a group of locals walking in, laughing and chatting as they made their way to a corner booth. He recognised some of them, faces he hadn’t seen in years, but he wasn’t ready for more conversations, more questions.
Turning back to Daniel, he nodded toward the bar. “Mind if I hang here for a while?”
Daniel smiled, a knowing glint in his eye. “Stay as long as you need. Just don’t expect the town to make it easy on you.”
Max nodded in appreciation, as he sipped his beer, letting the familiar hum of the bar settle around him. The chatter, the music, the faint clink of bottles—it all felt like a song from a time he thought he’d forgotten. But he hadn’t. Not really.
He’d been running from home for so long, he’d forgotten what it felt like to just stand still. And now that he was back, he wasn’t sure what hurt more—the memories of what he’d lost, or the fear of facing the woman he’d left behind.
______________________________________________________________
The next morning, Max stepped out of his truck, the early sun casting long shadows across the gravel driveway of High Ride Stables, Austin. The familiar scent of hay, leather, and horses filled the air, stirring memories he hadn’t thought of in years. It was a place he knew well—he’d worked here as a kid, mucking out stalls and helping with the horses. But today, the barn felt different, like the weight of his past was waiting for him inside.
He pushed open the large wooden door, the creak announcing his arrival. Inside, horses shuffled in their stalls, and the rhythmic thud of hooves echoed from deeper within. He glanced around, spotting the counter near the back where Leslie, the barn’s owner, was talking to one of the stable hands.
Leslie had been running this barn for as long as he could remember. She was tough as nails, with streaks of grey in her otherwise jet-black hair and a sharp gaze that could cut through any excuse. The stable hands called her “Les” when she wasn’t listening—if she caught them at it, they'd regret it.
When she saw him, her conversation trailed off, and her expression hardened. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the counter, eyeing him like he’d just tracked mud through her pristine barn.
“Well, look who the cat dragged in,” Leslie drawled, raising an eyebrow. “If it ain’t the hometown hero.”
Max tried to smile, but it fell flat. He took off his hat and held it in front of him. “Morning, Les.”
“Morning,” she replied, her tone flat. “What brings you here?”
“I’m lookin’ for work,” he said, stepping closer, but staying on the other side of the counter like it was a barrier between them. Which, in a way, it was.
Leslie’s eyes narrowed. “Work?” She scoffed, shaking her head. “After all that bull riding fame and fortune, you’re back here beggin’ for a job?”
“Not beggin’,” he muttered, his voice low. “Just askin’.”
She pushed herself off the counter, walking around it and standing toe-to-toe with him, hands on her hips. “Same difference.”
“Come on, Les,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice. “You know how it goes. The fame doesn’t last forever. Sponsors move on, injuries pile up… and the money—well, it dwindles. I can’t live off my bull riding winnings for the rest of my life.”
She crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed. “Sounds like a ‘you’ problem, not a ‘me’ problem.”
Max sighed, glancing around the barn, trying to find the right words. “I grew up here, working in this barn. I know horses, I know the work. You know I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.”
Leslie tilted her head, considering him for a moment. “You really expect me to just hand you a job, after everything?”
He frowned, confused. “After everything?”
She shot him a knowing look. “Don’t play dumb with me, Max. You know who works here.”
His stomach sank, realising where this conversation was heading. Of course, she worked here—why wouldn’t she? It was her world. She’d never left it, never had a reason to. But that didn’t make this any easier.
“I’m not lookin’ to cause any trouble, Les. I just need work,” he said, his voice softening. “I’ll stay out of her way.”
Leslie raised an eyebrow. “Stay out of her way? You can’t just waltz back into this town, askin’ for a job, and think you can just avoid her. This is a small town, boy, not some city where you can hide from the people you’ve wronged.”
Max winced at the word “wronged.” It was blunt, but he couldn’t argue with it. He had wronged her. Maybe more than he even realised.
He took a deep breath, meeting Leslie’s gaze. “I know I messed up. I know I hurt her. But… I need this job, Les. Please.”
Leslie studied him for a long moment, her face unreadable. Then, she turned and walked back to the counter, rummaging through a drawer before pulling out a small notepad. She scribbled something down on it, then tore off the piece of paper and held it out to him.
“Here’s the deal,” she said, her voice cool and matter-of-fact. “I’ll give you a job if you go apologise to her. And not just any apology—she has to forgive you.”
Max stared at her, not taking the paper. His heart raced, a mixture of panic and disbelief. “Les, that’s impossible.”
Leslie crossed her arms again, looking at him with the same steel-eyed determination she always had. “Well, if you think it’s impossible, you don’t want this job bad enough.”
His eyes flicked to the paper in her hand, knowing exactly what was written on it. He didn’t need to look to know it was her address.
“You know she’s not gonna forgive me,” he said quietly, feeling the weight of the past like a stone in his gut.
Leslie gave him a half-smile, but there was no softness in it. “Well, you better get working, boy.”
Max finally took the paper from her hand, the weight of it feeling heavier than it should. He looked down at the address, familiar yet distant, as if it belonged to another lifetime.
“I’m serious,” Leslie said, her voice softening just a bit. “You want a job here? You’ve gotta make things right with her. I won’t have you causing more mess in this barn—or in this town. Either she forgives you, or you pack your bags and keep drivin’.”
Max swallowed hard, tucking the paper into his back pocket. He wanted to argue, to tell her that there was no way in hell she’d ever forgive him. But he knew Leslie well enough to know that there was no arguing with her.
He nodded once, stiffly. “Alright. I’ll… I’ll try.”
Leslie smirked, her eyes gleaming with something he couldn’t quite place. “Good luck. You’ll need it.���
As he turned to leave, the barn door creaked open behind him, and for a split second, his heart froze. He half-expected to see her there, standing in the doorway, glaring at him like she had on that road. But it was just another worker, coming in to start the day.
Max let out a breath, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. It had been one thing to face her the first time, in the heat of the moment. But now… now he had to go, hat in hand, and ask her to forgive him. To admit he was wrong. To dig up all the things he’d been trying to bury for years.
He shoved his hat back on his head and walked out of the barn, the piece of paper burning a hole in his pocket. The road ahead of him felt longer than it had ever been.
The next day, Max stood at the front steps of the small house, nerves twisting in his stomach like a coiled rope. He stared at the chipped paint on the door, feeling the weight of years pressing down on him. This was the house he’d been avoiding ever since he set foot back in town. And now, here he was—about to knock.
He took a deep breath, raising his fist and rapping his knuckles on the door. The sound echoed in the still morning air, louder than it had any right to be. For a moment, he thought maybe she wouldn’t answer, maybe he could just turn around and—
The door swung open.
She stood in the doorway, her eyes narrowing the second she saw him. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun, and she wore an old flannel shirt that he recognised—one she stole off of him when they were kids. She didn’t look surprised to see him. If anything, she looked like she’d been expecting him.
“Nope,” she said flatly, her hand already on the door, ready to slam it shut. “Not happening.”
“Wait,” Max said, holding up his hands. “Just… just hear me out for a minute.”
“I don’t think I need to,” she shot back, her voice cold. “I’ve already heard enough.”
“Darling, please—”
“Do not call me ‘darling,’” she snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut. Her eyes flashed with anger, and Max felt the sting of it, like a whip cracking against his skin. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.”
Max took a step back, raising his hands defensively. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“You didn’t mean?” she interrupted, her voice rising, filled with a raw, seething rage that had been simmering for eight long years. “What, Max? You didn’t mean to leave me in a hospital bed without a word? You didn’t mean to disappear without so much as a goddamn goodbye?”
He swallowed hard, the guilt gnawing at him like it always did when he thought about that day. “I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to face you.”
She let out a bitter laugh, crossing her arms over her chest as if to protect herself from him. “So, you just ran? That’s your excuse?”
“I wasn’t running,” Max muttered, but the words felt hollow even to him. He’d been running for years—he knew it, and so did she.
“Bullshit,” she spat, her eyes blazing. “You’ve been running your whole damn life. When things get hard, you don’t face them—you just pack your bags and leave. That’s what you did to me, and that’s what you’ve been doing ever since.”
He opened his mouth to argue, to tell her that wasn’t true, but the words died in his throat. She wasn’t wrong. He had run. He’d run the second things got complicated, the second he felt like he was losing control.
“I thought I was doing what was best,” he said finally, his voice quieter, less sure. “I thought you’d hate me if I stayed.”
Her jaw clenched, and she took a step forward, her fists balled at her sides. “You really think I could’ve hated you?” she said, her voice trembling with the weight of years of hurt. “You think I wanted you to just leave me behind like I didn’t matter?”
“I didn’t think I was enough for you!” Max burst out, the frustration and regret spilling out of him. “You were laid up in a hospital bed because of that fall, and I was getting calls about sponsors and competitions. I was torn in two, and I didn’t know what to do! I thought if I stayed, you’d see me as some reminder of what you’d lost, of the future we’d been planning and couldn’t have anymore.”
Her eyes widened, and for a second, the anger flickered, replaced by something else—something rawer, more vulnerable. “So, what? You thought I’d hate you? That I wouldn’t want you anymore? Out of pity?” She shook her head, stepping back from him as if the very thought disgusted her. “Is that what you really think of me?”
Max dragged a hand through his hair, hating how badly this conversation was going. “It wasn’t like that,” he said, his voice pleading now. “I didn’t want to be a burden. You’d just lost everything, and I didn’t want to remind you of the future you couldn’t have anymore. You deserved better than a guy who was barely hanging on.”
“Barely hanging on?” She seethed, her fists trembling. “You didn’t give me the chance to decide that! You didn’t even try to talk to me, to ask me what I wanted. You made that choice for me.”
“I thought I was doing the right thing!” Max shouted back, his frustration boiling over. “I thought if I walked away, you’d move on. You’d be better off without me, and I could… I could disappear before you realised I wasn’t enough.”
She stared at him, her chest heaving, her eyes burning with a mixture of rage and heartbreak. “You think leaving was easier for me? You think watching you drive off without a word made me better off?”
“I wasn’t strong enough to stay,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I thought I’d hurt you more by sticking around. I thought you’d hate me, that you’d look at me and see someone who was staying out of pity.”
“God, Max,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You don’t even get it, do you?”
He swallowed hard, the weight of her words crushing him. “Then tell me,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Tell me what I didn’t see.”
She closed her eyes for a moment, her breath shaky as she tried to compose herself. When she opened them again, there was no anger left—just hurt. “You were everything to me. Everything. And you took that away because you were scared. You left me in that hospital bed, and you didn’t even let me fight for us. You made that choice, and I had to live with it.”
Max felt his chest tighten, the guilt and regret almost suffocating. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so damn sorry.”
Her lip trembled, and for a moment, she looked like she might break. But then, just as quickly, she straightened up, hardening herself again. “Sorry doesn’t fix eight years, Max. Sorry doesn’t undo the fact that you abandoned me when I needed you most.”
He took a step closer, desperate to bridge the distance between them. “I’m here now. I want to make it right.”
She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “It’s not that easy. You don’t get to just walk back into my life and pretend like nothing happened.”
“I’m not asking you to forget,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I know I can’t fix what I did. But I want to try. Please, just give me a chance.”
She stared at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, without another word, she stepped back inside and slammed the door in his face.
Max stood there, staring at the closed door, the sound of it still ringing in his ears. The weight of her words, the pain he’d caused, hung heavy in the air around him.
He slipped his hat back on, the brim casting a shadow over his eyes. As he turned and walked back to his truck, the gravel crunching beneath his boots, he realised something: he’d always been running. But for the first time in his life, he wasn’t sure if he could ever stop.
That night, Max couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned, the weight of her words pressing on his chest like a stone. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her face—angry, hurt, and accusing. It had been easier when he thought he was protecting her by leaving. Now, after their argument, it was clear that all he’d done was rip open a wound neither of them had been able to heal.
With a frustrated groan, he threw off the blankets and sat up in bed. Sleep wasn’t coming—not tonight. He rubbed a hand over his face and glanced at the clock. It was just after midnight, but it felt like the hours were crawling by, leaving him trapped with his thoughts.
His mind wandered to the only place that ever brought him a sense of calm: the rodeo. The old training grounds on the outskirts of town where he’d spent countless nights like this, working out his frustrations with the one thing he understood—bull riding. He hadn’t been back there in years, but tonight, it felt like the only place he could go to clear his head.
Throwing on a pair of jeans and his boots, Max grabbed his jacket and slipped out of the house, the cool night air hitting his face as he headed to his truck.
The rodeo grounds were quiet when he pulled up, the faint glow of the moon casting long shadows over the empty bleachers. The scent of dirt and leather filled his lungs, familiar and comforting in a way that nothing else had been since he’d come back to town. He walked toward the arena, the sounds of his boots crunching on gravel the only thing breaking the silence.
As he got closer, something caught his eye. Movement in the arena. At first, he thought it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but then he saw her.
She was on horseback, weaving through the barrels in the dim moonlight, her movements graceful and precise. It was like watching a memory come to life. She moved with a fluidity that made it look effortless, but Max knew better. He’d seen the hours she used to put in, the work that went into every sharp turn, every quick burst of speed. She hadn’t lost her touch.
He stopped at the edge of the arena, standing just out of sight, not wanting to disturb her. For a moment, he just watched, his chest tightening as he remembered how much she loved this—how much they had loved this world together.
Then, it happened. As she rounded the last barrel, something went wrong. Maybe her horse misstepped, maybe she pushed too hard, but in an instant, she was thrown off, hitting the ground hard. Her horse skittered to the side, startled by the fall.
Before he could stop himself, Max was moving. He vaulted over the fence and ran toward her, his heart pounding in his chest. She was sitting up by the time he reached her, dusting off her jeans with a wince.
“Who the fuck did I piss off in my past life for you to be the one to find me?” she muttered, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she glanced up at him.
Max skidded to a halt, a little breathless, and held up his hands in surrender. “I was just passing by. You okay?”
She shot him a glare that could’ve melted steel. “Like you care.”
He didn’t argue, just crouched down beside her, unsure of what else to do. “How can I help?”
“Help?” She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You really think you can help now, after everything?”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly, his voice softer than before. “But I’m trying.”
She rolled her eyes, but her usual fire seemed to be dimmed, just a little. “Doctor’s orders,” she said finally, wincing as she shifted her leg. “You wanna help? Raise my leg and keep it elevated for fifteen minutes.”
Max hesitated for a moment, unsure if she was messing with him or not. But the way she was holding her side, the tightness in her face, told him this was real.
He nodded and carefully slid his arm under her leg, lifting it gently and resting it on his knee. She didn’t protest, but she also didn’t look at him. They sat there in silence, the tension between them as thick as the night air.
The minutes dragged by, and Max could feel every second of it. He kept his gaze focused on the ground, resisting the urge to say something—anything—to break the silence. But she was the one who spoke first.
“You should’ve stayed gone,” she said quietly, her voice lacking the venom it usually held.
Max swallowed hard, his throat dry. “I couldn’t.”
“You mean you didn’t want to. Big difference.” She still wasn’t looking at him, her focus trained on the darkened arena ahead of them.
He shifted slightly, careful not to jostle her leg. “I missed this place,” he said after a long pause. “Missed the people. Missed… you.”
She scoffed, but there was less bite to it. “You missed me? Is that why you didn’t call for eight years? ‘Cause you missed me?”
“I didn’t know how,” he admitted, his voice low. “I thought you’d moved on. I thought it was easier for you if I wasn’t in the picture.”
“Easier?” She let out a humourless laugh. “Do you even hear yourself, Max? You just disappeared. You didn’t even give me the chance to move on, to deal with any of it. You just left, and I had to pick up the pieces.”
He clenched his jaw, the guilt settling deep in his chest. “I thought I was doing what was best.”
“Stop saying that,” she snapped, finally turning to look at him. Her eyes were filled with anger, but underneath it was something else—something softer, more vulnerable. “You keep saying that like it was some noble thing you did, but all you did was make a decision for both of us. You never even asked me what I wanted.”
Max opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. She was right. He hadn’t asked. He’d just assumed.
They fell into silence again, the weight of the unspoken things between them pressing down like a heavy fog.
After what felt like forever, she sighed, leaning back against the fence, her leg still resting on his knee. “You know,” she said quietly, “there was a time when I would’ve given anything to hear you say you missed me. But now… I don’t even know what to do with that.”
Max looked at her, his chest tightening at the sight of her so close, yet so far away. “I’m trying,” he said softly. “I know I messed up. I know I can’t fix what I did, but I’m here now. I want to make it right.”
She didn’t respond, just stared out at the empty arena, her face unreadable.
The silence stretched between them, and Max could feel the weight of it settling in his bones. He wanted to say more, to tell her everything that had been building inside him for years. But the words felt too small, too insignificant for the damage he’d caused.
After a long while, she spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know if it’s enough.”
Max’s heart clenched, but he nodded. “I get that,” he said quietly. “But I’m not going anywhere this time.”
She didn’t say anything else, and the two of them sat there in the quiet of the rodeo grounds, with nothing but the stars and the distant sounds of the horses to keep them company.
For the first time in years, it wasn’t the silence that felt unbearable. It was the hope buried somewhere beneath it.
She shifted slightly, wincing a bit as she adjusted her leg on his knee. Max kept his hold steady, though every muscle in him was tense. He was waiting, unsure if she’d kick him out of her life again or keep him suspended in this strange limbo they found themselves in.
“What was it like?” she asked suddenly, her voice soft but cutting through the stillness. She didn’t look at him, just kept her eyes trained on the horizon, as if the answer was out there somewhere in the night sky. “To make it big? To live that life?”
Max glanced at her, surprised by the question. For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to respond. His instinct was to downplay it, to gloss over the highs and lows like he had so many times before when people asked. But this wasn’t just anyone asking—it was her.
He took a deep breath. “It was everything I thought it’d be,” he started, his voice low. “At first, anyway. The crowds, the money, the fame… it was wild. Everything moved so fast. One minute I was just this kid from nowhere, the next I was on posters, doing interviews, getting invited to places I’d never even dreamed of.”
He paused, rubbing the back of his neck as the memories flooded back. “The adrenaline—it’s like nothing else. Every ride, every victory, it felt like I was on top of the world. But the crashes… they’re just as big. Bigger, even.”
She listened quietly, her face unreadable. He wasn’t sure if she cared or if she was just being polite, but he kept going, needing to get it out.
“There were nights when I’d lie awake in a hotel room, hundreds of miles from home, and wonder what the hell I was doing,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “I was surrounded by people all the time, but I never felt more alone. It was like… like I was chasing something, and no matter how far I got, I couldn’t catch it. Every high came with a low, and after a while, the lows started outweighing everything else.”
She still didn’t say anything, her eyes fixed on the stars. He looked down at the ground, the dirt beneath his boots feeling more real than anything had in a long time.
“I got tired of it,” he confessed after a long pause. “Tired of the crowds, the noise, the pressure to be something I wasn’t sure I wanted to be anymore. I missed this place. I missed…” He trailed off, but she didn’t need him to finish the sentence. They both knew what he meant.
Finally, she turned her head slightly, her eyes finding his. “And you think you can just come back?” she asked, her voice steady but tinged with something bitter, something hurt. “After all of that? Just walk back into this life like nothing happened?”
Max swallowed hard. “No,” he said quietly. “I don’t think that. I know I can’t just… fix things. I’m not here to pretend that the past didn’t happen.”
She looked at him for a long moment, her gaze sharp, cutting through the quiet. “Why should I trust you?”
He didn’t flinch at the question. He’d been expecting it, waiting for it.
“You don’t have to,” he answered honestly, meeting her eyes. “I know I haven’t earned that. Not yet. Maybe not ever.”
Her jaw clenched, and she turned her gaze back to the arena. “You hurt me, Max. You didn’t just leave—you disappeared. Like I meant nothing.”
“I know,” he whispered, the words heavy with regret. “And I’m so damn sorry. If I could take it all back, I would.”
“Sorry isn’t enough,” she said, her voice trembling just slightly. “You don’t get to come back after eight years and expect me to forget what that felt like.”
He nodded, his throat tight. “I’m not asking you to forget. Or even to forgive me right away. I just want a chance to make things right. To prove that I’m not that guy anymore.”
She didn’t respond, just sat there in the silence, her leg still resting on his knee. It was a strange kind of intimacy—one built on years of unresolved hurt, but also on something deeper. Something neither of them wanted to name yet.
After a while, she sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. “Nothing ever changed here, you know,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. “While you were out there, living that big life, everything just… stayed the same. The same people, the same rodeos, the same barns. It was like I was stuck while you were off becoming someone else.”
Max’s chest tightened at her words. He couldn’t imagine what that must’ve felt like, to watch the world move on without her, to feel left behind. And worse, to know he was part of the reason she felt that way.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, the words feeling inadequate, but it was all he had. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to leave you stuck. I thought you’d move on. I thought you’d—”
“Stop thinking,” she cut in, her voice sharp again, though there was a weariness in her eyes. “You keep telling yourself you did what was best for me, but you never asked me what I wanted. You just decided for both of us.”
He nodded, taking the hit. She was right, and he wasn’t going to argue with that.
She shifted again, pulling her leg off his knee and standing up, brushing the dirt off her jeans. Max stood too, though he kept his distance, unsure of what to do next. The tension between them was still there, heavy and thick, but something had changed. There was a crack in the wall she’d built around herself, just a small one, but it was there.
“Look,” she said after a long pause, her voice softer now. “I don’t know what you expect to happen. I don’t know if I can ever trust you again. But… I don’t hate you. Not anymore. I thought I did, for a long time. But it’s just… it’s hard to hate someone you used to love that much.”
His heart stuttered in his chest at the word “love.” Even though it was in the past tense, it still felt like a lifeline.
“I don’t expect anything,” he said quietly. “I just want to be here. Whatever that looks like.”
She gave him a long look, her eyes searching his face as if she was trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. Finally, she nodded, just once. “We’ll see.”
It wasn’t a promise. It wasn’t even close. But it was something.
She turned and started walking toward her truck, her steps slow, like she was still testing how much she could trust the ground beneath her.
Max watched her go, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, the weight of the past still pressing on him. But for the first time in a long time, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he had a chance.
And he wasn’t going to waste it.
part three
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fic#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#max verstappen angst#red bull f1#red bull racing#formula one x you#formula one x oc#formula one#formula 1#f1 drivers#f1 tumblr#angst#bull rider au
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married in vegas -quinn hughes-
summary: on a trip to vegas one summer, y/n and quinn are forced to share a room. after a night at the casino, the two of them wake up with rings and matching tattoos, leaving them to question what their relationship really means
word count: 6.9k
pairing: quinn hughes x reader
notes & warnings: lowercase intentional. kinda based off ‘stupid in love’ by MAX. wanted to write a little frenemies-to-lovers fic & was pleasantly surprised with the result. hope you guys like it. there will be a part 2 😊 w: language, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex but no smut
masterlist
“why are you two idiots looking at me like that?” y/n set her suitcase down outside the door and glanced between her best friend and his brother. “jack, please tell me why you guys keep exchanging that look.”
“promise you won’t kill me. or luke.”
“fine. just get on with it.”
“you’re gonna be sharing the room with quinn for the week.”
“okay now you’re just joking. please tell me you’re joking.” she let out a soft chuckle but when she noticed how their looks stayed serious, she stopped. “no. this can’t be happening.”
“i’m sorry but we used a random name picker to determine the room sharing situation.”
“that’s a ridiculous way to choose a roommate. i call a do over.”
“there’s no point in trying, y/n. i already tried to get them to change their minds but those two idiots are dead set on making us miserable all week.” quinn leaned against the doorframe and looked at the three people before him. “oh, want to know the most interesting part?” his voice was laced with sarcasm but y/n easily caught on.
“oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” she pushed past him and stopped in her tracks when she saw the room. “one damn bed? come on, jack. what did i ever do to you guys?”
“oh relax. you act like sharing a room with me is the end of the world.”
“10 minutes ago, the idea was tolerable at best. but now, it’s torturous.”
“ouch.” quinn feigned heartbreak and chuckled. “if i cared, that probably would’ve hurt. but seeing as how i don’t care, i’m gonna move on with my life. feel free to sleep on the chair if you don’t want to share with me.”
“you’re insufferable.” y/n rolled her eyes and went to grab her bag.
“no. allow me.” jack was quick to grab it for her and discard it in the room. “i promise to make this whole thing up to you when we get home.”
“i’ll hold you to that.” y/n sighed and waited for quinn to claim the bed. when he took a little longer in the hallway with his brothers, y/n took the opportunity to lay down. just as she was about to close her eyes, the door opened and quinn walked in. he noticed her laying on the bed and got down to where he could be at eye level with the near-sleeping girl.
“uh, what do you think you’re doing?”
“shhh. trying to nap.” she reached her finger out and dragged it down his face. quinn swatted her hand away in response.
“fine. but move over. i want to sleep too. need the energy for dinner tonight.”
“insufferable i say.” y/n mumbled and scooted to the edge of the bed. quinn walked around it and climbed in.
this was going to be a long week.
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dinner should’ve been easier but for y/n, it was more uncomfortable than the nap she attempted to take a few hours earlier.
“what do you think he’s even doing over there? the waitress is way out of his league.” quinn watched as jack chatted with the waitress up at the hostess podium.
“first of all, if anything, jack is out of her league. he’s too good for anyone. and second, why do you care what he’s doing? at least he’s having fun.” y/n shoved her fork into her desert and nibbled at it.
“i’m starting to think you have a little crush on jack.” quinn smirked, knowing that that’s exactly what was going on.
“what? i do not.” y/n shook her head and went to kick him under the table.
“ouch.” luke winced and rubbed his shin.
“oops. sorry luke. i was aiming for the idiot beside you.” she shot quinn a look and he quickly returned it. “you never told me why you cared so much that he was flirting with the waitress.”
“it doesn’t matter and even if it did, you don’t need to know. it’s none of your business.” quinn’s voice raised a little, causing y/n to shrink back in her seat a bit.
“y-you’re right. it was a stupid question.” she returned her attention to her nearly empty plate.
even though she and quinn weren’t exactly friends, she had never been on the receiving end of one of his rare angry outbursts. she hated to admit it but it stung a little bit.
“do you guys mind if i head back up to the room? i’m exhausted.”
“yeah sure. no problem.” luke looked at his friend and smiled sympathetically. he could tell what quinn said had effected her.
“i’ll be up later.” quinn didn’t even bother to look up as y/n stood up and walked out. and when jack returned to the table, luke told him what happened.
quinn felt bad when he heard luke recall the events he was a part of not even 5 minutes ago. he never intended to hurt y/n.
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the next 3 days, y/n avoided quinn as much as she could. it was difficult when they shared a room and they were both there to spend time with luke and jack.
during group outings, y/n would excuse herself and she would never return, instilling panic in the three brothers. but at night, when quinn would get back to their shared room, he would catch sight of how peaceful the girl looked when she slept.
the first few nights, quinn didn’t want to disturb her so he ended up on the chair in the corner. but on the 4th night, quinn was unable to sleep.
y/n had been tossing and turning for almost an hour before her body sat upright and she started bawling. something bothered her and she searched the room for another presence. her eyes landed on quinn as he rushed over to her.
“hey. what’s wrong?”
“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to wake you. p-please go back to sleep, quinn.”
“not until you tell me what you were just dreaming of.” he carefully reached up to wipe her tears off her cheeks, silently urging her to tell him what was on her mind.
30 minutes later and every significant detail of her nightmare had been explained. she feared that jack was growing tired of her friendship and wanted to end it with her.
and even though it was just a dream, quinn felt the urge to make sure his brother would never leave her. he wanted to use any means necessary to make sure if it.
but he knew jack would never do that. he loved y/n tremendously.
just as quinn stood back up and headed for the chair again, y/n stopped him.
“hey, thanks again for listening to my nonsense.”
“it’s not a problem. and it wasn’t nonsense. it was a legitimate fear of yours and i’m glad you felt comfortable enough to share it with me.”
“believe it or not, i’m always comfortable with you, quinn.”
“that’s not what you were saying the first day we got here.” he chuckled.
“that version of me is the old y/n. i’ve matured since then.”
“maybe just a little.” he sat on the chair and tried to get comfortable again. “good night, y/n.”
“quinn, would you mind coming over here to share the bed?” y/n had her back to him so she couldn’t see his eyes widen at the question & he couldn’t see the way her face scrunched up when the words flew out of her mouth. she opened her mouth to take it back but quinn smiled.
“of course i wouldn’t mind sharing tonight.”
“yay.” she laid on her back and stared at the ceiling. her fingers drummed lightly on her stomach and quinn glanced over at her.
“how are you doing now?”
“better. thanks again. jacks usually the person i run to when i have a nightmare, even if he’s involved. but this one would’ve been harder to explain without telling him how i feel.”
“so, you do have feelings for him?” quinn raised an eyebrow and glanced over at her.
“of course i do!” y/n rubbed her face slowly. “i’d be an idiot not to. god, he’s perfect.”
something about the way she talked about jack, stirred something in quinn that he did not recognize.
“yeah. i suppose he is. everyone else thinks so. it was only a matter of time before you thought so too.”
“you sound a little bitter about it, quinny.” y/n glanced over at him, only to find him already looking at her.
“i’m not bitter, per say. but maybe just once, i would liked to be picked over jack or luke.”
“hey,” y/n turned on her side to get a better look at the oldest hughes. “the day is gonna come when you meet someone who prefers you over your brothers. and she’s going to love you so much that what’s happening now won’t even matter to you. because she’s going to be the only thing you think about. she’s going to consume your every thought and soon enough, you’ll have what you’ve always wanted. someone who picks you first every time.”
“you really think so?”
“yes of course. you’re pretty special, quinn.” y/n offered him a kind smile, which he returned. “i can’t believe i’m being nice right now.”
“yeah i know. it’s weird.” quinn shook his head and chuckled. “but thank you.”
“you’re welcome.” she smiled again and instead of returning to her position on her back, she stayed facing him. “thank you as well.”
“for what?”
“being here. you know, letting me talk to you about my nightmare. even if it was stupid.” she fiddled with her fingers and quinn reached out to stop it.
“it was not stupid. i told you like 20 minutes ago that it was alright.”
“oh. did you?” she glanced down at where quinn’s hands entrapped her own. “i’m sorry for repeating myself then. sometimes the anxiety is bad.”
“hey, you never have to apologize to me. okay?”
“okay.” she looked at him and smiled. suddenly, the atmosphere was different. almost like the both of them were aware of the tension in the room.
quinn opened his mouth to say something but y/n yawned.
“i’m tired, but i don’t want this rare moment to be over.”
“get some sleep. i’m not leaving. i’ll be here when you wake up, alright?” he cautiously reached up to move a piece of her hair out of her face.
“okay. good night quinn.” she closed her eyes and mere seconds later, her breathing evened out and light snores came from her. quinn let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and fell asleep too.
the whole night, he never let go of her hands.
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when y/n woke up the next morning and noticed the grip quinn had on her hands, she couldn’t help but smile.
sure she had feelings for jack but there was no denying how attractive quinn was, not only on the outside, but the inside as well.
y/n spent the next 5 minutes just admiring his face before he started to stir. she closed her eyes as if to pretend she hadn’t been looking at him, but quinn caught on.
part of him felt her eyes on him & he couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips. when she opened her eyes again, quinn smiled.
“good morning.”
“good morning, quinn.”
“how did you sleep?”
“if i’m being honest, better last night than the entire week so far.”
“really?”
“yeah. it’s almost like there was a calming presence nearby that helped me sleep better.”
“yeah i know what you mean.” he chuckled and reluctantly let go of her hands. his own hands felt colder as he let her stretch her body out.
“do the boys have anything planned today?”
“i think the only thing we were gonna do was go to the casino later tonight.”
“oh that sounds fun.” she smiled and looked over at quinn. “and what time was that supposed to take place tonight?”
“not until after dark i believe.”
“good. because i really don’t want to get out of bed right now.”
“yeah. me either.” he closed his eyes and for the first time all week, he was happy to be this close to y/n.
the two of them enjoyed their five minutes of peace, happily enjoying the moment.
however, the moment was interrupted when jack knocked on the door. quinn hopped off the bed and answered it.
“good morning. glad to see you two haven’t killed each other yet.” he chuckled and looked behind quinn as y/n approached the door.
“might have to kill you for ruining my beauty sleep, asshole.”
“oh come on. you don’t need it anyway.” jack smiled, causing y/n to turn her head so he couldn’t notice the way her cheeks brightened.
quinn caught it though and he felt his heart drop. he had hoped their moment, however short it might’ve been, would’ve changed how she felt about jack.
but he was just a fool. she was too good for him. too good for jack too. but he would never admit it.
“anyway, you guys up for getting some breakfast?”
“i could eat.” y/n quickly turned her attention to quinn. “how about you, quinny?”
“food sounds delicious.” he painted on a smile as his younger brothers eyes never left y/n.
“perfect. get dressed and meet us down in the lobby in 30 minutes?”
“see you then.” y/n shut the door and headed over to her bag.
“so i noticed something just now.”
“and what could that be?” y/n walked into the bathroom with her clothes. she shut the door and turned on the shower.
“jack might be into you.”
the bathroom door flew open and y/n eyed quinn suspiciously. “you’re lying.”
“his attention never left you. he had him captivated from the moment you appeared behind me. it was like i wasn’t even there.”
“nonsense, quinn.” she walked over to him. “jack doesn’t like me.”
“say what you want, but i could tell.” he watched as y/n grabbed her hairbrush and returned to the bathroom.
after her shower, quinn got in and did what he had to do. when he walked out, y/n was attempting to put her necklace on.
her eyes met quinn’s through the mirror. she didn’t have to say anything to him. he walked up and clasped the necklace together behind her neck and smiled.
“thank you. i was about to lose my mind there.”
“now, don’t do that.” he chuckled and unplugged his phone. “let’s go.”
the two of them walked out to meet the boys in the lobby.
breakfast should be interesting.
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although luke wasn’t old enough to actually gamble in the casino, they still allowed him to sit back and watch as everyone else lost money. he stuck with quinn while jack was with y/n.
quinn watched his brother and y/n exchange looks while they sat at the blackjack table. their laughs echoed in quinn’s ears and he turned his attention back to his youngest brother.
“quinn, can i ask you something?”
“sure, luke. what’s up?”
“you and y/n? has that happened yet or are you still hiding your feelings from her?”
“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” quinn sipped his drink and looked around.
“i’m young, not stupid.” luke rolled his eyes. “you’ve been getting increasingly worried about her all week and you can barely take your eyes off of her. you’re also holding your drink so tight that your knuckles are turning white. is everything okay?”
“yeah. just think she could do better than jack. she’s too good for him.”
“are you hoping she realizes she’s in love with you, and not jack? because i honestly don’t think she has the same feelings for jack that you think she does.”
“she told me last night how she felt about jack. i can tell when she’s lying and she was definitely telling the truth. she thinks he’s perfect.”
“but doesn’t everybody? you know it doesn’t necessarily mean she has feelings for him just because she shares the same opinion as everyone else in the world.” luke eyed his brother. “and i’m sure if you told her how you felt, you’d have a decent chance.”
“whatever, luke.” quinn waves his brother away and watched as he joined jack at the blackjack table.
y/n excused herself from the brothers and made her way to where quinn was sitting at another table.
“so, luke tells me you’ve been losing a bit of money over here.”
“don’t believe a thing he says.” quinn finished his drink and chuckled. “kid is a liar.”
“are you sure about that? because your chip pile is looking pretty low there, quinn.”
“it’s just a small hiccup in the road. i’ll figure it out.” he placed a chip on the the number 22, her favorite number, and waited.
“whatever you say. i’m gonna go try my luck at the slots or something.” y/n patted his shoulder and went to walk away but quinn stopped her.
“wait hold on.” he pointed to the table, more specifically at the roulette wheel where the ball had stopped on the 22 spot. “i want to test something. pick a number.”
“um, 19.” y/n watched as quinn placed half his chips on the number 19. “what are you doing? are you insane?”
“just trust me on this.” he held her wrist gently and together they watched the ball spin around the wheel and when it stopped, y/n’s eyes widened. the ball had landed in the 19 spot. quinn looked up at her. “want to try again?”
“let’s go with 6.” she slid some chips over and they waited. again, the ball landed where they needed it to and the chips multiplied.
“i’m starting to believe you’re a lucky charm.”
“i’m sure that’s all you, quinn.” she rested her hand on his shoulder gently. despite not believing she was a lucky charm, she stuck around quinn for the rest of the night. he kept winning with every number she picked, even if she picked the same number twice in a row. that was highly unlikely but it happened.
after roulette, they went around the place to every game and continued winning each time.
by the time jack and luke informed them they were heading to bed, quinn had nearly quadrupled what he started with. although they wanted to stay and be happy for their brother, sleep crept in on both of them. they said their good nights and went up to their room.
but the night was far from over for y/n and quinn.
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y/n didn’t remember getting back to the room last night but when she woke up, she felt something on her finger and there was a sharp pain on her left shoulder. she looked at her hand and her eyes widened.
her gaze went down to a sleeping quinn and she looked at his finger too, just for good measure. he had a ring on his finger too.
“quinn, wake up!”
“what do you want?”
“look at your ring finger.” y/n sighed. quinn glanced at his right hand and rolled his eyes.
“there’s nothing there.”
“the other finger, idiot.”
quinn pulled his hand into his lines of sight and gasped. “do you-“
“yup. bright and shiny.”
“oh please tell me we didn’t get married last night.” he rubbed his eyes roughly, as if trying to clear the image from his mind. “how much did we drink last night?”
“i don’t remember.” y/n glanced down and noticed how little clothing she had on. “quinn, i have a question.”
“what now?”
“do you by any chance have any clothes on?”
“um,” he lifted the comforter and set it back down. “no i do not.”
“crap.” y/n quickly grabbed her clothes and threw them on. she was about to pull the shirt over her head when quinn stopped her.
“when did you get that?”
“get what?”
“the tattoo.”he pointed to her left shoulder. “it’s cute.”
“i don’t know.” she sighed again and looked at quinn. “you got one too. it’s a moon.”
“do you suppose we got so drunk last night that we got matching tattoos and then got married?”
“and then came back and...you know? yeah i think that’s exactly what happened. but who let us drink that much and why can’t we remember anything?”
“i don’t know. maybe luke and jack know more than we do.”
“highly unlikely, seeing as how they went to bed way before us.”
“good point.” quinn scratched his beard and looked at his hand. “i’m really sorry.”
“for what?”
“i feel like this is all my fault.”
“what do you mean?”
“i made you stay with me all night because my luck turned around when you joined me at the roulette table. if i hadn’t done that, we wouldn’t have tattoos and we wouldn’t be married.”
“while that may be true, think about it. would you rather be married to your brothers best friend or a complete stranger? because that could’ve happened too.”
“you. definitely you.” he chuckled and looked at her. she was already staring at him. “what?”
“you should see your back.” y/n shook her head. “what the fuck happened last night?”
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quinn and y/n spent the rest of the afternoon avoiding the boys and trying to find out what occurred last night.
they went to the casino and decided to go to the dealer at the blackjack table, as it was the last place they remember being.
he informed them that after they were served a few drinks, quinn had the bright idea to go get some more. he apparently returned with a tray full of shots, unaware just how strong they were.
“you guys downed the shots no problem then left. sorry i couldn’t be more helpful.”
they walked away slowly and when they were outside the building, they looked down the street.
“which place do you think we got hitched?”
“i don’t know. there’s so many chapels here.” quinn sighed. he was clearly frustrated that he didn’t have the whole story. “it’s not like we can go around asking every chapel.”
“we could but that would be too time consuming.” y/n thought for a moment. “wait. i remember running into some korean elvis impersonator. we could ask about that. someone’s gotta know where he is.”
“worth a shot.” quinn shrugged and followed his wife down the street.
after hours of searching, they were about to give up hope.
“why are we trying to find out the story behind our wedding instead of getting it annulled?”
“that’s a good point.” quinn looked at her. “do you not like being married to me or something though?”
“quinn, we’re 24 years old and we got hitched. we’re not dating and it wasn’t planned. besides, when i told your mom i would marry one of her sons, i promised she could be there. she’d be crushed to know i did it without her. i also didn’t expect to marry you. always thought it would be jack.”
“we have one more day in vegas before we head our separate ways. why don’t we take the rest of tonight to let it sink in and if we feel an annulment is needed in the morning, we can do that.”
“i still can’t believe we got married.”
“don’t forget the tattoos.”
“or the consummation of our marriage.” y/n didn’t feel disgusted about hooking up with quinn. part of her felt like they were meant to end up together, no matter how much she liked jack.
y/n thought dinner that night would be a little difficult.
while they were getting ready, y/n’s ring got stuck. quinn tried to get it off but it wouldn’t budge. he had originally taken his off but when they determined y/n would have to keep hers on, he slid his back onto his finger. if the boys asked questions, they would give them answers.
luckily, neither of them noticed. well if they did, neither of them said anything about it.
back in the hotel room later that night, while y/n and quinn were getting ready for bed, there was a knock on the door. quinn got up to answer it while y/n peaked her head out of the bathroom.
“good evening, mr and mrs hughes. we have some complimentary champagne for the newlyweds.” the man in the hallway pushed a cart into the room and stared at them. “we also have this special dessert for you two and if you would like, we could upgrade you to the honeymoon suite. it’s much larger.”
“thank you, but-“ quinn started but he was quickly interrupted.
“thanks for the champagne and dessert. we will let you know about the room upgrade.” y/n ushered the man out and when she was sure he was gone, she let out a sigh of relief. “okay how many people knew we got married?”
“i have no idea. but why didn’t you tell him we aren’t married?”
“free dessert, duh. oh and champagne.” she picked up the bottle and grabbed two glasses before making her way to the bed. “do you want some?”
“yeah sure.”
the two of them sat cross-legged on the bed, facing each other as y/n poured them each a glass. she handed one to quinn and smiled.
“to....i don’t know what to toast about.”
“let’s toast to us.” quinn suggested. “after all, our marriage is the reason we got this in the first place.”
“okay great idea. to us.” y/n clinked her glass with quinn’s and downed the first glass quickly. “that was delicious.”
“i agree.” quinn poured the next two glasses and about 4 more after that. “being married is fun. why didn’t i think of this sooner?”
“maybe because we’re idiots and it’s not actually real.”
“but it could be, right?”
“you’re drunk. i think it’s time for bed, quinny.” y/n grabbed his empty glass and set them both on the nightstand before getting off the bed. quinn reaches out to grab her hand before she got too far.
“can we share the bed tonight?”
“i guess.” y/n looked at him and climbed under the covers with quinn.
“maybe one day, i’ll find someone like you. someone who’s too good for the world and way out of my league. hopefully she’ll love me because i feel like i deserve it, you know. maybe someday, i can find someone who loves me the way you love jack.”
“i do not love jack. it’s just a small thing. a crush at best.” y/n looked at quinn and sighed heavily. “but i understand what you mean. hopefully i’ll also find someone who loves me the way i deserve.”
“oh you for sure will.” quinn moves hair out of y/n’s face and let his fingers gently graze her cheek before bringing his hand back to rest under his head. “jack is an idiot, you know.”
“i’m sure you’re right, but why?”
“he just is.”
“come on, quinny. humor me.”
“jacks an idiot because he could’ve had you this entire time but instead, he fumbled his chance. and for what? a snooty blonde who’s only nice when she wants something? a bitch who thinks she’s better than everyone? a girl who thinks she’s the most beautiful person on the earth? no. he should’ve opened his eyes so he could see that the most beautiful human being was always right in front of him. and not just on the outside, but the inside too. you’re the only girl in jack’s life that cares not just about him, but his family and friends too. you put everyone else’s happiness before your own and every day that i know you, it just makes me love you. so much.”
“quinn, i don’t-“
“i know i’m a little drunk but i really wish this marriage was real.”
and before y/n could respond to the confession, quinn was fast asleep.
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y/n couldn’t sleep. she tried and was almost there but somewhere around 1:30, quinn wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his chest, whispering that he’d protect her, into her ear.
6:30 rolled around and she slowly got out of bed. she went into the bathroom to get a glass of water and some advil for quinn before doing the same for herself.
she took a seat in the chair and looked at quinn as he slept.
was his confession last night only because he was drunk? or did he mean it?
when quinn started to stir, he opened his eyes and noticed the water. he let out a chuckle and smiled.
“she really is perfect.” he sat up and that’s when he noticed y/n in the chair. “oh. i didn't see you there. good morning.”
“good morning, quinn. how are you feeling?”
“i’m actually feeling great. um, how are you?” he took the advil and sipped his water.
"i'm good." she fiddled with her fingers in her lap. quinn noticed she was nervous about something so he got up and knelt down to her level.
"hey, what's wrong? you know you can talk to me."
"do you remember anything from last night?"
"i remember a lot of champagne. that's about it. why?"
"you kind of told me you loved me and that you wished the marriage was real. and right before i could say anything, you fell asleep."
"oh. so that wasn't a dream then?" he chuckled awkwardly.
"nope." she shook her head and avoided eye contact with quinn.
"well, in my defense, i was drunk. sometimes i just say things."
"yeah, right." y/n smiled and finally made eye contact with him. "glad we could get that cleared up."
"yeah me too." quinn smiled. "so i take it you want to go get this marriage thing erased, right?"
"yeah. totally." y/n didn't want the marriage to end and as she looked at quinn, she was more sure than ever that jack was the wrong brother. it's always been quinn.
"let's go then."
y/n and quinn went to walk out the door and they bumped into jack & luke on the way out.
"hey. you guys want to go get breakfast?" luke asked.
"sure. but then after that, we have to go our marriage annulled."
"marriage? when did that happen?"
"i knew you two would get together." luke smiled as he and jack followed their brother.
"it was a mistake. we were drunk and obviously it was stupid." y/n turned to look at the boys, as if trying to gauge a reaction from jack. he avoided her gaze as he walked. quinn did the same thing. "right quinn?"
"yeah, right." he nodded and continued to walk. y/n stayed back with luke and sighed.
"i'm an idiot, luke."
"i'm sure you're right, but why?"
"two days ago, i was so sure i liked jack. but ever since finding out i married quinn, it feels right. but i'm an idiot because he doesn't want to be married. that's why we're getting it erased.
"but i finally had a sister." luke pouted. "look, you and jack could've worked if he wasn't a bigger idiot than you are"
"hey!"
"sorry. but it's true. and then there's you & quinn."
"there is no me and quinn."
"yes there is. and this brings me back to the point of you being an idiot. how can neither of you see that you have feelings for each other and that neither of you want the marriage to end?"
"because we were drunk, luke. it was a-"
"you keep saying it was a mistake but it's not. you two were made for each other. why do you think i rigged the room sharing situation? i knew that if you guys had some moments alone, you could get something from the whole thing. and look at that. you got married. now if you had ended up sharing a room with me, you wouldn't be on your way to an annulment. what a story you have here."
"hold on. did you jsut say you rigged the room thing?"
"not important. what is important now is that you tell quinn how you feel."
"come on you guys. i'm starving." jack called from the other end of the hallway. y/n rolled her eyes and the 4 of them walked into the restaurant.
all throughout breakfast, y/n avoided the looks she was receiving from luke and quinn. instead she focused on the conversation with jack. she told him the details surrounding how she got married to quinn, what little information she had.
when the last bite was swallowed and the plates were taken away, y/n and quinn stood up.
"alright. this shouldn't take long. we'll meet you guys back here in about an hour. sound good?"
"yeah. hope it goes smoothly." jack and luke waved goodbye and the 4 of them went their separate ways.
🏒❤🏒❤🏒❤🏒
while y/n and quinn waited for their names to be called into the office, quinn looked around the room and y/n played with the string of her hoodie.
"what are you thinking about?" quinn asked when he noticed she was fidgeting.
"just life and all the decisions i've made to get me where i am today."
"lots of mistakes?"
"yeah. for sure." y/n sighed. "wanna know my biggest mistake?"
"was it this marriage?"
"what? no, of course not." y/n looked at him. "why? do you think it was a mistake?"
"getting off topic. what was your biggest mistake?"
"danny marcel."
"oh no. i forgot about him. he was terrible. always wanted to punch his face in whenever he was around. he always said the rudest things to you. how did you deal with it for so long?"
"you don't want to know." she shook her head, causing quinn to chuckle. "why did you want to punch him in the face?"
"he wasn't a nice person and maybe because i cared about you."
"you did?"
"of course i did. i mean, i still care about you. and i know i'm not the best at showing it but-"
"y/n & quinn?" the receptionist moved from behind the desk and guided them into another room. a kind looking older man sat at the desk. he offered them a smile when they entered.
"it's nice to meet you both & i hope i can get you what you came here for."
"we would appreciate that, sir. thank you."
"great. now before we go through with this, i want to make sure that this is something you'll both want. and seeing as how mr hughes has all the assets, i gotta know that you guys have already discussed that."
"we haven't yet, sir. but i don't want anything." y/n looked at quinn.
"excellent." he looked down at the papers in front of him and smiled. "so are you both sure this is what you want?"
"yes sir." they said at the same time wile sharing a look. the man slid a pen and the papers across his desk.
"great. now i'm just gonna need you to both sign this line here." he tapped the page with the pen and handed it to y/n. just as she was about to sign it, quinn put his hand over hers.
"wait." he removed his hand before looking at y/n. "i'm not sure i want this to be over."
"but i thought-"
"i thought so too. but after the champagne last night, and my stupid confession, i thought more about it."
"okay and?"
"and i've come to the conclusion that marrying you, whether i was drunk or sober, was the best decision i have ever made. you are the most perfect person i know and maybe i'm too late to admit this and maybe you want to get this annulled. and if that's what you really truly want, i will sign those papers to make you happy. but i couldn't let you sign without telling you how i felt." quinn sighed.
"so, mrs hughes. what do you want to do?" the man at the desk looked at her as she contemplated for a moment. she looked at quinn and smiled.
"i don't want to sign the papers." she turned to the man. "we are so sorry for wasting your time."
"not a problem. i'm just glad you two figured this out before you followed through with it. good luck on a long & happy marriage."
"thank you." quinn walked out of the office first. y/n followed slowly behind him but stopped.
"quinn, can i ask you something?"
"of course." he stopped and turned to face her.
"never mind. let's talk when we get back to our room." y/n kept walking and eventually made it back to the room. quinn waited patiently for y/n to say something. when she didn't say anything, he sat on the bed and watched her pace back and forth.
"y/n, whats up? what did you want to say to me earlier?" he sighed. "please say something. the silence is worrying me."
"last night when you told me you loved me, did you actually mean it?" she stopped abruptly and turned to face him. under his gaze, she suddenly felt nervous.
and of course, quinn being who he was, picked up on the sudden shift in behavior and was quick to walk to her. he held her hands with one of his own while the other reached under her chin. he tilted her head so she was looking right at him.
"yes i meant it. every last word that came out of my mouth last night was nothing but honesty. i may have been drunk but for the last 2 years, thinking of you became like a second nature. never have i second guessed how i felt about you. and i can assure you that it's never going to change. so if you don't feel the same way, that's okay. i just need to know."
y/n blinked quickly before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. he stumbled back a little bit as their lips collided but he easily steadied them.
quinn's hands went from her chin to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer as the kiss grew more intense with each passing second.
"so, i take it you love me too?"
"of course, you idiot." y/n smiled and caressed his cheek. "you are so perfect in my eyes and i wish i would've noticed it sooner. but no. instead, i was so focused on jack. that was a stupid decision on my part."
"yes it was." quinn chuckled and held y/n closer. "you are so beautiful and you could have anyone you wanted. why do you love me?"
"are you seriously asking me that now?" y/n smiled. "you are the sweetest person i know. you have so much talent and you never give yourself the credit you deserve. you're funny, smart and so incredibly sexy, it blows my mind. you're perfect in every way to me and i couldn't picture myself loving anybody else."
"you think i'm sexy, huh?" quinn raised his eyebrow and smirked. y/n slapped his chest playfully and smiled.
"no. i think you're like, really ugly." y/n rolled her eyes. "you're lucky i love you."
"i love you too. and since we're married, you're stuck with me for life."
"i suppose so." y/n smiled and reached for her phone. "i gotta call your mom."
"why?"
"she needs to know we got married. and maybe she'll help us throw a party to celebrate. we can invite your family and have it be like a real wedding reception."
"you're right. if anyone deserves to know, it's definitely mom."
"so then it's settled?"
"i guess it is." quinn chuckled. "we can tell her when we get home tomorrow."
"sounds like a plan." y/n set her phone down and looked at quinn. "how has nobody seen the perfection in you before? don't get me wrong. i'm glad they didn't because we wouldn't be here if they had. but, how?"
"i don't know. but i was wondering the same thing about you just now. i mean, you dated some losers but i thought at least one of them would've realized how amazing you are."
"they were all blind and stupid, quinn. even your ex-girlfriends. of course they couldn't see how perfect we are."
"you got that right." quinn placed a gently kiss to the tip of her nose and smiled. "so, how does it feel to be mrs hughes?"
"it feels amazing. always dreamed of marrying into the family one day. just always pictured it being jack."
"i know. but aren't you glad you got the better hughes brother?"
"but i didn't marry luke." y/n replied, causing quinn to gasp. she smirked and began to giggle as quinn kissed all over her face. "quinn, you're crazy."
"crazy for you."
"and cheesy. can't forget cheesy." she playfully rolled her eyes as the two of them collapsed on the bed. "you are the better brother. and for so many reasons. i love you, quinn."
"i love you too, y/n." he kissed her and it felt like time had stopped. for them, it felt as if they were the only 2 left in the world. but neither of them could complain.
they were in love and so thankful they were finally able to admit it.
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friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt.6
pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami
synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.
warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)
a/n: yall... this is so long, so sorry. but thank you again for your patience, always appreciate you guys being so kind and considerate towards me. please enjoy this part!
all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5,
December | Tokyo, Japan | Tuesday
Nanami’s clients extended their visit.
It has been more than a week since he and Haibara have been hosting them. Within that week, you might have seen Nanami maybe 3 times, if that. As much as it was good not to see him, you were a bit down. The once perfect dynamic now fell in the hands of complicated feelings and uncertain distance. The duality of emotion.
You found yourself a bit lost when clocking in. Subconsciously, you’d head over to the cafe and get Nanami his coffee. But now, as his new assistants have been assigned to do that, your subconscious has trouble assimilating. Your cubicle area feels hollow without Nanami tapping away answering emails and clocking numbers. Lunches that were always coordinated were now taken on your lonesome.
But, Haibara was one who would never let you get tortured by your own thoughts for long. “Y/N,” he sounds from behind. You don’t look over your shoulder, as your eyes are glued to your current assignment. You were fixing the words of a contract that Nanami and Takada curated together for a different client, making sure everything was concise and ready for the legal team to review.
“Mm,” you hum in response, listening as he took a seat in what once was Nanami’s creak.
“I have some work for you,” Haibara begins. “But before that, I was wondering if you’d like to have lunch later? With me, of course.”
You type one more word before freeing the keyboard, “you have the time to catch lunch with me?”
Haibara nods contently, “Nanami and I sealed the deal, so he and Takada shacho will be having lunch with the clients at that boujee steakhouse a few blocks from the office.”
You smile warmly, “congratulations, Haibara! I’m really happy for you guys.”
“Thank ya, thank ya,” he ‘humbly’ bows at your curt praise. “It was grueling but we did it.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t go with them to celebrate,” you ask, furrowing your brows a bit in confusion.
Haibara shrugs, “I was invited to go, but I wanted to catch up with you. It’s been a bit of time since we’ve been able to talk, besides me coming to give you work from Nanami.”
He’s too good to me. “Ah, please don’t let me be the reason you miss out on the best T-Bone steak of your life,” you say in a lamenting tone.
Haibara waives your worries, “you’re going through a shitty time, and I don’t want you to go through that alone. We can have a shitty time together.”
“Pff,” you huff, but you couldn’t hide the smile you had. Haibara truly was a warm soul, and you were beyond lucky to have created such a good friendship with him. “What is the assignment you need me to do?”
“Ah right!” Haibara fishes out a flashdrive from his black dress pants. He plops it on the desk, and flicks it towards you, the hard plastic sliding on the sleek surface. “This is the original presentation that you created for these very clients as the game plan for our collaboration. You made this in the case that it goes well, which it did.”
“Correct,” you kept up.
“Because they have agreed, Nanami needs updated numbers than the ones we have in all the charts and diagrams,” Haibara instructs, “nothing huge, just replacing all of those with our recent numbers. The information written will still be correct as it explains our steady ascension in the market.”
“Got it, got it,” you spew, your brain getting wrecked from all his words. You take the flashdrive in your hand and plug it into your computer. “It shouldn’t take too long, but I’ll review the written work just to make sure it truly is consistent. I’ll also send you and Nanami an email noting all the changes.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Anyways, where are we eating?” You change topics upon the growling in your stomach. As you click away in editing the powerpoint, Haibara slides over a card to you. Looking down, it’s a small reservation slip for two at a steakhouse. “So you’re still getting steak?”
“I never said I wasn’t getting steak,” Haibara says amusingly. He fixes the small strand of black hair that came out from his excitement and he looks down at the reservation eagerly. “Takada shacho says I should take you out as well, as your work backed up everything we did this entire week.”
You widen your eyes, “me?”
“Y/N, you’re literally the biggest asset to this department,” Haibara whispers, attempting not to make your other colleagues feel inferior. “All these guys here are assets, too, but you are the direct backbone to Nanami’s reputation as our Head of Department. He can afford to make mistakes because you’re always there to reverse them or catch them before they happen. You’ve also made an effort to become the liaison between the team and Nanami, something that wasn’t quite there before.”
You look away, ignoring his praise, “that’s very kind of you to say, but I’m just an assistant. I just do what I’m told, Haibara.”
“You do what you’re told in a way that exceeds what’s expected of you,” Haibara notes. “Like I said, there was a reason you were transferred to our department. You’re resourceful anywhere you go, it seems, as I heard Sales was not your first department either.”
You nod with a small smile, “you’re absolutely right, it was not.”
“It was Legal, no?” Haibara recollects. “Hence why you assist with a lot of our contract-making in this department.”
“Someones gotta get these quick approvals,” you joke, “and you all are the turtles in that race.”
“Yeah yeah, whatever. Finish up what you’re doing and get ready. There’s a steak with my name on it!” Haibara chimes, his brain filled with steak and wine.
This weather was unkind. You knew it wasn’t going to be kind anytime soon, as Japan was going through the heart of the winter time, but you still had some heat to complain about. The two of you trekked through the fury of winds and snow to make it to the restaurant. Tae was kind enough to prepare a very hot tea before your lunch, as you visited the cafe for a few minutes waiting for Haibara to finish his own work (the hypocrite). He even drew a cute smiley face on your cup.
“For Haibara.” Your coats and garments get taken by a few gentlemen at the front before being guided by the host. She guides the both of you through the restaurant, two menus under her arm. You could tell this was a restaurant frequented by the corporate workers in the area. Everyone was ornate in suits and office wear, with discussions of work blaring in every side of your hearing periphery. It made you glad you wore one of your favorite pencil skirts, as it was this tight fitting skirt that complimented your legs. Despite this being somewhat of a work lunch, you were glad to look nice in a room of intimidation.
During your escort, the two of you caught the eye of Nanami, Takada, and the clients in a long table on your own. Haibara allows the woman to finish guiding the both of you, before he quickly nudges for you to join him in greeting them. Your face pales at the thought alone of meeting highly respected clients, but a pair of familiar hazel eyes puts you at ease.
Nanami was the first to get up from his chair, and walked over to the both of you. He was… wearing a navy blue suit, with a black tie. It had been since the first holiday party you spent in the Finance Department that you saw Nanami in such attire. Even now, he still looks ever so sharp, with the fabric struggling to stay together against the mountains of Nanami’s muscles. Even with your feelings in disarray, there was no denying the instant uplift in feelings from Nanami’s smile.
He rests one of his hands on the middle of your back, feeling the light warmth of his palm. His smile towards you doesn’t flicker for a moment, hazel eyes warm and rich like chocolate. “This is my true assistant, Y/L/N-san. Although Takada shacho has kindly lent me his assistants, this woman here is the one who truly does it all for me.”
A few of the clients rise and go towards you to shake your hand. You shyly put out your hand and curtly bow before each of them. “I’m so sorry to make you all stand up and greet me while you all are enjoying lunch. Please, ignore me and continue!”
“We’d be crazy not to greet a woman who is highly regarded such as yourself,” one gentleman hums. He shakes your hand, allowing the hold to linger as he eyed you. “Nanami-san has told us plenty about your work under him, so it’s a pleasure to see the beauty behind his words.”
You feel your cheeks warm, “a-ah, thank you very much! That’s very kind of you to say.”
Another client chimes, “don’t be so modest! Sit and eat with us!”
You look over quickly at Nanami, before you face the president of the company. You find an excuse to free your hand from one of the gentlemen before curtly bowing at Takada. “Good afternoon, Shacho-san. I apologize for interrupting your meal.”
Takada smiles warmly up at you, gesturing for you to go over to him. You lament leaving the safety of Nanami’s hand on your back and go over to Takada. From his seat, he offers you his hand and shakes it kindly. “You are not interrupting a thing, Y/N. If you’d like to join us, you absolutely may. But as you two both have a reservation, I’d hate to take you from that. I assume you two have some work to be discussed?”
Haibara coughs, clearly allergic to the word ‘work’ during his break. But you go along with it, using it as a hopeful excuse to not sit with them. “Thank you for thinking of me when making the reservation, Shacho. Haibara kacho just recently touched on my new assignment from Nanami kacho, so I was hoping to get more details about it during our meal.”
Takada smiles up warmly, “such a diligent worker. Remind me to thank Geto-san, as he was the one who hired you. We should have a meeting soon to discuss your growth here in this company, Y/N.”
>Insert Geto being the head of the Legal Department, and the man who scouted you initially to be his assistant.
Your stomach churns at the thought of being transferred again. Especially since you’ve found a comfortable flow within your department under Nanami. At least, when it was comfortable.
“I’ll be readily available for that conversation, Shacho-san,” you shyly let out.
With your nerves running high, you begin to really realize your setting and take note of a few things. One, all of the clients have kept their eyes on you the entire time. Two, Nanami was glaring at the client that just finished shaking your hand. And three, of all things, you noticed that Takada has 4 vacant seats near him..
“B-but, I do hope you all enjoy your meal!” You quickly spew out, returning to the topic at hand. “I apologize for not being able to greet the remainder of your guests, Shacho-san.” Curiosity truly bested you.
“Ah, they are just my assistants that you’re already familiar with, Y/N,” Takada informs. “They’ve been happily helping us host our dear clients during this time. I hope they’ve given you the opportunity to have some space from your helicopter boss.”
Takadas joke lands well with everyone except Nanami, who now holds a less content expression. He quickly makes his way towards you, his eyes filled with conviction. On his way, he pats Haibara’s shoulder before cementing himself by your side. But you hold no feelings towards Nanami, as you were busy not trying to take any offense. Although Takada offered and you weren’t expecting a seat during this meal, it was peculiar that Nanami made no effort to include you.
“As the both of us are here now, I’d like to take the opportunity to speak to Y/N-san regarding the assignment I recently sent to her,” Nanami hums, moving more in front of you now. You remained quiet, no words finding its way out of your mouth. Nanami looks over at Haibara, “I’ll be borrowing her briefly, if that’s alright.”
Haibara looks at you but you make an effort to tame his worry. Reluctantly, he smiles and nods, “that's perfect. Let us dine to a successful collaboration!” Haibara riles the men, as they begin to beckon over waitresses for a round of drinks.
Nanami takes this moment to guide you away from the suddenly energetic table, and brings you towards an elevator. There, a guard stood, but moved the moment he saw Nanami. He taps the elevator’s button before moving aside, allowing you two to enter upon its arrival. You two stood in the brass elevator, your short heels digging into the tacky red fabric on the elevator floor. Silence sauntered between the two of you.
But now in this limited space, you felt a sense of calm. Though your feelings were still in a ditch, you were giving them more and more thought. You’ve been more or less conducting yourself well, considering the couple of days that you spent crying over Nanami’s words. It draws the question of whether or not your feelings were true towards him. Or perhaps they are true, and you’re just feigning it to cope.
Either way, you couldn’t help but envy Nanami’s indifference. Your eyes lend over to him, seeing his straight stature, and sharp appearance. Both hands were housed in his pockets, and his eyes focused strictly on the doors of the elevator. You couldn’t prove it, but you had a very strong feeling that this was not going to go well.
The elevator halts, and the two of you free yourselves after the ascend. It was the top of the restaurant, which was entirely covered by a glass dome. But the beauty of the floor was its greenery. Trees, shrubs, and flowers alike flourished in this greenhouse-like environment. You were quite impressed that these greens could flourish while the restaurant still maintained a comfortable temperature.
In the center of it all, was a humble bar.
“Would you like a drink, Y/N?”
You pause. “Do you have any more assignments for me today?”
Nanami simply shakes his head, starting the stride for the both of you towards the bar. “Just the assignment I told Haibara to share with you.”
“Then I suppose a few shots wouldn’t be too bad,” you say calmly, loosening your hair from the tight ponytail you had it in. You allow your hair to bounce freely, finding a lot of peace from the release of the pressure. “Are you paying?”
Nanami shakes his head, “Takada rented out the space completely. It’s under the company’s card.”
“6 shots of Anejo, please,” you calmly requested the dark tequila. The bartender nods before disappearing to find the very expensive liquor.
“I didn’t realize you were a drinker, Y/N,” Nanami begins. He pulls out one of the seats and offers a hand. You take his hand, feeling the bursts of emotion in your heart from his touch. His palms were cold, dry, and ornate with callouses. But somehow, his fingers were soft as they delicately touched the top of your own. You carefully take a seat, keeping your free hand under your rear to make sure your pencil skirt didn't hike up. The last thing you needed was to flash the guy who rejected you.
You shake your head, “no, no, ‘m not so much of a drinker. But I do have a preference for dark liquors.”
“I’m shocked,” Nanami takes the seat to your left, “you’re someone with quite the sweet tooth for drinks.”
“I’m not really crazy about drinking, but I do drink. I prefer to get drunk quicker with less, than to waste money getting drunk after 10 sweet drinks.”
“It’s on the company card, you wouldn’t be wasting money of your own.”
You shrug, “force of habit.”
It felt good to talk like this. Not restricted at work, nor floaty from Nanami’s presence. Though, you had to admit that the only reason you could speak like this was because you haven’t met his eyes since you two got here.
Before another word is exchanged, your shots make their way to your area. The bartender kindly splits it between the both of you, and three shot glasses sit patiently before you. You pick up one of the shots, with Nanami following your lead. With a quiet clank, you both down your shot.
“Mm, before I forget,” you murmur, dabbing the loose liquor from your bottom lip. You dig your hand into your pocket, fishing out the flashdrive Haibara passed you. “Here’s the revised presentation. I tweaked everything regarding our company’s growth so far this year, the revenue, how we will benefit from this collaboration, and prospectively how our clients will benefit from it as well.”
“You did that all just today?” Nanami’s words were imbued with surprise. He was impressed.
You shook your head, “I’m not that amazing, Nanami kacho. I was already drafting it during your time with them. I’ve had a lot of free time, as you’ve sporadically given me assignments, or independent work I have long been ahead of.”
He quickly takes the flashdrive from you, “I don’t even know why I ask– you’re excellent, as usual. With that said, I wanted to ask you the question I wanted to ask from the other day.”
“Hm?”
“I’ve been wondering why you’ve been addressing me with ‘kacho,’” Nanami asks simply. “This has been a sudden and recent development that I don’t quite understand.”
“You’re my boss,” you urge, your fingers sliding your second shot closer to you. You could feel your heart get just a bit heavier. “These are the formalities we’re to have with one another.”
“Y/N, you have not called me that since your first month under me,” Nanami reminds you. “It’s perfectly fine if you would like to revert back, but I would at least like a heads up, or a reason why.”
“Do I have to tell you why I’ve decided to address you more respectfully again?” You take the shot glass in your hand, ready to down it. “It's the expectation.”
Nanami shakes his head, “it is not the expectation anymore when this is something we agreed to drop. When you started calling me that, I wasn’t sure what happened. Would you like me to also address you with honorifics again?”
“If you’d like,” you spew nonchalantly. You down your second shot.
“Even the way you speak is different,” Nanami points out. He, too, drinks his second shot. He shakes slightly from the sudden strength of the alcohol. “All of this started happening since the day I came over to your apartment to work. If I may ask, did I offend you on my visit?”
”Does it matter?”
“It does matter,” Nanami coos, “to me, it matters. The way we get along is very important to me.”
Your heart threatens to flutter from his words. But your hurt feelings were riding your mind, and producing your words. “I’m just your assistant. I was forced on you by Takada shacho.”
“And where did you hear that from?” Nanami looks over at you, trying to find answers in your distant expression. “Did you hear that through a rumor? Our department's amount of gossiping is unbecoming of my expectations.”
“You have been working with this company for a long time,” you begin slowly. “Within your tenureship, you haven’t had an assistant since Haibara was promoted. Why did you accept now of all times?”
Nanami emits a sigh, his hand snaking towards the third shot, “I’ll tell you if you look at me.”
A nausea surges from your stomach, and your body goes a bit cold from nerves. You were able to speak so boldly like this from not meeting those hazel eyes, and that handsome face. It was easy to speak this openly without staring at his neat, blonde locks or the way his suit hugs his maintained body. It was all easy when you weren’t facing him, and the reality of your situation. It was easy not to look directly at your crush, and the feelings that haven’t tainted, even after his time at your apartment.
You down the third shot, gesturing to the bartender with a lifted finger spinning in a circle. He nods at your request for another round and clears your now empty shot glasses. You emit a struggling sigh, slowly turning your head to face Nanami. You bit your tongue, noticing the glimmer of hurt in his own eyes. But he smiles warmly still, despite everything.
“You’re still a woman of trade,” he says, almost in a relieving tone. “This sounds like we need to air out a lot of things between us. So I suppose this is the best time to be honest with you, yes? Geto and Shoko have told me all about your talent from being both of their assistants since you started. So I… had known about you before you were assigned to me. Shacho spoke to me about it, and I was less reluctant because I had heard nothing but good when it came to you.”
This was interesting. You had not a clue who Nanami was, only that he was the head of Finance. You never interacted with him, simply only knowing him through passing words from Geto, Shoko and your fellow colleagues between both departments. He was somewhat famous within the company for being such a hard worker, someone who got promoted seamlessly to an executive position within a year's time. But you were here for a paycheck, and paid no mind to irrelevant people. But he knew about you.
“So, you accepted me because you knew I was really good at my job?” You began, squinting your eyes curiously.
“Rather, I wanted to see if you were truly worth what was said about you,” Nanami explains. “Your ability to excel in different areas of work intrigued me, and I wanted to see how you would perform in my department.”
“So you wanted to test me?” You spat, “like some experiment?”
Nanami felt a pit of regret in his throat. “No, no, please don’t take it like that, Y/N,” Nanami backtracks, “you have no idea how impressed I am with your work, and have no regrets taking you on as my assistant. But word of mouth alone doesn’t convince me of someone's greatness. I had to see it for myself, if that’s less brute.”
“What, were you just bored then?” You couldn’t really understand him. This was all too new for you. “What did you gain from this? Satisfying your curiosity by expecting a 50% chance of me not being what I’ve been highly regarded as?”
Shots joined the both of you, but the heat of the conversation made them remain in the background. Nanami rubs his eyes with dragging hands, “Y/N, listen to me good and well, because I’m not going to let you misunderstand me. I am extremely grateful to have gotten an assistant like you because I refuse to have anybody that doesn’t match my work ethic. Although I was not a fan of having an assistant, I only ever heard good things. I knew you’d be great, but you surpassed my already high expectations of you.”
“Nanami kacho–”
“Please, stop calling me that,” Nanami interrupts you. “I admit that it’s a bit upsetting for our relationship to revert back into a strict manner. I can accept that you’re uncomfortable with it, but I’d at least like to know why and if there’s any way I can mend it.”
“Can you make it clear what sort of relationship we have?” You nitpick now.
“What do you mean?” Nanami’s expression held genuine confusion. “You’re my assistant, and I’m your boss.”
You could feel yourself wanting to cry a bit. “So why does it matter if I address you as kacho again?”
“Because we established some comradery between us,” Nanami points out, “is it bad that I feel comfortable with you to drop honorifics and be less formal?”
“Do you see me as a friend?” You ask quietly, trying your best to calm the coating of tears in your eyes. You were seeing him in a gentle blur, almost the physical embodiment of your current feeling of disconnect.
“I… see you as one of my most trustworthy colleagues,” Nanami carefully places his words in his sentence. “We’re friend-ly, in a sense. I enjoy working with you.”
You were coming to your limit. You finally found the deadend that you were trying to avoid for such a long time. But as you faced Nanami, seeing his cheeks turn a light hue of pink, you knew that your heart would always be right.
You like Nanami.
You like the fact that he’s a workaholic, but is always content whenever you are able to ease his workload.
You like that he always shows his appreciation towards you, never forgetting to say thank you, or reminding you that you were an asset to him and the department.
You like that he gets excited when you plan your shared lunch, and already know what he wants/would probably like.
You like that he wears the same blue shirt.
You like that he drinks coffee with half a fig in it. You love that he confided in you regarding the reason.
But, even so.
“Nanami, you did offend me when you came to my apartment,” you changed topics. Your heart was beating fast, your nerves making you want to shut up and run away. But it was time to clear the air. It was time to give the confession you deserved to do before a rumor forced you back into your shell. “It regards the rumor you heard about… me liking you.”
“Oh?” He was surprised.
“Those rumors are absolutely correct,” you admitted, though your throat was ready to close up and force your words back down. You grab one of the new shot glasses and down it. “Mm,” you hum, wiping some loose liquor from your lip, “I do like you, Nanami. I have had a crush on you for a while now, but after the way you reacted to just the rumor of it, I couldn’t go back to how we were.”
Nanami looks at you, his eyes looking desperately around your face. It was almost like he was waiting for you to say ‘just kidding!’ and laugh it off like it was a prank. But you only continued to down your shots, waiting for any response. You found solace in the alcohol, allowing it to rebuild the little courage that was lagging.
“Why… how come,” Nanami’s words were spotty, you finally had him speechless. If only the context wasn’t shitty. “How come you never cleared it up that day? Why did you go along with it?”
“Because you looked so relieved when you believed it to be just a rumor, a lie,” you spouted. Tears were finally welling up in your eyes, triggered by the recollection of that day. “Almost as if you were glad that I didn’t actually like you.”
“It is… easier for me to be on my own than to be romantically affiliated with someone,” Nanami admits softly. His words were still fairly cool, but his tone was low in an attempt to not offend you any more than he has. “I’m not… good with people having feelings towards me. It complicates things. Especially if it's a coworker.”
“We spend more time with one another than with our friends or loved ones,” you rationalized, “it’s not foreign if feelings develop between us, considering how much we see one another.”
“So explain why I don’t share that sentiment,” Nanami says coolly. You widen your eyes at him, your heart finally turning over in its grave. He quickly holds your elbow, noticing the agony in your expression. Warm tears spill down your burning cheeks. His touch feels like lava. “That’s not what I meant to say, Y/N, please let me fix my words.”
You snatch your elbow out of his hand, “thank you for being honest with me about your own feelings.” You grab a tissue from the box at the bar, and blow into it. You could tell your entire face was red, which was embarrassing considering you had to go back to the office in a bit. “I apologize that my feelings brought us here.”
Nanami quickly puts an arm between you and the shot glasses you were aiming for, “Y/N, I’m sorry for being insensitive towards you. I didn't mean to say what I said just now. At least, not the way I said it.”
You shake your head, your eyes giving him a pained gaze, “no, no, it’s better like this. You’re being direct with me… I’d rather that you don’t try to spare my feelings.”
Nanami felt his world go dim. It was strange to confront you like this. You would not be the first woman who ended in tears upon confessing their feelings to him. And he would always attempt to soothe their hearts before paying the tab of whatever bar or dinner they were left to sob. But seeing the light leave your eyes, and your hollow expression left a mark in his memory.
He wanted to respond, but his mouth went dry. It was like the alcohol was on your side, as his tongue couldn’t even bounce off the words he wanted to say. It bothered him that you looked away and have yet to look back, almost like you were ready to leave your feelings behind right this moment. As if… you were moving on right now.
He didn’t want to let you go back, not like this, no. But he felt powerless now. And before he could respond with something, anything, you hop out of your seat. He notices the shot glasses were now empty, and keeps his gaze on you. “H-hey, don’t go back like this– please have a glass of water and calm down first.”
Your body was warm and loose, but you weren’t eager to be near him any longer. You ignore his offer. “Don’t lose that flashdrive for tomorrow.” You properly put on your purse, and adjust your pencil skirt. Before you leave, you face Nanami once more. You see his flush face, a mixture of his own complicated feelings and the alcohol taking its toll. His hazel eyes were dark, their glow was fleeting. He looked lost, and felt distant. But, you lend him a small, weak smile. “Thank you for letting me like you. It’s been fun.”
“Y/N,” your name leaves his mouth like a broken piano key. You curtly bow and turn around, allowing yourself to cry more aggressively (yet quietly) as Nanami watches your figure get smaller until you are completely out of sight.
But he knew better than to think you’d be out of mind, too.
Taglist: [Now Closed]
@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000
@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn
@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist
@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw @ffyona1214 @phantombaby @evangel44xxcds
@ukiyodestiny @jasminelee324 @eurydxceorphxus @moonlightazriel @s3rp3ntsssc0ve
@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro
#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami kento#nanami x reader#jjk nanami#jujutsu nanami#nanami smut#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#nanami fanfic#kento nanami#jjk kento
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The Moon Child Part 2
Part 1
A/n: Wow. I posted the first part to this and you guys like- rushed to it like starving animals holy SHIT... Should I be scared???? anyway- here ya go
Summary: Danny meets the Aqua Family and gets the love he deserves, plus a little comfort.
Tw: hurt/comfort, bad parents, mentioned discrimination, angst, ghost animal cruelty, swears, objectification, fluff
I forgot to mention Danny goes by he/they pronouns, Atlanteans know a lot of animals, and gender is weird sometimes so they aren't assuming anything and that's fair since Danny could shapeshift if he wants
The Moon Child Part 2 - The Moon Loves the Sea
Warm. He felt warm while in his core. And he could feel the soft cushion he was placed on. He heard the stories that Aquaman Arthur would tell him about all of his adventures and the rambles about his family. He was even told the secret about his stepbrother, Orm, who's death was faked and now lived on land.
It was... nice. Safe. He hadn't felt so loved in a long time. Or, at least, he thinks he hasn't. He had lost track of time while in the labs. It was painful to think about. Visibly so. Apparently, when he drifted into those dreadful terrors, his core's soft light would flicker into a dimmer one which resonated with his sobs. Arthur or his wife, who would keep him beside them at all times, would pick him up each time and hold him close to their heart.
"It's alright" They would say. "You're safe now."
Their heartbeat would always calm him down. It pulsed out reassuring feelings with each beat of their hearts. It was soothing and he never felt so safe. Not even when he was alive. To think he needed to die to feel this way.
It took a while for the pain to finally go away, but he soon felt ready to come out of his core. He couldn't recuperate as much as he wanted to. Not to use his full abilities of his ghost powers. No, there wasn't a massive supply of ambient ectoplasm like in Amity. He learned that what he was absorbing the most was the magic, which acted as a saline solution to blood (which he was pretty sure his blood was fully ectoplasm now).
It was interesting how magic tied in with ectoplasm. He wondered if that's why summoning worked best for those in the realms for that reason. Maybe the specific rituals to summon them even tied closely with their ecto-signatures? It's an interesting thought really.
That isn't the point though. What is, is that he was healthy enough to come out of his core.
"Ok, Danny. Deep breath. Here we go-"
-
Arthur was doing his usual thing: struggling to wake up in the morning and only really doing it because he didn't want to worry the literal spirit of a god. And it's not even because they're a god, but because they're a child. Should he have kept them in the same room. He feels like that might've been a better choice than just leaving them in a room next to his.
Arthur shook his head, rubbing his eyes as he swung his legs over the edge only to jump at the cold feeling of the floor.
"All kinds of water magic and they still can't stop the floor from being cold."
He huffed, getting up and picking out some casual wear that didn't have a bunch of jewelry with protection runes. Some normal clothes to hang out with family.
Kaldur came back yesterday, so they're having breakfast together. He hoped that he'd believe the whole moon deity thing. Kaldur was pretty good and believing new things, but this was their main religion they're talking about. Religion is iffy, or at least it was for those on land. The ocean folk are... extremely loyal.
Should he worry about them trying to destroy the new moon...?
He shook his head. No, they probably couldn't get past the layers of the atmosphere. Hopefully.
He walked out of the door, now thinking about how sea creatures would even pull that off before knocking on the door of the room next to his.
"It is uh, me. Again." It never sounds less awkward. Maybe I should try adding the dramatics?
And with a twist and push, he opened the door only to freeze with widening eyes. The stone wasn't there.
"Oh my god- I lost-"
Only to hear a chirp. he flinched, attention darting over to the full body mirror on the other side of the door that pushed into the room. A door he was going to have fixed to avoid heart attacks like these.
He let out a huge sigh of relief, walking over and bending down with a crooked grin.
"Well, good morning. I didn't expect you to appear for a while. But hey! Perfect timing! Kaldur's going to be joining us during breakfast today, so we could introduce you guys! We could meet Orm soon too! I bet he'll be absolutely surprised!"
The child only looked at him with their big wide doe eyes. Hope sparked in them, but anxiety kept their body tense.
"You... You were serious about it? About me meeting your family?"
Arthur placed a hand on their shoulder, he could barely notice the cool temperature of their body before he saw them jump. He was going to pull away his hand, but then the child relaxed a bit more. It was as if they hadn't had affectionate physical contact in a long time.
"Have they ever been anything but a moon? Are all moons like this? What about other planets? Earth... we have so much pollution. If it were alive..., would it only just barely be clinging?"
"Yes, I was and still am. You're a part of it now for as long as we live. And even when we pass, you will continue to have a place in the ocean. You might not have realized this, but the ocean worships you like a god. In fact, I think I'm going to have to talk with the Justice League about offering an apology gift of some sort."
The child blinked, eyes wide and glistening as a layer of moisture sparkled more yet made the eye look foggy. Looking closer, Arthur could see how moonstones came to be when they cried. It would hurt if it was a literal stone the kid cried. Like- like kidney stones! He was thankful that it wasn't like that.
"You... You aren't scared of me being dangerous to them? You don't think I'm evil or non-sentient?"
Arthur blinked. What?
"No... Nobody- Why would anybody think that?"
The child pursed his lips into a thin line, averting his eyes. With each blink, a silvery white liquid would start to drip and condense to the moonstones he found.
"I... don't know how things work around here... But on land... I've... They don't respect the dead or those associated to the concept. I've tried to keep both sides from trying to destroy the other- but... but..."
Arthur took a breath, pulling the spirit into his arms into a tight embrace. They clung to their veil that was wrapped around their arms like a shawl.
It seems that he had some lore to read up upon and some things to investigate.
-
(This bit's about Danny's POV. It'll be continuing with his while he meets everyone)
Danny didn't know what to think when he looked at himself in the mirror earlier. He didn't have a shirt, but the scarf thing was comfy. He could make it into some kind of make-shift shirt if he wanted to too. His memory on how to do it was... foggy and fractured. Some parts of speech were muffled and what he saw from that time would blur or seemed made up.
He knew the person teaching him.
Why can't he remember them clearly? He could hear whispers of something in his head telling him who that was.
And when he pushed that thought aside, he'd look back at other memories and realize who that was.
Tucker. How could he ever forget about Tucker? Why was he forgetting him?
What made it worse was how much he had to stare at the damn mirror to get the knots right. His chest... it wasn't ever that clean. No Lichtenberg scars. No burns, no cuts, no incision scars. Nothing. It was clean of any of his failures. His struggles. His learning experiences.
And yet... he still imagined them being there. Each time his fingers would brush up against places where he knew scars should've been, a shot of pain would spike as if he'd been electrocuted.
It hurt.
He hated how he remembered.
He hated that he didn't.
He used to remember all of it. He did when he was sobbing for days on end.
Now, it was foggy. Now, it was hidden away. He couldn't reach it.
"Oh my god- I lost-"
He chirped in surprise, turning with widened eyes. Oh. It's just Arthur. I really need to get out of my head.
Arthur walked over, looking slightly drained, as if he was relieved of a sudden weight placed on his shoulders. And by the vibes, Danny's guess seemed right.
Relieved Happy Happy Excited Nervous Happy
He was always so cheery in the... well, what seemed to be the day. Sucks to be out now that he thought about it. It would be rude to just fall asleep at random now that they could physically see if he's awake or not.
Arthur greeted him warmly, cheerily saying how he didn't expect him to come out of his core as if the event was a surprise gift. That... was confusing to say the least. It's easier to have a pet rock than a guest. Now he has to feed him to be polite, or at least offer. He has the room covered since the beginning. It was a really big room. A waste for something someone like him.
He felt his body freeze and start muffling sounds when Arthur started mentioning Kaldur and Orm. His family. Close ones, from the stories he would tell.
M4Dd13 and J4Ck would never allow strangers near him, much less Jazz.
"You... You aren't scared of me being dangerous to them?" He couldn't stop the questions from slipping out even when his expression shifted. "You don't think I'm evil or non-sentient?"
He doesn't even know how he could even think of himself as otherwise. He could remember the custom-made, high voltage tasers that targets his ecto-signature itself until he acted how they expected him to. How they wanted him to.
His eyesight became extremely cloudy. It was similar to the green he'd see before he would start crying after he couldn't cry water anymore.
Ghosts... Ghosts cry ectoplasm. What... What was he crying? What is he now? He was- Why wasn't he gone? He was Ended, wasn't he? They got rid of his heart and crushed his core to determine the durability- there wasn't a way to come back from that.
So why was he alive?
Why can't he-
"-think that?"
Shit- he wasn't paying attention.
Danny couldn't bare to look at the man, guilt eating away at him.
"I... don't know how things work around here..."
He could barely register that it was his voice.
"But on land... I've..."
Why was he still touching his shoulder?
Why isn't he disgusted?
Why isn't he scared?
Why isn't he angry?
"They don't respect the dead or those associated to the concept. I've tried to keep both sides from trying to destroy the other- but... but..."
But they destroyed me instead.
It was all for nothing.
Why didn't he listen to the Ancients?
Why did he just kill people?
They already expected him to do so anyway.
So why didn't he?
He couldn't feel the hug he was pulled into until he stopped crying.
What was he even crying about?
-
Ok so- Maybe Danny should start scheduling his breakdowns. So far, he's had ones at random or ones that goes on for multiple days without any stopping. Or- if he did stop, he really doesn't remember them.
But this is getting embarrassing. He was lucky Kaldur came home late or else they might've either came late or completely missed the breakfast reunion.
Ugh- and don't get him started with anxiety.
His eyes must be puffy or something. Great first impression, Danny! All ya gotta do now is cry again in front of everyone to make it one of the worst introductions in life.
Well, it wasn't really a good start even without him. Arthur had just dropped him onto a very cushiony chair and exclaimed: "Thank the seas! I'm starving!" And just went to devour a whole plate before calming down a bit with Mera scolding him.
He was just awkwardly watching until a plate was placed in front of him. He slightly tensed, attention going from his plate to the hand pulling away from the plate now that it was down. That's when his eyes made contact with Kaldur's. He seemed a bit startled to, as he blinked owlishly before smiling politely.
"Hello, I'm Kaldur'Ahm. You may call me Kaldur."
"U-um.. I'm..." What should he be called now? Phantom didn't feel as right anymore. Ah, what the heck. It's not like they know little ol' Danny Fenton. "I'm Danny." For some reason, that name didn't feel too right either.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard that you've been in a stone, so I was surprised to see you carried in by fa- Arthur."
Curious Happy Happy Nervous
Danny relaxed a bit, turning to his plate once eye contact became too difficult. He picked at his food
"I didn't have much strength when I first formed. I wasn't meant to even have a body but I... didn't want to be discovered and have my core cut up and carved into for some jewelry or something, so I forced myself. you could say it's like... an energy conservation form."
Danny started to actually eat his food, though a bit quicker than he usually would. Stress eating, how lovely.
"Is it a lot of work to stay as you are now? You don't have to stay like this if you're too drained." Kaldur started to fret for him, looking for any sign of strain.
Danny, feeling the worry from him, smiled. It's been a while since someone was worried for him.
"I recovered enough energy that I have a bit extra. I can't do a lot of the things I could before, but I don't feel any pain anymore. So, I'll be fine."
Kaldur relaxed a bit, though still held a slight frown.
"Tell me if you ever feel anything. I'm more than able to hold onto your core and protect you."
Danny hummed, continuing to eat. That's about the time Kaldur remembered that it was breakfast time and started- no, continued to eat from his plate. He must've served himself when Arthur started to or even before that.
"Hey hey hey! Now that the kid's awake, why don't we take a family trip toooooooooo" He dragged out the word as Mera glared at him. "-my brother's grave! I bet he'd love to meet you! And on the way, we can go to the burger place and shop for some clothes, meet my dad-"
Danny looked over at Kaldur, who shook his head fondly at his obvious father-figure. Really, that slip up wasn't getting past him, no way, not possible.
"Don't mind him." Mera sighed. "He's an idiot."
"Hey!"
"Danny, you could always say no. We could go a different day." Kaldur mentioned.
"Danny?" Arthur questioned. Mera rolled her eyes.
"Pay attention, will you?"
"No, it's fine." Danny shook his head with a nervous smile. "I'd like to see him too."
"GREAT!" Arthur exclaimed, making Danny jump and Kaldur wince at the volume. "Hurry and finish your meals! I'll call over the pups!" and then he ran off.
"Pups?" Danny asked.
"Sharks." Mera clarified with a fond sigh. "Ever since he heard someone call them sea puppies, he's been calling them pups and puppies ever since."
"That's... really cute actually." Danny snickered.
"He sneaks away to play with them all the time." Kaldur groaned, remembering the number of meetings he had to take over for the man.
Danny reached over and patted Kaldur's forearm.
"You poor child."
"At least you understand."
-
Kaldur... well, Danny didn't really know how to put it. He was really nice and all, but he was a bit...
"These earrings would look great on you." Kaldur hummed as he held up dangling pearls to his ears.
Kaldur's already bought 3 bags of stuff for him in the last 20 minutes since coming to Reef Town (completely made-up place, just go with it). He even had to adjust his ghost clothes so he could wear the pants and shirt, and other stuff that were bought for him. He still kept the veil since it was really soft and soothed him when he rubbed it between his fingers.
"Ah, but this goes with your clothing... Perhaps we should order one to be made in Atlantis?" Kaldur trailed off, mumbling about different shops and what materials they had along with design names Danny had no clue about. He was almost sure that some of those words were made-up with how they sounded.
"Oookaaayyy- how about we think this over later?" Arthur insisted, a hand on Kaldur's shoulder and the other taking away the earrings in his hands. "We have someone to meet in... about 5 minutes."
"Right, sorry! I got distracted-"
"You're fine, you little urchin." Arthur chuckled, pushing Kaldur towards the door. "Now let's go meet Orm!"
Danny felt a hand on his head. It was a gentle, motherly touch. It nearly made his core let out a purr. Only Jazz could do that with touch alone. Though he nearly started to do the same when they'd mark where they'd cut next. They didn't do that as often with how much they liked to see his organs and bones regenerate.
"Tell Kaldur if it's too much. He's just really excited to have you around and is used to having to give something to keep sea creature friends around."
Ah, he knew that voice.
"Ex..cited? Why?" Danny looked up at Mera, leaning into her touch.
Mera smiled down sweetly at him; her eyes were filled with love that would be pointed to her own child.
She didn't have that drunken lust M4Dd13 had in her eyes each time she came back.
It made his core flutter.
"He sees you as a younger sibling. He's wanted one for a little while now. I... I can't get myself to try again, so he didn't expect to have a sibling. He was really excited to meet you after he heard that you agreed to stay with Arthur. You didn't reject my touch either. I hope it was fine that I held your... core, was it?"
Danny felt her finger card through his hair. He melted at the soothing touch.
"Yeah. It's... it's everything to a ghost. Heart and soul. And... I heard about you from Arthur while I was in my core. And you were the reason Arthur knew to comfort me. So, I knew I could trust you."
Mera smiled a bit more brightly and knelt down, hands holding his face with all the love in the world before she placed a kiss on his forehead.
"I'm glad. Now, let's go catch up with the boys. I'm sure Kaldur and Arthur must be panicking."
Danny could barely follow after her, having to make himself float as she grabbed his hand to lead him outside. Everything was too fuzzy and happy; it was hard to focus.
-
"Did you kidnap a child spirit?!"
That was the first thing Orm said when he saw Danny, immediately looking at Arthur incredulously as he slammed the table with his hands.
He immediately walked over and knelt down in front of Danny.
"I am so sorry about him-"
"Hey! I didn't-"
"-he's an idiot and really doesn't know any better."
"I didn't kidnap him!"
Orm arched a brow at his brother before looking over at Mera.
"No contracts were made."
Orm looked back at Danny.
"You went with him willingly?"
Danny snickered. "He looked like an idiot."
"You too?!"
"You really can't blame him." Kaldur agreed, smiling over at Danny.
Danny giggled and looked back at Orm.
"I'm Danny."
"Orm, that idiot's older brother. Stepbrother. Now, why did a saintly spirit decide to tag along with this family?"
Mera walked over, placing a hand on Danny's head again. He leaned into it, barely able to keep in a purr.
"You remember the incident with the moon?" Orm nodded. "Well, they're the spirit of the moon."
Orm's eyes widened, head snapping right back to Danny.
"You- you're-"
Danny blinked. He's a what? Wait, not the time to dissociate-
"Is... Is that bad?" Danny hesitantly asked.
"No! Not at all- I just- I've always believed in you, it's just that- Seeing an idol is a bit of an experience-"
"An idol?" Danny questioned, looking up at Orm. He was still kneeling, doesn't that hurt?
"Well, I've heard stories about how you'd battle against the sun gods and sent blessed rain to heal those under incurable plagues. That you split your own soul to assist physically on this world to help those that roamed on it! I've traveled to different places on the land just to see your descendants. And what beautiful white features they have. Did you know that humans call them albinos?"
"Really?"
"Yes! They deserve a better name that fits the position of blessed descendants! The fools!"
"I-it's fine, really! I'm glad they're doing ok and- and that my blessing still lives on."
Orm sighed and stood up.
"You're much too kind. Even after they replaced you, you don't hold it against anyone."
Oddly enough, he felt his chest tighten. It was as if...
"Someone has to do my job in controlling the currents, right?" Danny smiled sadly.
The others seemed to feel sympathy for the spirit, Kaldur going over and pulling him into a hug.
"It's alright. The ocean will stand by your side. Forever. They still worship you even now. So don't think you were only a tool, ok?"
Danny nodded. "Ok.."
He fought back against the tears.
-----
A/n: well, that was a bit longer than the last one. I was planning to write more for this chapter, but I'll just add it to the next one. Sorry if it seems a bit stiff, it'll be better eventually... hopefully.
Anyway, hope you enjoyed.
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