#i'm just over here in my silly little laptop

[tellmeallaboutit]

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 2, In Which You Meet A Tall Dark Stranger 

Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Careful which mods you install for BG3. Did you read the terms and conditions carefully?

TAGS: meta romance, psychological horror, smut, the character is the player, Raphael is after you, you wanted him, you invited him to our world, he accepted your invitation

RATING: explicit

AO3

Chapter 2

The next day, during your lunch break, you made another attempt to persuade Raphael to take his clothes off. The clock struck noon; your private laptop was on the right side of your desk, while your work laptop was on the left, Teams open and your mouse ready to show signs of activity from time to time.

The sun was shining through the wide open window, children playing outside. Idyllic. Nothing sinister could be happening in broad daylight with those happy sounds in the background. The horror movies told you so. Except for Midsommar.

Well, screw Midsommar, then. This isn’t Sweden.

"All right, I'm going to set some ground rules here," you said to the loading screen. "I can be as creepy as I want to be to you, because you're just a bunch of pixels, but you can't do anything creepy to me, because I'm a human being. Got that? Good."

The sound of your voice made you feel braver.

As you heard the familiar sinister 'you-let-the-villain-win-bad-player' music in the background, you covered your eyes with your hands and peered through splayed fingers.

Then he appeared. Just as you had wished. Perfectly naked, with a stereotypical video game six-pack and just the right amount of body hair. The orange lighting made his skin glow, and his flaccid penis, like that of the game's generic male model, vanished from sight as he strode closer.

Your ears pricked up to listen to the scripted monologue you knew by heart, watching (waiting?) for any hiccups or new animations, the YouTube app on your phone playing the identical scene for comparison.

Everything happened exactly as it should, word for word, save for the speaker’s nudity.

All good. You breathed a sigh of relief and spread your fingers wider to admire Raphael a little better. 

Same as always. Handsome and charming and completely imaginary, which, now that you thought about it, was the biggest part of his charm. 

"Ta-ta... for now," Raphael's signature line echoed through the room.

"Bravo, Raphael," you praised the screen. "You've done nothing creepy. You have earned your title of Archdevil Supreme."

After waiting for a response that never came, you laughed off your silliness and shook your head. Your laptop was overheating, giving off a slight synthetic smell. Should have upgraded a long time ago. Just need to put enough money aside.

"OK, screenshots," you said. "I wanted to take some screenshots. Do you mind, Raphael? Can I have your consent? They’ll help recruit more followers for you, my liege."

Your phone vibrated. The FaceID gave you a preview of the Discord messages from Queen-of-the-Bored, one of the few Raphaelites you'd actually spoken to directly and felt like you kinda sorta knew.

queen-of-the-bored: ngl that was some really funny joke, we spent the whole night trying to recreate it :-D queen-of-the-bored: you sounded legit worried over that voice message tho haha you: it was legit. check the reddit thread queen-of-the-bored: which thread

Ok, let me google that for you. You typed in the same search words as yesterday, "Raphael naked mod April prank," clicked on the thread from yesterday, and skimmed through the comments.

“nah not joking there is this naked mod for teenage mutant ninja""

“all dongs appeared MASSIVE on April’s first”

Scrolling further, you realized that was not the correct Raphael - it's Raphael the Turtle, not Raphael the Devil. Why was there so much NSFW content about him? What did people see in turtles?

You quickly corrected your search to "Raphael BG3 naked mod April prank," but it didn’t bring back any relevant results. So, you changed it to "last twenty four hours" just to be thorough.

Didn’t help. Nothing. You were the only to be called a naughty little mouse. The special one.

queen-of-the-bored: which thread dude??? you: my bad it was the turtle queen-of-the-bored: ??? queen-of-the-bored: I am slowly getting worried about you haha

Next step? Contact the mod developer directly? What if they have no idea what you're talking about?

Then what? What were the alternative theories? You've been hacked and doxxed to madness for that one Twitter post that got people waving pitchforks at you? 

There you go, you were scared again. Daytime, sun shining and children playing outside, but there you were, alone in your flat, scared again.

You took a deep breath and looked at the screen. "All right, I understand, Mr Archdevil Supreme. No screenshots. I'll uninstall the mod and I apologise for my disrespectful behaviour."

You couldn't bear to see Raphael's face on the screen again so you hit ctrl alt delete instead of Escape and stared blankly at the Task Manager.

Next, you uninstalled the mod that had caused all this trouble. Then you went to Tumblr and removed the reblog of Raphael in a cat playsuit with the tag "my poor miau miau". Then you deleted your bookmarks on AO3. Your Twitter account was beyond repair, so you deleted it altogether.

None of these actions made you feel any better. You grabbed a quick cup of shrimp noodles, but eating it only made you feel worse. As you tasted the sodium on your tongue, you came to a realisation: what you needed was to go the fuck outside.

You had been stuck in your flat and home office since the start of the pandemic, chronically online. Online work, online colleagues, online friends, who was the last real person you saw, talked to and hugged?

Your mum, probably. 

Oh yes, no wonder you were going mad. You need to get out there and meet some real people. You opened Discord, quickly scrolled past the sketch of Tav giving Raphael head, and typed a message: you needed to touch grass.

queen-of-the-bored: well there is Comic-Con this weekend  you: this is NOT touching grass, this is burning it queen-of-the-bored: true you: besides not going alone queen-of-the-bored: maybe Raph will keep you company 😈 

What? Such a strange thing to say. Or was it? Who the hell was that behind the screen anyway? Apparently someone called Sammy from Ohio. Supposedly. Wasn’t she the one who recommended this mod?

She was.

Come on, you're just letting your paranoia get the best of you.

queen-of-the-bored: oh BTW I found THE hottest Raph smut  queen-of-the-bored: mind the tags it's so hot but soooooo fucked up queen-of-the-bored: just read it trust me thank me later

Who the hell were you, Sammy from Ohio, Korilla? You put the phone down and started pacing around your small flat. It was not much to pace around, only forty-two square meters. 

At least you rent a flat in a building with other people and not some house at the edge of the forest. Strangers live below you, above you and on either side of you. They don't know you and you don't know them... but they were there, just in case...

Just in case.

"You know what?" you said to your computer. "I need a break. I need to focus on my mental health. Self-care, Raphael. I'm not playing with you. For now".

The moment you finished speaking, your phone lit up again with another notification. This time it was an email. You made a mental note to start managing your notifications better.

Did you enjoy your Devil Dick © - Natural Red experience? We know you will be back for more 😈 Check out the new...

What the fuck? Oh no, no, click away and make a mental note to never order from Bad Dragon again with customer satisfaction emails like this. It's borderline harassment. You ordered from them ONCE, as a joke, just to see what ridges might feel like.

Not as good as the smut had promised you,

Private. Private stuff. Between you and your bed drawer. Between you and your browser. God, how much stuff you have in your browser history. You should have used incognito mode more often.

Would that have helped? 

"That was low, Raphael," you muttered. "Or is it Haarlep today?"

You glanced around your room before angling your computer screen towards the wall, then retrieved the Devil Dick © from its hideaway in your bedside drawer. Your fingers grazed over the silicon ridges as you swiftly stashed it away in a box beneath the bed.

"If you must know, it was too big for me. Flattered?"

Crawling out from under the dusty bed, you looked up and realized for the first time that anyone in the building could easily peep into the flat if they tried hard enough or cared enough to do so.

Enough is enough.

You need to hydrate, you need to eat some vegetables, you need to start jogging again and you definitely... you definitely need to go out and talk to some real people. Maybe it's time to get back on Bumble and try your luck again. Who knows, it might actually work this time.

He wouldn't like that.

Where did that thought just come from? He wouldn't like it, who the hell cares what some imaginary devil thinks.

Standing up straight, you pointed a finger at the screen in front of you.

"Raphael, just so we are clear, you and I: I really like you. I do PR for you every day for free. You don't have to scare me to get my attention. You should appreciate me and be nice to me. I'm the best agent you'll ever have.”

Having made your point, you put on your running shoes and AirPods. It brought back memories of all the times you had jogged through the nearby park. Afterwards you'd sit on the bench and eat an ice-cream, watching couples, happy and glowing, watching families with children, happy and stressed, watching people living their lives in a reality parallel to yours, and then you'd come home and go into a reality parallel to theirs.

The AirPods picked up right where they left off last time.

I want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart, as I whisper in your ear

I wanna fucking tear you apart

You removed the AirPods from your earlobes and exhaled. This wasn’t Raphael's fault. This is She Wants Revenge, you have listened to it a thousand times. You knew the lyrics, they hadn't changed. 

You can't even listen to music anymore. Pull yourself together. 

Get some vitamins from the pharmacy.

Touch some goddamn grass.

***

You stuck to your digital and physical diet until the weekend, and as a reward, nothing happened. No oddly timed emails, no strange messages, no random phone calls. Maybe it was your pitch talk or the vitamins you started taking, but either way, Raphael was on his best behavior, and so were you. 

No Tumblr, no AO3. Didn't even touch Steam. Got into a highbrow podcast about the Roman Empire.

You set a new personal record for days without 'self-indulgence', as Raphael would put it, although that wasn't really the intention. Something always seemed to interrupt - whether it was the loud hum of the fridge (which was always obnoxious) or the flickering light in the hallway (which had been broken for over a week). 

By Friday, you had finally finished the work projects you had been putting off for months. The job wasn't too bad, but it hadn't been any fun for years, if it ever had been. You did the bare minimum to get the paycheck and keep the job, and your employer kept the paycheck at the bare minimum to keep you. If there was anything else you could do, you would do something else.

Still, this was probably the most productive week you had in years. You scrubbed your flat from top to bottom twice and cleared your wardrobe of clothes that no longer fit.

You were proud of yourself.

Gradually your sense of security began to return. You tried not to dwell too much on the incident with the naughty little mouse; if you didn't think about it, it almost felt like it hadn't happened.

On Friday, you plucked up the courage to play BG3 again, wandered through Baldur's Gate, avoiding the House of Hope for the time being, had a few fights, played the graveyard scene with Astarion (daring, but a small part of you hoped it would make Raphael jealous enough to come out again), and shut it down. 

Nothing out of the ordinary.

You hadn't planned to go to Comic-Con. For one thing, it was on the other side of the city, in the business district of the convention centre, so it would take at least an hour to get there. Secondly, going alone just felt... weird.

It was not until Friday night that a little voice in your head started to whisper, "Why not? Maybe you'll meet some like-minded people”. Make some friends you can actually touch (not in a creepy way). 

It's a better chance than endlessly swiping on Bumble.

Maybe you'll meet...

Neil Newbon. If you can get past the hordes of fangirls. Andrew Wincott. No, Andrew Wincott wouldn't be there; you'd checked beforehand. To be honest, hearing his voice might have been too much for your psyche at that moment.

So you decided to go. You went, and it was as fun as you had imagined it would be - that is, hardly any. The convention hall was huge and crowded, rows and rows of stalls, crowds and crowds of people. Live panel discussions, cosplayers, flashing lights, bright colors, chatter, laughter, very loud, very lively.

Raphael wouldn't last a minute in that chaos.

"Hell is other people," you thought to yourself, quoting Sartre. If you ever met Raphael, you'd quote Sartre to him too. He must know that you read intelligent books and not just fanfiction. 

Some people might be comfortable going to events and eating alone in restaurants, but not you. It's even worse being the odd one out in a group of odd ones. How come all the others had someone to take along? Where did they find all those people in this godforsaken city?

You talked to a few people and a few people talked to you. Nothing really took off. Your mind was elsewhere, to be fair. You were looking for something in the crowd. 

Someone.

It was absurd, yes, but so was what happened this week with the mod. You had met a few Raphael cosplayers, three at least, but they were...

Well, of course they weren't him. But they did a great job with the clothes and the hair and the make-up, and one had really great prosthetic horns, and you touched them and admired them and praised that particular Raphael for all his hard work in creating them.

They were real people, not video game characters that had come to life, and neither were you. You looked down at your jeans, at your thighs, and thought you should start jogging again, and felt even less comfortable in your own skin. 

Then Neil Newbon came along and things quickly became too chaotic for you.

You decided to take a break and walked down the street until you came across a cosy café - none of that generic chain stuff, but something that tried hard to be authentic with pretty flowers in the windows.

Sitting alone at a table for two, you looked down at your phone and opened the Discord chat because you came here to talk to some real people.

In the main chat, there was a heated debate about whether devils are allowed to torture mortals into signing contracts. Both sides presented arguments based on lore, edition contradictions, past precedents and personal conviction. 

A man's voice interrupted you as you typed your own very elaborated opinion of hellish law. "Excuse me, may I?" he asked, his words slightly muffled by the AirPods.

"Sure," you replied with practiced friendliness, not even looking up. That was always your default answer. It's not like you can say no to this kind of request anyway. 

People ask and do a lot of things out of politeness. That was precisely why you took the AirPods out of your ears.

The moment you lifted your eyes to meet the man's, you learned the true meaning of the word 'jumpscare'. Your body jerked upwards, the table shook and the coffee cup tumbled - narrowly missing Raphael.

Raphael. 

Not a man who looked like Raphael, not a man who was dressed like him - Raphael. 

You weren't sure if you made any sound or uttered any words. You probably yelped.

What you did do for sure was gawk.

His skin tone identical; hair slicked back just right; eyes uncannily accurate in hue and shape - down to every wrinkle. A perfectly realistic rendering. Not the uncanny valley type, no, perfectly believable. This is exactly what he would look like if he were real and swapped his fantasy clothes for a business suit.

So this is what it feels like to go completely insane.

Very banal, actually. You are having a psychotic breakdown and no one is even looking at you, except for an imaginary devil.

"Oh my, my apologies," Raphael said as he quickly grabbed napkins to mop up the spreading lake of coffee on the table. "I did not mean to scare you."

Oh, but he did, very much. You could not breathe, your chest encased in an iron brace of fear. It's you who needs to apologise, and apologise fast, and apologise a lot, and beg for mercy. Especially for liking the Twitter art of him being spit-roasted between Yurgir and Haarlep. 

If you only knew... you would never have clicked on it... absolutely never... all those posts you wrote... 

"Raphael?" you managed to squeak out. “I didn’t mean it, I swear.”

This must be how a deer feels in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

He looked at you, very sincere confusion etched across his handsome face. "Excuse me?"

You drew in a shaky breath, your nostrils flaring as you tried to catch a whiff of cherries under the aroma of fresh coffee, not caring how absurd you appeared. Yes? No? Or was that strawberry jam on his croissant? Have your senses gone haywire? Your mind certainly has.

"You're... you're here to cosplay Raphael?" 

The thought tumbled out of your mouth before it had time to fully form in your head. It was the only explanation that made sense... It didn't, but it made more sense than all the others put together.

Raphael moved closer, pulled up a chair and asked, amused: "I beg your pardon, I'm here to do what to whom?"

The voice. The voice was the same. Andrew Wincott's voice. The man had simply stolen his voice. Or had the man stolen it from him? The movements, the mannerisms, the facial expressions. This man could not be Raphael because...

Well, because this man was real. As real as you were. 

"Raphael," you explained. "From the video game. Are you here to cosplay... to play... Raphael?"

The man gave you a look as if questioning your sanity, and rightfully so. You were also sweating bullets - could he see the damp patches under your hoodie? You pressed your arms against your sides; wouldn't want him noticing.

"I'm hardly an actor," Raphael replied with a polite smile, "although there was a time in my youth when I entertained such ambitions."

He chuckled lightly and took a leisurely sip of his coffee. 

"I'm here to enjoy my espresso, nothing more. I... have never been particularly fond of..." he added with the disdain of a typical middle-aged man, "... video games.”

You had no response for that because Raphael wouldn't be into video games either; that much was believable.

"My office is across the street," he said, pointing towards the office complex opposite you. "Precisely there."

The golden sign on the building across from you, Kirkland & Ellis, told you nothing, except that Raphael had an office job and an office space and a desk and all the things that the devil shouldn’t have because the devil invented them to torture the others.

Raphael was dressed like he had just stepped out of a board meeting. A three-piece slate gray tailored suit, white shirt peeking out from underneath, silk tie and matching pocket square. Of all the modern Raphael AUs, you preferred the Professor one, you voted for it, you had Sucharide’s fic bookmarked. The Professor was more, ugh...

Safe.

As for you, you were wearing a hoodie with your university on it. A clean hoodie, but a hoodie nonetheless. What the hell else would you be wearing to Comic Con? You didn't do your hair. Well, putting it in a ponytail is not doing your hair. Why did you not do your hair? 

"I know, I know, you must be wondering why anyone would toil on a weekend," Raphael continued. That was the last thing you were wondering. "Alas, no rest for the wicked."

"Wicked?" you echoed. You looked at the people in the cafe, sure they were staring at the both of you, but they weren't.

"Oh," he chuckled lightly, "it's just an expression – 'No rest for the wicked.' You've never heard it before?"

"Of course I have," you said, momentarily embarrassed. "Never mind...sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Raphael raised his eyebrows. "In fact, I should be the one to apologise for startling you. May I offer you another cup of... ah, what was that... cappuccino? After twelve? Tsk-tsk, young lady".

Not a single modern man could ever manage to say the words "tsk-tsk, young lady" as charmingly. That was Raphael.

"No bother, I can get one myself," you said quickly, about to stand up. 

He raised his hand slightly and put it down to halt your movement, and for a second you thought he was going to touch you, and if he had, if you had felt the skin of his skin, he would have felt more real and you would have died on the spot from a bursting heart.

"I have no doubt about that. But may I treat you? It would be my absolute pleasure”.

Pleasure. The way he said the word was straight obscene. You couldn't handle the word 'pleasure' coming from a man who had been responsible for more than half your orgasms in the last few months.

So in your daze, you mumbled: "Yeah. Yeah, sure."

Raphael stood up and walked over to the barista. She acknowledged him, so that's one point for him being real and you not hallucinating. Not only did she acknowledge him but she flashed him a goofy grin - clearly smitten.

Of course she is.

You have to take a picture of him. How do you take a picture of someone without their consent without being a total creep?

You don't. It's in the fucking definition; you can't. But you should. Maybe you'll open your camera roll and see someone completely different, and then you'll know it's time to call for mental health services.

Your phone was buzzing with messages, which you quickly swiped away and went straight to the camera. You took a picture of him from behind while he ordered you a coffee. The barista gave you a “fucking weirdo” look. 

Fuck you, you thought, you have no idea what I am going through right now. Then you switched to the camera roll and checked to see if the photo reflected what you saw.

A broad, fit back of a very attractive middle-aged man with lush brown hair, paying for coffee with cash.

You couldn't decide whether this made you feel better or worse.

When Raphael returned with your cup, you had something for him too. "This is the character I was talking about," you said, a screenshot of virtual Raphael ready on your screen.

Anyone who saw the screenshot would say, "Who motion-captured me?" 

Not Raphael. He barely glanced before shrugging and handing your phone back. "Hmm, I see some resemblance, I guess."

Resemblance? What fucking resemblance? There was no resemblance; he WAS Raphael! You were about to argue but he beat you to it: "Why? Were you hoping to meet this...Raphael?" 

His voice dropped an octave and he looked at you intently. He was flirting - openly, unashamedly.

"I...I was," you stammered out. "He's my favourite character."

Brilliant, brilliant line. Dear diary, today I wanted to meet Raphael, my favourite character from my favourite game. So much for quoting Sartre.

"Well now, I'm flattered," Raphael purred, causing you to wriggle uncomfortably in your seat. "I do bear some physical likeness."

That was a massive understatement. 

The man had a disarmingly charming smile. You tried to remember if Raphael had ever smiled like that in the game. It was mostly scowls and grins and smirks, but this kind of smile? You didn't think so. You caught a glimpse of yourself in his hazel eyes, and that was not Tav; that was you. Just you.

Not that you were unattractive or anything. Average. Maybe even a little pretty on a good day. You didn't like yourself very much. Then again, most people don't. That's how the beauty industry makes its money. 

You got your share of attention, some, nothing to brag about. Had two boyfriends, it didn't work out, you used to care, now you don't. Certainly never got any attention from men who looked like him.

Why should this man be interested in you, why? Ah, yes. Your soul. He probably wants your soul. Is it worth much at all? Is it worth coming all the way to Earth? You wanted to apologize to him for going through all this trouble just for you.

"So this event in the convention hall down the street..." he snapped his fingers as if trying to recall a forgotten name.

"Comic-Con 2024," you supplied. "It's huge in fandom culture. TV shows, video games, that sort of stuff.”

"Ah. Not my kind of entertainment - or my kind of audience, for that matter," Raphael said with a slightly raised eyebrow, eyeing the “Astarion approves” badge on your backpack.  "It does remind me of a deal I signed recently."

"Deal?" you asked in a weak voice. He nodded. "What deal? With who?"

"With who? No, I meant the Microsoft-Blizzard acquisition". 

Ah, that kind of deal. The words felt so reassuring, so real, the acquisition. Raphael would have no idea about these words. Raphael wouldn't say "Microsoft". You mean the real Raphael. What the hell is a 'real' Raphael again?

For the first time, you let go of a little tension. You took a first sip of your coffee and leaned back slightly in your chair. 

"Actually, I think these acquisitions are really harmful for the industry," you said. 

Why did you have to be so confrontational? You didn't have anything clever to say about such things, so you spoke the truth instead. Bad idea.

"How candid of you to say that. Well, I’ll be just as candid with you: I am indeed a villain." Raphael grinned. "I hope you can forgive me." 

There went your short-lived relaxation, which lasted less than a minute.  Raphael had just looked at you and said "I am a villain". Challenge him. Tell him it's him because, well, it's him. It can only be him. Tell him you know it's him, and then...

And then what?

"Everybody's got a job to do, I guess", you managed to utter the most generic phrase in existence.

"Isn't that so..." Raphael replied, pausing for a moment before finishing the sentence with your name.

You did not introduce yourself to him. You were sure of it. Absolutely sure. 

"How do you know my name?" you asked, half rising from your chair, raising your voice and quickly lowering it again. "I didn't tell you my name. How do you know it?"

Raphael gestured to your phone, which lay on the table screen between the two of you. Your work ID card was tucked away in its transparent case - something you hadn't needed for a while.

It had your first and last name on it.

"I saw it right before my eyes," he explained. "I thought it was a hint."

"It wasn't," you said.

"Oh, another faux pas on my part then," he said. "At this rate, I owe you something to make up for all my many transgressions. Perhaps dinner?"

You let out a nervous chuckle. One of your popular Tumblr posts had been an impassioned rant about how Raphael had promised a similar in-game offer but failed to deliver despite the many times you gave him the Crown.

"I seem to have absolutely terrified you, and that was not my intention. I insist on making it up to you. If you allow me, of course. I don't want to impose. Would you allow me to?"

He looked at you with the intensity of a man admiring a beautiful woman, his shoulders back and chin slightly up, trying to present himself from his best angle - something you've seen men do before, but rarely (if ever) to you. It was as if he could hang on every word that came out of your mouth, simply because he enjoyed watching your lips move. Raphael looked like he was in love, for Christ's sake.

Your cheeks grew warm. 

"Yes," you replied.

He kept silent for a bit, savouring your answer. 

"Splendid. Where might I collect you?"

It took you a moment to realise that he was asking for your address. Your personal address. Shouldn't he know it already, if he was Raphael? You replied as nonchalantly as possible:

"Why don't I give you my number and we can arrange to meet at the center?"

His expression darkened slightly; you've seen this look in the game before.

No, you shouldn't have said that. You wanted him to like you. 

Desperately.

"You don't trust me?" Raphael's voice dropped an octave or two, playful and just a little threatening.

You felt his breath on your face (cherries?) and the next second you stopped feeling your legs. The attraction that had been simmering inside you for months started boiling over.

Breathe. Pretend it's not Raphael. A man came up to you in a coffee shop and asked you if you trusted him in that kind of tone, leaning in like that. You know what the sensible thing to do would be - get up and walk away. And if it really was Raphael, get up and run away. 

You remained seated and stayed. 

"Just, ugh..." was all you managed to get out of the jumbled thoughts in your head; two coherent sentences so far into the conversation, and both of them made you sound like an absolute madwoman. 

Raphael laughed.

"Of course you don't trust me, that's only prudent, and you seem to be quite an intelligent young lady. But just so we are clear, you and I: you have nothing to fear from me. What is that number of yours?"

Quite an intelligent young lady, the words echoed in your mind and you remembered your naughty anonymous Tumblr confession: I would suck every last drop of cum out of him as long as he kept praising me.

God, everything you've read with him in the main role. Double penetration, double vaginal penetration, pet play... you weren't even into half of it. You hoped Raphael didn’t think you actually wanted him to do all of the things you read with you.

You just liked clicking on random links.

"Do you need something to write it down or...?" you asked hesitantly.

"I will remember," he said curtly. “I do not forget things easily”.

You realised that there was something far more frightening than anything that had happened before: that he wouldn't remember, that he would never call you, and that this conversation and this meeting would end there. 

So you carefully enunciated each number, then took a pen from your pocket and wrote it down on a napkin: it seemed romantic in the movies, but your handwriting and the coffee stain made it look like a secret message from the madhouse.

He grinned and tucked the napkin into the pocket of his suit.

He took the last sip of coffee and then took your hand in his. He touched you. His skin was warm and real and soft and everything you had ever imagined, his touch surprisingly tender. 

Your whole body responded to that tiny crumb of affection, viscerally. You hadn't realized how famished you were for a touch until that moment.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed them against yours. His lips were soft too, slightly damp from the coffee.

"I am looking forward to our rendezvous," Raphael murmured against your palm. "Ver much so."

Rendezvous.

In any other situation, a middle-aged man kissing your hand would be downright creepy. But this... this was a fever dream, an illusion, anything but reality. Because there was no way this madness could actually be happening to you.

Was it a bad thing? Was reality ever... this? So unpredictable? So exciting? 

You only snapped out of it when the door closed behind him, but you snapped out hard. You practically threw yourself at the next table, where a group of guys were sitting, their appearance screaming video games - backpacks and scruffy beards, Warhammer-emblazoned T-shirts. 

You grabbed one by the shoulder and hissed urgently: "Guys-guys-guys-guys." Your words came like rapid fire. "Tell me that guy doesn't look exactly like Raphael from Baldur's Gate? That one? On the street behind the window?" 

Damn, you sounded desperate.

"Ah, sorry, never played it," came the nonchalant reply before he turned back to his friends' conversation.

"Baldur's Gate," chimed in another, his face lighting up. "Amazing game. Looks like who?"

"Raphael," you said. "The devil."

The guy laughed, but didn't even look where you were pointing.

"Ah, the two-pump chump?"

You shot a quick glance at Raphael. His eyes met yours through the glass window, and they were cold now; his smile was gone. 

I didn't say that, you pleaded with him in your thoughts. That guy said that. That guy over there. I would never say that.

Your defence of his bed skills stretched from Reddit to Tumblr threads, you argued that Haarlep was slandering him, that Raphael was the best fuck there ever was and you personally vouched for that because you fucked him a thousand times in your head.

"Don't call him that, please," you whispered to the guy. He gave you a confused look when you pointed at Raphael again: "Look at him. The one staring at us. Does he look like him?

Is he real? Do you see him too?

"Ah yes," he admitted with a grin on his face, raising the cup of coffee to his lips, "he sort of does. Yes, he does! Well, I hope he doesn't...oh shit! FUCK!".

The guy's face contorted in pain as he clutched his mouth, jumping, cursing, tears streaming down his face. You could see the skin on his lips reddening and blistering.

"What the fuck?! It's fucking boiling! FUCK! "

The barista rushed over to him, spewing apologies as she tried to handle the situation. You took a step back and glanced at Raphael whose lips were moving subtly - two syllables that matched rhythmically: 'bye-bye' or maybe 'ciao-ciao'. 

It didn't have to be 'ta-ta'. He waved nonchalantly at you.

You waved back.

NEXT: Chapter 3, In Which Larian Introduces The Raphael Romance

#bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #raphael x player #raphael x tav #raphael x oc #raphael x you #meta fanfic

[inavagrant-a]

You rp

..... ..I sure hope I do.

#blazesmith #inquiries. #out. #at least i think that i do #in theory am i really though #i'm just over here in my silly little laptop #clickity clackiting away at my keyboard keys #and barfing out words in hopes that they make sens e

[mynahx3]

One Moment Was All It Took Part 2

Here’s the part 2 of Soulmate Gojo based off of @envy-of-the-apple HC !!! Prob gonna have like 6 parts ngl lolol Hope everyone enjoys, might be able to get part 3 out by Mon if my schedule remains open.  Warning this chapter has non con touching, drugging, kidnapping, fighting w/ mentions of blood!! If this disturbs you please don’t read Next part with prob be spicy Masterlist

A couple weeks  have passed since that cafe incident, and it completely slipped your mind—something you laughed about with your fiance when you got home that day. He wasn't very amused, but you brushed it off as just a strange encounter. Your mind was preoccupied with the upcoming wedding in the coming months. The colorful sticky notes with wedding tasks covered the calendar on your fridge, each one a reminder of the preparations ahead, and a sense of giddiness filled you whenever you glanced at the detailed schedule.

You sit perched on a stool in your cozy kitchen, meticulously reviewing wedding preparations on your laptop. Your eyes stung slightly as you read the screen, a frown evident on your face, longing for your fiance's presence to assist you. He had to attend a sudden business trip that took him out of the country.

It was good news, meaning his boss began to trust him with more responsibilities, but it also meant you were left to handle the wedding planning on your own for the time being. You were pleased to see him advancing in his career, yet you also felt somewhat overwhelmed by the additional responsibilities you had to manage.

After stretching, you stand up to take a break when the doorbell rings. Confusion overwhelms you as you approach the door, peering through the peephole to find nobody there. You open the door, keeping the chain attached as you look around. No one was there. While closing the door, you notice a vase filled with beautiful flowers on your welcome mat. A smile blooms on your face at the sight of the flowers, and you bring them into your apartment.

The flowers looked expensive in a beautiful crystal vase with a note attached to the neck of it, trimmed with gold. It reads, "Thinking of you always, even from afar. S." Your heart swells with warmth as you assume it was your fiance's thoughtful gesture. Pulling out your phone, you decide to call them and thank them for the surprise. The line rings for a few seconds before he answers, his voice happy and excited to hear from you. Noise in the background, likely from his busy office.

"Well, aren't you the romantic?" You say this, admiring the flowers sitting in front of you. A bright smile on your face as you hold your phone to your ear.

"What did I do this time?" He asked with a laugh, not understanding what you meant. You chuckle at his confusion, feeling even more grateful for his thoughtfulness.

"The flowers you sent, silly," you reply, feeling the softness of the petals on your fingertips. "Thank you, baby."

The line is silent—so silent that you think the phone dropped. Just as you were about to hang up and call back, he spoke.

"Honey… I didn't send you anything." Your smile fades at his words, your heart sinking as you wonder who could have possibly sent such a thoughtful gift.

"I'm… I'm sure the delivery person just got the wrong apartment." You shrug, looking around it to see if there was anything else written on the card—the only piece of paper on it.

Turning it over, your heart drops, and you see your name written in the golden ink with a heart next to it. You feel a shiver run down your spine at the implications, but you choose to keep it to yourself. Not wanting to ruin his mood and throw him off during such an important meeting.

"I'll just ask the front desk if anyone asks about them; I'd hate for whoever sent them to be mad that it went to the wrong person." You laugh as you crumble the card up in your hand.

"Now I feel bad I didn't get that idea." Your fiance' laughs, your nerves easing a little at the sound. "Promise I'll do something way better, sweet cheeks."

The corny nickname makes you laugh and roll your eyes. Since your high school days, he had always been cheesy and overly romantic, qualities you cherished. In the years that you supported one another, you both experienced a great deal. Despite the difficulties, you both emerged stronger after transitioning from broke college students to starting careers together in Japan. At times, he couldn't express his love in the most conventional ways, but his efforts were always genuine and appreciated.

"I got to go, babe. Another meeting is about to start." He sighed, his coworkers shouting his name over the phone. "I love you; I'll be home in a few weeks."

"I love you too." You smile happily, hearing him give you kisses through the receiver before hanging up.

You're left to your own thoughts, the vase sitting pretty in front of you. Mind trying to figure out who must have sent them. Being the taken woman you were, you couldn't figure out who must have sent them, if not your fiance'. The mystery sender lingered in your mind for a bit. But you brush it off, moving on with your day, thinking maybe a family member or friend sent them. Going on with the rest of your day, a day filled with phone calls and scheduling, you forget about the bouquet sitting on your counter.

The flowers should have been the first clue, a warning sign of what was to come. Over time, you begin to feel uneasy, feeling constantly watched. Small things in your apartment were moved or went missing—things you know you didn't touch before leaving. Additional gifts mysteriously appeared on your doorstep, each accompanied by intricately detailed notes, intensifying in their personal nature.

Fury consumed you as you unwrapped another package, revealing a set of lacy lingerie in your size and favorite color. A note with it, written in the familiar handwriting, simply said, "For our special night." The realization hits you like a ton of bricks: someone has been in your home, watching your every move. Fear grips you as you realize the extent of the intrusion into your personal space. You burned that gift without a second thought; any other gift was sent to the trash.

Your nights were restless, alone in your apartment—or at least, you hoped you were alone. The feeling of being watched grew stronger, causing you to constantly look over your shoulder. You couldn't shake the feeling that someone was always nearby, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal themselves. The once innocent gifts and flowers now felt like a sinister presence in your life, leaving you on edge and paranoid. You had even gone to the police, informing them what was happening, but they said they couldn't do anything without concrete evidence of a threat. This only added to your growing sense of dread.

Walking home from lunch with your friends, you decided to detour to a park, needing a moment of solitude. Sitting on a bench, cherry blossoms fall around you, their delicate petals drifting to the ground like whispers of reassurance, offering a sense of peace and tranquility in the midst of your fear.

As you take deep breaths and enjoy the gentle wind tousling your hair, you fail to notice someone sitting beside you as you drift off in thought. A tap on your shoulder brings you back to reality with a jump. Looking at where it came from, your eyes widen in shock at the white haired man sitting next to you. It took a second before your mind recognized him; he was the man from the cafe. There was a smile on his face, perfect as you remembered, one that brought you an icy feeling down your spine. He tilted his head, holding a single flower to you, a ribbon tied to its stem.

"Fancy seeing you here." He grinned.

Feeling unsure of how to react, you stared at the man with bewilderment, your heart beating fast. You weren't stupid enough to trust him, frowning at his close proximity. His presence put you on edge, as memories of what he said weeks ago ran through your mind. Knowing he was the one behind the unsettling messages you have been receiving the last week. Pouting, he let the flower droop a little in his hand once he realized you wouldn't take it from him.

"Don't be like that." He sighed dramatically, dropping the flower to his side, eyeing your form.

His smile was charming, reminiscent of when you first met. His eyes twinkled mischievously over his sunglasses. Under different circumstances, you might have admitted that he was quite attractive. Now he only sent chills down your spine, especially with how comfortably he said your name, as if he had known you for years.

As your shoulders tense, you try to move away from him, but just like before, he grabs your wrist. Pulling you to sit back down with him. His grip was ironclad, unmoving as you writhed in a futile attempt to break free. Every detail of his eyes was sharp and intense, as if they were staring deep into your soul.

"You know I'm surprised; you were super easy to keep an eye on." His words dripped with chilling confidence, sending a jolt of fear through you and causing your heart to race even faster. "You should really pay more attention to your surroundings. You never know what monsters lurk out there, ready to eat up a cutie like you."

"What… what do you want?" You asked, your voice small, and your throat felt tight in fear. The grip on your wrist tightened as he leaned in closer.

"That doesn't matter right now," he said casually, his tone sending shivers down your spine. "Let's get to know each other a little."

He wraps his arm back around you, letting go of your wrist to bring your body closer to his. To anyone walking by, it would just look like a couple enjoying the spring weather together. Your body was rigid as he rubbed your shoulder a bit roughly, his cold fingers feeling your soft skin.

You wish you hadn't worn that dress today; its low neckline and thin straps gave him easy access to your skin. Goosebumps littered your arms as you tried to subtly move away from his touch. His grip tightened slightly, indicating his control over your movement. A sinking feeling in your stomach settled, and you knew you needed to get away.

"I don't want anything to do with you." You told him, wishing there wasn't a waver in your voice, wishing you stood stronger against him.

His entire energy and demeanor were intense, but there was a slight furrow in his brow at your words. It was gone as soon as you noticed it, and the same cocky grin was on his face the next second.

"Princess, I don't think you have a choice." His words sent a chill down your spine, filling you with fear at the core of your being.

Silently, he retrieved his phone and began scrolling through a series of photos. The photos displayed your family, friends, and your fiancé. Your loved ones are living their lives, oblivious to the danger they are in because of you. He even has pictures of you from the last week, going from you at work to you in your apartment in your private moments. Finally, he stops the slideshow, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

"Get where this is going?" He chuckles, edging even closer to make sure your thighs touch. "It was difficult to find any real dirt on your boy toy; he's a good guy. I will give him that, but... I know exactly how to make him disappear."

You nod slowly, feeling the lingering threat of danger in the air as you try to comprehend the gravity of the situation. His presence caused you to take short, panicked breaths. This is something he actually notices: a softer look in his eyes now while his hand moves to rub your thigh comfortingly. Your body stiffens as you feel the tip of his fingers tracing just below the hem of your dress.

"Gotta cut this short. Still have to prepare a few things real quick; I couldn't help but check in on my girl." He leans closer to kiss your cheek softly before pulling away.

You didn't respond, feeling too suffocated next to him. Your wide eyes focused on him; it seemed he wanted to be flush with you no matter how much you squirmed away. Fortunately, he doesn't prolong the moment, letting go of your shoulder and putting his hands on his knees.

"I'll come get you shortly; I don't want to keep you waiting too long." He says it playfully, winking as he puts a piece of gum in his mouth and smacks it noisily.

With that, he rises from the bench, looking down at you with a beaming smile, and turns to walk away. He disappears from sight, walking out of the park. This left you feeling worse than before as you wiped your cheek clean. Your gut feelings intensified, urging you to run.

When you got home, you immediately started packing, changing into a simple pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Hurriedly packing a bag with the bare essentials, leaving a mess behind in your wake. You didn't know exactly what you would do, yet you had to get away. The urgency of the situation propelled you forward, heedless of consequences or sacrifices.

It was unbearable to see your stalker in real life—a smack in the face of the true danger you were in. Quickly, you texted your fiance', explaining you were going to stay with a friend for a few days. Once you finally explained to him the situation with the stalker, he called to discuss the next steps.

"You should've told me what was happening."

"I know… I didn't want to worry you. This meeting was important." Tears welled in your eyes, and the stress of everything came to a head. Confiding in him finally brought you comfort, but a part of you felt guilty for not telling him sooner.

"Not more important than you and your safety, I love you."

"I love you too." You whispered into the phone, wiping any stray tears from your face.

"I'll get the next flight out. Stay at your friend's place until I get there," he said firmly. "Keep your taser on you wherever you go. Be safe."

"I will, thank you," you replied, feeling a sense of relief wash over you, knowing he was on his way to be by your side. The thought of having him there to support you made the situation feel more manageable.

He quickly explained the stalker situation to his boss, secured the next available flight, and ended the call upon reaching the airport. The sun had long set, and the dark sky was beginning to fill with twinkling stars, visible through the windows.

On any other night, you would have enjoyed the starry night with a glass of wine and your favorite book, but now you ignore the view. Focus on packing up for your impromptu trip away from the comforts of your home. Once you finished packing, you moved a suitcase into the living room, ready to leave.

A sudden, hard knock at the door surprises you greatly, causing you to jump. It repeats after a moment; much harsher, the door shakes in its frame. Nervously, you move silently to see who it was. Through the peephole, you see that cursed head of snow white hair, his smile as wide as ever. Stepping back, your breath catching in your throat, and your legs turning to jelly as adrenaline surged through your veins. Your stalker was outside your apartment, banging on the door while calling out your name in a joyful tone.

As escape plans raced through your mind, the realization of being in a high-floor apartment without a fire escape sank in, presenting a daunting obstacle. Panic grips you as you frantically reach for your phone in the kitchen. Just as you go to grab it, a loud, crashing sound comes from behind.

Turning around, you see the front door on the floor with a crater in it, and your stalker is smiling menacingly at you. For a moment, you both freeze, a standoff of short going on. Without hesitation, you reach for a knife from the block on the counter behind you and hold it out in front. Despite your nerves, your hands didn't shake as you pointed the sharp knife at him, a cold stare on your face.

"Get the fuck out."

The man smiles at this, laughing a bit at your attempt to intimidate him. As he stepped forward to come closer to you, his finger traced over the countertops. At that moment, you instinctively step back from him, creating distance between you. You both circled the kitchen island cautiously while he slowly removed the bandages covering his eyes.

He put the bandages on the counter, his blue eyes watching your every move like a hawk. He pauses, smirking, his hand stopping just at your phone, then quickly picks it up and crushes it in his hand. Letting the phone fall to the counter in a broken mess, he looks at you with a wide grin.

"Now we can have some real fun."

The front door was behind him; you knew you had to risk running past him or deeper into your apartment. The latter wasn't the best idea since you would be trapped in a corner with no way out but to run you would have to risk getting caught by him. With a deep breath, you made a split-second decision to dart towards the door, hoping to make it out before he could react.

As you sprint to the front door, he easily catches you, wrapping strong arms around your waist. Knife still in hand, you try to swipe at him from behind, only earning you a twist of your arm. A sharp pain radiates through your arm as he twists it more into an awkward angle, making you yell in pain and drop it to the floor in a loud clang.

Pulling you closer, he easily holds you against him, not being phased by your kicking and screams. Securing an arm around your waist, his hand held both your wrists with ease. He leans in, burying his head in the crook of your neck and taking a deep, unsettling breath. The other hand goes over your mouth to muffle your screams. In retaliation, you managed to wiggle your face out, biting down hard on his hand, your tongue flooding with a coppery taste.

This didn't seem to phase him; his blood was dripping down your chin. The metallic tang of his blood is sickening you. Nevertheless, you continue to struggle in his arms, trying to elbow him to break free. A guttural moan escapes his lips as he plants small, chilling kisses on the skin of your neck, enjoying this moment. You feel trapped, like a rat in a snake's grip, desperate for a chance to escape.

"You're so soft." He whispers into your ear, tightening his grip over you, not budging as you dig your heel into his shins.

Teeth still clenched on his hand, digging deeper for him to let go. When he didn't respond you released your jaw, you threw your head back. You hit him square in the nose, eliciting a gasp of pain from him. Blood drips from his nose as he stumbles back, momentarily stunned. Seizing the opportunity, you push him away and run as fast as you can, your heart pounding in your chest.

You run towards the door, the gaping exit mocking you, so close yet so far. You don't make it much farther; he grabs your hair harshly and throws you to the ground. On the floor, you cough and gasp for air. The impact of your back on the hardwood knocked air out of your lungs. As you crawl away from him, trying to regain your breath, he stands in front of the only exit, looking over at you with a menacing grin.

"Here, I thought it would be easy; God, I fucking love this." He wipes his nose with his sleeve, smearing blood on his face. A demented look on his face tells you that he's enjoying this far too much. "As much as I want to continue, kind of on a time crunch, babe. I'm pretty sure your lovely neighbors have already called the police."

Saying this, he crouches down, pulling you to him by your ankle. You kick at him with your other foot, one connected to his chin, but he only laughs in response, dodging any more of your attempts to fight back.

"You're a feisty one, I like that," he chuckles, tightening his grip on your ankle as he begins to drag you closer. "You're not going anywhere."

Your heart races as you desperately search for a way out of this nightmare. Keeping a hold of you, he pulls out a syringe filled with mysterious liquid from his pocket. The sight makes your heart drop. In your shock, he stabs it roughly into your thigh, pushing the liquid in. As the drug takes effect, your vision blurs and your body goes limp, leaving you at his mercy.

"Sweet dreams." He takes you into his arms, watching you fall into unconsciousness. The last thing you hear before blacking out is his sinister chuckle echoing in your ears

Hope you enjoyed lovelies! Likes/ reblogs are appreciated <3 pls no repost

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x you #yandere jjk x reader #cw dark content #cw blood #cw kidnapping #cw yandere #One Moment Was All It Took

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

First of all, very in love with the digital reader fic you put out <3

But since reader expressed not knowing why they were in hell I just couldn't help myself from thinking about this-

Reader: I don't even know why I'm here, the hell did I ever do?

Lucifer: Didn't you crash over half of all the systems on earth when you were alive?

Reader: That was an accident! I was only trying to crash like...ten!

Just a goofy thought that popped into my head- destructive characters that are chaotic on accident my beloved lmao-

Kisses darling <3

-📽

Sweet silly little Lucifer with his ducks. I feel like everyone thinks he's completely aware of everything happening in Hell at all times. Meanwhile, he's just making ducks and missing his daughter and can't remember the last time he ate.

Digital Pet [Vox x Reader, but this is a Lucifer interaction]

What Do You Mean You Don't Know

You'd been surfing through the digital plane like any other day. Vox had his schedule completely full, so you were on your own the pass the time. You hopped between windows that led into various devices all around Hell.

It was hard to tell where you were most of the time, but a part of you was convinced that you could slip into the devices of demons outside the Pride Ring. You'd once seen hellhounds and succubi at a party when you'd peeked into a large screen behind a DJ on stage. The large venue was covered in honeycombs and you saw some sort of lava lamp-looking furry doing shots in the middle of the energized crowd. While the aesthetic was similar enough to what you'd seen in the sinner's little slice of Hell, it felt... different.

It was precious information you decided to hold close to your chest. Maybe you'd tell Vox one day but from everything you'd seen about his power-hungry reputation, you decided it may be best not to play your card too soon. For all you know, it was just an exclusive club with different vibes. It wasn't unheard of for demons from the other rings to come to the clubs in Pride.

You were floating through an endless hall of screens and lights, looking between the different windows into the world you couldn't hope to touch when you saw a face that made you double-take.

"Is that..." You float back and gasp as you get a closer look that confirms your suspicions. "Oh, you motherfucker!"

Lucifer let out a startled yelp, dropping the duck he'd been painting as he fell out of his chair. He'd just been minding his own business, listening to some light jazz while he made duckie replicas of his daughter and all her little friends at the hotel when a loud voice suddenly blasted over the music on his laptop.

He frowned as he looked down and saw his white pants splatted with the fresh red paint of Alastor's duck. He was on his ninth attempt at replicating the cocky jerk and had finally been on the verge of getting his stupid grin right when you startled him.

"Oh great," Lucifer grumbled as he pulled himself off of the ground. "It's already bad enough I have a growing pile of ducks dedicated to this prick, now he's ruining my clothes too."

Lucifer leaned over his desk, trying to see what sort of pop-up advertisement or virus had gotten on his system when he suddenly saw you watching him with crossed arms. Your small form glared at him from where you sat atop of his video player.

"A sinner...?" Lucifer blinked slowly before looking at you in awe. He could see your soul and recognized you as a person immediately. "What on Earth are you doing in there?"

"You tell me!" you point at him angrily. "You're the guy in charge of this shit, aren't you? What did I ever do to you?! I didn't do anything to deserve a worse Hell than everyone else."

"How should I know?" Lucifer squawked as he threw up his arms in defense... "I haven't gone outside in... wait, what day is it?"

"How do you not know?" You ask, the two of you amping each other up in your confusion. "You're Lucifer! This is literally your entire thing!"

"Uh, excuse you," Lucifer tsked as he placed a hand on his chest. "I'll have you know I am a man of ducks and dadness. Not keeping track of every soul that drops into Hell. Do you have any idea just how many of you die a day? A lot. Too many. Just. Please get better at staying alive, I beg you."

You deadpan at him before shaking your head with a sigh. "Well, do you at least know how to get me out of the digital plane? I'd like to actually eat food or let my feet touch the ground o-or sleep in a bed!"

"Uhh," Lucifer laughed nervously. "Yeaaaah, no. Nope. Sorry uh, no. Technology isn't something I really know anything about. I'd love to help but uh, yeah... no."

You groan, obviously disappointed in his answer as you flop over to the side and let your frustration win in the moment. You run a hand down your face and look up at the great devil of Hell with a sigh.

"Do you at least have any idea why I'm in Hell and not Heaven?"

Lucifer hummed, squinting at you as he ran a history check on your soul. It took a lot longer to find a reason than he expected, but then he finally landed on it.

"Ah, there it is," he muttered. "Looks like you ate the last slice of birthday cake in the fridge back in your college days."

Your jaw drops, for a couple of reasons. The top reason should have been that such a little thing damned your soul for eternity. However, your priorities were a bit skewed. Which became transparently obvious as you exclaimed, "Excuse me?! It was MY birthday cake!"

"Yeah, but they called dibs," Lucifer shook his head with a sigh. "Heaven takes dibs very seriously. And as you should know by now, I don't make the rules."

The powerful demon grumbled like a child as you recovered from the absolute bullshit that was your afterlife. It wasn't until you'd sat back up that you looked past Lucifer and finally noticed his room.

"Why the fuck are there so many ducks?"

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #i guess?? #vox x reader #digital pet

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - IT Ticket: I fell.

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU Byte-Sized Microfic

The LIST │ Read the main series here!

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Story Summary: Joel is usually careful when he takes care of his business. This is what happens when he's not.

Word Count: 590

A/N: Just a little drabble based on this post! - I had a good laugh thanks to @burntheedges and her comment regarding Pedro's sling, so thanks for the inspiration!

Joel tends to approach things with a great deal of care.

In his office, he waits with bated breath, fingers tapping rhythmically on his desk in anticipation. The cleaning crew casually comments, "Late night again, Mr. Miller?" as they pass his office door.

"Yep! Have a nice night!" he absentmindedly replies, nodding in their direction. Internally, he silently and impatiently waits for their departure, listening intently for the familiar ding of the elevator, signaling the coveted moment when the coast is finally clear.

DING!

"Finally," he mutters to himself, exhaling a sigh of relief as he sinks into his desk chair. After a long moment, he cautiously walks towards his office door, peeking his head out just to be sure. Satisfied, he slams the door shut, practically racing towards his laptop as he feverishly begins typing.

"Boss fucks secretary senseless" he types in the search bar, unbuckling his belt in excitement. 

As the explicit images from his search inquiry flood his screen, Joel scrolls through the results, dismissing the silicone-enhanced blondes and redheads that appear too sexy and not to his liking. He's on the hunt for a particular kind of flavor—a natural kind of body with curves for days.  

If they happen to wear glasses like you do, well, that's an added bonus, right?

Amongst what feels like hundreds of disappointing thumbnails, he finally spots, with disbelief, "Boss Fucks Secretary Who Helps Him with His Broken Computer." His eyes widen in shock, unable to believe his luck. "Damn it, Sugar," he groans, clicking on the video. His hands fiddle with the elastic of his boxers as he settles himself, his cock rock hard, his tip weeping and leaking with precome. He gently strokes up his shaft, his dick sensitive after being at half mast for most of the day. He swipes at his tip, stroking faster, his dick twitching in excitement. "Shit baby," he mumbles, "just like that-"

Just as he's getting comfortable, a soft knock echoes on his door.

"Mr. Miller? Are you there?" You call out, your voice filled with concern.

"Sugar?" Joel calls back, nearly zipping the skin off his cock as he frantically tries to make himself decent. "Just a moment!" he yells, stumbling on his jeans in the process, his body slamming onto the floor with a resounding thump.

"GODDAMMIT!" he screams, grabbing his elbow as he withers in pain.

"What the hell Joel?" You yell from behind the door, "Wait! I'm coming in!"

"No, I'm okay!" he shouts back, desperately wishing for some miracle that you'll decide to walk away, sparing him the embarrassment of being caught in a moment of absolute stupidity. "Please go," he mutters weakly, his eyes closed in embarrasment. 

He knows you, though. Knows that you're the type to always lend a helping hand, no matter how silly the request.  

As he hears the doorknob turn, his eyes dart to his computer screen, the video still playing. Mustering enough adrenaline he didn't know was possible to have, the shooting pain in his arm be dammed, he stumbles to his desk, slamming his laptop shut with a force so strong he swears he hears something resembling a crack. I'll just tell Tess I dropped it, he thinks, breathing a sigh of relief as you open the door, rushing to him in a hurry.

"Joel," you breathe, "What happened to you?"

He gives you a wry smile, unable to deny how adorable you look, fretting over him. My silly, silly little worry wart.

He shrugs. "I fell."

#pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #The Girl in IT #the last of us fanfic #joel miller imagine #tlou hbo #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us hbo #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters

[fumekara]

MORE THAN ANYTHING 

Kento Nanami x Gn reader 

n/a: English is not my first language, besides, this Fic comes from a draft taken some time ago. I hope you enjoy it. It is my first time back to writing in a long time. 

Tw: Just pure fluff and soft sfw, I would like to specify that this post does not contain any type of sexual content. The title is inspired by HH's song. 

WC: 1.1K

That night you could not fall asleep.

After turning yourself several times on the sheets of the bed, on which you had lain a couple of hours before, you looked at the half-open door through which a dim light filtered from the living room, giving the bedroom a thread of light in the darkness of the night.

You hoped your man would decide to drop the papers and paperwork he often brought home from work and come to bed with you, wrapping you in his arms so you could finally sleep in complete bliss as you usually did.

"I'll be right with you, it won't take long," he had told you when you proposed to sleep with him after you both went through a long day at work.

However, this was one of those evenings when Kento would spend hours on the kitchen table filling out paperwork late into the night. Although he hated office work, he was always diligent and meticulous when it came to completing his tasks.

It was a characteristic that made you feel proud of the man you loved, yet no matter how responsible and careful he was in managing his time and energy, you were sure he was beginning to place less importance on his rest. You wanted so much for him to give up those silly practices and take the rest he deserved.

After staring at the ceiling for an hour, you sat on your side of the bed, shivering from the sudden cold due to the lack of blankets, and looking at the bedside table you saw that 00:50 was written on the screen. And even today he worked late 

You got up and, making as little noise as possible, took small steps towards the living room.

Kento was writing something on his laptop, surrounded by a pile of papers divided into folders of various kinds lit by the light of the monitor and the lamp you kept in the corner of the kitchen.

He noticed your presence and gave you a small, tired smile, giving your heart some warmth.

"Are you still awake, love?" He asked as he leaned against the back of the chair.

"I could tell you the same thing," you replied a little sleepily, returning the smile and moving closer to the blond. As sorry as you are that he was exhausted from work, you couldn't help but think about how handsome he was. Even though you'd been together for a few years, the love you felt for this man had always had that effect on you. I've been waiting for you,' you said, heading towards him. 

You sit on his lap and he wraps his big arms around you, you notice that the sleeves of his shirt are rolled up and show off his forearms, something he always did when he came home. Leaning his head on your shoulder and inhaling deeply, he loses himself in your scent and warmth. Suddenly all the tiredness he had put aside to work on his papers came over him like a wave of a stormy sea, but the fact that you were there with him gave him a feeling of comfort.

He always felt at home with you. 

"I'm sorry Y/N". He rubbed his head in the crook of your neck "I was late again without me noticing" he said, planting a chaste kiss on an exposed spot on your shoulder.

Gently you brushed his hair back with one hand, while with the other you closed the laptop he was working on just now, making it clear that it was time for him to take the rest he so richly deserved.

"Come to sleep, Kento, it's not good for you to stay here late and I miss you," you said as you rested your head on his soft hair on your cheek.

"I know, you're right," he lifted his chin, placing a kiss on your neck, "I don't like leaving you alone either."

Lifting your head slightly, you turned to stare at him, touching his cheek lovingly as you looked intently into his eyes.

Pure love

You couldn't have found any other words to describe the way he looked at you whenever you were in situations like this, alone, with no one else to interrupt you, without Gojo, just the two of you. He made you feel loved, important, and you often thought back to the moment you realized you had fallen in love with him.

As a result, Nanami couldn't understand how he could have you in his life, how lucky he was to have you and how much he regretted making you go through nights like this when he left you alone. He felt selfish and the only thing he wanted at that moment was to go to bed and wrap you in his arms with your head against his chest. 

You remained in that position for a long time, a wonderful feeling for both of you. He placed his face on yours and then gave you a kiss on the cheek savoring the aroma.

Without saying anything, you got up from his lap, took his hand without taking your eyes off his and, after switching off the lights, slowly guided him towards your shared bedroom.

"I'm sorry I don't spend much time with you," he said as he shed his work clothes, "I don't want you to stay up because of me, but I appreciate you doing so." After slipping into his sweatpants, he settled next to you in bed as you wrapped him with the quilt.

"You don't have to apologize for working so hard, you have done and are doing a great job. I just want you not to overdo the work, everyone deserves a break and you especially." After turning off the lights you lie down beside him and feel him encircling your waist with his arm "Don't think you are being mean to me Kento, you always do so much for me, you show me that every day and remind me every time you look at me." 

In the darkness you could glimpse his small smile that made your heart melt.

"Come here," he told you as he felt butterflies in his stomach, as if he had managed to fall in love with you even more than before.

More than anything. 

You felt his grip envelop you even more as you brought faces closer and met lips in a chaste, soft, pure kiss. 

When you pulled away, you rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes.

"I love you Y/N."

"I love you too, darling." 

You both fell asleep wrapped in bliss.

#jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen fandom #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nanami fluff #kento nanami #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami kento x gender neutral reader #kento x reader #jjk nanami #nanami x you #nanami kento fluff #nanami fanfic

[evermourning]

𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 - bang chan

pairing: bang chan x reader

genre: fluff, comfort, slice of life, based off "must be love" by laufey

wc: 0.8k

warnings: neck kisses (non-sexual), use of nicknames (baby, sweetheart), language

now that you had someone you could call your own, it was like time stopped.

you were used to not much going your way, like the world had it out for you. it was some sort of sick fucking joke, like a dark raincloud hanging over your fate and covering up all that was good. you learned to code with it. that was how you lived.

until chan came along, of course.

he was the warm ray of sunshine you needed to push the melancholia inside you away. immediately, you could tell something was different. this guy was just full of so much love, it seemed surreal. intangible.

now, months into a relationship with the supposed man of your dreams, you missed him miserably. he sat absorbed in his work, the studio forming a impenetrable fortress that took away any means of self or time...and you sat in traffic.

whenever you were with him, the bad things faded out of view, and when you weren't near his remedial presence, they quickly made themselves known once again.

however, your boyfriend had taught you to appreciate the little things in life. you were composed, calm as you settled into the remotely soft car seat and looked out your window. the sky was like a canvas, warm colors with hues of reds, oranges, pinks, and yellows danced across the dimming sky as the sun bid its final goodbyes...until it would return joyously the next day, like clockwork.

when you finally arrived home, much later than anticipated, you opened the door to the smell of spices and a delicious and piquant scent wafting from the oven, and your boyfriend hard at work in the kitchen.

"you're back!" he said, grinning. carefully setting down the wooden spoon, making sure not even a single drop stained your counters. "i was beginning to worry, you didn't even send me a text..." he faked a pout, only causing your smile to widen.

"i'm sorry, the sunset was so mesmerizing tonight, baby. and i was stuck in traffic." seeing his incredulous glance, you let out a tiny chuckle. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry! in my defense, i thought you were holed up in your studio again, so i assumed you wouldn't even be here..."

"can't do that as much anymore," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. "my baby would miss me too much."

you laughed softly, closing your eyes and feeling yourself get lost in the moment as chan pressed soft kisses along your collarbone and neck.

the little moments like these were the ones where you let yourself go, succumbing to the tranquility of the time spent with him.

you'd fallen so hard, you realized. sometimes you couldn't even believe he was your lover, feeling more akin to some silly school crush whenever you'd get all tongue-tied from his rampant flirting.

this was something more than a crush, though. this feeling of a blooming flower, spreading its vibrant petals far and wide throughout your heart was new. and you...liked it.

...

"where the hell have you been? you're almost alway busy nowadays!" your friend nagged on the phone. "don't tell me that no-good boyfriend of yours is monopolizing all your time...." you tuned her out as her incessant cacophony of yapping made your ears ring. instead, you chose to focus on your boyfriend's eyes, two serene pools of melted chocolate, filled with an elixir of love only for you.

"you're so damn pretty." he commented, staring at you, his lips stretched into a goofy little grin. "i wanna write another song about you."

"another?" you asked, hanging up on your friend. the silence felt heavenly. "you've been writing quite a bit recently, sweetheart...don't you think your fans will start to notice?"

his grin widened.

"see, that's my master plan. i keep all the recordings on my special laptop. therefore, i'll have them without the fans knowing. just for the two of us." he cooed, giving you a quick yet loving kiss. "you should go see ms. screech owl, now. i don't want to prove her point and monopolize your attention...although i really wish i could."

his words played on your heartstrings like a talented violinist, as usual. nowadays, he conducted an entire symphony inside your heart, driving you absolutely crazy.

nearly every waking moment, you felt euphoric, stuck inside a wonderland just for you. chan inhabited every waking thought of yours, and you just couldn't shake him. when he wasn't with you, it felt like a piece of you wasn't there. when he was with you, you felt like you were on cloud nine.

this wasn't normal, you concluded. there was only one possible answer to the scenario you'd entangled yourself in.

this was love, wasn't it?

#ren writes <3 #evermourning #skz #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #bang chan #chan x reader #skz fluff #bang chan fluff #bewitched set...entry i

[mylostloversbookmarks]

Do You Want Me Or Do You Not?

Characters - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary - You have been with Joel and Sarah for 4 years and your life is pretty perfect. Your evening plans quickly take a turn for the worse.

Word Count - 2.3K

Warnings/Tags - 18+ only Minors dni. Typical canon language, Angst, I mean all the angst, Joel being an asshole? mentions of arguing, mentions of drinking.

A/N - Set Pre-Outbreak! This is my first fic and I would like to say a massive thank you to the beautiful @pedgeitopascal for beta reading and encouraging me to share this! This was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away, open to writing more to this! Feedback is appreciated but pls be kind.

Read Chpt 2 Here! ~ Hold On To Me, Cause' Im A Little Unsteady.

Divider credit to @saradika

You slammed the door so hard that you were surprised it didn’t come off its hinges. Your blood was boiling, leaving a thin sheen of sweat over your skin and prickling up your spine to the back of your neck, making you feel nauseous.

"How could he say that?" you ask yourself quietly.

Staring blankly at the front yard, the streetlights hummed and zinged above your head, making you dizzy. The air was hot and sticky, clinging to your exposed skin like ivy on an old house. You moved slowly, your legs feeling as if they were wading through quicksand. Closing your eyes and inhaling the humid evening air, you feel tears pooling in your eyes and threatening to overflow.

"How did this happen?" you thought to yourself over and over again. Sure, it wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to argue, but they were always silly little fights that you blamed on your short temper and his stubbornness. You'd both raised your voices at each other before, and instead of apologising like adults, he'd do or say something that made you laugh, and no matter how hard you tried—and God knows you tried—to hide it with a bitten lip or a turn of the head, He saw right through you. Giving you that "I know you're mad, but you love me" look with a shit-eating grin.

You would roll your eyes and wrap your arms around his waist. Laying your head against his chest as he rested his chin on the top of your head. The small circles you drew on his broad back and the silent kisses he placed on the crown of your head were just unspoken apologies. Not this time. This felt different. This felt final. Like there was no coming back from the venom-laced words he hurled at you.

It was late, around eleven p.m. if you had to guess. You cursed under your breath as you realised you had left your phone on the kitchen counter. Not knowing what to do, you decided to walk around the block and give yourself and him a chance to calm down.

You felt lost, wandering, your face hot from the tears you hadn't noticed were falling freely now. You tried to take another deep, shuddering breath as you wiped the palms of your hands over your face, but all that was coming were silent, wracking sobs, your throat hurting from swallowing around the lump in it. As you walked the empty streets of your suburban neighbourhood, the argument replayed over and over in your head.

Joel had just returned home from work, having promised you and Sarah that he would be home by seven o'clock at the latest. You couldn't lie to yourself, you wished he was home more, but you understood that he needed to finish this job, so you didn't press him on it. He threw his keys into the bowl with a little too much force and sighed heavily.

"Hey, are you going to make dinner?" he muttered under his breath, without even looking at you, staring at the ground as he removed his work boots by the door. "Oh yeah, of course. Shall I just shine your shoes when I'm there, master?" You snarked at him and laughed, not really thinking he was being serious. When you looked up from your laptop, he was staring at you blankly, the question hanging in the air.

"You know I worked a full day too, right? You said you would be home for Seven, so I took Sarah to the mall, picked up her new soccer kit, and then drove her to and picked her up from practice. It got late, so I made something quick for her. I thought we could get takeout when you got back, and you know it wouldn’t hurt for you to cook once in a while, Miller." You laughed, still working away on your laptop, and when no response came, you paid no mind to the back and forth.

"Yeah, and I'm sure there were plenty of better things you would have rather been doing," he muttered under his breath again, clearly intending for it to be loud enough for you to hear in the small living room that joined the kitchen. Your eyes snapped up as you heard the door to the fridge being yanked open with enough force to knock the condiment bottles from their shelf inside the door. Smashing as they met the cold tiles of the kitchen floor.

"God fucking dammit," he cursed. Joel is known for his colourful vocabulary, but this one caught you off guard. What has gotten him so riled up in the five minutes he has been in the house? You stood up and marched into the kitchen, leaving your laptop on the middle seat of the sofa, watching as he stepped over the mess by the fridge and opened the cupboard under the sink for the cleaning supplies. Still not looking at you.

"What is up your ass this evening?" You asked, irritably, as the prospect of a quiet night curled into his chest with Chinese food in hand quickly passed you by. "Nothing, don’t worry about it," he pushed past you, barely brushing your shoulder in his passing. He had yet to look at you. "I get it! You had a shitty day at work, but you don’t need to take it out on me!" You huffed as you walked around the small, worn dining table the three of you usually share your meals.

"Work was fine," he spat. You bent down to help him pick up the glassy mess, but he flinched back from you, bolting to his feet and crossing to the trash can on the other side of the kitchen in two long strides. He threw the jagged shards of glass into the bin with enough force that it rocked from side to side. You have seen Joel angry on plenty of occasions. If things mess up at work. If Tommy needs to be bailed out of jail for the umpteenth time. He has never been this angry, not with you anyway.

"What’s wrong?! And what did you even mean by ‘I'm sure there were plenty of better things you would have rather been doing’ Joel?!" You asked as you deepened your register to mimic his voice and his earlier statement. "Oh, I think you know what I mean," he laughed out with no trace of humour, his voice like ice. There was the beginning of a pit in your stomach, telling you that something was very wrong here. He has never in the four years you have been together, spoken to you like this. Not even remotely close to it.

"Okay, I really don’t understand what is happening here. Is there something you want to get off your chest?! Have I done something to piss you off or something?" You questioned, throwing your arms up in the air, letting them fall to your sides with an audible snap as your hands connected with your jean-covered thighs. You wracked your brain for something, anything, that would explain the way he was acting towards you. You came up blank. He was fine when he left for work this morning, you had to pry his strong arms from around your waist as he trailed tender kisses up your neck, making you wiggle your behind against him. Giggling and telling him if he didn’t leave now, he would be late for work. He left you in bed with a "To be continued" purred into the shell of your ear.

You could feel your temper bubbling under the surface now, threatening to spill over as you take deep, measured breaths, trying your best not to lose it on him. This didn’t make any sense. He was glaring at you from across the room, chest heaving with angered breath. You could see the strain in his arms as he stood ridged, gripping the kitchen counter as if it were the only thing tethering him to the earth. You were worried he would snap it with the way his knuckles turned white as bone under the force.

"I mean, why are you even here, (Y/N)?! With me? With Sarah?!, If I'm such a pain in the ass, why don’t you just go? Go find some other fucking guy to play "house" with! I'm sure they will show you a real good time!" The words rushed out of him like a tsunami, sweeping you and the little happy life you had made with him and his daughter right out to sea. It was as if he slapped you, even though you knew Joel would never slap you, or any woman for that matter, because he was raised right. The words still made you stumble backwards, bumping into one of the dining chairs.

You had to hold onto the chair for support. It felt like your legs would buckle under you. Looking into his eyes, you could tell he regrets saying it; he knew he had hurt you in one of the few ways only he could. You know you're not the most maternal woman around. But you adore Sarah as if she were your own child. Right to your very core. You would do anything for her, and you would protect her like a lioness protects her young. Ferociously. She knows that…they both know that, right?

"Is that what you think of me? That I would rather be somewhere else? With someone else? Why would you say that to me?" You choked out, your voice tight around the lump quickly rising in your throat, your voice barely above a whisper. Joel takes a deep breath and releases it in a slow, saddened sigh, like the world is crushing his shoulders with the weight of the words he has just cut you with. He can’t look at you, he won’t. He just stares at the floor as he runs a hand through the mop of dark hair atop his head, just long enough to start curling at the nape of his neck. You have to leave; you have to get out of this kitchen. You feel like the tension in the room will suffocate you if you don’t.

Now you stand in the rain that has just started to mist heavily from the blackened sky. Closing your eyes and tipping your head back and letting the cold rain calm your heated skin, taking in a deep breath, and enjoying the smell of fresh rain on the concrete almost make you smile. Almost. After walking the four blocks around your quiet, deserted neighbourhood, You find yourself outside a bar, deciding that you would rather drown your sorrows in a cheap amber liquid than return to a house where the man you love won't even look you in the eye.

You check the pocket of your jeans, hoping that you didn’t empty them of your change into the bowl on the console beside the door, which held the house's spare change and keys, when you got home from work…to the house that isn’t yours, not really, but before tonight had felt like your home. You shake the thought away immediately; you are tired and don’t want to get emotional in public. You say a silent prayer of thanks to whatever higher power was looking out for you as you fished the two rumpled twenty-dollar bills from your back pocket. Pushing the door to the bar open, you are welcomed by the chatter of happy patrons enjoying their Friday evening.

Opting for a seat at the sparsely occupied bar, you wait patiently for the bartender to be free to serve you. She approaches you with a friendly smile. "What can I get ya?" she asks in a thick Texan accent. It knocks you for six; his face is immediately in your mind, images flashing before your eyes from your first date, vacations spent with Joel, Sarah, and Tommy. Joel comforting you through your father's death, you beneath him between your cotton bedsheets, to his lack of ability to look at you just hours ago.

"Honey? You alright? Can I get you something?" The bartender asked you again, her brows knitted together in concern. You shake your head, trying to physically get rid of the memories that flood your vision. "Uh, yeah, sorry. Can I get a Jamesons…ah, a double on the rocks, please?" You ask, trying not to meet her worried gaze. "Coming right up," you thank her and prop your elbows on the sticky counter of the bar, ignoring the way the sticky sensation makes your stomach churn. Rubbing the heels of your hands into your eyes hard enough that you start to see purple splotches on the inside of your eyelids. You remove your hands when you hear the clink of ice in a glass being set in front of you.

Thanking the bartender again with a small, polite smile, you hand her a twenty, and ask her to keep the change. She thanks you and kindly leaves you to wallow in your thoughts. There is no doubt about how you feel about him. You love Joel like you have never loved before. It is all-encompassing, sometimes you think the depth of your feelings for him could swallow you whole, and the love you have for his daughter is of equal measure. The question that has been circling your exhausted mind for the last few hours comes front and centre again.

"Why? Why would he say what he did? What could have happened to make him doubt your feelings for him? About your little family?" You take another deep, steadying breath as your emotions threaten to overwhelm you again, rubbing your face in your palm while nursing the burn in your throat and rolling the whisky glass in your other. You feel a presence just behind your right shoulder.

"Is this seat taken, Darlin?" a familiar baritone voice asks quietly.

It’s familiar, but it’s not the voice you were hoping to hear…

#joel miller angst #joel x reader #joel x y/n #the last of us fic #tlou fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #pedro pascal characters #joel miller pedro pascal #joel miller hbo

[ohgodnotagainn]

closing time

summary → another night closing the shop at top brews

warnings → swearing, probably some typos in there, coffee shop au, everyone is like 28ish in this

length → 1.1K (a short lil guy)

pairing → robert "bob" floyd x fem reader

a/n → before you ask, yes, i did change the name of the coffee shop from "daily brews" to "top brews." nobody question me, i like this name better moving forward in this universe. i've had a hard time writing recently but i'm excited to dig down and get back into this ever expanding coffee shop au. i love, adore, and appreciate feedback, but as always, be nice or be gone. if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist let me know.

this takes place in the same universe as my other fic "girl in a coffee shop". i recommend reading that first, but it isn't necessary to understand this one.

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Closing time, open all the doors and let you out into the world. You heard the opening lyrics begin to fill the space as you took notice of the time - 5:57. It was a nightly tradition at Top Brews for Closing Time to carry over the speakers, acting as a little nudge to the last few stragglers. 

As you slowly packed up your laptop case, you got a kick out of watching Rooster plead with old Ms. Johnson in a losing battle to get her out the door. Finally, he got her to agree to leave, but not without promising that they’d chat about her cats the following day. Offering his elbow, he helped her up and escorted her to the door - waving her off with a bright smile before locking the door. 

When he turned back around his eyes found yours, “Well, well, well,” he began, clicking his tongue at you, “What do we have here? Don’t you know what time it is?”

Just as you were about to respond, Bob came walking out of the backroom lugging a bin of ice in each hand, “Leave her alone, Rooster.”

“Oh, c’mon, man! Bean knows I’m just messing around,” Rooster gestured to you, “Tell him!”

Your heart lit up at the nickname. The last six months had been a whirlwind and you finally felt like you had earned your place in the squad when you got your own silly name to match the rest of them. It was Bob who initially called you Bean, often reminiscing on the day you two finally owned up to your growing feelings and the trail of coffee beans that lead you there. It wasn’t long before the rest of the team adopted the name and you had the growing suspicion that Fanboy had forgotten your legal name, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

With a laugh, you stood up and linked your arm through Rooster’s, “No need to worry this time Robby, Tweedle Dum here was only joking.” This time Bob did let out a laugh, shaking his head and beginning to dump the ice into the cooler, “Alright, alright, let’s close this son of a bitch down so we can go home.”

A satisfied grin now sat on your face, only growing wider when you saw the deep frown etching it’s way onto Rooster’s. You unlinked your arms and slapped him on the shoulder, “Oof, better luck next time! I’ll go get the mop while you get started on sweeping - I’ll help you with the lobby since I’m feeling extra nice tonight.” 

As you were walking towards the backroom, you could hear Rooster grumbling, “Oh, sure, I see how it is. I can’t bully Bean but Bean can bully me?” You were tempted to turn around and continue poking the bear, but you thought better of it - the more time you wasted now, the less time you’d have later with Bob. So, you just giggled to yourself and kept on walking. 

You were watching the water filling the mop bin when suddenly you were hit with all the forgotten things you still had to get done tonight. The smile that was on your face dropped off with the realization that you probably wouldn’t have time to stop by Bob’s house as you had originally planned - your to-do list filling up just as fast as the mop bin. You gripped the mop handle a little tighter with a scowl on your face.

Coming back from filling up the cooler, Bob quietly set the ice bins on top of the machine and took in your tense disposition for a moment before softly asking, “What did that mop ever do to you?” Your eyes met his, the stress slipping from your frame and your vice grip easing up. With a straight face and a blunt tone, you quipped back, “It killed my father.” 

The sound of Bob laughing filled the kitchen as he set the mop aside and wrapped you in his arms, letting his chin rest on your head, “God, I love you, Bean.” It was silent between you two for a moment before he continued, “Now do you want to tell me what’s really going on? I helped your dad fix his truck this morning so I’m pretty sure this mop is innocent,” he prodded.

His heart was thrumming against your ear, reminding you that you wouldn’t be falling asleep on his chest to the same sound later that evening. Your heart sank lower as you answered quietly, “I forgot I have a bunch of laundry and other chores I need to do tonight,” with a sigh you continued, “I think I’m going to have to raincheck coming over tonight.” 

Bob was silent again, his eyes fixed on the handwashing signage behind your head. 

“Move in with me.”

His head didn’t move from it’s spot on yours - the nonchalance of it all catching you off guard. 

You pulled back to look him in the eyes, desperate to know if he was being serious or not, “What?”

“Move in with me. Move in with me so that we don’t have to waste anymore nights doing laundry alone when we could’ve been doing it together,” he said, tucking the loose strands of hair behind your ears and running his thumbs along your cheekbones. 

“Okay,” you whispered. “Yeah?” he asked, his own smile growing rapidly. 

“I’d love to, if you’re absolutely sure, I’d love to,” you responded, feeling more sure about the decision with every passing second. 

“I’m absolutely, 100%, sure,” he continued, “In this life, I would really like doing laundry and taxes with you.” You felt butterflies swarm as you responded through a fuzzybrain, “You need to stop watching Everything Everywhere All at Once so much.“

“Not a chance,” he said, before closing the gap between you and letting his lips melt into yours. 

“Bean are you going to help me with the lobby or wha- woah there! Talk about something the health inspector wouldn’t appreciate,” Rooster said as he dramatically threw his hands over his eyes and walked backwards out of the kitchen. 

“I guess we better get back out there, huh?” Bob said. 

“I guess we better, Mr. Boss Man,” you winked at him, “We’ll talk more about the details later - but I’m really looking forward to doing laundry and taxes with you too.” Without another word, you grabbed the mop bucket and began wheeling it out of the kitchen. 

As Bob began counting down the till he couldn’t help but watch as you used the mop handle as a microphone to serenade Rooster - he didn’t even care when he lost his count. Starting from the pennies yet again, he sang under his breath, “I know who I want to take me home.”

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tags:

@wkndwlff @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @starlightstories @aviatorobsessed @accioprocrastination @shanimallina87 @waklman @roosterbruiser @mayhemmanaged @genius2050 @dempy @dakotakazansky @purplevortexx

#robert floyd fic #robert bob floyd x reader #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #robert bob floyd fluff #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #dagger squad #natasha phoenix trace #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #mickey fanboy garcia #rueben payback fitch

[gadriezmannsgirl]

hi boo, could you write something about y/n having skin picking habits (picking at acne, peeling skin off her fingers) and frenkie or Pedri helping her during an episode of it?

sorry if it’s too specific/weird haha

I pick at my acne a lot!😭 I know it's bad but I can't help myself to do it whenever I'm stressed, hope you don't do this to your skin either.... However I need Pedri to help me out with it so here it is.

Btw...THIS WAS THE FIC WINNER!

Stop -P.G8

Summary: During an stressful morning, your boyfriend helps you out with your skin picking habit.

You groaned once more, passing your hands through your face trying to rub the sleep off of it, you stared at your laptop screen, fast-reading the words that laid on your essay document.

"Buenos dias, bonita" You heard your two years boyfriend, Pedro, come inside the living room

You yawned before replying "Buen dia, amor"

"¿Como dormiste?" (How did you slept?) You nod smiling feeling his lips on top of your head

"You know the answer to that" He laughed

"Have you had your coffee?" You shook your head yawning once more

"I got up straight to this laptop" He hummed going to the kitchen "You have training today?"

"I do" He says "in the evening though" His voice sounded far away

"Can we go outside to have some lunch?" Without realizing it, you started rubbing your forehead not being able to find how to continue your work.

"Claro que si, amor. Do you wanna go to that new restaurant?"

"Sure, let's try it out. Meli says it's nice and the food's good"

"That we have to prove it by ourselves" He came back with your favorite Mickey Mouse mug, a plate and a big smile on his face. You smiled back at him.

He sat down next to you, pushing his chair closer to yours and kissing your lips for the first time in the morning.

"What are you doing?"

"Ensayo" (Essay) You replied with your mouth full of the beard with strawberry jam he putted into them.

"Hablar con la boca llena es malo" (Talking with your mouth full is bad) He mocked your tone as you rolled your eyes at his teasing.

"De igual forma, me amas, tonto" (Either way you love me, silly) He smiled nodding kissing your full of food lips "¡Pedro!"

"What? I don't care about it!" You laugh swallowing your food, you turned your head to the screen shaking your head at your boyfriend's antics "Amor"

"What?"

"Don't pinch your face" He pushed your hand down and away from your face as you turned over to him

"What?"

"You're pinching your face, bonita. Are you already stressed this early in the morning?"

"Your comment didn't helped me"

"I'm sorry" He sighed "Vamos, bonita. Stop doing damage to your pretty face"

"I just can't help it! You know how I get!" He got up and grabbed something before showing it to you

"That's why I brought a hand ball for you to grip it tightly repeatedly whenever you get too stressed"

You sigh "I know you did, amor. I'm sorry, I completely forgot about it"

"Your nails scratch hard, que te lo digo yo" (I'm telling you that) He said as you smirked knowing what he meant from that "I don't want you to damage your pretty face and leave it with scars. It's bad"

"I just can't help it, Pepi" He pushed the ball into your hand

"Bueno, start helping it. You grab this little ball and grip it repeatedly over and over again" You smiled "If I have to stay at home and watch you then I will. We gotta take care of each other, you'll see you'll stop that lil habit of yours"

"Thank you, bonito"

"Don't worry mi amor; health is always at the top of the list, including your facial" You smiled leaning up to kiss him

"Te quiero"

"Y yo a ti" He smiled kissing you back

"¿Cuánto tiempo crees que esta pelota se me pueda dañar por estrés?" (How much time do you think thi ball will end up death from stress?)

"Knwoking you? In five seconds would be off"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

#M. is writing #fc barca #pedri gonzález #pedri x reader #pedri gonzález x reader #pedri fluff #pedri #pedri gonzalez #pedri is damn hot

[pineappleciders]

hello hello hello hi!!!! seeing ur writing rq's are open could I request mari, basil, sunny, and hero with an s/o whos gotta stay in the hospital for a week?? It'd be cool since I had to stay in the hospital for a week diagnosed w a life long illness and . none of my friends visited 😭 have a wonderful silly day!!!!

MARI, BASIL, HERO, and SUNNY with an S/O who's been hospitalized

A/N: HELLO!! i hope you are doing well, being in the hospital SUCKS and i'm so sorry that nobody visited😭😭i hope everything gets better for you, plz stay safe❤️

MARI

she hates it when you aren't doing well,, she'll visit you every day and stay for as long as she can

she'll bring you fresh flowers every time and will always talk w you about anything and everything. she'll tell you how your friends have been and about the grade she got on her quiz ... literally anything in hopes of distracting both you and her of your state

i think she likes to sew so she'll sew you a little blanket or even a plushie to keep you comfort

gets a little upset whenever she has to leave the room ... she's fighting tooth and nail with the doctors to let her in

bakes cookies for you and u two eat them together . honestly if she had it her way you'd be completely under her care but,,, sigghh,,, she supposes that the doctors know what's best.... smh

if you're feeling well enough to eat she'll always help you do so. even if you insist that you can do it by yourself . she's almost like an over-doting mother in some ways

WILL sing/hum you lullabies when you're tired. you cannot refuse. she will also tuck you in and kiss your forehead . just for good measure

BASIL

he can't help but worry . he's honestly pretty anxious knowing you're not doing well but he doesn't show it in front of you ,, he doesn't want to stress you out even more

he'll send you cards every single day that he can't make it in person ,, they have little doodles on them and you can tell they're made with love

he brings you potted plants and tells you all about them. he hopes that it helps you get your mind off of everything for awhile !!

"this is an echinacea, or the coneflower! it's been used for antibiotic and medicinal treatment for centuries. it symbolizes healing and strength. here, it's for you."

he'll hold you hand and you can't help but notice how nervous he gets when doctors come in ... he really doesn't want to leave but he understands

he tries to comfort you during uncomfortable times ... like when you have to get your blood drawn or having to take medicine. he'll smile and tell you that he's proud and that he'll get you ice cream when you're out if you follow the doctor's instructions

HERO

he's always talking about what you two are gonna do together when you get out of the hospital,, like going to a carnival and getting ice cream and how excited HECTOR will be to see you again

he doesn't like seeing you unwell but he tries to stay positive and make the best of it!!!

brings you anything you might need from home. drawing materials? plushies? electronics? your favorite blanket? he has it all

he likes to eat meals with you in your room and just talk about everything. he'll tell you about how everyone misses you and he'll lowkey be trying not to cry in front of you

he wants to cook for you SO BAD but the hospital always has meals set up for you already :( so instead he'll bring you little snacks like cookies throughout the day

doesn't want to leave the room at all,,, he'll bring in a laptop and do his classes online and everything

worried very easily,, always warns you to take it easy and slow down if you're getting up or something. he doesn't mean to be overbearing— he just really wants you to be careful!!

SUNNY

he HATES it god :(( he absolutely hates it when you're sick and hospitalized,, he already hates hospitals so he just. is Not Having a good time

but he doesn't want to make it more stressful for you so he tries his best to be there for you

admittedly might spend more less time with you in the hospital just because he can't stand it. but he tries his best to not be selfish and spend time with you when he can

he's a little embarrassed about it but he'll draw pictures of you and give them to you,, don't talk about it too much or show anyone though, he'll never forgive you

encourages you to take your medicine and eat well,, he's not as overwhelming as MARI or HERO but he still cares a lot, just has a different way of showing it

he'll rant about his interests and stuff that's been going on recently to distract you from everything.. he might get a little bit distracted and rant for the entire night so be sure to tell him when you've had enough

may or may not fall asleep with his head on your bed,,, or your lap,,,, holding your hand,,, mayhaps,,,,,

#omori #omori x reader #mari omori x reader #basil omori x reader #hero omori x reader #sunny omori x reader #omori mari x reader #omori basil x reader #omori hero x reader #omori sunny x reader #omori headcanons #omori fandom #omori game #pineappleciders

[luvly-writer]

XOXO

Ch. 19 Every corner of this house is hunted

-•-

Author's note: There is just something so satisfying about writing angst while listening to sad music. I'll try to not break your hearts too much. Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST Taglist: @w31rdg1rl @mxtokko @loonymoonystuff @grandstrangerphanthom @1lellykins @cangosleepnow @dreamspectrum @its-maemain @tamimemo @nightw-izhu @trasshy-artist @gabriiiiiiii @cassini-among-the-stars Masterlist:

-•-

"What?" Tim was taken a back by what I said, "What do you mean over, Y/n?"

I take a deep breath and exhale, it is a little shuddery. "This entire thing, Tim. Our ruse of being a couple, it is over. We can end it. We aren't tied to each other anymore. We won, right?" you say

Why does it feel like I'm losing then?

"I don't understand," Tim said, "We-"

"We were never a couple, I know, I know, it was just acting jaja! I know that, silly! I..Ok let me clear thing's up. We are done acting of course, you don't owe me anything anymore, you know. You are free too! I mean um, I um, ok give me a break" I panicked. Of course. Y/n don't be dumb. He knows you weren't a couple. He was just acting. He didn't see it the same way I did..

"Do you want to come inside so that we can talk about this better?" He asks concerned.

"No! It's okay, I...uh... have to go, so I..let's.. make this quick. I um, Tim...Thank you, for helping me. You didn't have to, now knowing you better, you could have gotten out of it and found a loophole easily but you still chose to go through with this..with me. Thank you, I have never had so much fun with someone in my entire life the way I did with you and that will always always mean something to me, you will always mean something to me...always, Timmy, and we won, Tim. We won. I am free and OH! So are you! I made sure to delete all the files on you know what and it is all clear, I can bring you my laptop and you can check I have nothing on it. You can finally say it, I am no longer holding something over your head, and we won, Timy, we did a great job, frankly we made a great team and-"

"Wait, wait wait wait, Wait! Y/n Vanderbilt is this you saying goodbye" he said incredulously, "Cause if it is, you are being a real shitty person right now and I know that's not who you are. I know you."

"I don't know," you say dejectedly, "I don't want it to be, Timmy. I appreciate your friendship way too much for me to say goodbye. I lo...I...I care so much about you and want you to be in my life, any way I can have you"

"Anyway?" Tim said, hope in his heart. The last few weeks have been fucking hell if he were to be honest. He missed her. He missed her scent on his clothes, on his sheets, on his apartment. He missed her touch, her caresses. her lips, her hands on his. He missed her so much that he thought he was dying. Dick and Jason like to call him lovesick because of how much he was moping. It's funny how two months can make someone become such a strong part of your routine. He missed talking with her before going to sleep. Whether it was by phone when she was in her apartment, or in person when she stayed at his, the point is he missed her voice. He had come to terms with how much he loved her after Christmas and was so happy to tell her because he thought it was reciprocated. The way she looked at him, their connection, their conversations, their inside jokes, their trips, the movie nights, it was real. He was a little grateful they hadn't had sex yet...he wasn't sure he would be able to recover if he ever felt her body on his and got to explore and adore every single part of her and then have it taken away. He felt it was real. It was real it had to be. All of that for her to be finally here, frankly he thought she was part of his imagination at first. He had been having so many dreams of her that he couldn't believe it was her at first until she started talking and shattering his heart...but she said she'd have him any way she could right. Ask away, Y/n, I am yours, utterly, completely, from head to toe, from heart to soul, mind and body...please ask.

"OH!" Fuck..He is thinking of a relationship and the way he opened his eyes is telling me he does NOT want it... "You know what I meant, Timmy, as friends! I mean if we can't fake date, why not stay friends. I haven't been able to connect with anyone else like this ever and I...well...you are my first friend who has been such you know a friend! Of course" She said nervously. Dig a hole and bury me in it. I don't want to deal with this..

"Of course, yeah, no no, I definitely got you. Cause you know, you are right, of course" He said sending her a tight smile. "It's alright, we are alright. You know we will always be alright." He says as he feels his chest tightened. Of course. Of fucking Course. She wants to be friends. "This won't ruin us, Angel, I'm still here for you"

Y/n smiled, "And I'm still here for you, you know"

Do you hear that? It is the sound of two hearts shattering. Y/n nods, holding her tears back and whatever is left of her dignity. Tim looks up, holding himself together enough to not show her. They both know the other person is not okay. But would they cross the line? She takes a step back and whispers one soft see you later and gets on the elevator. Tim watches the doors close and closes the door. He places his back on it and slides down, breaking down because fuck his heart hurts and he feels like he is suffocating. For once, he is not drowning himself in work, for once he won't turn to cases to numb the pain. For once, he just wants to let the pain out and feel it because God damn it, she is not his, and every fiber of himself is hers.

Y/n walks back to her car and once the door is closed, she just lets it out. All of the pain, all of the yearning. Her heart is entirely his and she will have to settle for just friends. What a time to be alive. The great Y/n Vanderbilt was brought down all because she liked a boy. Her driver had the decency to give her the privacy to mourn the feelings that do nothing but grow. She gets to her apartment, tears still rolling down the apple of her cheeks. Once inside, she drops all of her stuff and preps a hot bath. She soaked in it, crying until she felt numb. Tomorrow she was going to call the girls, she needed their company.

—•—

Week one:

It had been a week since Tim and her broke their agreement. Everyone close to them knew the truth of it already. They had both made a public statement that they had "broken up" but remained best friends. The public had shared their sentiments, after all, the most beloved couple in Gotham was done. There was no bad blood they assured from both parties. Clara and Satine stayed for a few days and let her mope for a little. Classes were starting soon and she needed to get it out of her system. Dick had assigned everyone to do a routine check-up on Tim. They were taking care of the cases, Wayne Enterprises, and patrol. They too were letting him get it out of his system.

Week two:

Classes had begun. Y/n, having something to distract herself began her routing as usual. Wake up early, eat breakfast, go to class, exercise, do homework, meet with contractors for her new gallery, call Mom, call Aurora, call Charlisse, call Grandma, call Dad, play tennis with Clara, have lunch with Satine, dinner with whoever invited that day. Everyone seemed to be on high alert on trying to take care of her, but she insisted she was fine.

Tim had gotten back to Wayne Business, still not cleared for patrol yet. His secretary, and elderly woman who used to work for Bruce, looked at him with sympathy, it was as if almost everyone did these days. He had been back on taking pills to get his sleep schedule checked again. He had moved to the manor for some time per Alfred's and Bruce's request so that they could make sure he was eating and getting better. He insisted he wasn't a child.

Week Three:

The first time, Tim and Y/n saw each other. She was exiting the same coffee place where they had met. They smiled at each other and made small talk. They never did small talk. They knew the most vulnerable points of each other, they never did small talk. Tim swore she gets more radiant every day. Y/n claims she never noticed how intoxicating his perfume was.

Week four:

They crashed into each other whilst Tim was going on a run through Gotham Central City Park. Satine had taken Y/n to do a yoga session in the park. This time the conversation was less small talk, a few jokes were exchanged even. Has her laughter always been such a melody? Have his eyes always been this blue?

Later in the week, he called her by mistake. They went 3 hours talking on the phone about everything and anything.

Week five:

They spent 4 days in a row talking on the phone at least once a day. He knew her schedule by heart and she knew his patrol route as if it was the back of her hand. Why does talking to you feel like a breathing air after being underwater for too long?

Is it because my lungs are filled by my love for you?

Week six:

They finally made plans to have lunch. The paparazzi caught them and everyone is speculating and hoping for them to get back together. Someone pointed out that the two of them haven't erased their pictures together. Neither have the guts to delete them, neither want to.

They have been seen together more often. Y/n's mother is convinced it is because they are meant to be. They call each other on the phone more often. Tim called her when she was having dinner with Satine and Clara. They both wiggled their eyebrows at her and teased her. She insists they are just friends and is just happy to have him back as her friend. "Friends, my ass" "SATINE!" "She's not wrong."

Why is is that when something happens, you are the first person I want to tell?

Week seven:

He crashed at her place after one rough patrol. They spent half of the night laughing. He was helping her with some of her homework. The way the light hit her eyes and illuminated her face stole his breath away. Have your lips always looked so soft?

She was so close to kissing him quite a few times. His smirk when was able to help her with something successfully made her dizzy.

I'm yours and I'm fine with that.

She finally visited the manor, everyone was elated to have her back. The entire day, everyone was witnessing how obvious and oblivious they were. When are you both coming to your senses and seeing that the love of your life is right in front of you?

That night, as he was walking her to her car, he mentioned that the Wayne's were having another charity ball. He invited her family. It would be their first official appearance as "exes who are now friends". That night, she said yes and kissed his cheek goodbye.

—•—

extras:

One thing Y/n always wanted for Tim was to take care of himself emotionally and that meant feeling his actual emotions instead of analyzing them and shutting them out. He honors her by doing exactly that

He literally worships the ground she walks on, don’t know if you guys have noticed.

Everyone is trying to get them to realize that they are meant to be but they don’t see it. Bruce and William even started to do business together so that Tim and Y/n would realize that they belong together. They are dumbasses cause they didn’t think it through (Tim is not focused on that and Y/n doesn’t want anything to do with the family business). They are dumb your honor, but they mean well.

Aurora, Charlisse, Grandma Margaret and her mom have been throwing hint after hint on how Tim is the perfect fit for her and there is no one else. Charlie and Aurora even got their husbands on board.

The batfam is trying to make a plan for them to get back together. Damian actually came up with the idea because as much as he denies it, he is a child who cares for his older brother and Tim has not been as witty as he normally is so it bothers Damian because they don’t have their normal banter:

#batfamily #tim drake #dick grayson #jason todd #batman #batfam #cassandra cain #alfred pennyworth #stephanie brown #damian wayne #tim drake x fem!reader #tim drake x you #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine #batkids #batfam imagine #batfamily social media #batfam dc #batfam au #batfam x you #batfam x reader #batfamily x you #batfamily x reader #bruce wayne #red robin #dc reader insert #dcau #dc #dc x reader

[jennay]

You were Wearing Converse

Request: Hey bestie! So I have an idea for a request and you can write it however you see fit (I trust you). Maybe reader is a new assistant for Bryan to help takes photos for the shows and Noah starts getting feelings as the tour progresses and gives reader little smiles and goofy faces when she’s taking pictures of him? Maybe it can lead to him getting the guts to ask reader out and they go on a date on an off day.

An: ok first of all I'm nervous. Second of all I love this and I hope you all enjoy. I had pictures for imagination of the photoshoot but the links weren't working 😭 thanks for bearing with me. If you want to be added to the tag list let me know.

Heres the picture of the duck drawing that was mentioned ( I don’t know who originally did it but I love them for it)

Noah Master List

Words are about 3600ish

"You've got to be kidding me." You sigh as you browse through the photos on your laptop.

Bryan leans over to see what you're looking at. He compares his shots with yours. He settles back on the couch and crosses his legs. "Do you think he's doing it on purpose?" He wonders, his eyes studying the image of Noah making a face at you. "He never pulls that crap in my photos."

You keep scrolling, hoping for a decent one. "Every single one." You exclaim, getting frustrated. "This guy."

Bryan chuckles and shuts his laptop. "Damn it, Noah."

You shake your head and smile despite yourself. "If he does this tonight, I'm done." You joke. "I'm just walking off stage, and that's the end for me." You stand up, setting the laptop on the table of the tour bus. "I'm gonna go talk to him about it."

Bryan's eyebrow raises as he watches you head to the door. "Please be good. I don't want to fire you. We've done so good together on this tour, and if you piss Noah off, I'm gonna end up firing you!"

You swing the door open, smirking at Brian, "I'll be me…and we'll see how that goes. It's been nice working with you, just in case." You joke, "I'll wait till the show's over tonight...maybe that's a better idea." You sigh, "I guess I can stay and check the rest of these pictures and see if there's at least something good from the other three."

That night, you felt adrenaline coursing through your veins as you followed the boys on the stage with your camera, capturing their every move as they rocked to the music.

The crowd was roaring, the lights were flashing, and the sound was deafening. You loved every second of it. You crouched low, zoomed in, and angled your shots to get the best views of them.

You moved swiftly and skillfully, dodging the wires and the fans. You made your way to Noah, standing at the edge of the stage, singing passionately. His voice was raw and powerful, sending shivers down your spine.

You snapped a picture of him, and he looked up at you with a grin. He flashed you the cheesiest smile he could manage, showing his teeth. His eyes sparkled with mischief and joy. You couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling a warm flutter in your chest.

Noah fucking Sebastian was a different person when you were behind the lens. He put on a show for Bryan's pictures, acting tough and cool. He flipped him off, smirked at him, and glared at him with dark eyes. He wanted to look badass for the photos, fans, and image. He played the role of the rebellious rock star perfectly.

But when it came to you, he let his guard down. He was more relaxed and silly. He made faces, winked at you, and stuck his tongue out. He didn't care about looking perfect for you. He just wanted to make you laugh. Half of your pictures were too goofy or blurry to be used for Bryan's Instagram posts or the Bad Omen's official account. But you didn't mind. You cherished those moments of genuine connection with him.

You shook your head, moving out of the way and to Jolly's corner. You could usually get pictures of him without any sass. He was more serious and focused than Noah, but he still had his charm. That was until tonight.

Tonight, he seemed to be in a playful mood as well. He joined Noah in making funny faces and gestures at you, trying to distract you from your work.

You looked across the stage to Bryan, who motioned for you to come closer to him. He had a smirk on his face that told you he had something planned. You wondered what he was up to.

Your eyes met Jolly's again, and you got the perfect shot of him and Noah standing beside each other. They looked like brothers in arms, ready to take on the world with their music. The only downfall? Their tongues were out of their mouth once again.

They looked like two kids having fun, not two grown men performing for thousands of people.

"Fuckers." You muttered as you jogged over to Bryan.

He pointed to Folio, and you nodded without asking questions; you knew Bryan would test your theory. He stayed closer to Noah and Jolly while you stayed near the drummer and bassist, snapping some of the best pictures you've taken the whole tour.

When you turned around, Noah was standing somewhat beside you. He winked in your direction, making your heart skip a beat. You felt entranced by him as he walked closer to you, melting with each smile he gave you. You took that as an opportunity to snap a few pictures of him up close.

For once, he cooperated and gave a fierce look that matched his voice and attitude on stage.

In the pit of your stomach, you felt a weird fear like Noah suddenly turned into a fire demon, brown eyes now black as he danced around the flames. His back faced you as he gave deathly growls into the mic, sending chills down your spine.

As the night ended, you felt better knowing you had a few shots that Bryan could use for his social media posts and promotions. You could save these for your portfolio and some personal memories of this fantastic night with Noah and the rest of the band.

You smile as you watch Noah address the crowd of people who have gathered to see the show. He thanks them for their support and tells them how much he loves them.

The house lights flip on as he and the rest of the band walk off the stage, leaving behind a trail of cheers and applause. You and Bryan are waiting for them at the back, ready to pack up and head to the next city.

Noah quickly walks over to you, his face glistening with sweat and his chest heaving with breaths. He still has that adrenaline rush in his veins, making him look more alive than ever.

"What did you think?" He asks you, smirking as if he already knows the answer.

"I think I'm happy you finally let me get some good shots and let me do my job." You say, playfully pushing his chest with your camera. "You're kind of a pain in the ass, you know that?" You tease him back.

Noah laughs, pushing his hair out of his face with his hand. His brown eyes sparkle with mischief and charm. "So I've heard." He says, leaning closer to you.

You can smell his cologne mixed with his sweat and feel a flutter in your stomach.

You want to be mad at him, but you can't. You've only known him and the band for this tour, but you feel a good connection with them. They're honest and genuine, unlike other artists you've worked with. They don't live off the drama of the industry; they just love making music and sharing it with their fans. And Noah... he's something else.

He's talented, charismatic, funny, and sweet. He always makes you laugh or blush with his jokes and compliments. He's also incredibly handsome, with messy hair, a stubbled chin, and muscular tattoed arms. You've caught yourself staring at him more than once and noticed him doing the same.

You give him one last smile before turning around to leave. You have a lot of work to do before the next show, and you don't want to keep him from his friends or fans.

"See ya later, Noah." You say over your shoulder.

As you turn around, you feel a gentle tug on your wrist, stopping you from moving forward.

"Wait," Noah calls out.

You turn around again, looking up at him with curious eyes. What could he possibly want? You wonder.

"Go out with me tomorrow." He stammers out anxiously, his eyes darting around the room. His face flushes with a deep crimson as he realizes what he just said. He looks at you with a hopeful expression, waiting for your answer.

Your eyes widen with surprise, your mouth dropping open. He was flirtatious with you, but you thought that was part of his charming personality.

You never expected him to ask you out on a date. "Me?" You gasp in disbelief, pointing at yourself. "No." You nervously laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. Your eyes widen even more when you realize what you said and quickly correct yourself. "I mean, yes. Sorry." You laugh again, feeling awkward and embarrassed. "I'm tired. I'm gonna go now. I'll see you tomorrow." You say, holding your camera close to your chest and rushing away from him.

You were getting bored waiting for Noah to return. He wasn't late, but you were growing impatient, wondering what he had planned for the night. You had been on tour with him for a while now, and you were looking forward to spending some quality time together.

You looked around the room, trying to find something to do. Your eyes landed on a little yellow duck beside a Sharpie on the coffee table. You had an idea, one that might keep you entertained till Noah got back.

You sat on the couch inside the tour bus with your legs up to your chest, drawing on what you assumed was a toy duck a fan had probably thrown to one of the guys. You wanted to make it look as much like Noah as possible. You swiped on some scribbles for hair and his tattoos. You didn't consider yourself an artist, but you felt like it would get the point across.

As you drew, you thought about all the fun times you had shared with Noah. You remembered the first time you met him and how he had made you laugh with his silly jokes. You thought about all the adventures you had been on together and how much he meant to you.

You hear the bus door open and footsteps closer to you before Noah stands before you. "Whatchya got there?" He asks while pointing to the duck.

"Oh," you laugh, "I was just drawing." You set the Sharpie down and toss the small rubber duck to Noah.

He chuckles, turning the duck around to observe all the markings. "Is this supposed to be me?" he holds the duck up to his face and smiles softly. "Pretty much twins."

You both laugh as Noah sits down beside you on the couch. "Have you been waiting long?"

"No, I just got here a few minutes ago. Long enough to do my art project." you smile brightly. "So what's the plan, Romeo?"

"Well," he drapes his arm over your shoulder, "Matt's letting us use his rental for the night. I signed up for a cooking class, so there's the food part. Anything you want to do?"

You shrug. "I'm bringing my camera," you say, pointing to the table. "Maybe a little photo shoot is in order because with all the bullshit photos you've given me…. I deserve at least that." You giggle.

He nods knowingly, "OK, but I get to take some of you too. It's only fair."

You roll your eyes at him, "I don't know about that. Maybe if you're lucky, should we head out or?" You stand up, looking down at your casual clothing. "Am I dressed appropriately?"

Noah leans forward, a smile on his face. "If you aren't dressed appropriately, then I sure as fuck need to change."

You shake your head and let out a giggle. "You look good. You always do."

He stands up and follows you to the door, "Stop it." He blushes and tries to hide his face in his sweater. "Let's get out of here."

The drive to the cooking class wasn't awkward like you thought it would be. You spent a significant amount of time laughing and giggling like normal. Noah let you choose the music that surprised you, mainly because he made fun of everything you listened to. He listened with a smile, promising he wouldn't criticize your singing voice. He encouraged you to dance with him and act like an idiot.

As you both arrived at the cooking class, you felt a sense of excitement and anticipation. You were both eager to learn something new and have fun together. Noah was the perfect partner for this adventure.

He was charming, witty, and always knew how to make you laugh.

Throughout the class, you worked together, chopping vegetables, stirring sauces, and tasting each other's creations.

Debating which was better, you swore it was his, but he denied it, claiming yours was better. You were the more experienced one, after all.

You were thrilled to get your chance to shine finally. You had been waiting for this moment for so long. Photos. Photos that he promised you as compensation for all the crappy shots he forced you to take on stage.

"Oh, I see. You just want to keep a collection of my photos to stare at when I'm not around." He jokes as he follows you down the street.

"I want photos to show that I'm a damn good photographer and I didn't waste a year taking lousy photos of the lead singer," you retort, chuckling. "Come on." You gesture to the dim alleyway.

Noah stays close behind you and rests against the brick wall. His eyes drift to your side, and his jaw drops slightly. "A cat." He points under the fire escape, and instantly, you lose his focus.

You observe as he approaches the cat, making some sounds to attract its attention, and the cat seems fearless, allowing Noah to lift it without any mistrust of humans.

You grin as you witness the two, who have hit it off right away. "How did you-" You hoist the camera and capture a quick shot of Noah and the cat he names Layla. "I can't believe it just let you snuggle up. Noah, you're like a fairy tale hero." You tease, clicking another photo, this time nearer to the two.

Noah smiles from ear to ear, petting the cat. He inches closer to you, leaning in; he lets you pet his new pal. "She's adorable."

You reach out gingerly, "How do you know it's a she, could be a he, maybe it's Leo, not Layla…" You joke while peeking at him, smiling and concealing the grin that wants to show.

"He or she…is very adorable." He corrects himself, making the adorable part sound ironic. "OK, Snow White. It's getting dark can we get a few more shots?"

He looks at you with sandness, letting the cat down. He walks to the brick wall next to you and gazes at you with curious eyes, "Here?" He says, halting in front of the area of the building that has red and green vines crawling across the walls.

You nod, looking while raising your camera. "Take your sweater off." You say, squatting down.

"Trying to undress me now?" He chuckles but follows your request and flings his sweater at you.

"Noah!" You gasp as the sweater softly lands on your face. "You almost made me drop my camera." You fling the sweater over your shoulder, catching a whiff of his cologne. You back away a little, pressing the button to take the photos. "You're really loyal to the band, huh?" You point to his shirt that displays his band logo.

"Always loyal." He mockingly rolls his eyes, "It's not like I have a lot of options, y/n." He turns his head as if to spot something on the far horizon, and you seize this chance to snap a few more photos. He looks intense, and this man claims he doesn't have good angles; what a joke that was.

Suddenly, you hear a loud siren and see flashing lights bouncing off the walls.

A police car pulls up next to the alleyway, and a cop steps out. "Hey! What’re you doing here?" He shouts, walking towards you.

You freeze in panic, clutching your camera. Maybe the alleyway was a little suspicious at this time of night.

"We're just taking some photos, officer. Nothing illegal." He says, trying to sound calm.

The cop looks at you suspiciously, then at the cat under the fire escape. "Is that your cat?" He asks, pointing at it.

You and Noah exchange a glance, then shake your heads. "No, sir. We just found it here. It's very friendly." You say, hoping he won't ask any more questions.

The cop nods, then looks at your camera. “What do you got there?”

Noah steps in front of you as if he knows what will happen next and feels the desire to protect you from something happening to you. "We're not doing anything wrong here, right?" He questions.

The cop frowns, then looks at Noah's shirt. "Are you in a band?" He asks curiously.

Noah nods, smiling slightly. "Yes, sir. I'm the lead singer of Bad Omens."

The cop's eyes widen in recognition. "Bad Omens? My daughter is a huge fan of yours. She has posters of you guys all over her room." He says enthusiastically.

Noah laughs nervously, then looks at you. You smile back at him, feeling relieved.

The cop seems to have forgotten about the photos and the cat. He pulls out his phone and shows you a picture of his daughter holding an album of Bad Omen's from 2016. "Can I get an autograph for her? She would be so happy." He asks eagerly.

Noah agrees and signs his name on a piece of paper, writing a nice message, "Thanks for being a fan otherwise your dad might have arrested me."

The cop laughs at what he's written and thanks him profusely. "You two have a good night. And be careful around here." He says kindly, then gets back in his car and drives away.

You and Noah let out a sigh of relief, then burst into laughter. You can't believe what just happened.

You look at him with a mix of admiration and disbelief. "What the hell just happened?" You whisper, your voice is still shaky from the adrenaline rush. "That was…I don't even know what to say. That was insane."

Noah's eyes are wide with shock. He grabs your hand and pulls you out of the dark alley, away from the scene of your mischief. "Let's get out of here." He says, his voice urgent.

You nod wordlessly, following his lead as he walks quickly to the car. You feel his hand warm and firm in yours, and you squeeze it for comfort. "Noah?" You murmur, looking up at him.

He turns his head to you with a gentle smile, his eyes softening. "What's up?"

"You're holding my hand…" You point out, lifting your linked fingers. You feel a flutter in your stomach as you see him blush.

He clears his throat, "Oh, right, sorry. Do you mind?" He asks, looking nervous.

You shake your head, "No, it's sweet…" You say, smiling back at him. You spot a bench near the lake and point to it. "But I think we need to talk about this and what it means." You say, feeling serious.

He nods and follows you to the bench, sitting close to you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. "OK," He says, crossing his legs casually. "Let's talk." He says, grinning at you.

You take a deep breath, "Well, what happens after the tour ends? We live in different states and I travel for work just like you do for different musicians. I'm never in one place." You say, feeling worried.

He sighs heavily, "I've been thinking about this before I asked you out… How about you become a full-time member of the crew? You and Bryan are amazing and you don't disrupt our show. You do your work and you don't cause any trouble." He says, sounding hopeful.

He tilts his head to gaze into your eyes, anxiety flashing in his. He waits anxiously as you press your lips together and nod. "OK, well, I love that idea but, I have anxiety and I need to know this is realistic with us living in different states." You say, feeling uncertain.

He shrugs, "I think we can make it work if we really care. We can communicate and see each other. It's not hopeless." He says, sounding confident. "I've thought about this since the first time I met you." He admits.

"You don't remember the first time you met me! Lies." You giggle.

He smirks as he stares you in the eyes. "You were wearing converse and that cute ass summer dress. You came in to the studio and I almost had a heart attack."

You look at him with a shy smile, feeling your cheeks heat up. He leans in slowly, his eyes locked on yours. He brushes his lips against yours softly and gently. You close your eyes and kiss him back, feeling a spark in your heart. He wraps his arms around you and deepens the kiss, making you melt in his embrace. You run your fingers through his hair and pull him closer. He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours.

"I really like you, Noah." You say, feeling happy. "But I'm terrified."

He smiles and kisses your nose. "I really like you too." He says, "I'm terrified, but at least we can feel like this together." He teases. "We'll make it work. I have a good feeling about it."

You snuggle with him on the bench allowing his arms to wrap around you and watch the stars twinkle on the lake. You decide to follow your heart and see what happens. In the long run, you knew this would be worth it. Noah was worth it.

Tags: @thisbicc @yumikitten @lma1986 @chemicallady @a-villain-vying-for-attention

#noah sebastian x y/n #noah sebastian oneshot #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #noah Sebastian x you

[straykuds]

SKZ love confessions (hyung version) pt. 1

Genre : fluff, friends to lovers.

........................................

Chan

Falling for your best friend was one thing you'd never expected. You've known Chan since you were both ten but during those times, you've only seen him as your silly best friend. There was no denying that he was indeed attractive and you felt so damn lucky to have him in your life.

It was late at night when you decided to pay Chan a visit to his studio with some snacks, knowing fully well he'll be there since he was such a workaholic. Opening the doors to his studio, you found him working on another masterpiece on his laptop, headphones over his ears, completely oblivious to your presence.

You decided to sneak up from behind him by tickling his sides which was such a silly idea but you did it anyway but your plan failed when he didn't react. You'd forgotten how he felt nothing when someone tickled him. Instead, he turned to look at you and a huge smile plastered on his face. He gently removed the headphones and placed it on his neck.

"y/n, what a pleasant surprise" he beamed.

" man, I was really hoping to get some reaction from you" you pouted. He laughed then opened his arms for you. You rolled your eyes then allowed yourself to be engulfed in his arms but then, he used that opportunity to let you sit on his lap which you didn't complain about, knowing it wasn't the first time you've been in this kind of position with him but the butterflies in your stomach swarmed around and you had to stop yourself from blushing.

" so, what are you working on?" You asked, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing at how close the both of you were.

" wanna listen to it?" He proposed to which you agreed instantly. Chuckling, he put the headphones over your ears, letting you listen to the piece he was working on and as always, you loved it but then you noticed that it was a love song, sang by him alone.

" woah, that's incredible. You're so talented" you complimented him and poor guy let out the cutest giggle ever. You found yourself being absolutely whipped for him.

" Wanna know a secret?" He said, while staring into your eyes. You nodded, although a bit anxious because of how serious he'd become all of a sudden. He leaned in and whispered to your ear " I wrote the song about you" you felt the tingles in your skin and your cheeks heated up instantly.

He smiled, seeing your reaction.

"me?" You asked, pointing to yourself to which he nodded.

" Everything you listened to in the song is how I feel about you" he confessed.

" Chan-"

" I love you, Y/n. For a long time, I've always had my eyes for you and you alone"

" Chan-"

" I'm sorry if it's so sudden but I just had to tell you how much I felt about y-"

You cut him off by placing your lips on his. His eyes widened in shock at your sudden action but within a second, he closed his eyes and kissed you back, his hands resting around your waist. Pulling away, you stared into his eyes.

" can I talk now?" You asked him, quietly. He gave you a 'go ahead" nod. " I feel the same way about you too. I love you too, Chan"

He smiled widely then gave you another passionate kiss. Safe to say, the butterflies did not stop flying around your stomach.

Lee know

Cooking with Lee Know was either fun or a mess, sometimes both depending on how you guys decide to treat each other for the day. Today was a lazy day for you, so here you were sitting on the counter, while watching him cook. You entertained him with silly stories, gossips and whatnots and you appreciated how much he listened to you.

You'd known each other for three years ever since y'all became roommates, sharing the same apartment. At the beginning, you two were not so fond of each other but as time went by, you found out he wasn't as bad as you thought. But lately, you've been feeling a little conflicted by your feelings. You kept reminding yourself not to fall in love with your roommate but as the saying go 'the heart wants it wants'.

You reminded yourself that he had no feelings for you so you decided to keep your feelings to yourself, not ready to be rejected if you ever told him how you felt.

But then as you were talking to him, you remembered how people used to complain about how much you talked and that instantly made you insecure, so you kept quiet.

Lee know noticing this, stopped what he was doing and looked up at you with furrowed eyebrows. " Why'd you stop?" He pointed out.

" I don't want to bore you with all my mindless talk" you noted, chuckling nervously.

" who said you were boring me?" He asked. You stared at him, confusion evident on your face. "Keep talking. I love listening to you" he said, softly.

This was the first time someone had ever said this to you and the fact that it was coming from him made you feel some type of way.

" I don't know if you know this..." He said, coming closer to you in between your legs while his hands rested on the table on your both sides. He stared into your eyes, as if he was fascinated by them. "but I love the sound of your voice. I want to hear you talk to me everytime and everyday."

You found yourself tearing up to his words. This was all so new to you.

" Can I kiss you?" He asked and you were absolutely shocked by his request. Nothing could have prepared you for the question but not wanting to ruin this moment, you nodded.

You wrapped your arms around his neck while his arms wrapped around your waist. The gap between you two closed as your lips met. At that moment, it felt like it was just the two of you in the world. Sparks flew and your heart raced.

After you pulled away, he smiled. "You have no idea how much I've wanted to do that" he mentioned.

Before you could reply to him, you smelt something funny. " you might wanna check on the food"

His eyes widened and immediately rushed to turn the stove off. You bursted into laughter at the now burnt food.

"Pizza?" He suggested.

"Pizza." You laughed.

Changbin

Movie nights with Changbin was the most anticipated moment you've always looked forward to because you get to use him as a cuddle bunny. Tonight, you guys had decided to watch The Princess and the Frog, one of your favorite Disney classics.

Safe to say, you two were so ready for movie night together as you were surrounded by various types of snacks to enjoy while watching the movie.

Each time it got to the musical parts, you always found yourself singing your lungs out, not minding if your singing was bad and Changbin never failed to laugh at your silly antics. At a point, he'd record you singing without you knowing. Unknown to you, he found it cute that you were comfortable expressing yourself around him.

When it got to the end scene where Tiana and Naveen kissed, you felt yourself blush. You were quite aware of the crush you've had on your best friend for a long time but you never had the courage to tell him how you felt, with the fear of not wanting to ruin your friendship.

You heard Changbin whisper your name. The moment you looked up at him, he leaned in, his soft lips meeting yours for a brief kiss. Pulling away, you were stunned for a moment and looked at him with shock. He had a smirk on his face while looking at the TV now.

" it's rude to stare, angel" he smirked. Your face turned red and you looked back at the TV with the biggest smile on your face. Now, you were convinced that he indeed felt the same way as you did. Best night ever.

Hyunjin

Today was the day you were gonna find out what had kept your best friend so busy for the past few days that had made him ignore you and why he was so cooped up in his studio.

Without informing him, you came over to his apartment. He gave you an extra key card because of the trust he had in you so you basically had access to his apartment. You called out his name. "Hyunjin?"

Not getting a response, you assumed that he wasn't home yet. So, you decided to check out his studio to see what he's been working on so far.

As usual, it was full of his paintings and drawings. You stared at each of them in awe. You were so glad to have an amazing and talented best friend as Hyunjin. You never got tired of his art because he knew how to create beautiful pieces.

As you looked around, one canvas that was covered with a white cloth caught your eye. Your curiosity taking over, you decided to check it out. You slowly raised the cloth, careful not to ruin his masterpiece but then you gasped at the portrait in front of you. He'd painted a picture of you, even paying attention to small details you had.

Then you noticed a writing below the painting. You looked closely and awed at the beautiful words written.

You'll forever be my always

"y/n?"

You turned around to see standing Hyunjin behind you. You wasted no time in wrapping your hand around his waist and resting your head on his chest. He hugged you back and rubbed your back.

" I guess you found my gift for you" he chuckled.

You looked up at him and smiled. " you've always been my always"

" I love you, y/n" he confessed, staring into your eyes. "You have no idea how much my heart beats for you. Call me a hopeless romantic but I'm hopelessly in love with you"

" I love you more, Hyunjin"

" that's impossible. I love you the most" he protested. You giggled at his dramatics then got on your tiptoes and kissed him to which he returned without hesitation.

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #kpop boys #stray kids as boyfriend material #kpop aesthetic #lee know #hyunjin #bang chan #changbin #skz fluff #skz #skz headcanons #stray kids headcanons #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #love