#my course evaluation WILL hear about this.
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ok i read 40 pages of that book. it’s fine. i wish it was chain of thorns though.
#i’m too tired to read anything else tho so now i’m upset#why would a professor assign a 368 page book to be read over 2 weeks just for a 10 question quiz#think i might just take the L on that quiz frankly. there’s no way i’m reading 328 more pages in a week.#my course evaluation WILL hear about this.#beth.txt
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Hi I love your work so far, do you think you could do headcannons for all the different characters of the main Hazbin Hotel cast when their lover comes to them injured? Like how they would treat you and then how they would deal with the person who harmed you. I would love to see this ahhhh 😫
Ahh of course! I love this, thanks for the request! I hope you like it!
Trope: Hazbin Hotel x Injured!reader
Characters: Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie, Angeldust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Lucifer
Warnings: Physical violence, mention of death, injured reader, blood.
author's note: hey guys! this is my first time doing one of these, and I'm still getting better, so forgive me if its a bit shabby. If you have any requests, feel free to send them in! I'm in a creative buzz rn lol. Enjoy!
🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:
The day that your attacker decides to hurt you is the day that they decide to die. Messing with the Radio Demon’s plaything is about the last thing you want to do.
Alastor often sent his shadows to follow you into town when he couldnt be with you, so the second you were attacked, Alastor could sense that something was wrong.
By the time his shadows had carried you back to the hotel, your attacker had already escaped, but luckily, his shadows saw everything.
When he rushed down to see you, he seemed rather indifferent at first. He carried you up to his room, immediately conjuring several healing ointments to heal you quickly.
He laid you in his bed, in which you almost immediately fell asleep.
He hears the whispers of his shadows, and gains all of the information he needs out of them.
With a single snap of his finger, the issue was taken care of. Rumor has it that the screams of your attackers' seemingly “random” death could be heard about 3 rings down.
While waiting for you to wake, Alastor conjures two steaming bowls of his mother’s jambalaya. Placing one on the side table next to you, he sits down next to your sleeping body and lightly grazes your head, singing soothing songs until you wake up.
😈🗝️Charlie🗝️😈:
Would of course be so very angry at whoever did this, but her first priority would be healing you up and making sure that you’re absolutely 100% okay and comfortable.
Would set you up in her bed and assure that you have anything at all that would make you feel more comfortable. Tea? Yup. Ice pack? Already got it. Cuddles? Of course!
Would definitely let you cuddle with Razzle and Dazzle for as long as you needed.
She would try her best to talk to you and figure out what happened - to figure out who did this to you.
As you told her, she seemed surprisingly… calm? She simply thanked you for telling her and left the room.
Though Charlie doesn't seem like a particularly violent person… She can get protective over the people she loves. So, let's just say she got that issue taken care of real quick. How stupid to mess with the Morningstar family.
🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:
Anybody in her vicinity needs to watch out when she hears that her love is hurt.
Like, seriously, heads will roll. But not before she checks on you to evaluate how badly she needs to fuck up the person who did this to you.
When she sees you, bruised and bloody, she can't help but hold you so tight and cry, scolding you for getting yourself into a bad situation without her there to protect you.
Vaggie knows what it feels like to be beaten and dumped on the side of the street like garbage. She could never forgive herself if she allowed that to happen to anybody else, let alone the genuine love of her life.
When she asks for the person who did this, you can only give her a vague description. That’s alright though, she will use her former exterminator skills to scan all of Hell and find the person who dared to do this to you. She will not leave this alone until she serves you justice.
🕷️💖Angeldust💖🕷️:
Coming home from the studio to find you in his room, crying and bruised, he immediately drops whatever he’s doing and comforts you in the biggest hug ever.
Angel has plenty of experience with being abused and left to fend for himself, so he doesn't immediately resort to asking questions. No, that’s not what you need right now. You just need to know that you’re loved, beautiful, and that this does nothing to affect your worth or value as a person.
He carries you from the floor to his bed, covering you in blankets and laying next to you with Fat Nuggets.
“It’s okay baby. You can cry, it's okay.” he whispers as you sob into his chest.
He allows you to initiate the conversation of what happened, not wanting to push you past your limits.
Once he finds out what happened, he knows what he has to do. He waits until you fall asleep, and heads down to the club where your attacker happens to frequent. For once, being a famous pornstar will actually serve in his favor. He tempts your attacker to follow him, and immediately beats him to an absolute pulp.
He allows the person to live, saying “I am only letting you live so you can know how it feels. You ever try this shit again, and I will find you. Except that time, you wont leave here looking so… whole.”
♥️♦️Husk♦️♥️:
Husk is used to all the residents of the hotel bitching and moaning to him about all of their issues. With Charlie coming to him and oftentimes crying about the many failures of the hotel, tears were no foreign sight to him.
But coming from the kitchen to the bar and seeing you there, looking an absolute mess, was different.
“What the-What the fuck happened?” he yells. When you flinch, he knows that something happened.
When you explain to him what happened, he immediately needs a description of the attacker. He takes possibly the largest shot you've ever seen and storms out of the hotel.
He wishes that he could do more to protect you. Back when he was an overlord, he had power beyond anybody's imagination. He could've snapped a finger and your attacker would simply disintegrate (but not before he tortured him a bit first). But now that Alastor owned his soul, his powers were limited.
You know what wasn't limited on husk, though? His pure physical strength.
He immediately finds the guy walking on the street adjacent to the hotel (dumb, right?) and absolutely obliterates him.
As the attacker is begging for his life, he just keeps hitting, blind with rage and love for you.
When he wants back into the hotel bloody and exasperated, he sits in the stool next to you and wraps you with one of his wings.
“It’s all okay now. I’m here” he says as you lean on his shoulder, so ready to go to bed.
🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:
Sir Pentious always loved coming to your room to show you his many zany inventions. Normally you welcome him in with open arms, a sweet smile on your face, but today was different.
When he knocked on your door, he was met with absolute silence, which isn't normal for you. When he listened a bit closer, though, he could hear your small sniffles. He trusted his gut and slowly opened the door, fully ready to be denied entry.
Instead, you looked at him shyly, turning away and crying. He could've sworn that he saw a… black eye?
He took this opportunity to come and sit next to you on your floor, placing his arm around you and letting you lean your head on his shoulder.
When he noticed that you were calming down a bit, he asked you what was wrong.
You explained that while you were engaged in a turf war, some ruffian beat you up, and badly. The girl you had momentarily teamed up with had left you behind, and you were left to trek back to the hotel on your own, barely able to walk.
You could see something change in his eyes.
He curled his tail around you, his cool skin calming your nerves. He assured you that he was here now, and nothing like this would ever happen to you again. He then swiftly called his egg bois to entertain and comfort you while he prepared his airship. The idiot that did this to you was going to pay, and not just in turf.
😈🐣Lucifer🐣😈:
Bursting into Lucifer’s room, the only thing you could mutter is “Help” as you fell into his arms.
He frantically carried you to a chair and tried to assess your injuries. Man, someone fucked you up, and badly. Too bad he would kill them before they could brag about their success.
He rushed to find ANYTHING that could help you. Bandages, ice, your favorite food, a rubber duck, ANYTHING.
When he finds you absolutely passed out asleep in the chair, he gently moves you to his bed and tries his best not to stir you.
As he sits watching you, thinking of your beautiful smile (and how he’ll brutally kill the person who did this to you), he observes your features with great detail.
When you wake up, you smile. Lucifer must have gone, but sitting on your table is a bowl of soup and… is that a rubber duck that looks like you?
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#Charlie Morningstar xreader#charlie x reader#vaggie x reader#lucifer x reader#sir pentious x reader#husk x reader#angel dust x reader#alastor x reader#helluva boss#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel oneshots#injured reader
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Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.
Masterlist: Prev; Next;
Chapter 5 - No Time to Waste
It’s been a week and a half since the last power surge incident and so far everything was quiet. Too quiet for Batman’s liking. It definitely increased his paranoia which in turn causes him to be extra moody. The culprit? Whoever was behind the power surge in the Narrows. They became an anomaly to Gotham. Unwanted, an eyesore in the eyes of Batman.
And the issue is, there hasn’t been any news at all. No sightings, no suspects, nothing. Bruce felt challenged in a way. Something is in Gotham, living in his city and he feels like he’s still so far from discovering who or what it is. For the world's greatest detective is having a hard time solving this case. How frustrating.
With no news of another quantum breach, big or small, nothing. It’s frustrating. What’s even more of a headache about this unsolved case, is another thing that has come to his attention- thanks Jim.
Bruce started hearing more reports of a new ‘vigilante’. But there are no pictures, no camera footage, no evidence, just testimonies, occasional sightings and witnesses. Nothing concrete, nothing solid, just no proof. So frustrating.
And there is a pattern.
What he does know is that they are always quick and efficient, never staying too long, leaving once or before the police arrive, and it’s always low level crooks like muggers or thiefs. Respectful and polite (from those they saved) and they mostly keep to the shadows of the night.
Whoever this new problem is, is trying to stay hidden and Batman doesn’t like that at all. Not. One. Bit.
Despite the Narrows being Duke’s territory, he is just one person who patrols in the daytime, so some of his sons and daughter help patrol at night. But it seems this newcomer has incredible luck and scurries off everytime they are even close to their location.
But this doesn’t mean Batman will just let it go, oh no. Of course not silly, he’s going to find this new vigilante and see what they are about. He’s going to evaluate them, judge them, and all it takes is one mess up. Just one and he will make sure they are locked up in Arkham.
A bit extreme, possibly. But he will take no chances, not when it comes to the safety of his city. Gotham is his to protect and defend, he’s keeping many eyes out for this intruder. Watch your back.
“Sorry to interrupt your brooding hour B, but I have something I think you want to know. Also you have a message from Commissioner Gordon.” A new voice spoke through his comms.
“On my way.” He replied.
“No, I think it’s best you go with-”
“I am fully capable of handling it myself just fine. I don’t require father’s assistance.” a third voice snapped. “I’m here with Kent, we’re fine Drake.” And the line was turned off.
“Explain.” Batman demanded.
“So you see…”
-
After the failed attempt at contacting Miguel, you spent a couple of all nighters in advancing your beacon. This time, it would require even more energy but now it won’t cause a potential blackout. But it will notify the bats of your location like last time.
You know you have to be extra fucking careful this time. You might have gotten lucky those days ago in not getting caught, but you know your luck is shit anyways and Batman is one paranoid mother fucker. Him and his wards.
You have to be very cautious in where you go and how you will do this. This new connector is a bit more sturdier than the lightweight one you made before, but this time it also won’t require you to be stuck in one place. Actually, your signal will ping in more than one location. It will bounce off the cell towers and throw a fake location.
This will certainly tip the scales to your favor in avoidance of detection. Now, you won’t have to rely on your (shit) spider luck!
All you have to do is to connect it to a phone or computer, and connect that to any service in the area and manually set it off- which you can easily hack. There is only one tiny itty bitty problem. Guessed it yet? No? Well it’s simple, the only problem is- YOU DON’T HAVE A PHONE.
You could theoretically use the library computer but with civilians around you is a big major no. You’re also pretty sure the library closes at like 8 or something.
No worries. You have a solution for this baby problem. Is it build one yourself? Pfft- fuck no. You don’t have time to build a phone and even less for a computer, you still have to tweak your god damn watch for fuck sake. So, you’re just going to buy one.
And with what money- I hear you ask. Simple. You’re going to make some. Time to become Spider-woman again.
Only until you have enough for a decent phone- you said. It’ll be easy- you said. Until you were proven wrong.
You spent two days hunting and defeating crooks, webbing the worst ones up, while the not so bad but are making shitty choices were let go (with the promise of hunting them down should they go back to doing bad stuff). Some advice here and there, pickpocketing criminal’s money, you know, the usual shabang.
Can’t forget you’re avoiding all cameras so as to not give yourself away. Though you almost got caught by the police once, haha. You never stick around long enough to get spotted by the bats or the cops.
Until one night, dressed as a normal civilian, you were coming back from a shelter, turning a corner and you were immediately surrounded by a group of thugs wanting to rob you. You literally have nothing, so the only thing they would be robbing is your backpack with extra clothes and your suit. And maybe like two granola bars.
You tried to charm your way out of this situation because first of all, youre fucking tired, two, you don’t have time for baby shit, and three, you’re about to start tweaking. Of course the five men didn’t take your sarcastic remarks lightly and decided that their knives would do the talking.
So you beat them up. All five of them. 60 seconds was all it took. So to recompense wasting a minute of your time, you loot their cash discreetly.
Unfortunately (or fortunately) a well dressed man popped out of nowhere, getting close to you and you warned him you would break his wrist if he touched you- he still came but didn’t touch you. Holding out a black card he presented it to your face.
“You fight well, kid. If you want to make money fast,real money, call me and go here.”
“Um, I’m not a k-”
“You’ll make hundreds.” He cut you off. Rude. ”And if you impress the boss like you did me, you can make more.”
Spider luck?
Oh well that got your attention. Eyes narrowed. “Fast money, how?”
“Did no one ever teach ya about ‘stranger danger’? It’s a fight club, if you will. A tournament if you’re interested.”
Spider luck.
After pondering it for a quick second, here you are, getting a card with a free invite to a ring, probably filled with big, crazy, and most likely wanted criminals, and you get paid to beat them up? Sign me the fuck up. “I’m very interested.” you nod.
The man gave a crooked smile. “Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, kid.”
“I’m not-�� The man walked away and inside a white limo car. Fuck you.
So you went the next day. Making sure you wore your normal clothes, just sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and your face mask, you called the guy.
Meeting him was uninteresting, conversations were nothing exciting, just asking you your fighting style, can you take on a big guy, and whatnot.
Upon entering the place (behind a well known bar) you were led to a ring, two fighters going at it. You watched how one was clearly more experienced than the other, while the other guy was battered and bleeding but still fighting. Blood spraying everywhere with every hit until he hit the ground cold.
It certainly is a sight.
It was that very day that you had your very first fight.
Stepping into the ring with no prep, no bandages, no helmet, nothing, this was a raw fight through and through, you were immediately booed and laughed at. Tough crowd.
Of course you were not going against a stereotypical big muscular guy that looks like he could bench press a tank. No, in fact you were against a young military deserter as your first opponent. Scars and all. Across his neck laid an identification tag (also known as dog tag). Christopher Conner.
The man in front of you sneered, laughing at you. “No way they sent me a kid. I will break all your bones. Don’t start crying too soon.” he cooed.
He taunted you and the crowd loved it. You, on the other hand, were pretty bored and unimpressed.
“I’m not a kid…” you huffed behind your face mask.
What was able to be seen on your face must have told him that because he didn’t like being ignored.
So he swung, a clear hit to be a knock out. You swerve.
This time he kicked, you parried.
He did not like that. Soon a game ensued. Hit attacking and you either blocking or dodging. You didn’t even need your spider sense, you got this in the bag, honestly this was quite sad. The crowd went from booing you to insulting Christopher.
“What the fuck man?!”
“Hit the kid!”
“My money’s riding on you dickface!”
“Don’t you dare lose motherfucker, or I’ll shoot you!”
It seems their insults were getting to the man. You on the other hand kinda started to feel bad.
“Stand still you fucker!” Christopher growled, throwing punches.
You scoffed, “My aunt throws faster punches than you Chris.” You can almost taste the bloodlust seeping from his pores. “Hey man, it's been three minutes, surely you can end this, right?”
Chris’s jaw clenched in anger. He was about to explode. A voice called out your name.
“Nada! Stop wasting time and finish it kid. Or you won’t get paid.” What? What a scam! You’re trying to entertain yourself too y’know, guess this will be a way to relieve stress.
Facing the military man you didn’t give him a second to process when you blew him a kiss and then a fist made contact with his chin, effectively knocking him out the second his back hit the ring walls. “I’m not a kid.”
The crowd was silent before chaos broke. Half the crowd booed and threatened the fallen man, while the other half started cheering.
With how unsatisfied most people were, you had to fight three more times. Each time, you won, with no scratches on you (you did pretend to get hit at times for realism). Each victory secures you cheers and hype.
By the end of your last fight, it was dark out and you were walked off by the same man that brought you here. “Good job kid. I know you were the right call.”
“I’m not-” A thick envelope was thrown. Catching it, you opened it up to find money, lots of money. “Woah.”
The man in the suit chuckled. “Like it? You can make more the more you win.”
Still entrance by the stack of green you nodded. “Same time tomorrow?”
“Same time.” The man walked off and you stared at the money.
“Booyah baby!”
You bought a phone the next morning.
And so it’s been five days since then. You weren’t in a desperate need for money anymore, so you cut your fights down from five to two a day. You still needed time to continue fixing your beacon. Spider-woman sightings have also significantly decreased the more you noticed the increase in security.
You were not taking any chances.
Walking towards the somewhat empty bar, you greeted the bouncer and headed inside to an ‘employees only’ door to meet the guy in the suit. He did tell you his name, but you call him ‘Suit’ in your head regardless.
“Hey there Nada,” He hears a sigh from behind the mask. “Listen, kid, you’re one of my best fighters, but I need you to lay low for a while. Here.”
Catching a burner phone you tilt your head for an explanation, pocketing it. “Cops?”
“Worse.” he sighs, slicking his hair back. “Bats.”
Fucking spider luck.
Like a bucket of ice and cold water was dumped on you, blood turning cold. You froze in terror. You should have guessed that a hidden fighting ring would not be kept hidden for long. The criminals that you fought and were downright nasty, you made sure they were caught outside and far away from this location.
And it was random from a list you composed. Enough to make sure you weren’t a suspect. But fuck now you have to erase your presense here. You’re a nobody, Nada, nothing. Guess it really is time to lay lower than low, like a ghost. “I won’t come back then.” Voice serious and cold.
He laughed, pulling out an envelope from his suit's inner pocket. “S’that so?” Handing it out for you to take, his eyes burn into yours. “Then I’ll just have ta hunt you down, kid.”
Taking the envelope (it felt thicker and heavier than usual) and placing it in your pocket you chuckled, cold, fake, calculating. “Try. I’m good at hiding.” Walking away, hands in pocket, feeling both the envelope and the burner phone, turning your body to avoid bumping into a familiar guy speed walking in. “I’m not a kid…” you mumbled to yourself.
You didn’t bother glancing at the man you dubbed ‘Suit’, real name Jacob Sullivan Jones. It seems it’s time for JSJ to have a run in with the Gotham City Police Department.
It is truly fortunate that Jacob doesn’t know where you're staying. Although he might not know about the warehouse inside the junkyard, he does know you are not a resident with no permanent home. He had stalked you for a bit after the first meeting (the bouncer was so easy to spot really), believing you’re homeless, alone, and a nobody (someone who nobody would miss or look for). You’re using that (somewhat of a mis)information to your advantage.
Leaving the desolate bar, thoughts consumed by the written list of criminals you drafted and plan to anonymously give it to the GCPD. How you got the other criminals caught was simple, you always used a payphone and gave anonymous tips. That won’t work here. At least not fully. Knowing the corruption, maybe you should hand it to the one of the cops you know isn’t corrupt.
Now, do you hack the police and email it? Print it/fax it and send it? Or hand it directly but as spider-woman? Well for starters, the second option is garbage because if the right person doesn’t see it first, it will just get covered up. Hacking into the GCPD and emailing it directly doesn’t sound like a bad idea, the only issue is, if they decided to forward that information to the bats, you’re fucked because then you know they’ll dig in and somehow find out about you.
It seems like going in as Spider-woman is the best bet, but then again, the bats are real close, too close for comfort. Should you take the risk? But if you don’t turn these criminals in, it will stay in your consciousness of letting innocents down. Guess you have to suck it up and do it then.
“This sucks” you mumbled, deep in thought.
Suddenly you felt your body freeze. Feeling your spider sense go haywire, you looked up and hard swerved to the side, avoiding bumping into a stranger.
It seemed that your sudden change in direction caught the stranger’s attention and the person next to him, both heads snapped towards you.
Hands out of pocket awkwardly waving in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry!” Taking a look at the one you almost bumped into, he is tall, with black hair and vibrant blue eyes.
Taking note of your embarrassment the stranger chuckles, looking into your eyes, “No worries! Nice reflexes though!”
The stranger’s partner scowled in your direction and you could feel his eyes burning you alive. “Watch where you walk, you buffoon.” Venom.
“Don’t be rude, Dame.”
“Don’t call me that. We don’t have time for this tomfoolery.”
Alrighty then, guess it’s time to fuck off. “Yes, thank you- again, so sorry.” You don’t even spare the other guy a glance, quickly scurrying off. Your spider sense hasn’t shut off and you don’t like where this is going. “Good bye.”
“Hey wait a minute!”
“What are you doing Kent? Our priority is there.”
Not turning back, you quickened to a brisk walk away from this nauseating area. This whole goddamn experience is so nauseating. You just wanted to go home. Was that soooooo much to ask? Regardless, you did not want to know what those strangers wanted, and you were taught ‘stranger danger’ and it certainly applied here.
After a certain distance later, your senses dulled into a small buzz as you turned a corner and entered the public library. Taking your usual empty seat, you let out a deep sigh. This was what you were used to since coming into this world. Since being yoinked from another dimension and plopped in this universe, your senses never really shut off. It was like everything in this world was a danger, and it only spiked when reacting to blood lust, danger of a certain radius, and people who are incredibly strong.
Recalling that one stranger, who looked too innocent enough for it to be bloodlust, just that their presence caught you so off guard. But your senses screamed at you, and it terrified you to an extent. This is why you can never really relax being here, even when you’re alone in the warehouse, you just feel so out of place, and in danger constantly. It was beginning to eat you up honestly.
You miss your innocent youthful days. God you sound old. But you really do miss having a home to go back to. A home where once you step inside, it’s warm, and two people would always greet you like a warm embrace.
Now it’s cold and desolate, barely anything inside, empty and lonely.
But now, you can’t even go there anymore. Even if it was painful to live in the same home that had more members, then reduced to just you, it was still home.
You can’t even go home.
Remembering the words Jacob Sullivan Jones spoke to you earlier, you fish out the envelope. Taking note of the weight, it was decided to open it and find more than usual.
Picking up a small zip-lock bag, your eyes widened. It was an ID, an ID and a passport. Just what the fuck was Jacob going to do with giving you this? Why did he make this for you? What were his plans? No, you can’t think about that. This is a blessing for sure, and you’ll take it- but, you have to put Jacob in prison. Now.
This is a gift and you know that with criminals, all gifts are never for free. This is a ‘you owe me’ gift. “Fuck, this sucks.” You just want a moment of peace.
Think, you have to think. Now you have an identification, but, you don’t know if you’re in the system, since once again, incase you forgot, you don’t fucking exist here. Whatever Jacob was thinking, you definitely don’t want a part of it. You’re going to put a stop to this now.
Though, recalling the two strangers earlier, you don’t bother with the rude one of the two, more focused on the one with blue eyes. Something about him just stuck out to you. He looked vaguely familiar.
Okay, let’s take this from the top. You felt a strong sense of precaution, thus causing your spider sense to alert you. Your sense only went away when you were a considerable distance away from those two, so you know it’s about the strangers. Bases covered, perfect. What’s next?
You only really focused on the one who you almost touched, so let’s continue from there. He is tall, a welldefine body, black hair, and vibrant blue eyes. That’s all you remember seeing now for what you heard. His friend/partner/acquaintance/fellow party member said ‘Kent’, this could be his name or surname but the name ‘Kent’ makes your throat clogged. You only know of another Kent and it’s a superhero.
It couldn’t be…right?
Turning the computer on, you started typing away, fingers trembling, heart thumping loudly, head spinning, and body sweating. Please, please, please, be wrong. You prayed.
The window search lands on a somewhat recent news. Superman and Superboy save hundreds during bridge collapse! By Lois Lane Kent.
In the photo, on the front page was a scene, both Superman and Superboy. The older one was holding a piece of a bridge while the other younger one was using his heat vision. This was Superman’s son. And you came into contact with him.
You were royally fucking screwed.
Fuck- fuck! No, no nono!
All the anxiety you tried to lock away came like a tsunami. You were reminded of how small you are in this world. How easy it is to find trouble even without looking. You wanted no part in this world but it seems the gods wanted to fuck you over and over again.
And, as much as you wanted to curse out the Spot for yeeting you far faaaaaaar from your universe, you only blame yourself for latching onto him and getting lost on the way to his next destination.
God this sucks! You wanted to curl up and cry, but you can’t. You’re a big girl and so, you’ll deal with this fuckery later. After all, your best trait was putting your issues to the side and focusing on the bigger picture. This- meeting Superman’s son can wait. After all, you haven’t run into any bats besides Signal- yes you researched him when you had free time (you only knew of him but not really who he was), so for now, your spider luck has been blessing you thus far.
You need to focus on the bigger picture, getting Jacob and the other criminals caught.
Getting to work, you begin to type away your list that you memorized, the location of the bar, the owner of the bar was still a mystery but the one who runs it is Jacob, schedule of the bouncer shifts, and the names and alias of those who you encountered as well as the situation of misguided teens. You type it all, making sure to keep your real and fake identity out, you did put in your alias Nada, as a picked up street kid. Enough for it to be a ‘misguided’ teen situation but not enough to catch someone’s attention unless they were looking for it.
Now that you know you ran into Clark Kent’s son (a deduction), you know you can’t risk encountering him as spider-woman. Knowing that Superman can (somehow) memorize and identify someone based on their heart beat or whatever, so fuck no are you going to parade as spider-woman any time soon.
You swear to god that you will do everything you can to avoid meeting them in both their civilian personas and alter egos.
Calming yourself, you get ready to hack the GCPD, and leave a message.
‘They know. Scatter.’
It hits you. The epiphany of why Jacob had an ID and passport made for you. They were moving locations. Abandoning fort, and taking anyone who they wanted. Basically a trafficking ring for those who weren’t onboard, and a new opportunity for those who they saw potential in.
Shit, you should have stopped this when Jacob found you, but you didn’t know anything then. Now it could be too late. But Jacob did say to lay low, so they’re mostly biding their time. Probably erasing, hiding, and misplacing real and fake evidence.
They need to get exposed now, ‘strike while the iron is hot’ as the saying goes.
It seems like it’s time to meet the commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department, James “Jim” Gordon, as Spider-woman. How fun…
Way to contratic your fucking promise so soon. Well, at least it’s a civilian and not a hero/vigilante. “This fucking sucks.”
-
Damian scoffed when Tim wanted to force his father the Batman into his lead. It’s not that he doesn’t want his father, it’s just this is an undercover sort of situation. He got a lead when he went to interrogate a pathetic military criminal. He can handle this mission on his own.
“No, I think it’s best you go with-”
“I am fully capable of handling it myself just fine. I don’t require father’s assistance.” Damian heard Jon chuckle, most likely overhearing this conversation with his super hearing. What a nuisance. “I’m here with Kent, we’re fine Drake.” And the line was turned off.
“Well that was something. So, what’s the plan that you didn’t want Lizzie to be involved in?”
“Focus, Jon.” Damian explained their stakeout first, before going to don their costumes. Deep in their conversation, Damian caught sight of one of the suspects speed walking past them. He brings this to Jon’s attention. “It's him, the mercenary Christopher Conner.”
“Okay, so this bar is the place. Let me check real quick.” Using his vision, Jon’s eyebrow furrows. “Next door is styled like a wrestling ring, only two exits. From here and from an office. This is the place.”
“Then we’ll change and apprehend the criminal. Watch and hear what he is saying.” Jon followed Damian’s lead when someone jumped out of his way like he was burning them, causing Damian to also turn his head.
“I’m so sorry!” Despite the mask covering their mouth, their voice of this buffoon sounded androgynous, their clothes didn’t help to differentiate a gender either. But what he can see were this stranger’s eyes, and he can’t look away.
It seems neither can Jon as he chuckles and waves off the encounter. “No worries! Nice reflexes though!” Jon makes it very obvious he’s staring hard.
Just what is it about this total insignificant stranger that caught Damian’s undivided attention? From what he can see, they look normal (can’t really tell with that face mask though), but there is just something that has him unable to take his eyes off of them.
Jon has the same issue, and Damian narrowed his eyes in suspicion and scowls. “Watch where you walk, you buffoon.”
Jon, without breaking eye contact, scolds Damina. “Don’t be rude, Dame.”
Snapping out of this trance, he snaps back,” Don’t call me that.” That’s right, they are on a mission, no distractions allowed. “We don’t have time for this tomfoolery.”
Jon looks at Damian, as he too, regains his focus, eyes staring into each other as if communicating, he nods. They can come back to this after they finish their assignment.
“Yes, thank you- again, so sorry. Good bye.” The stranger quickly scurried off.
Caught off guard Jon impulsively extended his arm out to grab their shoulder. “Hey wait a minute!”
Damian acted faster, grabbing Jon’s arm. “What are you doing Kent? Our priority is there.” Pointing towards the bar with his head. This isn’t good, they’re getting sidetracked.
Jon didn’t turn to look at Damian, no he was still staring at the stranger. “I just wanted to ask…” He trailed off as he strained his ears, focusing on their heartbeat, their breathing patterns, anything he could to commit to memory. “For their name.”
Damian, too, side glanced at the retreating figure, dissecting the way they moved, their tensed shoulders, everything until they were out of sight.
Jon wanted to ask their name. Was that weird? Their situation didn’t require him to ask their name. How would he even go about it, ‘Sorry for almost bumping into you, hey can I ask for your name?’ Yea, no.
“Damian, I-” Jon began before getting caught off.
“I know. We’ll deal with that later,” His eyes narrow, glancing at the bar. “Focus.” But he too was entranced. But he was much better at pushing that to the side, but he knows he won’t be able to hold it off for now. The best he can do is rein in Jon’s attention to the assignment.
Moving to a cafe nearby with a good view of the bar’s entrance, they ordered some drinks. This wasn’t Damians idea but he’ll let Jon have his way for cooperating.
Jon nodded, getting back into focus, using his super hearing to overhear the conversation inside the bar.
His stomach tingles at the thought of asking the stranger for their name.
Hand discreetly on his year Damian spoke, “Drake, look into the time of now and send it over to me.”
“Hey- wait-” Tim was caught off guard, “What’s this about? I thought you didn’t ‘require assistance’ for this.” He teased.
“I don’t.” He shut the comms off. Now, back to work. “What’s going on Jon?”
“This is our guy. He’s getting assigned to deliver a package. This is serious. He’s upset.”
Damian clicked his tongue. “Tt. Follow.”
Jon tunes into the conversation again.
“The police aren’t the issue. It’s the costumes that have been spotted close. We already lost a couple of our men to the cops.”
“And you don’t think that’s suspicious? We have a traitor!”
“You don’t think I don’t know that, Chris? Ever since Sebastian was caught by the fucking commissioner, the others have been getting caught like flies here in Gotham. He’s spilling, so I need to silence him.”
“The usual?”
“No, not you this time. We’re leaving so I need you to focus on one more thing.”
“Is it about them, the one you want to recruit?”
“Yes, I want them-” a phone rang interrupting the conversation. “It’s the boss. Dismissed, I’ll send ya the rest later.”
“Understood sir. I’ll deliver the packages tonight.” The mercenary walked off, no longer as upset as earlier.
Jon, processing the information, becomes visibly upset. “They’re recruiting, and based on the conversation, it's the runaway and homeless teens that have been reported by the shelters. This is bigger than just Gotham. I think they’re leaving, moving somewhere else.”
“Let’s follow.” Damian’s attention was caught at the mercenary leaving the bar. “There.”
“The guy he was talking to said he would ‘send the rest later’, I think it will be on his phone.” Jon informed.
Damian absorbed the information. “We’ll follow and catch him red handed.”
“What about ‘the package’?” Jon questioned.
“What about them? I’ll forward the intel to the rest. We focus on this guy. The evidence on his phone is all we need.”
“Dame, I can’t with good conscience leave those vulnerable kids on their own.” Stressed Jon.
“And we’re not. The others will take care of it.” Damian replied. “When we apprehend the mercenary, acquire the intel, we go after this guy while the others detain their accomplices and rescue the runaways. They will all fall tonight, Jon, so focus.”
Jonathan Kent wanted to bite back, but he knows Damian ran this plan at least three times before bringing him along. Damian is just that strategic. And he places his full trust in him, god does this leave him unsatisfied. He knows those kids are trapped somewhere and if taking this mercenary and the manager from the bar out gets them safe faster, then he will do as he is told.
Something just feels out of place, this has been too easy so far. “Alright, he’s heading north.”
Damian nods, slipping away to change into his suit.
As if connected, Damian as well feels like things have been progressing smoothly. And when it comes to crimes committed in Gotham, when things are going good, then something isn’t right.
Ever since the first the GCPD have been arresting some low and decent levels of this new crime syndicate, news of some human trafficking organizations have been slowly getting uncovered as if by overnight. It started around five days ago, low level members were caught, and just two days ago, a higher member was arrested.
Ever since his father the Batman (he tagged along) interrogated him, he spilled like a waterfall. Since they have been cracking down on the case, they know this criminal organization is trying to get on the levels of Black Mask or The Penguin.
The only issue is, this was only exclusive to Gotham, now based on what Jon relay to him, this is just a small base, there are others. He refuses to let this go on any further. Not to his city, or his people. Yet, there is this itch in the back of his head. These captures were by far too easy, and these people aren’t sloppy. No, they had been operating for some time, and yet they were getting caught like moths to a flame due to anonymous tips being called in. Someone out there is deliberately getting these scumbags caught.
And Batman believes it could possibly have a connection to the other pressing issue that’s consuming his thought. There has to be a connection to the quantum disturbance from a little over a week ago. It’s just too coincidental for it not to be.
Something is happening in Gotham, and he will get to the bottom of this.
-
You know, people say to plan for everything, thus making Batman a force to be reckoned with since he is the master of having contingency plans and backup plans for those backup plans. And yet, here you are, with a plan and life just wants to fuck you over and expects you to just deal with it.
No.
After coming up with spider-woman handing the commissioner Jim Gordon a list of criminals and misguided teens, you just needed to go and change. But here you are, running into a situation if you will.
You see, after running away from Superman's son, and a printed list folded neatly in your pocket as you head ‘home’, you started to feel the icky sensation of being watched. Years of experience and knowing how not to tip off that you know, you head away from your place of operations and head up north.
Though despite not giving signs of how utterly fucking tense and anxious you are, you rationalize that it can not be any of the birds because you haven’t done anything suspicious. That, and the fact that your spider sense isn’t screaming at you of danger so for now, that’s calming you down.
On the other hand, you still have no clue who is following you. It was like, thirty minutes since running into the super, and no call from the burner phone. This whole ‘being followed’ is a fucking nuisance, putting a wrench in your plans.
The only good thing is that, since you are technically surrounded by civilians walking about, they can’t really do anything to you, unless they want to cause panic amongst the innocents. Though, that wouldn’t stop someone from shooting you if they wanted you dead.
Still, regardless if you are wanted dead (highly unlikely) or alive (for whatever reason) you don’t want to lead innocent civilians into this, so away you go! Informing Jim Gordon can wait (not it can’t), you’ll lose your pursuer and then catch them!
Turning a corner, into alleyways, zig zagging, you hear their footsteps pick up. Persistent.
While running away, you form theories. We crossed out the batsonas, you haven’t done or got caught with anything to be on their radar afterall, it can’t be a random crook because for one, you look poor too, and second, they’re chasing you for a reason. Another idea was maybe it has something to do with Jacob. But that doesn’t make much sense since you just got a burner phone.
Something just isn’t adding up.
Your spider sense spiked as you turned down a corner. Despite this, you kept going straight, ready to take on whoever was going to appear in front of you.
With a very good distance between you and your pursuer you took this chance to discard your mask and sweatshirt (thank god for having a tank top) ontop of a parked motorcycle as you turned another corner, there stood a man near the end of the alleyway, tall and (once again) wellbuilt, with black hair just standing there, phone in hand.
Quickly you jogged towards him (he glanced your way) and grabbed his arm, startling him. “Sorry, please play along!” you whispered and pulled him.
The stranger only had one second to figure out what was happening. In that split second though, he heard a plea for help. The next thing he knew, he had his free hand on the wall above your head while the other one was moved to your waist. Back towards the wall and having his big frame engulf yours, you let his arm go and wrapped them around his neck, pulling him towards your face.
It's only then that you take in his appearance, handsome from what you can see, and your heart dropped. “I’m being followed,” you muttered, noticing the stranger’s eyes roam your face before settling on your eyes. “I don’t know who they are.”
The man in front of you nodded, kept in place as footsteps hastily turned the corner, running past the both of you. Your body tensed up watching the hooded figure stop at the end of the alleyway. Taking the chance to observe the guy, he pulled out a phone while looking both ways before exiting from your view.
While you were distracted the stranger in front of you pulled back, making your release your hold. He was quiet. “Once again, I’m so sorry! Thank you!” You nervously backed away, in the opposite direction your pursuer went.
He grunted, watching you walk back away. He opened his mouth to speak but the phone in his hand began to ring. He glanced down at the caller before looking back up.
You were already gone, picking up your sweatshirt and mask, donning them on and running away. Your heart was pounding so loud, it rang in your ear. That was Jason mother fucking Todd. You ran into the Red Hood. What the fuck was he doing in the Narrows?!
Recalling the words Jacob spoke earlier, it echoed through your head. ‘Bats.’ That’s right. The fucking bats are intown, and this was too close for comfort. This sucks balls!
“Focus, focus. Officer Gordon, here I come.” To the junkyard you go.
-
Jason watched the very pretty woman leave him with his thoughts. Getting pulled into caging someone against a back alley wall was not in his cards today, but with Gotham, one always has to expect the unexpected.
Speaking of the unexpected, he let himself momentarily get distracted recalling the bold stranger from earlier. Something about this woman, rendered him quiet. But at the same time, he took note of just how anxious she was. Tensed body, eyebrows furrowed, worried expression, scared eyes, and over all the way she held onto him while losing her pursuer. He wondered just what kind of trouble found her. It seems crime really doesn’t stop during the daylight.
He committed her face to memory, and will touch upon her situation once he finished his current assignment.
“You still there?” the voice spoke from his phone.
“Yea, I’m still here. I’m in the Narrows, following the lead.”
“Good, while Damian follows the mercenary, you got the manager. I’m seeing some suspicious moments. Turn on your commlink, Bruce is already moody as he is.”
“When isn’t he like that.” Jason rolled his eyes as he walked back to his bike that he parked further in the alley. Before taking off, he glanced in the direction the stranger went. Her actions and the sound of her voice repeated inside his mind like an echo, burning itself in his memory.
Prev; Next;
I realized everything I wanted for this chapter did not happen. So now it's split into two parts- oops. Side note, this will not be a yandere series, though I do think they get 'possessive' sure, not yandere though. I finally know how I am going to end the Act, the issue is the in between that I struggle with.
Yay, you met Jon and Jason. Next up are Cass, Steph, Dick, and Tim the only ones left.
Web Bound Secret Corner!
Spider-Woman had an eidetic memory.
Spider-Woman does not know about the trafficked kids.
Spider-Woman did not notice Damian.
If Spider-Woman had to choose between saving a life and going home, she'd save the life.
Spider-Woman's is bad at grieving and worse with failure.
#batfamily x reader#batfam x reader#dc x reader#series;wb#series; web bound#dick grayson x reader#tim drake x reader#jason todd x reader#damian wayne x reader#barbara gordon x reader#cassandra cain x reader#stephanie brown x reader#duke thomas x reader#nightwing x reader#red hood x reader#red robin x reader#robin x reader#spoiler x reader#orphan x reader#oracle x reader#jon kent x reader#jonathan kent x reader
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snapshots. [—chilchuck tims]
TAGS / WARNINGS: gender neutral reader, modern au, minor pining, background marcille/falin WC: 1,000 NOTE: divorced father of 3 save me... save me divorced father of 3...
✗ MINORS / AGELESS / BLANK BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.
“Move over.”
Chilchuck’s voice startles you. The bowl in his hands is steaming: a hearty stew made with Falin and Marcille’s collective effort—(“Senshi’s tried and true recipe!”). A thick slice of bread perches on its rim. It smells just as heavenly as it did at dinner.
“Here?” you ask, stupefied. The armchair you’ve claimed is wide; there’s easily enough space to fit a Chilchuck-sized person, but your mind jumps—unbidden—to the reason he’d been late in the first place.
“Where else?” He nudges you with his knee. “As if I’m gonna sit near that love-fest over there.”
“You’re not welcome anyways,” Marcille tuts, midway through dipping the maraschino cherry from her sundae into Falin’s mouth.
“This is my apartment!”
You concede with a laugh: it’s just your bruised heart working overtime. The moment his body settles, shoulders touching, you stop being able to taste the ice cream Laios had scooped into your bowl. Existence narrowing to that point of contact with a familiar little rush.
It’s Laios’ turn to choose tonight’s movie, much to Marcille’s dismay—(“A documentary classifies! This is a really interesting one!”)—and he scrolls to find it as Chilchuck digs into his food.
Midway through, you engage him in a thrilling mock-battle of fencing spoons. Falin dozes, lulled from the careful stroke of Marcille’s fingers through her hair. By the time the credits roll, they’re folded onto each other, soft snores drowned out by music.
“They fell asleep again,” Chilchuck drawls, chin cushioned against his hand.
“Must be crashing after all that sugar,” Laios suggests, drapes a blanket over them.
“They were pretty high energy tonight. Eager to hear about how Chilchuck’s date went, I guess,” you tease, taking up the mantle with Marcille fast asleep. “You didn’t even tell us her name.” Keeping the tone casual despite the haunting little pit in your stomach.
(It’d been a shock to hear about it: for as long as you’ve known him, Chilchuck has been eager to keep his life private—even from long-time friends. And there’d been no signs of anyone—except you and your little group—coveting his time and attention; no extra, unexplained toothbrushes, no brands you don’t recognize in his pantry, no missed get-togethers.)
“Huh?” He gives you a look, confusion twisted in his features. The TV’s light illuminates a silver hair. “I wasn’t with any girl.”
Your brow furrows. “…His name? Their name?”
Chilchuck stares. This close—where the minuscule twitches in his expression are noticeable—it’s strangely evaluating.
“You know Marcille was joking when she said it was a date, right?” Heat sears along your cheekbones; embarrassment flushing hot under his gaze—the realization of your mistake.
“Of course I knew,” you say stupidly. Chilchuck’s eyebrow quirks. “Shut up. Don’t look at me like that.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Well, then if it wasn’t a date, who were you with?”
“Senshi,” he says. “He was—we, uh,” his eyes slide off to the side, “I asked him for a favor.”
“Oh?” you hum, relief and mirth creating a warm hum behind your ribs. “Looking to get a side hustle as a cook?”
“Not even close,” he grunts, looking away.
“Should we start calling you our little master chef?” You nudge him with a grin.
“Chilchuck is already quite good at cooking,” Laios pipes up without taking his eyes off the screen. “Maybe he’ll learn to make something else after mastering ramen.”
“Hey—”
“Ramen?” you ask, head tilting. “Like, the instant kind?”
Chilchuck splutters. “No!”
“From scratch!” Laios beams. “Senshi’s said he’s been making really good progress since his first day.”
“Oh?” you grin. “Our little master chef is gonna open a ramen shop?”
“Shut up. No way. Not ever,” Chilchuck grumbles, the high curve of his ear a soft pink.
“I hope you’ll make it for us one day—I love ramen,” you say. “Very tedious, though, so I’ve never done it myself.”
His face scrunches, mouth pursing together like he wants to speak, but doesn’t. His cheeks puff with air, releasing as a long, quiet sigh.
“Oh, hey, so after ramen”—you lean a hand on the chair’s opposite arm, boxing him in with a cheeky little smile—“you should look into French onion soup. It’s probably easier than ramen but caramelizing the onions takes so long—”
“You—!” he leans back, shoulders tense and eyes wide. “Don’t go making requests before I’ve even cooked anything decent.”
“Why not? I bet it’ll be great! You’re good with your hands, so soup is probably a piece of cake for you.” You watch—with no small amount of pleasure—as Chilchuck’s face flushes with vivid color.
“Get away from me,” he mumbles, but his tone is so insincere all you do is laugh. He knocks a loose fist against the inside of your elbow. A surprised noise jumps out; you retreat back against the chair, rubbing the spot.
“Mmh?” Marcille rouses with a sleepy hum. “What’re you requestin’?”
“Chilchuck is making us ramen,” you joke, relishing the way he knocks an admonishing leg against yours. “He’s our little master chef.”
“Oh, yeah. Did Laios end up spilling the beans?” Marcille yawns. Falin stirs, eyes fluttering. “Congratulations, you two.”
Chilchuck goes stiff beside you. “What do you mean?” you ask.
Marcille pauses, head tilting with a drowsy look of confusion. “Huh? Didn’t you ask why he’s learning to make it?” she asks. Falin tugs her sleeve.
You blink. “No. Should I have?” Marcille doesn’t respond right away, head bent to put an ear by Falin’s mouth, expression pinched as they whisper. Then, with a sigh, she reaches up to stretch.
“No. Never mind. Forget I said anything.” Laios is quick to grab her attention.
“Hey, so are you actually opening a ramen shop?” you whisper to Chilchuck.
“You’re such an airhead,” he grunts against his palm.
“I’m great,” you reply. His eyes meet yours, holding your gaze. When next he speaks, his voice is soft—acquiescing easily to your jest.
“Guess you are.”
#chilchuck tims x reader#chilchuck x reader#dungeon meshi fic#dungeon meshi x reader#snapshot fic#reader insert#momodita fic#gender neutral reader#food as a love language from me wow how new and exciting
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DIGI-CAM
PAIRING idol bf!jay x non idol gf!reader
WARNINGS none, but light kisses
GENRE fluff
SYNOPSIS while on break mid concert, jay can’t help but allow himself to be distracted by you. and of course, you always have to take a picture on your digicam.
it was about halfway through the concert. and fortunately, the last show of the fate plus tour.
jay had about 10 minutes before he was supposed to go back on stage. he was already changed, just waiting for heeseung, jungwon, and riki to finish up so they could rotate.
he was going to sit next to you backstage and watch them perform from the monitor. going. past tense.
but when he saw you in your concert outfit, holding your lightstick as you watched heeseung sing, jay couldn’t resist. he brought you away from the monitor and took you back to his dressing room.
he sat on the couch, pulling your hand, motioning for you to sit on his lap. and you happily complied, taking the seat since it was rightfully yours. you had your legs on either side of him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he brought his to your waist.
jay began to press light kisses on you, trailing down from your cheek, to your jaw, down to your neck, and all the way to your clavicle.
“baby, what are you doing?” you giggled, tucking your hair behind your ear as you leaned further into him.
“what? i can’t love my girlfriend?” he mumbled, continuing his motions before bringing his head up. he pressed a long and loving kiss against your lips before pulling away to look at you.
“you have to go back soon.” you whispered. “what if someone comes in?”
“let them see. nothing the staff doesn’t already know.” jay sighed, pulling your chest against his. you could hear his heart beating faster as you pressed your ear against it.
“why are you so nervous my love?”
“been so long since i saw you. i missed you.” he smiled into your hair, playing with it a bit.
“it’s barely been 3 weeks.” “that’s still long. i can barely go a day without hearing your voice.”
“sweet talker.” you poked your tongue against your cheek, pulling away to kiss him again. you brought your hand up to his cheek, stroking his soft skin in a comforting manner.
jay moved down, sucking on your bottom lip before jungwon came in, knocking on the door.
that’s when jay realized your time was up. “jay, time to go. hi yn!” “hi jungwon!” you waved happily. jungwon smiled, before closing the door.
“guess i gotta go now.” he pouted. “but, you’ll be here waiting for me, won’t you?” “of course. i’ll be right here, waiting.” you cooed.
jay carefully pulled you off his lap, treating you as if you were porcelain and he was too scared to break or damage you. he got up off the couch, but paused as you pulled his arm. “wait!” you said.
you pulled your small digital camera out your pocket. you pressed your cheek against your lovely boyfriends, snapping the picture, as you both posed and scrunched your noses.
“tradition.” you say, tapping his cheek before letting him go with one last kiss. “love you.” “i love you too.”
it was indeed your little tradition. before jay would perform or have an evaluation, you would always be there, taking the picture with the same pose on that same camera. your tradition since he was a trainee.
you scrolled through all the pictures on your camera, looking back at at the years of memories. and you smiled.
enjoy this fic? read similar works here!
#enhypen x reader#enhypen#jay x reader#park jongseong x reader#jongseong x reader#enhypen jay x reader#enhypen imagines#jay smau#serena writes ! jay
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jolene // logan sargeant
summary: nothing breaks the internet more than international recording artist dolly parton appearing in the williams garage. well, nothing more than finding out that her granddaughter is dating a certain f1 rookie
pairing: logan sargeant x parton! reader
y/nparton just posted!
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y/nparton this one's personal. i came back to tennesse after spending a year doing my undergrad. by that point, i'd dropped out of university, found myself drinking to regulate my anxiety, and was ready to walk away from it all. without all the love from my parents, from my grandma and from my dear L, i don't think I would have made it out alive.
"i got so high that i saw jesus" is out now on all streaming platforms.
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theofficialdolly I’m so proud of you, sweetheart!
user I wish I was as strong as you are tbh
user you wtf is Logan Sargent doing here fr?
-> user hear me out, hear me out: look at the second picture. clearly she has a boyfriend. her boyfriends name starts with an L. she has the name ‘Logan’ engraved on her guitar, all this time I just thought it was the brand name, but what if it’s her lovers name?
user I have never felt so many emotions in one song before
yourbestfriend SLAY QUEEEN!!! IM SO PROUD IF YOU AND I MISS YOU
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logansargeant my evaluation of your cowboy reputation has me thinking you’re a cutie and I am hopelessly in love with you
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oscarpiastri thank god were allowed to talk about it now, you were getting insufferable
-> logansargeant oh be quiet
y/nparton love you most, florida boy
-> logansargeant love you to saturn, country girl
liamlawson30 Jolene, Jolene, Jolene Jo-leneeee
-> alex_albon IM BEGGING PLEASE DONT TAKE MY MAN
-> oscarpiastri PLEASE DONT TAKE HIM JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN
-> user not the Jolene jokes, they’re so unserious 😭
theofficialdolly you take good care of my granddaughter, young man. welcome to the family.
-> logansargeant of course, ma’am. I love her with my whole heart and soul.
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y/nparton memphis, always a pleasure 🩶
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user DID YOU SEE HOW SHE RAN INTO LOGANS ARMS AFTER SINGING YOU SEXY THING?
—> user AND THEN SHE GAVE HIM HER COWBOY HAT I AM NOT OKAY
oscarpiastri okay so maybe I do like country music
-> logansargeant says the guy who was singing the climb in the car on the way there
logansargeant proud of you sweetheart ❤️
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user this is the sexiest american power couple I have ever seen # pargeant4eva
user my american royals
user so does this mean we get dolly in the williams garage more often
-> williamsracing yes.
SONGS MENTIONED
I got so high that I saw Jesus - noah cyrus
save a horse ride a cowboy - big&rich
you sexy thing - zella day
TAGS
@magnummagnussen @twinkodium @httpiastri @arshiyuh @userlando @mignonricciardo @oconso @lorarri @thatsdemko @libraryofloveletters @sidcrosbyspuck @scuderiamh
#logan sargeant x reader#f1 imagine#formula one x reader#f1 smau#logan sargeant x you#f1 x reader#ig aus
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Hello,
could you write a Hannibal fanfic, where the reader is Will‘s student ( very protective of her) and Hannibal takes a interest in her, after psych. evaluation? He starts wooing her over and Will (platonic) doesn‘t like it at all. In the end there is smut between the reader and Hannibal after a dinner party ?(Maybe Will later here‘s from Crawford about it, because Crawford went to Hannibal‘s house to get him for a case)
Hannibal x Reader: Off limits
Warnings: smut, kissing, patient x therapist, fingering, pet names, cowgirl, ridding, penetration ( p in v), no use of y/n, female reader
Words count: 4,6K (dear lord 🙃)
“I don’t know if this is a good idea Will.”
“Why not?”
“Talking to your psychiatrist about my shit? Don’t you think that crossing some kind of boundary?”
“First he's not my physiatrist, not officially anyway. And secondly I would say drinking at my house crosses more boundaries than this. That didn’t stop you though right?”
“Yeah I guess you’re right.”
“Plus you need this. Talking to someone about stuff helps.”
“Fine. You’re sure he’s okay with it right?”
A week ago Will had mentioned you to Hannibal for the first time since he’d started having his sessions. The conversation had begun because Hannibal had asked him if he had anyone in his corner that he could trust. Will had immediately thought of you. Despite being his student you had helped him through a lot of stuff and pretty soon he considered you more of a friend then a student. He worried people would accuse him of favoritism but you were one smart cookie so he didn’t really have to worry about that. You knew your shit. No one could deny that. Of course Will also worried about people spreading rumors that you were sleeping with him but when he’d shared his concerns with you you’d just shrugged.
“People are gonna say shit about us anyway Will. I’m not gonna cut our friendship because of what some idiots say about us.”
He’d known he could count on you for anything but he could tell you were dealing with a lot more shit then you’d let on. It was one of the reasons why he’d told Hannibal about you. Will wondered if maybe talking with someone you knew he trusted would put your mind at ease. So here the two of you were standing in front of Hannibal's office door. You fiddle with your fingers trying your best to call your racing mind. Will notices your fidgeting causing him to grab onto your hand. You look up at him with a small smile which he returns. You hear the door open making your head snap to look at it.
Hannibal takes in the sight before him, his eyes catching on the way Wills hand is latched onto yours. He forces his gaze to move back up to your face. His eyes soften a bit at the sight of you. You have a sort of deer in headlights look in your eyes and Hannibal can’t help but feel a bit of pity. From what Will had told him you weren’t super into the whole therapy thing but you’d accepted to talk to him because Will thought it would help. Still from the look in your eyes Hannibal could tell you were hesitant. He would have to convince you that you could trust him.
Dr. Lecter gave you a welcoming smile before stepping to the side and gesturing for you to enter. You looked at Will for a moment, a twinge of fear present on your features. Will simply gave your hand a squeeze before letting it go.
“It'll be alright. Dr. Lecter will take care of you. I’ll be here waiting for you.”
“You aren’t going to come in?”
“I’ve found that the session works best if it's just the two of us.”
You glanced at Hannibal as he spoke, trying to make up your mind about him. He placed his palm out to you, inviting you to take his hand. After a moment of hesitation you accepted his invitation, taking his hand in yours and allowing him to guide you inside. He released your palm once you were inside, turning to close the door behind you.
You watched as Will's face slowly became out of view, his boyish smile no longer able to be seen. You turned around, taking in your surroundings. You’d never done this before so you didn’t really know how it worked. Should you sit down? Or were you supposed to lay down like they showed in the movies?
Luckily for you Hannibal seemed to sense your confusion. He made his way to his chair, taking a seat before gesturing to the empty seat before him.
“Please make yourself comfortable.”
You did as he asked, making your way over to the chair. You moved a bit trying to find a comfortable position. Hannibal watched you squirm a bit, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You were quite a sight. Will seemed to have forgotten to mention that. Not that that bothered Hannibal. In fact he welcomed the surprise.
Once you were satisfied with your position you stopped fidgeting and raised your gaze to look at Hannibal. For the first time you saw him. Really saw him. He was oddly attractive with a sort of Victorian beauty. You weren’t used to guys like that. In the FBI most of the guys were covered in scars and built like monster trucks. They needed to look tough, even if they weren’t. That was just part of the job.
But the man before you was nothing like that. With his tailored suit and perfectly combed hair he looked like a man of great importance. The sort of guy you’d call when you needed tickets into some sort of high society party. And yet he had this sort of energy to him that made you feel he wasn’t as innocent as he seemed. If anything his looks hid behind them a sort of unfiltered violence. But somehow you didn’t fear him. In fact you found yourself suddenly intrigued by a man you’d only exchanged less than a few words with.
That was about to change however. Because the moment Hannibal started talking to you it seemed like everything you’d been holding in for years just started to spill out. You told him about how you were treated in the FBI, about how no one thought you had it in you to deal with this kind of stuff. You told him about your home life and your relationship with your family. Your deepest thoughts spilled onto the floor of Hannibal's office and he didn’t seem to mind. He listened to you with so much attention and understanding that it shocked you a bit. By the end of the session you felt like someone had taken the weight of your shoulders.
Will watched you come out of the room, the sound of your laugh filling his ears as you and Hannibal finished talking. A sudden wave of anger filled Will's chest. What had Hannibal said to make you laugh in such an unfiltered manner? The thing about Will was that he was very protective of you. He saw you like a little sister so he couldn’t help but become on edge when in the span of one hour Hannibal had managed to strip away any hesitancy you had entered the session with. He was glad you seemed lighter but he also knew Hannibal and he couldn’t help but worry about his intentions with you.
“I’ll see you next week Dr. Lecter.”
“Just Hannibal is fine dear. There’s no need for these pleasantries.”
“Okay then Hannibal. Same time next week?”
“See you then dear. It was nice seeing you Will.”
Will rose from his seat giving Hannibal one final glance before making his way to you. He placed his hand on your back guiding you towards the door. Hannibal didn't miss the way Will looked at him, but the thought disappeared when he saw the smile you gave him before you left. There was no denying it now. Hannibal found himself very interested in you. If there was something about Hannibal it was that he got what he wanted. And right now what he wanted was you.
You continued to have your sessions with Hannibal. Sometimes you’d talk about the FBI and your studies. Other times you’d talk of your dreams of the future. And then there were days where you felt like you had nothing to say so you’d convince Hannibal to tell you about himself. You’d begun to enjoy your sessions. The closer the day came the more anxious you became. You found yourself contemplating what to wear to therapy. Even though you knew your feelings weren’t exactly “professional” you couldn’t get yourself to care. You’d often catch Hannibal looking at you in ways that didn’t scream professionalism. The more you talked to him the more you felt like you were becoming friends and then one day Hannibal decided to make up his mind.
You were walking around the room, a habit you’d developed during your sessions. Hannibal watched you move around the room, his eyes following the sway of your hips. You had been talking about Will and Hannibal couldn’t seem to hold his tongue any longer.
“Are you interested in Will Graham? Romantically I mean.”
“What? No way! I mean Will is great and all but I see him more like an older brother then anything. He’s been there for me you know?”
You turned to look at Hannibal, your eyes finding him. He stared up at you with a blank look.
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh you just talk alot about him is all.”
“Oh come on Hannibal. Talking about someone a lot doesn’t mean you like them. You of all people should know that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you talk about Dr Bloom a lot but you’re not….interested in her.”
Hannibal watched your brows furrow for a moment, your gaze suddenly glued to the ground.
“Unless you are and I've just read it completely wrong.”
You tried to keep your voice steady and impassive but Hannibal could see the slight disappointment in your tone. He called out your name forcing you to return your gaze to him. You glanced down at him in curiosity.
“You are right. Talking about someone doesn't mean you like them.”
You held your breath for a moment awaiting for the verbal confirmation of what you already imagined.
“I am not romantically interested in Dr. Bloom. I merely respect her as a professional.”
You let out a small sigh, trying your hardest to not show the joy you felt. Hannibal rose from his seat making his way to his desk. You watched him open one of the drawers grabbing a piece of paper. He made his way back to you standing mere inches from you. You looked at the piece of paper in his hand before grabbing it. Your eyes ran over the words scrawled out in his handwriting.
“What’s this?”
“An invitation. I’m having a dinner party on Saturday and I'd love for you to come.”
Will had told you about Hannibal's dinner parties and his custom of inviting people over for dinner but you never imagined you’d be one of these lucky few. A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. You looked up at Hannibal catching the way his eyes narrowed in on your lips.
“Thank you. I’ll be there.”
“Wonderful. It seems our time is up. I’ll see you at the party then.”
He walked you over to the door opening it for you. You nodded your head in thanks, making your way out. Just as Hannibal was about to close the door you spun around.
“Oh um… I've never been to a dinner party. What should I wear?”
It seemed like a silly question but you wanted to fit in with Hannibal's friends. You wanted to show him you could keep up with him. Hannibal looked at you for a moment before speaking.
“Wear whatever you feel like dear. I’m sure you’ll look beautiful in anything you choose. Your presence is the only thing that matters to me.”
Your heart almost stopped at Hannibal's words. It's had been a while since someone had given you such an unfiltered and direct compliment. You were a bit taken aback. In a good way of course.
Hannibal had just revealed to you, in a short amount of words, that he found you beautiful in any way and that he enjoyed being around you. Your mouth was dry as you tried to force yourself to speak. You managed to make your brain work enough to squeak out a small ‘Thank you until Saturday’ before racing to your car.
When Saturday finally came you were practically buzzing with anxiety. You’d tried on three different outfits and settled on one you thought fit in with a dinner party, something stylish but not too flashy. The whole drive over to Hannibal's house you couldn’t seem to calm the hammering of your heart. You tried blasting music to calm yourself but it didn’t work. Fortunately your brain seemed to go into automatic mode because before you knew it you were parking in front of Hannibal's home. You stared at the house from the car window, noticing the lights peeking through the curtains. You took a deep breath in trying to dull the anxiousness you felt.
“He invited you. He wants you here. There is nothing to worry about.”
You stepped out of the car making your way to the door. You thought of knocking for a moment but you doubted he’d be able to hear it over the classical music that seeps through the door. Your finger moved to ring the doorbell, heels tapping the ground as you waited. You turned around talking in the rest of the houses on the street.
Hannibal made his way to the door tugging it open. He didn’t know who to expect, he’d invited quite a lot of people and many of them still hadn’t arrived. All thoughts seemed to leave his mind when his eyes caught onto your frame. You had your back turned to him, the backless dress you’d decided to wear allowing him to see your bare skin. He stared at you for a moment opting to bask in your beauty before calling your attention.
You spun on your heels as the music suddenly grew louder, eyes falling on hannibal. He was wearing a suit like he always was but you could tell this one was special. You were suddenly relieved by your choice of clothing.
“Good evening dear.”
“Hi.”
“You look exquisite. But then again I knew you would. Please come on in.”
You took a cautious step forward entering his home. Hannibal closed the door behind you.
“Come there are some people I want you to meet.”
He placed his palm on your back guiding you around the room. You were used to Will doing that when he was around you but it felt different with Hannibal. There was something arousing about the feeling of his bare skin on yours. You welcomed the feeling, moving across the room full of people with ease. Hannibal didn’t leave your side the entire party. Whenever he needed to do something he’d ofer his forearm to you, a silent request for you to join him. You laughed along with his friends and filled yourself up with the vast variety of food Hannibal had prepared.
As the night went on people began to leave. They’d thank Hannibal for the invitation and go on their way. Oftentimes they’d thank you for hosting as well and you simply didn’t have it in you to correct them. You understood that the way you behaved with Hannibal made it seem like you were an item and even though you knew it was wrong you felt a thrill at the thought.
You finished saying goodbye to the last few people left at the party, closing the door behind you. Once you made sure it was locked you made your way over to the kitchen. Hannibal stood before the counter, his hands working on drying a glass of wine. His head snapped up at the sound of your heels against the floor. You smiled at him, making your way to where he was.
“Need help?”
“No that's alright. There are only a few left.”
“Okay”
You turned to look at the clock seeing the time.
“It’s already that late? I should probably get going.”
You didn’t want to leave but you knew better than to overstep. Hannibal hadn't invited you to stay over. He'd invited you to the dinner party and that had already ended. Hannibal placed the glass in the cupboard before turning to look at you.
“Don’t go yet. There is something I want to show you.”
“Oh okay.”
“Go wait in the living room, I'll be there in a bit.”
You made your way over to the living room. Your feet were starting to hurt so you decided to take off your heels, leaving them by the couch. You walked around the room, making your way over to an odd looking instrument. You sat down on the bench in front of it, eyes moving over the instrument as you tried to understand what it was.
“It’s a theremin.”
Your head snapped over to where Hannibal stood. He had removed his vest and suit jacket leaving him in only his dress shirt.
“How do you play it?”
Hannibal made his way to you. You looked up at him when he stopped next to were you sat.
“May i?”
“Yeah of course.”
Hannibal moved to sit behind you. You sucked in a breath at the feeling of his chest against your back.
“It’s a difficult instrument. You must find the right pitch.”
You watched Hannibal move his hand over the empty air, a small gasp leaving your lips as sound began to come out of the instrument. Hannibal turned to look at you. His heart warmed at the smile that had spread over your face.
“Would you like to try?”
“Oh sure.”
“Give me your hand.”
You lifted your arm allowing Hannibal to grasp your hand in his own.
“Relax your fingers. And try to keep your hand steady.”
You were finding it rather difficult to stop shaking due to the closeness you had to Hannibal. Every time he spoke you could feel his hot breath on your neck and your mind couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have his lips on your skin. Hannibal guided you hand with his. Sound filled the room once more but it wasn’t as nice sounding as when Hannibal had played himself.
“This is hard.”
“It is. The theremin requires a lot of practice. You have to be good with your hands.”
You wondered if he’d meant the innuendo or if he was simply talking and your diary mind had understood something else but you weren't about to waste your opportunity.
“You must have quite skilled hands then Hannibal.”
“I haven’t had any complaints yet.”
A small whine escaped your mouth, immediately followed by a pathetic sigh of Hannibal's name. HIs hand had found its way to your thigh, fingers drawing small shapes on the skin. Instinctively your body relaxed into his frame, your back pressing up against his chest. Hannibal's hand continued to travel down your thigh moving closer and closer to where you wanted him most. His lips found their way to your neck placing kisses to the skin. Your head moved to the side, offering up more of your neck up to him. He sucked a hickey onto you, marking you as his.
“The body is a lot like a theremin.”
Your body jolted forward as his fingers found their way to your pussy. He reached into your underwear, slender fingers moving against your folds. You reached for his thigh hands wrapping around it in desperation.
“You just have to find the right pitch to make someone-”
A moan ripped through your body as he entered his fingers into you.
“Sing.”
Your legs widened, allowing Hannibal to move with more freedom. His fingers moved into you at a slow pace. If it weren't for the pleasure he was bringing you you would almost think he was trying to torture you. Your free hand found its way to his cheek forcing him to turn to look at you. You place your forehead against his, panting as his thumb found your clit.
Hannibal watched your brows furrow as your eyes rolled back in your head for a second, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. He adored you like this. Completely wrapped around his finger. Your nose bumped against his as you moved to kiss him. His lips welcomed you with ease, mouth opening to let your tongue in. Your muscle moved against his as he continued to pleasure you with his hands. You disconnected your lips from Hannibal, a small string of spit continuing to connect him to you. You were starting to get closer to your orgasm and Hannibal could tell. Your hand latched onto his shoulder, nails digging into the skin beneath his shirt. He kept his face close to yours as he continued to work on making you cum. Your breath fanned over his nose as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Your hips bucked up into Hannibal's hand searching for the last bit of friction you needed. With a skilled move of his thumb over your clit Hannibal had you cumming on his fingers. Your body spasmed against him, head falling onto his shoulder as white flashed over your vision.
Hannibal watches your chest rise and fall rapidly as you float back to consciousness. He removes his fingers from your pussy guiding them to your lips. You open your mouth to him, sucking on his digits eagerly. Your eyes snapped open as he removed his fingers from your mouth, placing them inside his own for a moment before releasing them with a pop. You look at him dumbly, your mind completely fogged from your orgasm. Hannibal guides his hand to wrap around your face. You allow him to crash his lips onto yours, your body molding into him once again. It's then that you feel the hardness of him against you.
The feeling of his arousal sends a shock wave into your body making you come back to reality completely. You break the kiss, maneuvering your body so that you're facing Hannibal. You lift your body placing your thighs against his, forcing him to close his legs. You gaze down at him as you move to straddle him, your hand moving to his zipper. Hannibal continues to look up at you as you relive his dick of its confines. A pleased sound makes its way out of your throat at the sight of him. Your free hand moves to your pussy, tugging your soaked underwear to the side. You inch yourself down onto Hannibal's dick, watching his face scrunch up at the feeling of you. His hands find your hips, his impatience causing him to tug you down onto his dick in one go. You gasp at the stretch hands moving to grasp onto his shoulders.
“Fuck hannibal.”
“Feel so good dear. So perfect around me.”
You lift your hips slowly before bringing them back down. You try to start off slow but pretty soon your desperation gets a hold of you. Your hands move to Hannibal's neck, arms wrapping around him. Hannibal presses his face against your chest, his own arms moving to wrap around you. His hips move up, fucking into you. You try to help him as best you can but your thighs are already starting to hurt from being in this position too long. It doesn't seem like Hannibal minds though. In fact once he notices you’re giving your body up to him he seems to find some super strength because before you know it he’s ramming into you.
Your body bounces against his as he guides you up and down on his dick. You release his neck moving your hands to rest on his thighs. The new angle allows him to move against you with more ease causing him to speed up. Before you can even tell him you’re close you’re already gushing around him. Hannibal grunts as his cum paints your walls, his hand moving to rest against your chest. Your fingers move over his hair as he regains his breath, face still pressed against you.
Hannibal lifts his head allowing him to look at you. You have lipstick smeared all over your face and your hair is all tangled but your face holds a look of pure unfiltered joy. Hannibal grins up at you, his hands moving to cup your cheek before pulling you into a tender kiss. You let out a satisfied hum against his lips. He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours.
“Sleep here tonight.”
“Okay.”
You wake the next morning to the sound of the door bell. You groan, lifting your head from Hannibal's neck to look at the time.
“Who the hell is at your house this early on a sunday?”
“Shh go back to bed. They’ll leave soon.”
You snuggle back into Hannibal allowing him to tug you closer. Sleep starts to take over your mind just as the doorbell rings again causing you to let out another groan.
“I should see who it is.”
“Yeah and tell them to fuck of while you’re at it.”
Hannibal chuckles at your words, kissing your cheek before moving to get out of bed. You lift yourself up wrapping the sheets around your bare body as you watch Hannibal tug a sweater over his head.
“Stay there dear. I’ll be right back.”
You nod at him watching him leave the room. He left the bedroom door open allowing you to hear him open the door.
“Jack, what are you doing here?”
Oh shit.
You scramble out of bed tugging on one of Hannibal's sweaters before searching the ground for your underwear. You almost fall over as you try to put it on but you manage to do so without causing an accident. You pad through the house barefoot making your way to the front door.
“Good morning. Sorry to wake you up so early but we have a case that we need help with. Will said you-”
Jack's eyes caught sight of you standing in the corner. Hannibal seemed to notice the shift in Jack's attention causing him to look in the direction he was staring at. Hannibal's eyes fell on your frame observing the way his sweater looked on you. You looked at him, your hands fiddling with each other.
“Is everything okay?”
Hannibal stuck his hand out to you inviting you to come over. You made your way to them allowing Hannibal to pull to him. He placed a kiss on your temple.
“Hi Jack.”
“Hello rookie. I didn’t know you knew Hannibal.”
“Will introduced us.”
“He knows you’re here?”
“No. Why?”
“He called me yesterday. Said you weren’t home. And that you didn’t pick up your phone.”
“Is that why you came?”
“Oh no. We have a murder we need Hannibal to help with.”
“Okay. I’ll come too.”
Jack gave you a look of surprise.
“You aren’t ready for the field, rookie.”
“And Will is?”
Jack opened his mouth to counter you but he knew better. He knew you were close with Will so he knew that Will had told him of all the shit he'd been through because of the FBI. Plus he knew you were famous for your stubbornness and he really didn’t feel like dealing with it right now.
“Fine. Go get ready. Both of you.”
With that Jack exited the house moving to grab his phone out of his pocket. He dialed Will's number. The phone rang twice before he picked up.
“I got Hannibal. We are going to the crime scene now.”
“Okay i’ll be there in a few.”
“Oh and I found your friend. You’ll never guess where.”
Will didn’t even need Jack to finish his phrase to know where you were. Anger bubbled into his body again. He’d have to have a talk with Hannibal about professional boundaries.
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Can I PLEASE request more soft gojo fics pleaseee. Maybe in jujitsu tech where he barges in the class we're teaching just to give us a goodbye kiss because he's going on a mission and he just can't go without a kiss! 🥺
“Teacher, Teacher”
-in which Gojo visits you before he leaves for his mission.
“And so Maki!” You say, staring down at the faces of your students, your arms opening in a hug like motion towards them.
“When using any of your cursed tools, make sure you protect your weak points, it’s essential!”
It was late in the afternoon, and you were currently going over your students last performance in training, your eyes lit up with passionate praise as you evaluated their improvements.
Maki nods, her face resting on her palm, her glasses slipping down her nose slightly.
“Now..Panda.” You turn, looking at him a grin on your face.
Panda straightens, cocking his fluffy head in acknowledgement to your engagement.
You giggle, “Well, you did great! However, maybe try to rely a little less on your size and more on the technical aspect of your attacks.”
“Tuna.” You hear Inumaki sigh, rubbing his shin in which Panda had sat on mid battle.
“If I have the weight shouldn’t I use it?” Panda questions gently, ignoring Inumaki entirely.
You nod, “Of course! Just not to the point where your entire strength hinges on it…If that makes sense..”
“Try throw a punch she means.” Maki interrupts, leaning back in her chair yawning.
“Salmon.”
“Listen, I can’t help it if my battle tactics are different from you’s two” Panda huffs.
“So what? You gonna sit on a curse?”
“Maybe I will.” Panda replies, sticking out his chest, “See if they can handle me!”
Inumaki’s shoulder slumps as he writes something on the book in front of him before holding it up.
“You’ll get destroyed.”
“The hell? No I won’t.”
Maki leans over to read Inumaki’s writing before laughing to herself, “He has a point y’know”
“Stupid point.”
“Bonito flakes.”
“Ooh someone’s mad I beat him.”
“OoOoh some Panda’s mad that he gets annihilated by a grade 4 curse.” Maki cheekily replies, her eyes glimmering with mischief.
“Hey!” You interupt, “Nobodys getting annihilated when I’m the teacher.”
Your students sigh and turn back to you, Inumaki sticking out his tounge to Panda in his movements.
And you giggle to yourself fondly.
You love being a teacher.
After training at Jujutsu Tech it seemed the only natural course for you, you had strength of course, but your real talent stemmed from your ability to create battle plans that exploited sorcerers strengths and disguised their weaknesses.
Yaga had welcomed you as a co-worker just a couple days after your graduation, his grin wide as he explained your duties before frowning at someone behind you.
“And what are you doing here Satoru.”
“What? I’m here to teach.”
“Huh?” You had said turning to look at him.
Even Shoko, who you would tease for her stoicism, raised an eyebrow.
“You’re gonna teach?” She said, “You.”
Gojo placed a hand on his heart, a dramatic showing of offence present in the way he opened his mouth and gasped, “Is it that weird?”
“Yes.” You all deadpanned.
Yaga scratched the back of his head, “Never in all my years of teaching you, have you ever shown an interest in teaching.”
“Well, it’s different now.” Gojo replied simply, grinning at his previous teacher, gloating. “Someone has to look after this one.” He nodded towards you, winking.
“Look after me??” You exclaim, turning to face him fully, your arms crossed, “I’m more than capable of-”
“Is this about Geto?” Shoko had asked plainly, resting her chin on her palm, staring Gojo out.
All of you went silent.
“No, not at all.”
Gojos’ expression had turned cold, as if the very mention of his best friend could freeze any conversation, any fleeting moment. You felt uneasy, your body closing in on itself to fight off the chill.
“Are you sure-”
“Yes.”
It was awkward.
Gojo and Shoko staring at eachother, as if commuting in a silent battle in which you and Yaga could not understand.
Quiet. Until Yaga interupted with a sigh, shaking his head.
“You’ll have to do an interview.”
“HUH?” Gojo replied, his head swinging back to Yaga, breaking his battle with Shoko instantaneously.
“Y/N didn’t need an interview?”
“Y/N is not a reckless.”
“Neither am I!!���
And you remember laughing into your palm, the pain of the past dissipating for a split second, as Gojo pouted, and followed Yaga into his office, as Shoko congratulated you on your new job.
Your new job that you had kept for the last 10 years.
…With Satoru Gojo.
Who had somehow, along the way, stole your heart.
Your phone buzzes from your desk, and you glance at it to see a message for Satoru, asking you if you wanted anything back from his mission later.
You deflate a little at the reminder.
You weren’t going to see Gojo before his mission due to your scheduled classes with the second years.
It had been a while since you had properly spent time with him, you missed seeing his silly face.
You sigh, you’ll reply later.
“So Maki, were you with Nobara yesterday?” You hear Panda start as you tune back into your students conversation.
“Huh? Yea? We were training.”
“Oh oh oh…Private training sessions…” Panda smirks, and you swear Maki’s glare could kill.
“Salmonnn~.”
“Shut up Inumaki.”
“Look Inumaki she’s totally blushing!” Panda laughs, you think it sounds more like a roar.
“That’s it! I swear to God, next training session I will fuc-”
The sliding door behind you opens, and you turn to see your boyfriend waltz into the room, bending to pass through the threshold.
“There she is!” Gojo says, opening his arms in your direction.
“Oh here we go.” Maki mutters.
Gojo was beaming, his mouth carrying the weight of his expression, teeth bared in a wide grin, eyes hidden behind his blindfold.
He raised his arms and walked towards you, ignoring your students exasperation, only focusing on you.
“Hello!” You say, as he pulls you into his chest, giving you a big; dramatic kiss on your head, swaying gently.
“Thought you were leaving?” You question, leaning towards him.
���I was, but someone didn’t reply to my text.” Gojo huffs back, pulling away to watch your face.
“How can I face this world’s dangers if I’m being ignored!?”
“You just sent it Toru.”
“Aha! So you did see it!”
“I was gonna reply later.”
Gojo shakes his head, pouting, “Not good enough.”
You watch amused as he taps his cheek twice, challenging you.
You giggle rising up on your feet to kiss his cheek, before you push him away by the chest.
“Go!” You say, your voice light, “You got your goodbyes, don’t let me hold you back.”
And he just looks at you, a soft smile on his face and you miss the cheeky look he gives you before leaning down and quickly kissing you.
It was small and gentle, and you barely register the disgusted groans of your students, your cheeks warning.
“I’ll be home by 10.” Gojo says, patting your head, “Don’t wait up for me if you’re tired yea?”
And you nod, although you both know that you’ll stay up to see him regardless.
“Be safe!” You call after him, as he walks away, a spring in his step.
“Always am baby!”
And then he’s gone, and you’re left speechless and smiling.
“God, can we leave?” Maki groans, “I feel sick.”
“You just wish that was you and Nobara Maki.” Panda teases, and you hear Inumaki laugh, slapping the desk.
Maki’s face turns bright red and she stands up from her desk, pointing a finger at Panda.
“You and me outside now, we can see if Pandas can survive being buried alive!”
“Oh it’s on!”
You lift an eyebrow and all three of them rise, not bothering to stop them.
“Please try not to kill each other.” You call after them, laughing as Inumaki salutes you before he exits.
…You love being a teacher.
masterlist <3
FEEL FREE TO LEAVE A REQUEST
A/N THANK U FOR THE REQUEST !!! i decided just to write it silly, just bc i’m not too good at the characterisation of the second year students EEK so i hope this is ok !!!!! i love gojo <3 also i wrote this instead of getting ready for work so AHHHHHH i have to panic get ready now so that’s fun
i love you all have a lovely LOVELY day thank u for reading :)
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jjk leaks#gojo satoru x reader#gojo fluff#gojo smut#gojo comfort#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk fluff
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I've just re-read my previous requested fic for tf 141 x reader with high pain tolerance, and I think we could extend this prompt (and as always you can take it or leave it, no pressure a yea 👍🏻)
What if TF 141 almost lost F!Reader again, this time she got caught by enemies and got tortured for crucial/classified information. While being tortured, you can't help but feel a little grateful that you have such an extreme pain tolerance. You finally managed to get out that place by your own (and of course after unaliving your enemies) and got back to your team. Men are worried as hell cause 1) you look like shit, like someone has just crawled out of hell (which in your part it isn't wrong), 2) the fact that you have extreme pain tolerance just make it worse
And when you finally got evaluated by medics, including clothes off, that's when they knew you'd have it worse than what they've imagined. Black-ish bruises almost every where, broken bones, dislocated joints, dried blood etc. It's heartbreaking seeing you like this. Probably some will have self blaming, guilty, rage, and other mixed emotions. Hmm imagine the heavy angst but also the massive comfort after that.
Thankskie 🦈
Summary: high pain tolerance F!Reader get tortured, after you getting rescued, enjoy the FLUFF between you and TF141
cw: very slight gore (interrogation), canon swearing, canon violence
blahaj, FLUFF, TF141*F!Reader
last req about high pain tolerance F!Reader
Oh, This isn’t great. You probably going to die this time.
You licked your chapped lips, the bitterness of iron is obnoxious, making you regret the motion and go back to try to piece together your memories again.
You counted the time when you first got caught, but after endless rounds of interrogations, your mind is too hazy to keep up the measurement.
With your hands bounding tightly on your back, chains and steel bars preventing your legs from moving, all you can do is just prey for your teammates to come.
At least you aren’t afraid, no fear of death, nor fear of pain. It’s always these moments that you feel grateful for having almost no feelings of pain, it makes you keep composed and adamant.
Well, starving kind of sucks though, you guess you’ll even devour those vegetables you hated and shoved into Kyle’s plate if it’s presented to you.
Your mind wanders, from your pudding hiding in the deepest part of the fridge in case someone (Soap) eats it, to how Price will scold your ears off for being too reckless when you’re back, until the footsteps outside the door remind you to concentrate.
Damn, you need to get out alive if you want to listen to your dear Captain recite the rules.
The door creaks open with the broad man stepping in and his dogs tailing after with weapons.
The cool water gets splashed on your face when the man stands still in front of you.
“New toy, yeah?” you spot the machete in the man’s grip
“Glad to see you awake, sergeant?” The man laughs “Seems like the mouth still works pretty well, I hope your mind is clear too so we can cooperate perfectly today.”
“Sober enough to tell you ‘no’, I guess”
Red pours from your shoulder the second after your taunt, and you frown slightly at the little sting.
“Fucking bitch still has a sharp tongue after these wounds...” He eyes down at you with a bit of disbelief.
Even though you can’t see yourself, you know you look like shit either. Burnings from the lighters, slash wounds from various tactical knives, dark bruises forming on your thigh and other parts after countless punches and kicks.
All you need to do is buy time, but even if you barely feel pain, you still will die from blood loss if this keeps going.
The rest of the interrogation is just adding more injuries to your broken body, and your consciousness starts fading.
You really want to take a nap... but will you wake up again? you’re not sure especially when another smash lands on the back of your head.
Just about minutes before you sure will pass out again, you hear the noise. Gunfire, yelling, screaming of a massacre.
They arrived...
“Go check what’s wrong.” The broad man gestures, and one of his subordinates walks out to
“Guess your saviors have come... now” You look straight into the man ’s eyes when he puts the muzzle between your eyes. “No time for playing, one last time, tell me the people gave you the intel.”
The chaos outside is getting louder and closer. Buy time, you tell yourself again, so you whisper
“Okay... Okay... I will tell you, please don’t kill me, please...” You sniff, and start sobbing while your head stays lowered.
“Finally giving up, huh? Tell me, I need their name, who do they belong.” The smirk on the man’s face gets wider, god, you really want to punch his face.
“It’s...” You murmur, and the man leans closer to hear clearly.
“It’s go fuck yourself, you bloody bastard.” You spit the blood on his face and grin like a maniac.
and the door swings open, the gunshot splatters the man’s blood on your face, but you don’t care.
You win.
“Hey, guys, long time no see.” You smile at your teammates after the man collapses beside you.
“You’re fine now, don’t worry, we got you.” Soap rushes to your side “Price is calling the exfil, Ghost and Gaz are outside making sure everything’s clear.”
“Thanks...” You melt into Soap’s arm when he unties the rope and carries you.
“I tell the bastard to go fuck himself, hehe.”
“Stop talking, bonnie, ye need to rest.”
“Did I do great?”
“Yes.” The gravel voice of Soap’s becomes softer as he answers.
“May I rest now?” you blink slowly.
“Of course, lassie.”
Getting the confirmation, The warmth radiating from Soap is too soothing, you want to tell him how much you miss them, but those words are unable to come out as you get dragged into a coma instantly.
“damn...”
Your eyelids flutter open, the familiar white ceiling is the first thing you see.
“Morning, bonnie, how do ye feel?”
“dizzy as fuck.”
“pain?”
“Nah.”
“Sometimes I think you’re not human...” Soap laughs, but he’s worried, or worried can’t describe his mood when he saw your wounds as you were sent into the infirmary.
That day when they back to base, all of them followed you, and didn’t pay any mind about getting their gears off first.
You looked like someone who just found her way out of hell, beautiful face swollen, large bruises spread across your skin like some nasty paintings, and the situation was worse than they expected after the medics cut your clothes off and started their evaluation.
Soap couldn’t forget the rage swallowing him like flames when he saw what you went through in those days, the more wounds they spotted, the more tension in the air became more insufferable.
Gaz and he cursed when they saw the huge burn on your back, skin obviously inflamed, and when the deep cuts that exposed the bones revealed from the cover, he noticed Ghost clenching his fist to suppress anger.
Price stormed out of the infirmary and called Laswell between the medics surmising how many of your bones were broken.
“Wait...” your voice pulls Soap back to reality “blahaj! 4 blahaj! Where do they come from?”
“Price gave them to you, as rewards for your hard work. He said you keep rambling about wanting to have one.”
“awwww” Soap grins as he watches you struggle to hug all of them at one time.
“There ya go.” He helps adjust the plushies so you can get them all in your arms.
“Oh yeah, where’s others?”
“Price’s on op, will be back in a week. Ghost and Gaz will visit you soon.”
“Hmmmm.”
You caress one of the blahaj’s head and turn your face
“Thank you.” you grin “For coming to save me.”
“What are you talking about?” Covering his hand on yours, he looks into your eyes, without those playful glints in his azure ones.
“We’re a team, or more than a team. Ye think we will throw ye there and do nothing?”
The seriousness on his face infatuates you, you meet his gaze without darting, and finally, break into tender giggles.
“yeah, sorry, you’re right.” You chuckle “You know what? In that basement, All I wanted was to get out of there and come back to eat my pudding.”
“Pudding?”
“Yeah, I have one in the fridge.” nodding in excitement, you continue “I should ask the doctor if I can eat it.”
“Wait that’s yours?!”
“What’s wrong?”
“Ehhh...” Soap’s smile freezes on his face under panic “I ate it.”
“...”
Soap MacTavish gets kicked out of the room with a new mission: buy 10 puddings.
When Gaz knocks on the door and steps into your ward, you are staring out the window, but turn to him immediately when you hear his arrival.
“Hey, Kyle.” You wave with your better hand.
“Feel better?” The sugar-coated smile he has always provides you with energy, your mood lights up as he takes the seat beside your bed.
“mmhmm, not that dizzy anymore.”
“loves those sharks very much?” He points at the blahajs you squeeze close to you.
“Damn, they’re my new babies now.” You show Gaz each of them.
“This is Pricey, this is Ghostie, this is Gazzy, and this is Soapy.” Proudly introducing them to Gaz, you give the sharkies a few pats.
“Such Innovative names, hm?”
“I don’t think Gaz is some special name too, Kyle.”
You both giggle at the stupid names you granted to the sharks, while Gaz lands his eyes on your arm hanging mid-air, his laughter gradually comes to a halt.
“Hey.” He watches you raise an eyebrow when he calls you “Sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“Just...” His eyes stay on your bruises, traveling along them, and he hates that they lead his gaze to roam your whole figure. “We should be there faster.”
His brown eyes are full of distress when they meet yours again.
“Garrick, come closer.” You beckons, and he follows suit.
“Don’t apologize. When I saw all of you on that goddamn chair, I knew I was safe now.” You cradle his cheek in your palm “You guys are my shelter, my home, and I never thought the chance that my team wouldn’t save me, Soap said it yesterday, and I’m sure you’re the same, yes?”
“Of course.” His eyes soften, and you return him a reassuring smile when
“Time for you to go train the rookies, right?” Shooting a glimpse at the clock, you ask.
“yeah, time to deal with those troubles.” He stands up from the chair and looks down at you “See you, lovie.”
“see ya.”
You watch him walk towards the door, but stop after a few steps.
“Why does Soapy have a huge dent on his head?”
“Oh.” You pout “He ate my pudding, so I punched his shark since I can’t spar with him now.” another punch hit Soapy when you finish speaking.
“Wow...”
Gaz mourns for his brother’s future with his whole heart.
“Still awake?” The gruff yet gentle voice floats into your ear the moment the door slides open.
“Been sleeping the whole day, LT.”
Ghost watches you shift, and lies on your side to face him.
“How’s the day, Ghost?”
“Shit as usual.”
“How about seeing me, feel better?”
“Feels worse.”
“Hey, honesty is a virtue but not here.”
He scoffs at your retort as he observes your face.
“The bruises on your face look smaller.” Ghost indicates.
“Oh yeah, my face! How does it look like?” You point at the hand mirror Gaz brings you, and after Ghost hands it to you, you open the lid.
“Jesus Christ!” you shout when the reflection shows you how shit you look like “I’m so ugly right now!”
“We all know.”
“Damn, if there’s an award for honesty, you will be the winner, Simon.” You throw the mirror back into his grip.
“Will you congratulate me?”
“I will give you an ‘I’m a winner’ sticker for you to paste on your mask.”
He chuckles at your banter, but you can sense his exhaustion, from his limp body to his half-lid eyes.
“You’re tired, Simon. Go back to rest.” You coo softly.
“I’m not leaving until you sleep.”
“but I’m not that sleepy now.”
“Should I sing you a lullaby, sergeant?”
“I’m afraid that my ears don’t have the honor the hear your beautiful singing, Sir.” you feign an ‘oh hell no’ face to him, but your eyes light up when an idea comes to mind.
“Hey, how about you lie on my bed? it can fit 2 people.”
“I don’t know you’re such an active woman.”
“Fuck you, Simon. If you want me to fall asleep then get on the bed right now!”
Sighs in compromise, Ghost rises from the chair and sits on the edge of your bed with a grunt, and you scoot inward to leave him more space to lie down.
“You’re like a bear, Ghost, I’m gonna squash into a pie by you and the blahajs!”
“Then throw those bloody sharks on the floor.”
“No! they’re Tf141 blahaj!” You pet the one in your arms when Ghost gives you a confused face. “This is you, Ghost.”
“The real Ghost is beside you and you choose him over a fake one?”
“I don’t know you’re that active, lieutenant.”
You smirk at him, he’s only wearing a balaclava, so you’re able to see the corner of his eyes crinkle at your words.
But Ghost must have some magic, you grow sleepier under his presence, maybe it’s his steady breath sounds like a lullaby, or it’s because safety he always generously offers to you.
“Sleepy now?” He speaks slowly and quietly as if he’s fear of scaring your sleepiness away.
“a bit...” A big yawn answers the question better than your slurry voice.
“Close your eyes then.”
“mmm.”
You secure the Ghostie blahaj in a tight embrace as you follow Ghost’s command.
you feel light pats on your non-injured part, and you scoot closer to the bulky man, letting him lead you into a peaceful sleep.
Ghost watches you fall asleep, and he moves off the bed as gently as he can.
“Sweet dreams.” He chants in a low voice, and he takes other sharks in his hand, placing them closer to you.
Making sure the sharks are cuddling you, he leaves like a ghost in the serene silence.
You look down at yourself, ankles tied to the chair, blood dripping from the knife that’s barely in your sight.
Aren’t you already out of that basement...?
Is it all a dream? In reality, you’re still getting interrogated?
You try to fixate on the noise outside the door, but you feel the cold metal touching your forehead.
Am I never going to see them again? I want to see them again...
I want to hear Price’s praises, want to hear Soap and Gaz fighting over the last biscuit, want to hear Ghost’s annoyed voices at my frolic.
Tears gather in your eyes when you hear the click from turning off the safety of the gun.
“... geant...sergeant... sergeant.”
“Ahh!” You let out a yell as you snap your eyes open, which are wide with horror.
“Cap-Captain...” You pant whilst you recognize the person pulling you from your nightmare.
“Yes, it’s me, love. You’re safe now, you’re in the base, infirmary, remember?” He caresses your hair to calm you down.
Oh, yes, you aren’t in that basement. You’re back.
You’re with the people you love.
“Why are you here, Captain?” after you breathe steadily again, you notice it’s 1 am, and the aisle outside is silent.
“Just came back from the op, and want to see you.”
“You should have some rest, Price.”
“You mean I leave now even when you just woke up from a nightmare?” He crooks his eyebrows.
“Well...”
“Be selfish, love. I will stay here.”
“You don’t blame me for being too stupid and getting caught by the enemy?”
“Things went south sometimes.” He shakes his head “It’s not your fault.”
“...”
“Say it, luv.” He encourages you when you hesitate.
“I...” “I thought I was not afraid of anything... at least in that basement, pain’s not a big deal for me, starvation is bearable, and death... if that means I won’t lose to those dorks, then it’s nothing to me.”
Price gives you a grunt as acknowledgement, so you continue.
“but... I think I’m still afraid of dying...” You fidget your fingers “I want to see all of you again... I want to come back to you.”
“I don’t want to die...”
You haven’t noticed tears staining your cheeks until Price’s finger — calloused yet warm — wipes the tears away.
“We all know you’re brave, kid.” Price cups your face, hand barely touches your skin, must be avoiding trigger your pain, but you don’t care, nor you can feel the pain, you shove your cheek in it and earn a chuckle from the man.
“Your high pain tolerance makes you look forward to your target without worrying yourself, but keep in mind.”
“Don’t make us worry, you need to come back to us, we can’t lose you, just like you can lose us. Understood?”
“Yes, Capt.”
“You want to go back to sleep?”
“If you tell me a bedtime story, then I will.” the mischievous grin returns to your face.
“Greedy, eh? I thought those sharks could satisfy you.”
“I want your bedtime story too.”
“How about I tell you a story about how to become an attentive soldier?”
“Fuck you, Captain.”
You hit Price with the plushie, which he catches easily, and put it on his lap, letting you give the shark little punches to drain your excessive energy, as he starts telling what happened when he met Soap the first time.
You aren’t afraid of pain, and you become an undaunted person on the battlefield. Yet still, you now keep in mind that there are people who love you, and are worried about you.
You all are a team, a home, and a haven for each other, always by each other’s side, or waiting for others to return safely.
and it’s really nice to be able to come back home.
a/n: thanks for reading! and thank you sharkie for the request, I hope you will like it (or not too disappointed) !! :D
Have a nice day/night, everyone!
#cod imagine#cod x reader#cod x you#simon riley x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley imagine#ghost x you#soap x reader#gaz x reader#simon 'ghost' riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#john soap mactavish x you#john soap mctavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#john price x reader#price x you#price x reader#john price x you#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader#tf141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#gaz x you#soap x you#queued post
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Ruined Movie Dates ✧.*
James Potter x Reader
Hurt/Comfort
“Did you think I would have been mad? because i’m not mad, honestly I don’t think I could ever be mad at you even now when you hide yourself in a bathroom to avoid me helping you when you are hurt, I can never be mad.”
masterlist
————————————————————————
You are currently hiding from James in the bathroom.
It’s not like you want to be hiding from James, you want to be cuddled up in his arms watching a movie right about now as you had planned yesterday, but here you are with a black eye hiding in your bathroom as you hear James letting himself into your apartment.
It really wasn’t your fault it’s not like you prompted this person to punch you, she mistaked you for the girl who slept with her girlfriend and that’s fair.
but god does it hurt like an absolute bitch.
And all you know is that James can not know about this. Your sweet, kind, lovely, caring boyfriend would flip the absolute fuck out if he saw that you had a black eye.
in a loving and concerned way of course but, how exactly are you going to hide it from him when he’s literally in your apartment right now for a movie date?
you have absolutely no idea.
“Love?”
you hear James call from the entry way
“I’m just in the bathroom i’ll be out in a sec!”
fuck.
you usually keep your makeup in a drawer under the sink but as you open it is you realize you left your foundation in your purse yesterday when you were running late to work. Now you really have to option but to kick James out and wait until your eye heals to see him again.
“Um James can you come here please?” you ask in a small voice
you hear his footsteps come from the kitchen up until the door and you open the door a crack so that he can’t see your bruised eye
“I’m really not feeling good tonight and I know it’s a little late to cancel seemingly as you’re already in my apartment but I hope you’ll understand when I ask you to please go?”
he stands there silently staring at you, evaluating you, looking right into your soul, and stealing all the thoughts from your brain.
how dare he.
“If you really are feeling unwell and want me to go, I will but I don’t mind getting sick and I would rather take care of you, if you’ll let me?”
and shit. When he talks in that sickly sweet voice it’s really fucking hard to lie to him.
“Jamie I appreciate the offer but I just really need you to go-“
as you are as politely as possible asking him to remove himself from the premises of your apartment complex he shifts his position allowing him to see just a little further into the bathroom. Just enough to see your absolutely fucked eye.
“Baby what happened?”
All the sudden his concerned look gets ten times worse. his eyebrow scrunches more and is frown deepens and he opens the door to grab your chin and examine your eye.
without the stress of trying to hide from james you can finally feel the throbbing pain in your eye and you really wish you had sneaked an ice pack before you scurried into hiding
“lovie you have to tell me what happened”
you just whine.
he lightly brushes his finger over the bruise and you wince
“sorry”
“it’s okay” you say taking a deep breath
“This girl mistaked me for the girl her girlfriends been cheating on her with but it’s not her fault because she showed me a picture and we do look exactly the same I mean I was wondering if i was secretly adopted and had a twin that I didn’t know about-“
and now youre rambling and it doesn’t seem to be soothing james’ pitying expression
“ Love why didn’t you call me immediately? I would have been there in an instant. Did you think I would have been mad? because i’m not mad, honestly I don’t think I could ever be mad at you even now when you hide yourself in a bathroom to avoid me helping you when you are hurt, I can never be mad.”
“i’m sorry I just didn’t want to make it a big deal”
“it is a big deal, you’re hurt, cmon love let’s go get an ice pack that must hurt”
and he scooped you up into his arms as if it was your legs that were hurt and carried you the couch as he grabbed an ice pack
you can’t lie, there are much worse things than being taken care of by james. much much worse.
#james potter x you#james fleamont potter#james potter fluff#james potter x reader#james potter fanfiction#james potter#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter imagine#james potter x fem!reader#jamespotter#james potter hurt/comfort#marauders era
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SURPRISE! - TERRY RICHMOND x BLACK FEM (AFAB) READER
WARNINGS: 18+ ; angst; fluff; SMUT; minors do not interact!
PAIRING: Terry x Gwen (reader)
SUMMARY: You and Terry have been broken up for 3 months. You’re injured in an accident and the hospital calls Terry to notify him and… surprise
TROPES: second chance;
WORD COUNT: 4,074
“Ms. Daniels, please wake up”, a gentle voice eases me back into consciousness. My head feels like it’s being split open with a claw hammer. I blink slowly so that my eyes can adjust.
When my eyes finally focus I look up to see a pretty lady in scrubs looking down kindly at me.
“Welcome back Ms. Daniels. You had us scared there for a moment,” she says.
“What hospital am I in? What happened?” I say sitting up and holding my head.
“You’re at Benson Memorial. You were in a bicycle accident. You’re fine just a few bumps and bruises. Your head CT was clear, so nothing to worry about there, ” she says handing me a cup of water.
I take slow small sips as I try to recall the past few hours. I never even saw that car coming as I crossed the road from one trail to the next. I hear muffled shouting coming from outside my room, and the doctor shoots a nervous glance my way.
“Ms. Daniels, your boyfriend is outside and I don’t know how much longer he can wait”
I nearly choke on my water, “Boyfriend?”
I hear a commotion outside my door before the doctor/ nurse can open her mouth.
“Nah, I’ve been here for two fucking hours and no one has told me how she’s doing yet! I’m going to see my girlfriend if you want to throw me out after then throw me out!”
I’ll never forget that voice. Terry is here. Now. He bursts into my room looking as good as ever but incredibly worried. When his eyes land on mine his shoulders sag with relief and he rushes to my side.
“What happened?! How bad are you hurt? Were you wearing your helmet?” He asks, his mouth running a mile a minute. I must be dreaming there’s no way Terry’s here we broke up 3 months ago after he came back from Shelby Springs.
He came back different after trying to bail his cousin Mike out of jail. I tried to be there for him and provide all the support he needed but he just pushed me away. When I found out that he had been helping a girl named Summer, he completely shut down and wouldn’t say anything. I didn’t want to give him an ultimatum so I told him that when he figured everything out to come and find me. Two weeks later I got a letter that absolutely broke me.
“Why did they call you?” I asked looking at my doctor.
“He’s listed as the primary on your emergency contact list we have on file here”, she said motioning someone else in scrubs to come in. Another woman comes in holding an ultrasound machine and my heart stops.
“Is my baby ok?!” I ask immediately grasping at my stomach.
“That’s why I needed to wake you. Ms. Daniels, we need your consent to do a transvaginal ultrasound so we can evaluate the status of your baby”, the doctor says remaining calm.
I nod, “Of course, please do what you need to do”.
There’s a deep sigh to my right. I almost forgot that Terry was next to me. When I glance over at him he looks shocked and heartbroken.
“I’m sorry I know I should’ve told you but you sent that letter the day I took the test and I didn’t know what to do”, I said right before the waterworks started, courtesy of your pregnancy hormones. Terry just looked at me his eyes softening but his trademark frown was still there.
“Can you give us a minute please?” Terry asks the doctor.
She nods, “We’ll be right outside tap the door twice. We need to get this ultrasound done so the faster the better you two.” Then she’s out the door.
“So the baby’s mine?” Terry asks.
I nod my head, a fresh wave of tears coming.
“I never meant to keep from you this long but you weren’t returning my calls and I couldn’t reach you. You didn’t leave a return address on the letters you sent, which ripped me apart by the way, and you just fell off the face of the earth Terry! I mean come the fuck on! I’m in love with you and finding out I’m having your baby just for you to dump us over a fucking letter!”, I’m out of breath, my chest heaving with anger.
He opens his mouth to speak but I cut him off, “We don’t have the time to get into this now. We’ll talk later now please let the doctor in, I need this baby to be ok”, I say my eyes burning with unshed tears. Jesus everything makes me so emotional now, well let’s be real it wasn’t that different before I got pregnant. Terry looks at me, his eyes softening to that doe-eyed steel gray.
“Sure thing princess,” he says with a small smirk. Terry gets up and I bite my lip at the way his ass looks in his khakis. Has he gotten finer since I last saw him? He taps the door twice and almost immediately the nurse is back in the door, the doctor following in shortly after. They set up all the equipment, I put my feet in the stirrups, and the doctor began her exam.
“Aaaaand that is your baby’s heartbeat!”, the doctor says as she points to the disfigured blob that’s my baby.
“Terry look!” I say as I point my finger toward the screen.
I turn my head to the right and I see a small smile on Terry’s face.
“That’s our baby?” he says all choked up. Two small tears fall out of each eye as he looks down at me.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” I say reaching for Terry’s hand.
He grabs it and says, “We’ll talk when we get home.”
Home? Like my home or he’s just taking me to my house and that’s my home.
“How did the hospital even get in touch with you?”, I ask as Terry drives us home.
“I just got a new phone, same number,” he says eyes focused on the road.
“Oh, ok,” I say folding my arms across my chest.
“I already know what you’re thinking. I was going to call you, but a lot of what I have to say shouldn’t be said over the phone. I want a chance to explain myself. I never should’ve ended things the way I did. You deserve so much better than what I gave you and I can’t be any more clear when I say I’m so sorry. I fucked up.”
“Ok when we get home I want to know everything”, I say gently. Terry looks my way and nods twice before looking back at the road.
“Yeah, can I get two double cheeseburgers all the way with cajun fries please?” Terry says to the ‘five guys’ employee.
“Aww, you remember my order?” I say my face softening.
“It’s been three months. Not three years. I didn’t forget baby” Terry huffed looking at me with that sexy-ass side-eye.
“Don’t look at me like that. I’m supposed to be mad at you,” I say rolling my eyes. There’s no way this man has me in the palm of his hand in an hour and a half. I need to stand the fuck up. Terry grabs our food when they call our number and escorts us out of the restaurant.
He chuckles as we get back in the car and says, “Oh it’ll come back to you I’m sure.” I roll my eyes, looking at the scenery passing by.
“You said ‘I can’t do this anymore Gwen. It’s not you it’s me.’ Terry, you have no fucking idea how much that hurt. How insignificant it made me feel. Like I wasn’t even good enough to break up in person so you use a fucking letter?” These pregnancy hormones are no joke I was thinking about mounting this man and now I’m going off on him.
“Babygirl I’m so sorry. Please, when we get home I’ll finally be able to explain myself. Please don’t cry, baby I never meant to hurt you the way that I did. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
“I made my peace with this a long time ago Terry. Some people just aren’t meant to be together,” my voice breaks as I try to keep my emotions at bay.
“I wanted us to work so bad I would’ve done anything to keep you, but I won’t do that anymore. I’m worth more than that. Our baby is worth more than that. I won’t have them question my love for them I’m going to show up for them every day because that’s what a mother does,” I take a few deep breaths to try and compose myself, but I can feel the dam start to break. I look over at Terry and he has a deep frown on his face. He’s white-knuckling the steering wheel and I can tell by his posture that he’s trying to keep his cool.
I unlock my front door to let Terry and myself in. He follows silently behind me. I can feel the tension radiating off him. Despite how he feels right now he still pulls out everything I need to eat and sets my place at the table. I wait for him to join me before I start eating. We eat in a tense, awkward silence before he breaks the spell of uncertainty around us.
“Mike’s dead.” I didn’t have to look up to see the pain on Terry’s face. The burning behind my eyes is instant.
“What do you mean dead? You were going to bail him out?!” I reached for my necklace. It’s a locket, Terry gave me after our first anniversary. A small heart-shaped photo of us sits inches from my heart every day. Terry took a deep breath before he went into detail. About Shelby Springs and its corrupt law system. How he almost died on multiple occasions. Who Summer was and how he couldn’t leave her fate in their corrupt hands.
“I couldn’t leave until I knew I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life. I couldn’t involve you and potentially put you at risk. I’d never forgive myself if you were hurt, especially knowing what I know now,” the guilt evident in Terry’s voice as he buried his head in his hands.
I feel the warmth of the tears as they glide down my face. My hand comes up to cover my mouth to stifle a sob. I rush to Terry’s side, wrapping my arms around him.
“I’m so sorry Terry! You shouldn’t have had to deal with this all on your own. What can I do?”
This whole situation is miscommunication at its finest. I grab Terry’s hand and lead him back to the room we used to share.
“I didn’t bring you back here to have sex. Take your shoes and shirt off and get on the bed.” I say kicking my shoes off. I crawl to the head of the bed and make myself comfortable before making grabby hands at Terry. He crawled his way up the bed before laying his head on my stomach. I started giving him a scalp massage as he loaded everything he’d gone through while we were apart. When he finished we were both a mess. Terry lifts his head and my heart breaks at his expression.
“I never wanted any of this. All I tried to do was save my cousin and instead, I lost him. I lost you, our baby. I’m alone now.”
I’m shaking my head before he can finish his sentence, “You didn’t lose Mike. In the physical sense yes but, he’s always with you Terry. I know it’s easier said than done, but you can put this behind you and move on. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get through this.”
“Together?” he looks like a scared sad little boy and it breaks my heart. I reach my hand down and caress his face.
“Together Terry, all three of us,” you say as a fresh wave of tears begins. You were going to dehydrate at this rate with all the crying.
“Come on, we’ve had a busy day and I think a shower would do us some good,” you say sitting up. Terry sits up and scoots to the foot of the bed. I look at him and really notice how tired he looks. Like the weight of the world is sitting on his shoulders.
I make my way towards him and kiss his cheek, “Come on, your clothes are right where you left them. I’ll be in the bathroom when you’re ready.”
I grab one of Terry’s old ‘Marine’ t-shirts and boy shorts and head into the bathroom. I can’t believe this shit, no way this is real life. Poor Mike, poor Terry, and even poor Summer.
I’m in the shower washing the dirt and leaves out of my hair when I hear the bathroom door open. I keep quiet continuing to wash my hair waiting for Terry to join me. I feel the cool air as he opens the shower door and steps inside. His arms wrap around my waist from behind and he rests his head on my shoulder.
“I’m so sorry Gwen. You’re not unlovable. Loving you is the easiest thing in the world. I couldn’t come back unless I knew you were safe. I’ll be making this right for the rest of my life to you and our little bean,” Terry says as his hand migrates to my stomach.
I turn in his arms wrapping my hands around his neck, “I’m not going to pretend that I’m ok with how you did everything but, I understand. I forgive you, Terry. I did as soon as you burst through the hospital door,” I finish with a chuckle.
Terry grips my face in his hands, “I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving to you and the baby how sorry I am. I wasn’t there when you found out and you have no idea how bad I wish I were. Every doctor’s appointment I’m there, you’ll never feel how you felt when you got that letter, Gwen. That’s a promise.” Terry’s eyes have that fierce determination in them. You know when he gets that way there’s no stopping him.
“Stop crying baby, I hate seeing you so upset,” Terry’s using his thumbs to wipe my tears.
I shake my head, a watery laugh leaving my lips, “It’s hormones more than anything.” My eyes widen as Terry drops to his knees in the shower. His hands wrap around my hips. He presses his forehead to my belly and kisses the barely-there baby bump.
“Hey there little one. I’m your dad. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to find out about you. I’m here now. Daddy’s not going anywhere.”
I could barely see Terry over the tears in my eyes. A watery smile forms on my lips when Terry lifts his head to look at me.
“What is it, baby?” he asks.
“Kiss me,” I say pulling him up to meet me.
Terry towers over me pressing my back against the shower wall—nothing but steam and unspoken confessions hanging in the air.
“Are you sure, princess? I don’t want to do anything you’re not ready for”, Terry’s face takes on that deep frown that’s so attractive to me.
“I’m sure Terry. You’re still in the doghouse but, that doesn’t change how I feel about you. I love you and I want us to be a family, so yes please kiss me.”
When Terry kisses me it’s like the world stops. An involuntary moan leaves my lips. It’s like we have all the time in the world. He kisses me slowly, deeply, all-consuming.
“I forgot how good your lips feel, princess.” Terry’s eyes darken in color and I can almost read his mind.
“I’m going to kiss you again ok?”, a small smirk makes its way onto his face as he crowds my space.
“You’re not leaving any room for Jesus are you?” I ask chuckling.
“There’s been too much space between us the past three months. Prepare to be sick of me, baby girl.” Terry’s voice drops an octave and I can feel my ovaries crying. His hand glides down my front pausing over my barely-there baby bump.
“We’re going to be great parents,” I reach my hand for Terry’s face caressing his cheek.
He smiles that megawatt smile of his and nods, “Without a doubt.” And then he kisses me again. We’re a mess of lips, tongues, and teeth. My pregnancy hormones have me grinding against Terry’s leg like a dog in heat.
“You missed Daddy huh?”, he asks placing his thigh in between my legs. He grabs my hips and slides me up and down the length of his thigh. The friction on my neglected clit is out of this world as I release a needy moan.
“I can’t hear you. Do I need to stop?” Terry grips my hips forcing me to stop.
“No, no, no I miss you, Daddy! I do. Please don’t stop. I need this,” I grip his shoulders, leaving little crescent indents.
“Look at me, sweet girl. Tell Daddy what you want,” Terry says gripping my chin and lifting it to meet his eyes.
I can barely put two words together and he wants me to tell him what I want.
“I love it when your eyes get all dopey like this, you want Daddy inside you?” Terry’s lapping at my neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks. I’ll have a time with my concealer in the morning but that’s not my concern at the moment. I reach for his wrist, bringing his hand down to my pussy, right where I want him.
“Please Daddy I need you. I need this please,” my voice taking on a whiny pitch. Next thing I know the water’s being shut off and Terry’s opening the shower door.
“There are things I want to do to you that can’t be done in the shower. Come on,” Terry says while wrapping me up in a towel before leading me out of the bathroom.
“Ugh! Daddy don’t stop please!” My legs won’t stop shaking as Terry sucks the soul out of me. I lost count of how many times I’ve come already. I look down at Terry while he’s devouring my pussy. The sounds in this room are purely pornographic.
He looks up at me through hooded eyes and moans the sound vibrating against my clit.
“Ouuu Daddy yes!! Right there! Don’t stop!”, I’m a panting mess. I look down at Terry again and all I see are the whites of his eyes.
“I forgot how good you taste baby. I can’t get enough mm!” You’d think Terry never ate a day in his life the way he’s eating me out.
“Terry I… I need you!” I squeal pushing his head away.
He releases my clit with a small pop before sitting up on his knees. His eyes narrowed, “Now I’ll let you have that one ‘cause it’s been so long. Don’t do that shit again. I’ll finish eating when I finish. Understand?” Terry has my face in a vice-grip, my lips puckered.
“Yes Daddy,” I say, willing to do whatever he asks as long as he gives me that dick. I’d probably go rob a bank if he asked.
“On your side, princess,” Terry says as he places a few pillows behind me.
I turn on my side and Terry’s right behind me kissing any skin he can get his hands on.
“Fuck, I missed this. I missed your smell, your taste, your smile, your laugh, and even when you roll your eyes. Even though you know that’s five lashes automatically,” Terry says peppering my whole body in kisses.
“I missed you too Daddy. Now are you going to show me how much, or do I have to get started without you?” I tease him by running my hands down my body. Terry playfully smacks my hands away before lifting my leg and sliding into me.
We moan simultaneously as Terry starts to move, “Oh god! I forgot how big you are!” I moan as Terry bottoms out.
My head falls back onto Terry’s shoulder, “I’m not going to last!” I squeal the burning already starting in my lower belly. It feels so good from this angle, Terry keeps hitting my g-spot with every thrust.
“Come whenever you want baby. Daddy’s got you,” Terry breathes into my ear. The neighbors can probably hear squelching and moaning coming from my room but I really don’t give a fuck. If their man was digging their shit out like Terry was doing to me, they’d be screaming too.
“No! Come with me please! I need it baby!” I moan trying to plant a kiss somewhere on Terry. He sees me struggling and bends his head to kiss me. He grabs my neck with one of is free hands, not hard enough to do harm but, just enough to give me that much more pleasure.
“Open,” he says stilling inside me. I lean my head back a little farther, opening my mouth. Terry smiles deviously like the freaky devil he is and I watched dazed as a small glob of spit makes its way from his mouth to mine.
“Now swallow,” I do as he asks and open my mouth to show him it’s all gone.
“Jesus, woman you’re going to kill me! Fucking love how nasty you get for me. Daddy’s little slut,” Terry groans. He slides out of me and I flop onto my back.
“Come to mama,” I say grabbing his face and pulling him in for another sloppy kiss. I reach for his dick, wrapping my hands around it, and I feel him shudder. Terry moans as I give him a few slow strokes.
“Get back inside me please. I need to come,” I wine.
“Again? Who made you so needy?” Terry asks smirking down at me.
“You going to keep talking shit or remind me of how I got pregnant in the first place?” I ask.
Terry grabs my throat almost instantly, “Who you think you’re talking to?”
He brings one of my legs up to his shoulder and I roll my eyes. Terry’s face darkens, as he bottoms out inside me for the second time.
“I told you I was going to let that shit slide. Now you pushing it,” he said as he begins to thrust. I’m grasping at air, that’s how good his dick is.
“Aww look at you, getting fucked stupid. How’s it feel princess?” Terry taunts grabbing one of my hands interlocking our fingers. If I could talk I probably say something smart, but Terry’s right he’s fucking me stupid. I can’t put a single sentence together.
“Huh what was that? Daddy can’t hear you.” A particularly hard thrust has me screaming, my orgasm hitting me out of nowhere. I feel myself soak the sheet and Terry, but I can barely keep my eyes open. My nails drag down his back, marking him up.
“Fuck baby I’m cumming, kiss me,” Terry moans.
I grab the back of his neck, bringing his face to mine, but before our lips meet I whisper a quiet ‘I love you��. Our lips meet and we both moan as Terry fills me up. He stays inside me as I remove my leg from his shoulder. Both of us panting and staring at each other with awestruck goofy smiles. We have some work to do, but I can’t wait to see what this next chapter has in store for us.
THE END.
Annnnd that’s a wrap!! As always constructive criticism is appreciated but please be nice ‘cause I’m sensitive. I feel like I'm so bad at writing sex scenes, but I'm trying to get better. I really had fun writing this one. I anyone has any request DM me or ask anonymously. Until next time my little freaks <3
TAGLIST:
@blackgurlnhermoods
@dxddykenn
@kianaleani
@pinkkycherrish
@shallipii
@greatpandagladiator
@skyesthebomb
@theereina
Divider from: @puppizai
#rebel ridge fanfiction#terry richmond#terry richmond fanfiction#terry richmond smut#terry richmond x reader#terry richmond x black reader
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₊˚﹒✶﹒trolls headcanons .ᐟ
brozone, creek & king trollex with a reader going through a breakdown, overthinking and panicking and how they deal with them.
note ; I somehow(?) accidentally deleted the person's ask for this. I don't remember exactly what they asked word for word. (I'm down on my knees apologizing to you rn, I'm so sorry anon 🙏) so hopefully based on my memory this is at least close to what you asked for. I also hope this headcanon is to your liking.
☆★﹒🎧 ﹐BROZONE
John Dory
erm. well. let's just say when it comes to dealing with other people's emotions, he's not really the best guy to depend on...
BUT considering he spent years by himself (and rhonda) with no other socialization, plus leaving his brothers behind and coming back to them after awhile out of conscious but seeing them nowhere to be found, he definitely felt lonely and HAD his own breakdowns before.
so he'd understand how you're feeling, or at least try to understand.
when he first saw you breaking down, his first instinct was to ask you questions "why are you breaking down?" "did something happen?"
if he doesn't get a reply from you, he'll respect your boundaries and not ask any further questions. he'll just focus on comforting you in the present, awkwardly patting your back and giving you words of affirmation that he thinks would work. like those motivational phrases or quotes online, maybe even those ones that facebook moms use.
if you do give a reply, he'll sit down next to you and hear you out. sipping a drink and lending his ears for you to vent. he'll keep quiet (internally, he's restraining himself from outing his own opinions on whatever you vented to him about).
In summary, he's a listener. If you let him voice his own opinions, he'll tell you his thoughts and views. more often than not, if he does give advice, it's probably best you don't actually follow them. I feel like he's bad at giving advice...
at least, he's got the spirit!
Spruce/Bruce
this troll has a wife and kids. I'm sure he's knowledgeable in comforting someone when they are breaking down or overthinks a lot.
if you're overthinking, he'll support you and keep you company but he's also honest that helps you actually evaluate your overthinking thoughts and not stress too much about them.
once you come to him looking vulnerable, he'll immediately try to soothe you by rubbing your back gently. yk like those back rubs that puts babies to sleep? yeah, he'll do that.
while he rubs your back, he urges you to take a deep breath and let it all out. so you do. unknowingly you ranted and ranted, every little detail spoken word to word. he just has that affect on people.
lets you know that what you're going through is valid.
once you're all done, he'll give you advice to ease you or if you're not looking for advice, he'll just comfort you until you feel better.
Clay
he literally is in a sad book club, he'll have the knowledge about it and how to deal with it. except...he's slightly bad at executing it.
he'll snap you out of overthinking by yelling positive stuff to you, that are actually...effective???
if you rant to him, he'll listen to you attentively and pat your head afterwards. it's just something natural that he does, honestly head pats are soothing ok.
if you're okay with physical touch, he'll caress your face while giving you actually reassuring words. (LIKE. have you SEEN him literally pinching and squishing branch's face when he first met him after 20 years?!) of course, it's effective, combined with his already nice vibe (I feel like he naturally has a healing presence, he's just a sweet little boring cutie)
his method of comforting you naturally makes you feel better. he doesn't have to try hard because just watching his body language and mannerisms are dorky enough that it'll make you smile. he's unknowingly comforting in a silly dorky way. even with how badly he persists to be a very "serious" guy.
he'll definitely give you a big warm hug after everything.
Floyd
he's literally called the sensitive one. out of the brothers, he's definitely the one who understands you the most.
I don't think I even need to explain, you already know how perfect he is with dealing with stuff like that. like the time he talked to veneer about how his sister treats him and how he shouldn't let her be like that to him.
his face is full of worry if he sees you in a vulnerable state.
he literally gives the best hugs, it's canon, I know it's canon.
this emo mf knows exactly the right words to get you out of your vulnerable state for a while (bc the phrases he gives to others are probably what he wants to hear given to him).
he'll be really patient with you and help you with every step along the way even if you're having a hard time changing your bad traits.
he's also attentive at listening, he'll caress your hands with his thumb with a reassuring smile.
he'll be really sweet at tackling your situation and never makes you feel overwhelmed.
will cry with you tbh.
he's kind of helping himself when he helps you, because he's similar in a way.
Branch
branch was quite the panicker himself during the times when bergens ate trolls.
so he'd also know how to help you deal with it because he understands you.
he had to figure it out himself and was mostly alone to deal with his own vulnerability so he's happy to help you.
he'll look calm, composed and collected externally but even he, himself is slightly panicking on the inside. afraid that he'll let you down or he won't be of much help. don't worry though, he has it all put together after a bit.
If you're panicking, he'll help you focus, calm down and ease your hyperventilation.
"concentrate on your breathing, okay?"
once you've calmed down, he'll provide you with reassuring words.
he'll keep you company and stay with you until you feel composed enough to talk about it with him. he'll lend you an ear.
afterwards, he pats you on the shoulder and gives you advice that worked on him before.
━━━━━━━━━━
Creek
as bad as he is, he's literally the best when it comes to relaxation. he has that zen-like wisdom, so he'll calm you down and help you relax if you're panicking or overthinking too much.
just like floyd, he also knows exactly what to say to reassure or cheer someone up.
he'll give you a more positive outlook on whatever happened to you so that you don't overthink it.
tbh his voice itself is enough to calm you down.
he encourages different methods and ways(that he knows of) to you that could help.
King Trollex
this sweet goober offers you all his emotional support.
he feels upset, if you're upset. he's all frowny when he sees you vulnerable.
"can I give you a hug?" ofc he asks for consent.
will hug you tightly (he thinks hugs are a remedy for everything, besides music), quiet sobs are heard as his face is smooshed against your chest. just like bruce, he'll also rub your back soothingly while hugging you.
Intertwines both of your hands and encourages you to put your thoughts into words so that he knows what's going on that head of yours that's overthinking a lot of stuff.
keeps eye contact with you as you rant to him.
"you can get through this." he'll say with his cute smile.
the most he can provide is listening and comfort. he wishes he could help you more.
#trolls world tour#dreamworks trolls#trolls band together#trolls 2#trolls 3#dreamwork trolls#trolls x reader#trolls world tour x reader#trolls band together x reader#brozone#trolls brozone#brozone x reader#john dory x reader#spruce x reader#bruce x reader#clay x reader#floyd x reader#branch x reader#creek x reader#trollex x reader#king trollex#x reader
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Just Dance It Off
→ Summary: You're over the moon when you land the female lead in the end-of-semester show. It feels like your hard work has finally paid off, everything is going great. Well, until you learn who your partner is…
↠ jimin x f.reader | 9.5k words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, angst, fluff, ballet dancers au, enemies to lovers, performing arts college au
→ Warnings: explicit and unprotected sex, jealousy, masturbation, alcohol consumption, underage drinking, use of fake ID, mild exhibitionism, creampie, hair pulling, angry sex, nipple play, degradation, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, multiple smut scenes, heavy teasing & banter, edging, orgasm denial, light choking
→ Author Note: This is a rewrite of an old 2019 fic of mine, so I hope you enjoy the newest version! If you’d like to read this on ao3 instead it’s been crossposted here! Also a biiiiiiig thank you so Sarah @caelesjjk for beta editing this for me. Go show her some love if you aren't already following her! As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3
“Oh, no,” you hear one of the dancers behind you whisper to another, “Look who’s walking in.”
Your curiosity gets the best of you as you casually stretch, your eyes betraying you by glancing over your shoulder toward the door, dying to see who they’re talking about. You recognize him almost immediately and the whispers continue to grow about the slender male who is walking across the room to set his stuff down.
Park Jimin.
Of course, he would be auditioning for this show. It’s his final semester, and you really should have seen this coming. Especially since you knew he was bound to get whatever position he was auditioning for. That’s a given.
Park Jimin always gets whatever he wants in life; whether that be a specific role in a performance, who his performance partners are both on the stage…and in the bedroom, that sort of thing. He’s the most pretentious person you’ve ever met, seeing as he acts like he is God’s gift to the dance world, and you’re already dreading any interaction you’ll have with him.
Rumor has it that his daddy, former dancer and sponsor, paid his way into Juilliard, but as much as you hate to admit it, he (unfortunately) happens to be very talented and you doubt the school didn’t already have something lined up for him, regardless of who his family is. Unlike you, who was on the waitlist for two months and had to take out a loan worth more than your life to attend this school.
Your eyes meet his and Jimin does a once-over before moving onto the people to your left. What a prick.
“Y/N!” a voice yells from the entryway. Your familiar, freckled, redheaded best friend is quickly prancing towards you.
“I’m so happy to see you here,” Catalina squeals before hugging you tightly. “What part are you auditioning for? Please tell me it’s lead. God, I miss you. It sucks that we don’t have any classes together this semester. How are you?”
You hug your petite friend back, “I miss you too! Please tell me that you’re not also auditioning for lead, I don’t want to be judged against you. Your pirouettes are perfect compared to my lousy ones.”
Her laugh echoes through the room. “Apparently you didn’t hear about my recent tumble,” she jokes, bumping her shoulder into yours. “I’ll gladly be in the background after my solo-gone-wrong.”
“Alright, everyone!” One of the male judges calls out, walking past the lineup of dancers to collect everyone’s entry form. “We’ll start with the routine you were required to memorize as a group, and then it will be individual evaluations after. Make sure your numbers are secured and let’s line up outside the door.”
After taking your place and getting into position with the rest of the packed room, you wait for the cue to begin. The routine is short and simple, and years of practice have made some of the required moves second nature.
Before you know it, the judges are escorting people out the door for the individual sessions.
You're about twentieth in line, right behind Cat. That makes you a bit nervous because, even though she’s not auditioning for the lead role, her impressive skills might land her a more prominent part than the one she’s aiming for.
Everyone else is quietly chatting in line while you do your best to relax, working through your routine in your mind. This is one of your pre-audition rituals. It always helps with easing your nerves.
By the time you finish running through a couple of full-outs in your head, you’re second in line. You wish Cat good luck as she’s ushered into the dance studio. Her five minutes go by almost too quickly, but she exits with a happy smile.
“Hey, good luck! Kill it, okay?”
You nod, quickly following after the woman who calls your name next.
“Miss Y/N, it says here that you’re auditioning for the female lead. As a sophomore?” Mr. Jenson, one of your dance professors and judge, questions. You prepared for this. It’s very uncommon for an underclassman to try out for such a prestigious role.
“Yes, sir. That’s correct.” You hold your head high.
“Well, I have to say I’m quite impressed with your confidence. Whenever you’re ready.”
You wait for the familiar beginning notes of Tchaikovsky’s Waltz Of The Flowers to play before flying effortlessly through your well-practiced routine. You’re banking on the emotional state of your dancing along with the technical moves you’ve included to impress the judges, and based on their faces when you finish, you figure you did just that. You can’t help but grin widely as you watch the four of them scribble furiously onto the sheets of paper. That’s a really good sign.
“I have to say, I was a little thrown off in the beginning by your song choice since it’s so, hmm, how do I say this, so amateur. But I was very surprised by what you chose to express and the level at which you dance,” the first judge says.
“Yes, the lines you created with your body were very exquisite,” another praises.
You nodded, taking in their advice and criticism.
“Thank you, Miss Y/N, you may exit.” Mr. Jenson says with a smile.
As soon as you step out the door and exhale, you feel a sense of relief. The excitement of your successful audition courses through you, filling you with good energy.
You find Cat stretching in the warm-up room next door.
“Oh my god, you got it. Didn’t you?” She squeals the second she sees your face.
“I don’t know…” You have a pretty good idea based on their responses and comments but aren’t positive.
“Oh, please,” she rolls her eyes, “That’s your ’I just nailed my audition’ face. You totally got it.”
“I hope so. God, wouldn’t that be so insane? When was the last time an underclassman got the lead?”
Someone behind you scoffs; you look over your shoulder and see that it’s Jimin. Your eyes narrow at him, but Cat turns you back before you go off on him. “Not worth it, the rest of us seniors think it’s great that you’re trying for a top spot. How about we go get a drink from the vending machine while we wait?”
You nod before grabbing your warm-up bag and follow her out. “I can’t believe him. He’s so stuck up,” You grumble once you’re far enough away that no one but Cat can hear you.
“He’s always like that, just be thankful that you don’t share any classes with him.”
You’ve heard that Jimin is usually the center of attention in class, whether it’s his choice or not, so you can’t imagine being stuck in one with him. It sounds like it would be impossible to get good feedback if the teachers only care about him.
After you both buy the drinks that you want, you head back. The line is smaller but it will still be at least a half-hour until everyone has had their turn. You sigh impatiently and head back into the warm-up room.
Deciding to sit along the mirrored wall, you rummage through your bag to find a pair of headphones and put your favorite playlist on shuffle while you wait. Even though it feels like half the day goes by while you’re sitting there waiting, it’s really only been about an hour.
Everyone’s attention lands on Madam Jamie, one of the contemporary dance professors, when she asks everyone to re-enter the audition room.
“Okay,” she starts once everyone gets in line, “Those whose numbers I am about to call, please step forward. Dancers eleven, one fifty-three, one forty-seven, seventeen, thirty-eight, twenty-two, and one ten.”
Cat gives you a concerned look as she steps forward without you.
“Seventy-two, fifteen, sixty-eight, thirty, thirty-four, eighty-two, one twenty-one–” you step forward and sigh in relief once she spoke your number. Tuning out the rest of the numbers called, you smile at Cat as she reaches for your hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.
“Everyone else, I’m sorry to inform you that you have not been selected. Thank you for your time,” She finishes, resting her clipboard against her chest.
Those who didn’t make the cut are escorted out as Mr. Jenson stands up to make an announcement.
“I have everyone’s part listed here,” He shakes the paper in his hand. “It’ll be left on this table for you all to look over. However, I want to first congratulate you all. We are excited to have this much talent for the semester’s exhibition show. We have some great things planned and cannot wait to get started with you all. Please take note of our rehearsal schedule. Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Eight to noon. Most of you should not have conflicting schedules as all dance classes are held in the afternoon anyway, although if you do have a problem just stay after and we can work it out. Madam Jamie and I will see you back here Monday morning. Dismissed.”
You and Cat both wait until more people clear out of the room before you have the guts to read the paper.
Catalina Wilde - Corps de ballet
Your eyes wander across the page as you search for your name.
Y/N - Lead Female Soloist
Turning towards each other, you squeal “Oh my god,” at the same time.
“I can’t believe it. We both got what we wanted,” you excitedly rush out.
“I know, this never happens. Oh, I’m so excited!” She reaches for your hand and squeezes it again, picking up the paper with her other hand.
“Oh, no.” She turns the paper towards you, “Look who your partner is.”
Park Jimin - Lead Male Soloist
You huff, “Of course, I’m not surprised.” You turn your head and search the mostly-empty room for him. You have a feeling he’s still here, it’s like you can sense his presence.
“Cat! You coming?” the group of dancers near the door asks.
“Shoot, I’ve got to head to my next session. I’ll see you later, okay?” Cat says, giving you a quick hug as she runs out the door.
Leaving just you and Jimin.
Deciding to let go of your prejudice against Jimin, you figure the best move would be to congratulate him on getting the part he auditioned for.
He watches blankly from the mirrored wall as you walk towards him.
Once in front of him, you stick your hand out. “Hey congrats, I’m looking forward to–” you begin before he rudely cuts you off by holding up his hand.
“Yeah, whatever,” he sneers, “We need to take this extremely seriously so I expect you to be at our rehearsals an hour early so we can get in extra time,” he looks you over again, “From what I can tell you’re gonna need it.”
“Also,” apparently he isn’t finished, “I expect that you’ll be taking care of your diet from here on out since I’m going to be lifting you and I don’t want my arms to give out, or worse, snap.”
“Well, you can always go to the gym and work on that yourself,” you say defensively. What a jerk.
“So can you, sweetheart.”
“Uh, wow. Okay…” Here you are trying to congratulate him and here he is treating you like dirt. “Guess the rumors are true,” you mutter as you shift your duffel strap further up your shoulder, turning to leave.
“Excuse me?” Well, shit. He wasn’t supposed to hear that part. You look him in the eyes without showing any regret for your previous statement.
His eyes narrow at you, clearly not liking your RBF, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Sorry.” However, you aren’t.
“You know,” he remarks, “I don’t care about what you’ve heard about me or what you think about me. I care if you’re going to be too immature for this role and if that’s the case I’ll have no trouble replacing you.” He follows you out the audition room.
Oh boy, you’re pissed now. You turn around and get right in his face.
“What the fuck? In case you haven’t noticed, you aren’t in charge here. Just because you’re a senior and I’m a sophomore doesn’t make you any better than me,” you bark while shoving a finger in his chest.
“Secondly, I don’t need to believe the rumors because you’ve just proven them to be true. You’re an ass to all of your partners to the point that they don’t want to dance with you so you can,” you lift up your hands to finger quote this next part, “Pick who you think is good enough.”
You scoff, “Well, here’s a fun fact dickwad. I’m not going anywhere. The judges chose me and I fully intend on dancing as the female lead in the show. So get the fuck over yourself ‘cause you’re about to be seeing a lot of me in these next few months. Got it?“
"Fine,” he huffs, pushing past you.
“Fine!” you snap, turning away from him and heading towards your next class. Now that you're thoroughly annoyed and not in the mood for your next class, which happens to be a two-hour lecture on the history of interpretive dance, you sigh and get moving before you’re late.
The first two weeks of ‘rehearsals’ are spent training, just at a higher level than you’re used to. However, you hide it well. You’ve been making sure to keep up with the upperclassmen because you know that you are, unfortunately, replaceable if Madam Jamie or Mr. Jenson deems it necessary.
It doesn’t matter that your thighs feel like they are on fire, or that your calves might be ripping at every bend and arch you make. You’re going to complete the one hundred pliés just like everyone else without a single complaint.
Jimin must have taken your last conversation to heart, or he’s exceptionally good at masking his feelings if your words bothered him, because he’s been an excellent partner all week. Although, you know you aren’t going to grow a typical relationship with him as you did with all of the other partners you have had over the years. You’ve been friends, good friends, even, with your previous partners, something you know is never going to happen with Jimin.
He doesn’t do small talk. He really doesn’t have much to say at all other than pointing out when you are making a mistake. No good comments, nor praise–not that you’re expecting any–but it would have been nice to hear him say that he is impressed with how well you’re keeping up with him.
It’s Friday of the second week, which means that it’s the last day of the training period aka hell week, thankfully. You’re dying to get started on learning the actual program. You aren’t looking forward to Jimin’s request of showing up an hour earlier than everyone else this next week, but even though you hate to admit it, the extra time will end up benefiting you.
Today also happens to be the day the choreographer is coming in. You’ve heard the whispers throughout the school this week, everyone trying to guess who it’s going to be.
And after seeing who Madam Jamie walks into the studio with, you’re so happy to see that they were all wrong.
“O-oh my–ohmygod,” you bumble and did a double-take. It couldn’t be, could it?
The brown curls hung gorgeously on the tall man’s head and you internally drool at how much better looking he is in person. He’s so tan, so fit, so delicious–
“Can you concentrate?” Jimin grumbles in annoyance, pulling you out of your slightly inappropriate thoughts. You’re doing partner stretches, which does require some level of focus, but not enough that you have to look away from the literal Italian God who stood a mere six feet away. “What’s your deal anyway? We’re supposed to be preparing our muscles for the toughest training session yet and you’re over there stuttering like a fool.”
You scoff at him and lower your voice, “Don’t you know who that is?”
Jimin rolls his eyes. “Does it look like I care?” He mutters, pushing the backside of your thigh towards your torso.
“You can’t be serious,” you exasperate. “That’s Luca Black! You know, one of the most famous choreographers in the dance world right now. I can’t believe you don’t see how big of a deal this is.”
“The only thing I care about right now is making sure your hamstrings are loose so you don’t kick me in the face when we’re dancing.”
Now there’s an idea…
“Alright, everyone! Front and center please,” Mr. Jenson announces as he walks in the door, right on time as usual.
“Dancers, I would like you to meet Mr. Black, your choreographer. I expect you all to treat him with the same level of respect that you give me and Madam Jamie.”
“Oh please,” Mr. Black says, stepping forward, “You can all call me Luca.” His smile hits the heart of every girl in the class, and even a few of the guys. “I am looking forward to working with you all to make this performance one to remember. Can we get into a lineup to start?”
Everyone moves into the typical sequence based on each person’s position of where they belong. Which meant that you and Jimin were dead center with Luca’s eyes right on you.
You swallow slowly when he walks towards the two of you. “You must be Y/N. Mr. Jenson has told me quite a lot about you. I have to say, I am most excited to work with a dancer like you.”
Jimin is perplexed that Luca went straight to you. If anything, he’s the better dancer here and he doesn’t quite understand why a sophomore is getting so much attention. He’s nearly sick to his stomach listening to the nauseating conversation that you two are having.
“It’s an honor to have you working with us Mr. Black,” you say in awe as you shake his hand.
“Luca,” he corrects before lifting your hand to kiss it, “And the pleasure is most definitely all mine.”
“Sorry,” you pant, rushing through the door. “I know I’m a couple of minutes late. I couldn’t find parking. Why is it so freaking busy? It’s barely seven.”
“Don’t let it happen again,” Jimin says ignoring your question. You bite your tongue and get straight into your morning stretches.
“What do you want to work on today?” you ask, knowing what he is going to say after you’re warmed up. For the past three weeks, you and Jimin have been dedicating extra time to perfecting scene two's Pas De Deux.
It’s the only section of this scene where you’re both completely alone on stage and Jimin is dead-set on making it nothing less than perfect. He reasons that just because you are the only two people on stage doesn’t mean that the audience’s attention is a given, you need to earn it.
Which is a very on-brand thing for Jimin to say.
“Do you really need to ask?” He snickers with a playful smile plastered to his face.
“Nevermind then,” you banter back, joining him as he finishes stretching.
You’ve surprisingly gotten pretty comfortable with Jimin after spending more time with him. Dancing with him is mostly fun, besides when he calls you out on your mistakes…repeatedly. But even then, you know he tries to mean well. You both have to be the best or the other will end up looking like a fool–which (you assume) neither of you want to happen.
Knowing that you’re almost halfway through the semester is a little terrifying. All the dancers have been making great progress and everything is coming together seamlessly, but you can’t help but feel the nervousness set in.
You take a deep breath and clear your thoughts, getting nervous right now will do you no good. Thankfully, when you start dancing your mind settles and you’re able to concentrate on your performance.
Well, that is, until Jimin drops you during the lift. You might have understood the mistake if he hadn’t done it three times prior.
“Get up.” He holds his hand out for you, pulling you to your feet. “We need to get this number down, you know how important it is.”
“I’m aware of that,” you hiss. “But it would be nice if you weren’t letting me fall every two seconds.” You rub your aching side and stretch to see if that helps ease the pain.
“Just dance it off, you’ll be fine.” Jimin walks over to his stuff along the wall, before bending down to grab his water bottle.
You scowl. “Stop being ridiculous and hold me properly. I don’t have teeth anywhere down there,” you say motioning to the space between your legs. “You can put your hand where it belongs without worry, you know.”
Jimin blushes as soon as he hears your words, he turns away quickly before you notice. Yes, it’s technically his fault that you keep falling. It isn’t intentional, but he can’t help it. Especially when he can feel the warmth of your center from where his hand is resting when he goes in for the lift.
The thought of other parts of him being this close to your heat is driving him crazy and yeah, he may have faltered, which yeah, may have caused you to crash down once…twice. Okay, maybe three times. Or four?
It doesn’t matter. He’s so hyper-focused on why he’s thinking about you like this at all. You’re attractive, he already knew that. But this new-found thought of wanting to take you hard and fast, right here in the studio is something else. It comes from deep within, and he can’t decide if he wants to squash the idea completely or let it lead to something wild.
Jimin shakes his head, trying to get rid of those thoughts just long enough for you to both get through these next ten minutes before the rest of the crew arrives for rehearsal. “Alright, let’s go again.”
You get into position, Jimin falling behind you. You try to hold still but his breath tickles your neck while you wait for the music cue.
The motions are practically natural to you at this point, and you take a deep breath, preparing yourself in case you fall again.
You rapidly suck in air when you feel Jimin’s fingers press deep into your inner thigh this time as he lifts you. They are incredibly close, much closer than they were last time.
You won’t ever admit to it, but your mind is overflowing with dirty thoughts of Jimin’s fingers somewhere else. Particularly somewhere that would have you writhing within seconds.
Those thoughts are distracting, and you’re late for your cue to jump down. And somehow instead of jumping, your body twists around in a weird way as your head dives down toward the ground below you. Tensing, you brace for the impact that doesn’t come.
Unexpectedly, Jimin manages to catch you before any damage happens, and he quickly pulls you up, as if you were never upside down to begin with. His arms are wrapped right below your butt, causing your head to be directly above his. How on earth it got there, you have no idea.
But you aren’t questioning it. Adrenaline runs wild through your body, and you cling to him as if your life depends on it. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck, scared that you still might fall somehow.
Your faces are only a few inches apart in this position, which allows you to see how soft and smooth Jimin’s lips look. You slowly lick yours as he lowers you down to the ground, keeping the same amount of distance, or lack thereof, between you two. The realization that it would be so easy to kiss him right now has set in and you swear Jimin has the same mad thoughts; especially when he’s gripping your hips this tightly.
What you both don’t realize is that outside of the main doors, the rest of the dancers are watching with wide eyes and shocked faces. If it weren't for the unmistakable red hair you see in the mirror's reflection, who knows what might have happened? You don’t think about it, instead, you pull away and play it off before heading toward your bag to grab a drink.
“Morning everyone! What are we all waiting for?” Luca says from behind the dancers, “Let’s go in and get warmed up.”
He opens the door and sees you and Jimin at opposite ends of the room, each taking big gulps from your water bottles. Interesting…
Cat walks in and sets her stuff down next to Jimin’s and silently watches him. His face is flushed but she can’t tell if it was because of the intense moment you two just shared, or from the strain of the lifting sequence. She was the first to notice the look you two shared before the crowd outside the door, and she has a weird feeling about it.
Last she knew you were still fighting with Jimin during your pre-practices, although she’s very aware of the saying ’there’s a fine line between love and hate’. Cat makes a mental note to ask you about this morning’s situation later.
The first half of practice is weird, to say the least. Jimin is treating you like nothing happened. And while technically nothing happened, something almost did and you don’t know how you felt about the something.
Needless to say, you aren’t on top of your dance game today. It’s hard to concentrate with your head filled with empty-answered questions and even more confusion.
“Okay, everyone,” Luca echoes, stealing every dancer’s attention, “Let’s take five. When we reconvene we’ll do a recap of Scenes One through Three with no breaks. If we can get it down we’ll move onto the beginning of Scene Four today.”
You and Jimin happily turn in opposite directions, grateful for some space.
“Y/N, can you stay back? There’s something I want to go over with you,” Luca calls out, stopping you from heading in the direction of Cat and some of the other girls.
Oh no. That’s never a good sign.
“Don’t worry, you’re not doing anything wrong,” he says after seeing your smile falter. “I just see a little room for improvement with the last sequence before the song changes in scene three.”
He gestures for you to get into position in front of him, which you do without hesitation.
Luca moves closer to you and rests a hand on your lower back, “Tighten here and stretch.” He shows you how to position your body to make it look more elegant and elongated. “See how much longer you look now?” His eyes meet yours in the mirror. “Hold yourself like this through the rest of the dance. Trust me when I say you’ll notice a difference. So will everyone else.”
A blush creeps up your neck when his hand slides across your hip before he steps away from you, “Thank you for the tip.”
His eyes burn into yours, and you feel the heat growing in your lower stomach. “Anytime, Y/N.” His lips turned into a small smile, which you returned.
Jimin stalks silently as Luca touches you, his anger bubbling deep down inside him. Fuck, he doesn’t exactly want you, but he definitely doesn’t want anyone else to have you either. And he sure as hell doesn’t want Luca touching you like that or giving you those looks; looks that have disguised intentions with ulterior motives behind them.
He wants to tell Luca where to go and how to get there, but he knows better. Not only would it be unprofessional as hell, but Jimin would probably be screwed out of a lot of future events if he tells one of the best choreographers to fuck off.
He forces himself to look away and takes another deep breath, calming down a little before part two of rehearsals starts.
The second half of rehearsals ends sooner than expected, and Jimin storms off before you even have the chance to talk to him about this morning. You sigh, your eyes trailing his fast exit.
“Y/N! I’m heading to the vending machine for a granola bar, want to come with me?” Cat asks. You’re sure that her question has a hidden agenda too, but you go along with it anyway since you’re starving and need to eat something small before your next class.
“Sure, just give me a second to switch out of my pointe shoes.” You don’t like to wear yours for walking since they’re new and still stiff.
“So,” Catalina begins, watching you put the money into the machine. “What was that this morning? And don’t you dare try to say it was just dancing, because I’ve seen 'just dancing’ with Jimin and that was not at all what I saw earlier.”
You groan internally, not wanting to deal with her interrogation. Cat isn’t the type to judge you if you told her that you would’ve fucked Jimin right then if it wasn’t for the fact that you noticed her (and the rest of the dancers). But you don’t want to admit it to yourself.
Saying it and thinking it are two very different things, and you aren’t sure you can come to terms with saying that you want to fuck Jimin. Hell, you have no idea if you will feel the same way in an hour. So you choose to keep it to yourself for now.
“Did something happen between you two?” she asks bluntly.
“No, nothing happened between us.”
“And is that a good or bad thing?” she questions next.
“Good,” you huff, “I think…”
It’s been another busy few weeks, and things have been going great…until today. To be honest, this is probably the worst dance day you’ve had in years.
“I’m sorry guys, let’s start from the top,” you apologize again for messing up. The scene you’re going over today isn’t complicated by any means, it’s only a transition scene. But your head is elsewhere which, in turn, makes you mess up every couple of seconds.
You're not getting many approving looks from the room. Luca is a little worried, Madam Jamie has pursed lips, and the dancers are severely annoyed with you.
“No, Miss Y/N. Stop before you hurt yourself.” Mr. Jenson lets out a frustrated sigh. “Kyra, would you stand in for Y/N and show her how it’s properly done?”
You’re embarrassed that it’s gotten to this point. What is with you? You’ve done this sequence perfectly with Jimin this past week, hundreds of times at least. Now with the extra dancers on the floor, you seem to be forgetting it all.
Taking soft, shallow breaths is the only thing keeping you from crying in front of everyone. But they wouldn’t notice. All eyes are glued to Kyra, a senior who had also auditioned for the same role as you, as she dances with Jimin.
They dance beautifully, you can’t deny it, even if you want to. You can’t help but wonder if she would’ve been the better choice for the female lead.
“Thank you, Kyra. Everyone back into position now.”
Kyra walks past you and smirks. You know she’s thinking the same thing that you are. She probably also thinks that she’s capable of sweeping in and stealing your position. Like hell if you’re going to let that happen.
Even so, it’s not your decision to make and you know if you keep screwing this up it’s more than likely to happen.
“Hey, are you okay? What’s your deal?” Jimin whispers once he lines up with you again. The last thing you need is for him to make you feel worse for fucking up.
“I don’t know, it’s not a good day for me,” you whisper back as your eyes fill with tears. You’re completely exhausted, defeated, and disappointed.
“Just dance it off, we all get days like this. Follow my lead, okay? I promise I won’t let you mess up again.”
You nod, blinking back your tears. This is a different side of Jimin than you’re used to. He’s caring and knows exactly what to say to make you feel better.
After shaking off the earlier mishaps, you get yourself together and push through practice, making sure that the first official run-through of the program is a total success. It makes you feel a hell of a lot better than two hours earlier. You can tell that the rest of the group is just as ecstatic as you and Jimin are.
“That was great, Y/N!” he says, pulling you into a comforting hug. “See, all you needed was a little reassurance.”
You’re slightly sad when he pulls back, the warmth of his body is no longer felt. “Thank you for today. I would’ve completely fallen apart without you.”
“Hey don’t worry about it, make sure you get some rest this weekend. See you Monday!” He smiles softly and waves bye. Who knew Jimin had more to him than what everyone else saw?
“Hey, Y/N!”
You turn your head and see Madison, one of the upperclassmen who’s also in the show, walking toward you.
“What are you doing tonight? Some of the girls and I are planning on going out to celebrate our first successful run-through of the show. We’re wondering if you’d like to come?” She leans in a little closer, “We have a fake you can use to get into our favorite club, Wander. We’d love for you to let loose with us.”
Usually, you would turn down any interaction that involves alcohol, especially since you’re underage, but you don’t want to disappoint your potential new friends. Plus it does sound like a lot of fun, and after the practice you just had, you deserve to let loose and relax.
“Yeah, totally! I’d love to come.” Madison smiles and you both trade numbers.
“Okay cool, I’ll text you my address later. We’re gonna get ready at mine before we head out. See you later!” She gives you a quick hug before heading out the door.
You’re secretly excited to hang out with the older girls since you don’t have many other friends in your year. Especially not now with all your free time taken up by rehearsals.
Jimin stands outside the dance studio’s side door, slyly eavesdropping. He makes a mental note to accidentally run into you later. He isn’t sure what’s gotten into him, but he doesn’t want to go without seeing you for two days.
You intrigue him, and after your almost-kiss, Jimin wants to know what your lips feel like for real this time, not just what he has been imagining.
“What can I get you?” the bartender asks over the pounding music. You have no idea what to ask for; you obviously don’t drink and ordering something from the bar is a little out of your comfort zone since you don’t know what you’re doing.
Madison catches on and takes over. “Five shots of tequila for our group!” she yells while leaning over the bartop so he can hear her.
Oh boy, you don’t know much but you know enough to feel safe assuming tonight will be wild if you’re starting with shots, of all things.
With about a month left until the show, deciding to let loose with the girls is exactly the kind of break you need. Dancing, drinks, and good friends. Looking around, you’re happy to see that you have all three. It’s all a part of tonight’s plan.
What you don’t plan for, however, is seeing Jimin in the middle of the dance floor with Kyra all over him. After practice today, this is a total slap in the face.
You aren’t sure if the progress you’ve been making with Jimin is just one-sided, or if you had been imagining it this whole time. It feels like you’re both taking two steps forward in the right direction and then something like this will happen, sending you ten steps back.
Your eyes are glued to Kyra’s body as she dances with him, her hips moving at the perfect speed. You can’t help but be jealous of her. Not only is she gorgeous and a great dancer, but she also has a way of demanding everyone’s attention in any room she graces. Although, there’s only one person’s attention you want right now, and from what it looks like, you doubt you’ll be getting his anytime soon.
“Oh my god, is that Luca?” Catalina asks with a surprised tone, pointing towards the opposite end of the bar, “No way, it can’t be.”
“It is,” you laugh nervously before looking away. You’re a little worried that he might remember that you’re under the legal drinking age, only by a year, but still. How embarrassing would it be for him to get you kicked out…
“That’ll be $42,” the bartender drones, pushing the over-spilling shot glasses toward your group and happily taking whichever girls’ fifty-dollar bill in return.
You lift your glass along with the others, “Here’s to letting go and having fun!”
The tequila burns the back of your throat but that doesn’t stop you from hollering, “Let’s go dance!”
You pull Madison and Catalina onto the dance floor, coming to an abrupt stop when your back collides with someone., “Oh my gosh, I am so sor–” You pause and stare at the dark-haired man, “Oh. Hi.”
“Hi ladies, I hope you’re not getting into too much trouble tonight,” Luca jokes with a wide smile displayed across his face. He looks gorgeous dressed in all black, the leather jacket tops off his outfit.
“Oh of course not, Mr. Black,” Catalina giggles playfully, “We’re all good girls here.”
He raises his eyebrow which makes each of you giggle, “I’m not so sure about that. Can I buy you all a drink? Or is that a little weird?”
You look around at the girls; they do the same.
“Uh, sure? Madison finally says, breaking up the awkward silence.
Cat and one of her friends entertain Luca’s conversation while they wait at the bar. You slyly peek over your shoulder while dancing, looking for you-know-who. You can’t find him, but you’re happy to see that Kyra has moved on to her next man of the night.
"Hey,” Luca says, walking towards you with an extra drink in hand. “Here you go. Shhh, it’s our little secret,” he says humorously.
You thank him for the drink, nervously swirling the ice with the slim black straw in your cup.
“I’m happy I ran into you,” he begins, “Can I talk to you for a second, alone?”
“Oh, uh, sure!” You nod to Cat, silently saying that you’ll catch up with her later. He smiles and pulls you aside from your friends.
“What’s up?” You ask tensely while Luca grins, running a hand through his hair.
“I just want to tell you how impressed I’ve been with your progress so far, I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you at rehearsals.”
Oh my god.
“Really?” You gape.
“Absolutely,” he reaches for your hand, bringing you closer to him before bending down to plant his lips on yours. You freeze as he kisses you gently, entirely unsure of what to do in that situation.
He quickly pulls back after reading your body language, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Luca,” you say curtly, taking a step back, “I appreciate your tips in class and kind comments, but I think we should keep things professional here. You’re the choreographer and I’m a student...”
“Of course, I apologize again. How about I walk you back to your friends and we forget this happened?”
“That would be perfect.” You’re thankful that things don’t seem too awkward, and you only hope things will stay that way when you see each other Monday morning.
Jimin’s fingernails dig into the flesh of his palms as he clenches his fists. Fucking Luca Black. He was heading your way to say hi, but Luca led you in a different direction than the one your friends are heading to. He should have known better, but he follows behind slowly. And what he sees when he finally turns the corner doesn’t sit right with him.
Luca’s hand on your cheek as the two of you kiss. Jimin isn’t exactly sure who initiated it. And even though it’s eating him alive, he doesn’t want to know because it pains him either way.
He watches as Luca pulls away, and takes note of your stunned face. Jimin wants to believe that was because you didn’t enjoy it. He can’t hear what you’re talking about, and he truly wants to believe that Luca is making you uncomfortable based on your reaction to the kiss. But that hopeful thought is squashed as soon as you smile and take Luca’s hand, allowing him to lead you to the dance floor.
Jimin is still trying to process what he just witnessed even though you’re both long gone. He steps out of the shadows and throws his drink at the wall, ignoring the sound of the glass breaking behind him. Grumbling under his breath, Jimin takes the closest exit and slams the club door behind him.
He heads home with the hopes that a cold shower will ease his rage, but the cool water running down his back isn’t doing much for his boiling blood, nor is it getting rid of the image of Luca’s lips on yours. And inevitably, he can’t get you out of his head either which in turn results in him masturbating to those thoughts of you … which is anything but calming.
Jimin closes his eyes and imagines that it’s him kissing you, not Luca, and that he’s the one who has you pushed up against the wall. He can practically hear your soft whimpers, the ones you make when you’re doing partner stretches that always have him close to losing it right there in front of everyone at rehearsals.
But it isn’t him who’s stretching with you. His length quivers in his hand as he speeds up, trying to change his thoughts to you aroused in the club bathroom, his hand sliding underneath your dress and slipping into your panties. Jimin throws his head back at the image of you getting all worked up, but once again, it isn’t him that’s driving you wild. It’s Luca.
After the fifth attempt and still failing to picture himself with you, Jimin gives up. He groans, looking down at his length’s angry red tip that’s aching for release. And there’s only one thing that will give him that. You.
But not an imaginary you. The real you. The real you wanting him just as much as he wants you. He doubts that you ever will, not when you can have Luca instead.
Meaning that Jimin is basically screwed.
Monday is a killer. Jimin has been hateful to you all morning, and you genuinely have no idea why. He seems to be fuming now at the end of rehearsals, compared to the quiet angry vibe he was giving off earlier this morning.
“Hey, great job today Y/n. You’re doing phenomenal. I can’t wait to see this all come to life next week. See you tomorrow!”
“Thanks! Yes, see you tomorrow Luca.” You wave bye while he rushes out of the room, leaving just you and Jimin behind.
Jimin waits until Luca is out of earshot before saying anything. He’s been annoyed all day by your and Luca’s behavior after witnessing the two of you making out in the hallway of Wander.
He’s disgusted, even more so by the afterthoughts of Luca bringing you back to his place and taking advantage of you. Needless to say, he didn’t sleep much this weekend.
“God, you’re such a suck-up,” he criticizes, failing to hold back his evil words. “How special do you think you’re going to feel when the paid help you’re boning doesn’t remember your name the second he moves on to the next school and finds a new student to seduce?”
“Excuse me?”
“You can pretend all you want but I saw you Friday night. With him.”
Oh god…
You shake your head, “Jimin, I can explain–”
“Whatever, waitlist. I don’t want to hear your excuses.” He turns around and internally grimaces, upsetting you isn’t what he was going for. He’s pissed and unfortunately, you’re the only person he can take it out on. It’s a dick move to say things like that, especially since you deserve to be here just as much as everyone else.
Jimin knows he should just let it go, but he can’t help it. It’s been eating him alive all day. He’s pissed that you’re acting like a damn fool because of Luca’s attention. Luca’s eyes hadn’t left your body the entire day.
Fucking perv.
Jimin is more pissed that it’s bothering him so much. He shouldn’t care, he doesn’t–or at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.
Jimin’s words stung, and you’re shaking out of pure anger. “What the fuck is your problem? I can handle the normal stick-up-your-ass behavior but it’s on a whole new level today. Chill out, okay? It isn’t what you think. Nothing happened after he kissed me. Not that it’s any of your goddamn business, but it actually made me, like, super uncomfortable and he apologized directly after. We both agreed it wasn’t professional, so piss off Jimin. And even if I did decide to take it further with Luca, it wouldn’t concern you. So stay out of it.” You’re near him when you finish, with crossed arms and eyes glaring.
It’s unbelievable Jimin would make such a comment; the last thing you need is for him to start telling people what he saw.
You know you would be harshly reprimanded for using a fake ID to get into a club, but also for accepting a drink from someone who is a teacher, and especially for kissing that same teacher.
Jimin is just as heated as you are. So his intuition was right that night. His anger only grows, wanting to punch Luca over and over again for making you uncomfortable like that. How could Luca not tell that you weren’t actually into him, but rather idolized him for his contributions to the dance world? How dare he use that against you to pull a move like that?
“Fine,” he growls in your face, totally furious at the situation, and furious with himself for caring this much about it–about you. You’re driving him crazy, even now when you’re pissed with him. It turns him on how strong and defensive you always are, and fuck, he wants to do something about it.
“Fine,” you snap back, taking another step forward as your eyes subconsciously lower to his parted mouth.
In a matter of milliseconds, your lips collide and your hands are all over each other’s bodies. He lifts you into his arms and slams your back into the mirrors. It’s a miracle that they don’t shatter from his force.
You gasp at the contact and Jimin takes the opportunity to shove his tongue further into your mouth. Your legs lock around his waist while you continue to explore each other’s mouths and bodies ravenously.
Jimin pulls away and tugs your leotard down your arms, freeing your breasts from the tight compression.
“You’re so fucking annoying, do you know that?” He snarls before leaving a line of rough kisses along your neck and down your chest. You whimper at the sensation and run your fingers through his hair.
“You’re so fucking loud, do you always have to say so much?” You moan in response.
Jimin is starved for your taste and can’t wait any longer. His hands travel down your side while his lips close over one of your soft peaks, sucking it in between his teeth.
You mewl, crashing your head back against the glass from the sheer amount of pleasure.
Jimin abruptly pulls away and brings his face back in front of yours. “What? Do you have something to say?” he asks with fire in his eyes. But with his lips replaced by his fingers, twisting and tugging, you’re helplessly tongue-tied.
He moves one hand lower and another soft moan escapes your lips, his middle finger dancing dangerously above your panties before dipping into your slickened folds.
Jimin knows exactly where and how to touch you, causing your head to spin. He feels himself hardening watching your face contort in pleasure, and nearly coming in his pants when you slowly lick your bottom lip, pulling it in between your teeth and letting out a long moan in the process.
“Mmm, Jimin,” you cry, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Jimin notices this and instantly pulls away. You don’t get to come that easily. Even though it makes him super fucking excited to see what his touch does to you. God, this is so much better than what he imagined.
You whimper at the loss of his touch, “What the fuck?”
“Turn around,” he demands, his eyes flooding with lust and a dash of something dark. He undresses you rather quickly, leaving your tights and leotard wrapped around your legs.
You decide you aren’t going to let him have all the fun, sneaking a hand back behind you. Jimin grits his teeth in pleasure as your hand slips into his pants. His length twitches in anticipation of feeling you wrapped around him. You pull his member out and lead him between your damp folds, moaning deliciously at the contact.
The scent of your arousal has now filled the room and Jimin can’t hold back any longer. He wants to fulfill his fantasy of taking you hard and fast, right here in front of the mirror. Without a warning he slams himself into you, causing you to lose your breath.
Your back is against him as he relentlessly pounds you from behind. The force of his thrusts are hard and you use your hands as leverage against the mirror to avoid being crushed by him, even though it would certainly be worth it.
Jimin brings a hand up around your neck and holds your head straight so he can watch when you come. You’re close and he knows just what to do.
“Say my name,” he demands, using his other hand to pinch your clit. “Look at me and say the name of the man who’s making you come like you never have before.”
“Jimin, oh my-” The waves of pleasure wash over your entire body, every inch of your skin tingles. You pulsate around him, but he’s not done with you yet.
“That’s damn right.” Jimin twists you around again, lifting you against the reflective glass. He keeps his fast pace, with a fistful of your hair held between his tightening fingers.
“You’re such a fucking slut. Look at you losing it over my cock,” he snarls with a clenched jaw, “I’m gonna fuck you like this until the rest of the class comes in.”
Jimin rams into you with twice the amount of force as before. “I’d make that fucking Italian bastard watch as I take you hard and make you feel this good.” He brings his lips up to your ear and whispers, “He could never,” before harshly biting your ear, sending you completely over the edge for a second time.
Jimin watches you unfold, your beauty completely mesmerizes him. Your entire body is on fire from oversensitivity while Jimin’s fingers rub your throbbing nub. You watch, completely hypnotized, as he brings his soaked fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean.
“Oh, don’t think we’re anywhere near done yet,” he smirks devilishly, moving his thumb back to your clit and rubbing in crude circles. Your eyes squeeze shut at the sensation, and you can’t catch your breath. It’s too much.
Jimin hisses when your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “Fuck, Y/N. You’re so tight right now.” It isn’t long after those words leave his lips that he’s shuddering inside of you, his release shooting into the depths of your heat.
Your insides coil as you reach the peak of your third and final orgasm. Jimin holds your legs steady as you come hard over his cock, and swallows your moans with his mouth.
He slowly retreats out of you and presses his flushed cheek against yours. You can feel his heartbeat thumping out of control while you both catch your breath.
After a moment, he draws back and lowers you to the ground. You both chuckle at the state of your appearance. “I think I have a towel in my bag, one sec.” He says while tucking himself back into his pants as you readjust your hair, trying to make the whole ’i just had sex’ look a little less obvious.
You’re still breathing heavily when he returns to wipe you clean.
“Mmm,” you hum in total satisfaction, and still a little out of it - if you had to be honest. “I should piss you off more often.”
He gives you a look, “Hurry up and get dressed before anyone sees you.”
You’re the one to smirk this time, “I thought you wanted people to see me?”
“Haha, very funny.”
“Hurry up, you’re taking too long,” you whine while Jimin attempts to undo his stage pants as fast as he can.
“I’m trying,” he mutters, silently praying when his zipper finally works, “There we go.”
He lines himself up to you and pushes into your center.
You bite your lip to avoid making any noises as he stretches you out. The two of you are in the small storage closet behind the stage; there’s only about an hour or two until the opening night show starts.
Jimin thought you had to be joking at first when you whispered how badly you needed him after you both were dressed and ready to warm up with the rest of the dancers. But much to his delight, you weren’t kidding.
Hopefully, they won’t notice your absence. Who are you kidding, they probably know that you two are fucking. Plus, it’s kind of obvious when both lead roles go 'missing’ at the same time.
At first, he was torn between following you into the tight space–wanting to be in another tight space–and doing what he normally would call the right thing, which was preparing for tonight. But after seeing the look on your face, Jimin was quick to follow you into the closet.
“Shhh, you need to stay quiet,” Jimin grunts quietly with a hand over your mouth, silencing your moans.
You grip his shoulders as he quickens his pace, bringing you both over the edge.
“Holy fuck,” he quietly whines, the sensation of your inner walls clenching his length is addicting. It isn’t long after your sweet release that he’s quivering. He pulls out, knowing you can’t dance with his release filling you. He shudders one last time, his come shoots out and onto the wooden floor below.
You giggle, “Good thing we’re in a place that can clean that up.” you say referencing his load.
He rolls his eyes at your joke and leans in to give you a quick kiss, “You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”
“Yes, typically.”
You flatten out your costume and zip each other up, leaving the closet one at a time. You first of course, since you needed to touch up your makeup now. Leaving Jimin behind to clean up his mess.
About fifteen minutes later you meet Jimin backstage to practice, stretch, and chat along with everyone else. The jitters are bouncing off of everyone and you can’t stand still from excitement, a little nervousness too. But mostly excitement.
“Jimin, are you feeling okay? You look a little stiff and tired if I must say…” Madam Jamie mentions after watching him practice a few scenes.
“Nothing to worry about Madam, had a tiring warm-up is all. Not to worry though, I am more than ready for tonight.”
Madam Jamie reminds him how important rest and lots of water are when practicing hard before moving along to the next student.
“Hmmm, what is it that you usually tell me?” You begin, giving him a coy look, “Oh right. 'Just dance it off.’ That should fix your issue, correct?” You look down at his crotch, and back up at him with a twinkle in your eyes.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he says, daring you to go on.
“After our vigorous warmup, I’m sure you do. But we’re going on stage soon. So suck it up, sweetie.”
He can’t wait to make you regret that statement when he teases you later tonight. He had big plans to celebrate. And knowing you, you would love them.
©shadowkoo 2024. All rights reserved.
#jimin fanfic#jimin oneshot#jimin smut#jimin x reader#jimin x you#bts fanfic#bts smut#jimin bts#park jimin#ksmutsociety#kvanity#shadowkoo#200
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I really wish I could eat your work! Everything is such a fine delicacy and every characters' internal thoughts and actions are such *chef's kiss*. Thank you for writing. It's always nice to see your notification on my phone!
Thank you!
Everything is Alright Pt 23
Soundwave x Reader, Starscream x Reader
• Helm moving with exaggerated slowness from Starscream down to the human cupped to his chassis, Soundwave vents. And that deliberate shift of attention as if to ask what he’s doing sends fury coursing through Starscream’s lines, his wings trembling fitfully despite the exhaustion of expending so much energy so quickly. But not so drained that he can’t remove Soundwave by force.
• That chaos drew him, the snarled tangle of your emotions echoing through Soundwave’s processor. Now that same confusion of thoughts snares him. You’re not hurt, just wet and shivering. And not his to worry over. But it’s still there as he stares at Starscream, evaluating if he can retrieve you without harming you. Starscream hunches forward, wings up and denta bared in threat. But not attacking for the same reason he can’t act. The human. Unwilling to risk you and it freezes him, because he shouldn’t care. Neither of them should.
• “Well? Didn’t you hear me?” Starscream snarls and you can feel that angry tremor under your fingers. That barely leashed rage. You’d thought he didn’t particularly care for Soundwave, but not anger is new. “Leave.” The sound of his turbines and weapons humming to life rumbles through your bones, sending your heart racing. He’s furious. Angrier than you’ve seen him yet and you can’t get why. Soundwave has let himself in before without this reaction.
• Weakness. Starscream can almost feel the evaluation in the other Decepticon. The knowledge that he’d been caught vulnerable and weak, that he’d put himself in that condition, only feeding his anger. Because it’ll be used against him. You’ll be used against him. It’s only a matter of time, but he’ll fight to keep this tiny bit of happiness. Even if he can’t win.
• But Soundwave doesn’t attack, the big mech making a low, tonal hum almost to himself and just leaving without a word. Wings sagging slightly, Starscream stares at the door. Why? Why not press the advantage and attack while he’s weak? Little hands curl around his servos and his optics shift to you in his grip. Staring up at him with worried, but trusting eyes. Looking to him for protection.
• What was that? For a terrifying moment you were sure they were about to fight right then. Starscream had seemed ready to, but Soundwave had just walked away. The seeker you can understand mostly. For all his bluster and bad temper, he’s lonely. It’s in the way he reaches for you, how his optics seek you out when he enters his quarters. And you understand that need. But Soundwave? He gives almost nothing away, the mask and visor making even reading an expression impossible. Why bring you things you might like? Why ask his cassettes to look after you?
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Android Boss x human! Worker
Prompt: Technology has taken over. Humans are now nearly obsolete. Both surprisingly and unsurprisingly, the world has become a much safer, healthier place. Most of the worlds main issues have been solved with robots now in control.
Androids are the highest tier of robots, they manage the big jobs. Corporate managers, bosses, governors and lawyers etc. humans are not required to work but are given jobs if they so desire.
Overall most people are happy. Except you of course, because no one said a clingy android was part of your job description.
——————-
“Worker B75C3 please report to the main office. I respeat, Worker B75C3 please report to the main office thank you.”
.
.
.
.
.
Ughhhhhhh
“What is it now Supervisor Bot?”
“B75! I told you to call me by my issued name!”
With a resigned sigh you cleared your throat.
“Right. What is it now Jessie?”
The Android, your boss, Jessie, beamed with his artificial teeth. It was almost obnoxious how happy he seemed just hearing you say his name.
To be fair you didn’t dislike the droid necessarily. Even though you did. He just made your job 10x harder than it should’ve been.
Calling you up nearly everyday for “a performance evaluation”, despite you being one of the best workers the company had to offer. That was human at least.
Purposefully bumping into you in the conference room, spilling coffee on your clothes so you had to get a new pair, never to see the old ones again.
Not to mention he was just so…realistic. And clingy. It unnerved you.
To be honest you were pretty sure it was his eyes that unnerved you the most though. Green, almost hazel eyes, that blinked regularly, naturally, darted around nervously under your gaze, and even dilated in the sun. They were too real.
It was gross.
Now, you wouldnt say you were a Android hater. (Except you were). You just found that making the bots look almost identical to humans was insane. The only way you can even tell that they weren’t human was their finger tips and tongues. Both of which had thin circular glowing plates, that served to simulate taste and sensations.
The tongue one was a newer upgrade. You weren’t sure why your boss had it.
An almost-human cough disrupted your staring, (glaring), and your eyes snapped to focus on Jessie, who’s own fake eyes lidded slightly at you, a wobbly, embarrassed grin strapped on his face. You couldnt help but notice he didn’t have his usual tie on.
He looked weirdly disheveled. His skin was just a bit too shiny, almost like sweat.
“The fucks wrong with you?”
“Language B75…”
You rolled your eyes and plopped down into, your seat, opposite of the androids desk.
“Cut the crap dude whyd you call me up here?”
Normally you wouldn’t be able to talk to a superior like this, but your “relationship” with Jessie was a special case.
He let you get away with pretty much anything at this point. Not that you used that power for more than a couple naps.
The bot looked like he was overheating with the way he was fidgeting about though. Avoiding eye contact half the time and staring right at you the rest.
“I was hoping you could humor me…on something..”
Not again.
“As you can see I recently got the new upgrade,” he wiggled his fingers for emphasis, showing off the currently dull finger sensors he now had. “And I was hoping you would let me…Test them out. On you..”
Realistically you should’ve been more put off by his request. But you’d unfortunately gotten used to the bots curiosities. He was a bit of a human fanatic. Always wanting to try these expiraments with you. Only you.
And realistically you should’ve declined too. Had he not also offered you a bonus.
“Fine whatever, get up. I wanna get this over with asap.”
“Really? I mean, of course! Right away!”
Jessie was terrible at hiding how eager he sounded. Not that he probably tried to hide it really.
With a peppy smile he shot out from his chair, and speedily skipped over to you. He stood infornt of you, hoisting you up from your seat, much to your own chagrin, and hovered anxiously for a moment or two.
His eyes darted all over your face. Maybe checking for any possible doubt or hesitance. Not that you cared though.
Getting very fed up with his stalling you thrusted your hands out and grabbed onto his own, forcing his hands to clasp firmly on.
“Hurry the fuck up.”
He didn’t bother scolding you this time.
You could see why. In your own mild disgust you watched as his receptors flowered a pretty blue, as his fingers tips rubbed over your knuckles and palm, crawling slowly up your wrist. He traced the lines of your palms, mapping them out like a fortune teller would in a shady carnival booth.
His hands circled and slid up your arms slowly, as if mapping out each new texture or scar. He paused at the underside of your wrist, pressing down slightly on the joint and eliciting a brief exhale as he felt your pulse drum lightly beneath his sensors.
Jessie shuddered for a moment at the sensation before moving on.
He took his time. Too much time in your opinion as you felt your back begin to hurt from standing for so long.
“Are you done yet? My backs killing me.”
His green eyes snapped to you so fast you almost got vertigo.
“Why does your back hurt?” His voice was breathy and low, and his eyes lacked their usual warmth for a second. Though you chose to believe you were imaging that.
“Gee it’s not like I sit at a desk all day with no proper back support.” Irritation dripped from your tongue like poison into Jessie’s ears, his fingers locking slightly before he relaxed with a sweet, nervous smile.
“…I’m a trained masseuse you know…if you want I could..try and relieve some of the pain? Free of charge obviously..haha.” His awkward, antsy tone left the joke to fall flat though you didn’t mind much, too excited about the prospect of getting some pain relief, even if it was from a creep like Jessie.
“Say less.” You meant that literally. Yanking your arms from his stunned metal ones you plopped down back into your chair, sat reverse and leaned your front into the cushiony back.
You missed the blue that soaked his eyes for a moment, a warning that went ignored by your mechanical boss.
With a excited exhale, Jessie rolled up his sleeves and stepped forward. His hands hovered hesitantly above your shoulders for a very brief moment, before finally descending with a firm pressure deliciously against your spine.
You groaned pleasantly, eyes screwing up slightly at the relief on your poor back, ignorant to the borderline short circuiting bot who twitched and panted at the indirect-direct contact.
His skilled fingers worked slowly at first. Sticking to a specific part of your back before venturing else where. He relished in your groans, and the fact that it was him making you feel good. Him. Not your stupid coworker. Or the assistant bot. Or that delivery boy who he sees you sometimes talking to and wishes he could just-
“Ah! Dude not so hard?!” Your barking paused his frenzied “massage”, if it could even be called that.
“Sorry! I’m so sorry B75, I just…”
The wobbly grin that appeared on his soft features was definitely cause for concern.
“I can’t really hit the right pressure points, through your clothes…is it okay if you..lower your shirt..slightly?”
“What? Yeah fine whatever just don’t pull that shit again.”
Holyshit you actually agreed
Jessies “breathing” quickly became erratic at the sight of your bare shoulders and back, face burning in a blue hue, and his pupils dilating violently before he twitched and fell to the floor.
You jumped at the loud crashing sound, bolting up with a readjustment of your shirt before staring down at the spasming bot in disbelief
You nudged his leg with your foot before sighing exasperatedly and walking over to the intercom.
“Maintenance in the Main office , building code 772E. Code 772E, Maintenance in the Main office. Thank you.”
The speaker buzzed, confirming they were sending someone up, and you took an extra moment to gaze at the android slapped over the floor.
You scoffed.
“Damn bag of bolts.”
——————————
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Everyone does a day where they pretend Sephiroth doesn’t exist. How does it go?
The 'Sephiroth Doesn't Exist' Prank
• Zack thinks Sephiroth doesn't have fun and isn't included in enough silliness, so to combat this he has the idea to get everyone in on what he thinks is his best prank yet: pretending Sephiroth doesn't exist. This will end badly.
*Sephiroth approaches Genesis and Angeal*
Sephiroth: Hello.
Angeal: You know what would be nice, Gen? If we had a third friend.
Genesis: Agreed. We make a good duo, but sometimes it gets lonely.
Sephiroth: I'm standing right here.
Angeal: Do you hear something, Genesis?
Genesis: I don't believe I do.
Sephiroth: Have I don't something to upset you?
Genesis: Actually, I think I hear a cat somewhere.
Sephiroth:
*Lazard walks in*
Sephiroth: Good morning, director.
Lazard: Good morning, Genesis. Good morning, Angeal.
Sephiroth: !?
Lazard: So it's just the two of you here today?
Sephiroth: Are you unable to count?
Angeal: Yeah, Zack was supposed to be here but he's busy with a patrol assignment. Go ahead and brief us on the mission.
Lazard: Of course, since it's a very delicate operation that requires both of our First Class SOLDIERs. Since we only have two.
Sephiroth: .....When did I get demoted....? *opens his email to check*
Genesis: It's a shame there's only two of us. The program could really benefit from a third First Class SOLDIER. It's unfortunate that it's such a difficult position to achieve.
Sephiroth: I was the one who recommended you for First. Without me you wouldn't even be here.
Genesis: Do you gentlemen hear something?
Sephiroth: Your envy and petty jealousy are undesirable character traits that showcase your insecurities, therefore making you unlikeable and arrogant, which people gossip about behind your back. You would know this if you actually turned around for once instead of keeping your nose in the air, as if searching for the scent of success like a starved dog.
Genesis: ......
Sephiroth: Did you hear that?
Genesis: ......
*Sephiroth flicks Genesis' ear*
Genesis, fighting back tears: ......
Lazard: Anyway, I was wondering if either of you wanted room #14, as it will be evacuated shortly.
Sephiroth: But room #14 is my office—wait, I understand exactly what's going on.
Sephiroth: I've perished and the lifestream has failed to take me, making me a ghost and therefore freeing me of all responsibilities I previously had under Shinra's command.
Sephiroth: ......no, it's too good to be true.
*Zack walks in*
Zack: Hey, guys! Sorry I'm late, but I was actually in Professor Hojo's lab.
Angeal: Why??
Zack: Oh, he evaluated my physical condition and combat abilities, and then decided that I'm the perfect specimen and will now obsessively take over my life.
*Sephiroth stands up*
Sephiroth: I'M FREE.
*Sephiroth kicks his chair over, throws the stack if reports on the floor and walks over to the glass door, where he proceeds to shatter it with a forceful kick before cartwheeling away*
Angeal: Well that was a—Genesis stop crying—well that was a bad idea.
Zack: No it wasn't! See how happy he was? This prank totally brightened up his day!
*Genesis, Angeal and Zack are standing around when Tseng rushes up to them*
Tseng: We're in the middle of an emergency. Someone has murdered Professor Hojo and no one can locate Sephiroth. Where is he??
Zack: Oh....yeah, we played a prank on him by ignoring him, and now he thinks he's dead.
Tseng: Do you really expect me to believe Sephiroth would fall for one of your pranks?
*Sephiroth appears holding his bloody sword, wearing comfortable clothes, carrying a pet cat, and dragging a suitcase with a Costa Del Sol travel brochure in hand*
Tseng: Sephiroth?? What is the meaning of this??
Sephiroth:
Sephiroth: Which one of you bastards resuscitated me?
#ff7#ffvii#final fantasy 7#sephiroth#final fantasy vii#ffvii crisis core#genesis rhapsodos#ff7 crisis core#angeal hewley#zack fair#crisis core#tseng#lazard deusericus#soldier pranks
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