#the way she was the last to join the agency and could be the one to save them all now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tigerf00d · 9 months

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UNBEARABLE

George Karim x Fem!Reader

Tags: Smut! Aged up characters obv :), no use of y/n, all of Lockwood & Co., Brief Quill Kipps interaction.

6.7k words

a/n: I love George and just had to get in on the fun.. crossposted on ao3 as well, so if you've come from there and already read this, hi!

George Casper Karim was unbearable. There’s simply no other way to put it.

His big stupid head was always getting in your way, correcting you, and complaining when you forgot who took the biscuit last and helped yourself. You could hear him in your head, “Really, you ought to have gotten it by now!”

But oh, how you loathe to admit that you needed him, how helpful it was when he ironed your clothes before a client came round, and the comfort of coming home from a particularly draining case to warm food placed wordlessly in front of you.

And he could be sweet. He could. As uncomfortable with touch as he was, he’d brush your shoulder with his hand if he could tell you really needed it; he’d stand close on cold nights walking home, Lockwood and Lucy would too, but they readily shared their space like that, George didn’t.

It didn’t help that sometimes you’d catch yourself watching his side profile as he researched or the quiet admittance that he looked like an Angel as the sun illuminated his hair in a halo of curls as he helped you up after tripping and landing on the pavement, even though he was laughing at you.

There were just no other words. He was unbearable. You had the inability to bear him.

You wanted to take him by the shoulders and shake him so hard his world spun so he could feel just a fraction of what he did to you. Shrink him down, trap him in your pocket, and feed him to his heart’s content so he is always warm, safe, and happy. Ugh, he was just the worst. Ever.

So it’s safe to say you have no idea why you agreed to this.

Rotwell’s was holding its annual celebration, and Lockwood & Co was invited. Well, most of Lockwood & Co, Skull obviously couldn’t come, no matter how annoyingly they asked. Despite the agency not being in any immediate danger, for once, Lockwood still deemed it essential to be partially undercover to try and snoop out new cases that were particularly interesting (read: dangerous, life-threatening or otherwise malignant), and for some reason that meant George and you had to be a couple for the evening.

Anthony Lockwood wouldn’t get to be a ghost. You were sure of it. He was going straight to hell. Sorry, Luce.

“I’m going to die.” The pillow muffled your voice as you lay face down in Lucy’s bed,

“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“It’s not like you’ve had to pretend to date one of them, Lucy.”

“Well…”

You stared at the girl opposite you, “He’s… done this before…?”

She nodded solemnly, betrayed by her eyes sparkling with mirth. Groaning, you rolled back over.

“Did you have to be with George?”

“No, mine was with Lockwood.”

Deep down, you refused to admit that that made you pleased. If she had said otherwise, it might have stoked useless jealousy in the pit of your stomach.

After a moment, you sat up, nodding and looking at what was prepared for tonight. You thankfully had a nice dress already, a velvet cranberry coloured thing with mesh sleeves that opened at the elbow and draped elegantly. It'd been a gift as congratulations on joining the agency and moving out from your family. Lucy had painted your nails with some sheer iridescent polish, matching the shine to the silver on your accessories.

George’s outfit remained to be seen, but the way Lockwood smiled when you showed what you’d be wearing, it matched somehow.

“Uhm, Luce?”

“Yes?”

“What– what is that?”

That was the two-piece set on top of your dress, but it was clearly meant to be worn beneath.

“Oh.” She smiled awkwardly, “There was a two-for-one sale.”

“I see.” Accepting this, you picked the garments up, and she turned back to fixing her makeup. “How did you know my size?”

She froze.

“Lucy?”

“You aren’t gonna like it.”

“What did you do!”

“You aren’t the… only one that does your laundry.”

George.

You turned to face her fully, “You. You.” The words wouldn’t come out.

“It’s fine! He just checked for me quickly. He probably doesn’t even remember.”

Eyes unblinking, you stared at her. “I don’t think I can do this.” having said that, you flung yourself back onto the bed.

“You don’t even have to wear it, I just saw that the colour I picked out matched your dress, so I put it out for you. Please get up.” She pleaded. “I don’t think I told him what it was for, either,” she was speaking like she was conversing with a wild animal.

Relenting, you got back up. “These feel expensive.”

“Hence the two-for-one,”

“They won’t show under my dress?”

Lucy grinned wolfishly, “The plan is to be hidden until the last moment, so no. They’re pretty comfortable too. I’ve worn mine a few times.”

“Oh ew, Lucy.”

“All I’m saying is it’s a hit for both parties.”

You couldn’t help but make a face.

“Not that George will be seeing them, anyway… but I guess it’s good to be in the right state of mind…”

She dragged out the E in “Exactly.”

✧☽────•⋆°˖⋅✹⋅˖°⋆

You felt pretty. The lingerie did match your dress nicely and fit perfectly, you noted with mixed emotions. And your hair, makeup and accessories all seemed to be working together and playing nicely for once.

“Don’t you two look excellent!” Lockwood said, sidling beside Lucy and giving her an affectionate kiss on the cheek, “Come here; I want to look at you both properly.”

You did as he said, pretending to be doing it unwillingly but feeling very pleased inside.

“Yeah? D’you think it’ll go with George’s?”

“Oh, you haven’t seen him yet, have you?”

You shook your head no, and he turned to holler the other man’s name through the house. George, to his credit, arrived very shortly after. You half expected him to be in a too-big dress shirt and borrowed pants, but you were begrudgingly surprised.

“Oh.” You whispered.

“Oh?” George answered from the doorway.

His suit was a rich burgundy, and while you wore silver, he wore a simple gold chain. The shirt was off-white and a wispy ghost-patterned teal tie.

“You look smart.” You provided.

“I am smart.” He deadpanned.

To that, you rolled your eyes, “You know what I mean. You look good. Clean up well. Whatever,” you averted your gaze and waved your hand in an ‘and so on’ motion. You could feel your face warming, avoiding Lucy’s all-too-knowing expression.

“Ah. Thanks,” and after a moment, he quietly added, “Your dress is nice.”

“Thank you.” You looked up to see his eyes already waiting to meet yours, goosebumps dancing on your skin in reaction.

Lockwood groaned loudly.

“Shut up, Lockwood.” Lucy chided.

“Are they going to be like this all night?”

George broke his gaze first, turning his attention to the taller man. “You’re the one that wanted us to be dating.”

Temporarily throwing your nerves to the wind, you decided that maybe you could have fun with this. You walked to stand beside him, dramatically throwing an arm around him before facing Lockwood and Lucy, “Yeah, what my honey said!”

“My honey?” George questioned, a confused smile on his face.

“We need pet names. If we were really dating, I’d settle for nothing less.” You smiled resolutely, then added. “You don’t like honey? What about… snookums?” He shook his head. “Sweetie pie? Light of my life? My heart? All I hold dearest?” He shook his head no to each one, pausing at my heart, which you would definitely be filing away for later.

“Any normal one like love or babe will do fine, thanks.”

“You spoil my fun, love.”

Distantly, you could hear Anthony retch as Lucy and George sent him twin glares.

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

“Well, you need a pet name too, don’t you?” He asked, and you realised that you hadn’t really put much thought into it. You tried to think back to things on tv or in books.

“Um, I’m not sure. What do you think?”

The pair of you continued to ponder when you stumbled on the memory of when he’d made you both laugh so hard your sides hurt.

You’d gone to Arif’s with him, eating one of the doughnuts as you walked back to 35 Portland Row when you’d unexplainably dropped it and, in your effort to catch it mid-tumble, tripped on a gap in the concrete and fell yourself.

Annoyed and hurt, you’d looked up at George to see him already offering a hand to help you up, but he was laughing. And as much as you wanted to pout, his laughter was infectious. The sun behind his head illuminating the edges of his hair and the sides of his face, which had a chocolate smear and sprinkles on either side of his mouth from his own doughnut, and you couldn’t help but laugh too. The memory made you smile even now.

“What about angel?” You said softly.

“Angel? I can do that.” He nodded, eyes narrowed in curiosity, having noted your mood shift.

With a clap, Lockwood announced, “Great, well, now that that’s settled, we better get going. The gala starts soon, and we wouldn’t want you two lovebirds to miss your first public appearance as a couple.”

You made a face alongside George.

“No… we wouldn’t want that… not at all…”

✧☽────•⋆°˖⋅✹⋅˖°⋆

The gala was bustling. Rotwell’s was flaunting a new hall they had built recently, a temporary centrepiece to the room being a large fountain that was probably meant to be some sort of vase but ended up looking like an urn overflowing.

Standing at the entrance nervously, you felt George’s hand slip into your own, and you tilted your head in silent question, to which he’d shrugged and simply said, “Looked like you needed it.”

You smiled gratefully and began walking in, greeting a few people you only sort of knew and avoiding the ones you wanted to.

“So, what’s the plan again?”

“Lockwood wants us to schmooze, basically. Find out what the top agencies are interested in. Personally, I want to know what technology is coming out soon.”

“Course you do, babe.”

His eyes flicked to yours briefly before focusing ahead once more.

“So…” You started nervously, “Who to speak to first?”

“Rather the devil you know?” He answered, and you saw him nod his head to the left, which made you turn and see Quill Kipps walking straight for you.

You smiled at the offending man before turning to your date and whispering, “Great…” smiling wider when you realised that George held back a snort of amusement.

“Fancy seeing you two here tonight. I don’t suppose Lockwood’s here.”

“He’s around somewhere. Why d’you ask Kipps?”

“Oh, nothing.” He was pretending to be distracted. That much was obvious. “You look good, by the way.”

That was not what you were expecting. You could feel George wrap his arm around your waist, the palm of his hand warm on your hip, and you could tell that the action wasn’t unnoticed by the other man.

“I– Thank you, Quill.”

He nodded, then answered your earlier question,

“I’m surprised he’d let you off without a short leash, is all, after what happened last time.”

The last time he was referring to was you shouting rather angrily at someone holding up the line at the toilets, who happened to be an honoured guest of that event. Not your finest moment, and the reminder caused your cheeks to heat furiously.

“Well, he did, something about my George being able to keep me in line.” You smiled fondly at George as you worked your budding relationship into the conversation.

“Not that they need to be kept in line, anyway.” He added.

“Ah, well.” Kipps nodded in faux disinterest before tacking on, “Never thought someone would go for you, Karim. But I suppose desperate times call for desperate measures.”

George opened his mouth to retort, but you interrupted before he got the chance,

“Excuse you? What did you just say about my boyfriend?”

Quill seemed genuinely surprised at your aggression, floundering to come up with a witty remark as you continued.

“I’ll have you know that your failure to recognise his brilliance is going to bite you in the arse one day. He is more caring, more funny– more intelligent than you will ever be.” You turned to George, who was wearing a similarly surprised expression, “C’mon love, let’s go speak to someone who won’t behave so rudely.”

And with that, you pulled him off to somewhere secluded, shadow barely disguising the two of you as your own expression slipped, revealing your nerves. “Was that ok? I didn’t push it, did I?”

“No, no, you were great. Very believable…” He trailed off, “Did you really mean that?”

“What? Of course, I meant it. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”

He nodded wordlessly, not making eye contact. “Well, it definitely started the rumour mill. At this rate, we’ll be in one of Lockwood’s gossip columns by the end of the week.” You followed his eye line to see Kipps speaking to another agent and glancing at the pair of you, and you groaned, resting your head on George’s shoulder.

“Should we put on a show for them?” There was something about the way he said it that you knew meant trouble.

“You’re starting to sound like our fearless leader.”

He huffed at that, but you could tell it wasn’t without humour.

“Just trust me, yeah?”

You moved your head and looked into his eyes.

“I already do.”

He pulled you until your back was against the wall, and his back was to the crowd. His face was so close now. Had he always had a freckle there? It was so cute… Oh please, please don’t be thinking he was cute right now. You made eye contact, and he smiled reassuringly, murmuring, “Trust me.” His expression went serious once more before leaning down and kissing just below your ear, causing you to make a small noise of pleasant surprise. You felt his lips curve into a smile when he kissed you lower against the side of your neck.

“George.” his name came out more breathily than you had hoped. Another soft kiss, barely grazing the skin this time.

“Yes, angel?”

“I think. I think you’ve made your point.”

“One more for good luck.”

Surprising you with his boldness, he kissed you again before standing up straight and reverted to his usual awkward forwardness.

“I, um, didn’t want to kiss your lips in case that wasn’t alright with you, first.”

“So you… kissed my neck?”

“It’s more intimate than kissing your cheek.” He said as a way of answer.

“True.” You conceded. “And for future reference, I’m ok with kissing as long as you are.”

He nodded but didn’t continue, turning around to the sea of people and searching for the other members of the agency.

“Should we see what the others got up to? Hopefully, they spoke to someone better than we did.”

George did a thin smile before turning back and saying, “I think I can see Lockwood and Lucy.”

“Lead the way.”

As you walked behind him, you couldn’t help but gingerly raise a hand to touch where he’d kissed you last.

“So, how lucky have you two been?” You asked the other couple, and Lucy smirked.

“Not as lucky as you. I saw that.”

“Saw what?” Lockwood asked, and she rolled her eyes.

“Those two necking it in the corner.”

“What?! And you didn’t point it out? How could you, Lucy? I thought we loved each other.”

“I’ll have you know those were tactical kisses.” George butt in.

“Yes. Kipps was rather rude, and Georgie here was displaying gratitude for me defending his honour.”

Anthony grimaced at the mention of the other agent but brightened again, “Defended his honour?”

“Apparently, I’m caring, funny, and intelligent.”

You were either on fire or just embarrassed.

“Why’d you go and tell him that? Now he’s going to get a big head.”

“Bigger than yours?” You quipped, and Lucy smiled. “And it’s true, anyway.” You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

“Hence us ‘necking’ in the corner,” George added. “More fuel for the gossip train.”

“Besides, it’s not like getting kissed was terrible.”

“Oh really?” Lucy raised a brow at you, and you silently tried to blow her up with your mind and then yourself for bringing it up. Out of the corner of your vision, you saw George studying your face.

“And it’s good for our cover.” You deflected, watching her eyes glint as a silent reminder that this conversation was not over.

“You didn’t happen to bring makeup with you, did you?” Lockwood asked, suddenly distracting you.

“Uh, no. Why?”

“Just that ol’ loverboy may have overdone it.”

At that, you slapped a hand over your neck, “George Casper Karim, did you give me a hickey?” You hissed. Surely you would have noticed, and Anthony was just ribbing you.

George rubbed his neck awkwardly, “I– maybe? I couldn’t tell ‘cause we were in the dark, and now you’re covering it.”

You turned to Lucy and Lockwood with pleading eyes, Lucy shaking with repressed silent laughter.

“He staked his claim.” That was all you got out of her.

Hesitantly you removed your hand and tilted your head to George in resignation.

“Oh yeah, there it is.” He brushed two fingers over the tender spot so casually, in a way that melted your insides had you not been so mortified.

“George!”

“My bad,” he added apologetically.

Lockwood smiled ruthlessly. “Well, now there’s no doubt about who’s dating who.”

“This is maybe the most embarrassed I’ve ever been.”

“I thought the kissing wasn’t so bad.” Lucy teased.

“It wasn’t, but now I’m going to have to cover it up to leave the house.”

“Or don’t.” George shrugged, and you looked at him. That, combined with the continued hold around your waist was definitely another thing to file away, even when in a fake relationship, George was a little possessive. “‘S not the worst state anyone’s ever seen us in.”

“But what if Arif asks?”

Anthony and Lucy stared at you quizzically. Silently asking, ‘That’s what you’re worried about?’

“Just tell him I gave it to you.” he paused as if remembering that the circumstances weren’t exactly common, “For a case.”

You nodded defeatedly.

“I suppose.”

“Besides.” George had that look in his eye. “You’re the one that liked it.”

Causing the others to laugh as you swatted his arm.

“And you didn’t? One more for good luck?” You reminded him. And he smiled in a way that had heat stirring in your belly.

“I think that was the good luck one,” and he touched the side of your neck again before letting the arm fall to his side. And you struggled not to react so visibly that the others would tease you for it, avoiding Lucy’s eyes specifically.

Something in the air tonight was making George cheeky and touchy, and it was turning you into a swooning damsel. To combat this, you rolled your eyes at his smile, turning to your friends and wrapping an arm around George’s as a tether at the same time.

“But really, did you find anything out?”

“Not much, no,” Lockwood answered.

“He’s lying. Someone from Fittes said that Satchell’s is going to be coming out with some kind of iron tape so that we can do perimeters easier. But that’s still in development.”

Your focus drifted in and out as she recounted what they’d learnt, Lockwood and George’s infrequent additions sometimes catching your attention as you gazed at the closest reflective surface you could, trying to catch a glimpse of the lovebite he’d given you.

“Hello? Is anybody home?” Lucy was waving a hand in front of your face.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I asked what you’d thought of going to the archives with George and me tomorrow, research some of that case I was just talking about.”

She’d been talking about a case? Oops.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I think I’m just more tired than I realised.”

She looked at you suspiciously but ultimately relented. “Ok. I’m about done for the night, too. Lockwood?”

“I’m more than happy with how tonight’s turned out. I’ll have to figure out how we can use you two to get more cases.”

You looked at George worriedly and saw him reflect your expression.

✧☽────•⋆°˖⋅✹⋅˖°⋆

The cab ride home made you realise how overwhelming the gala had been, even in the short time you’d been present. When you’d gotten home, you’d changed almost immediately. You truly were tired of being there, at the very least. And damn it. You were getting all worked up again thinking about earlier. You closed your door, too distracted to notice it didn’t click shut as usual.

Whilst you had changed out of the dress and bra, you couldn’t be bothered to change out of the underwear, vowing to properly clean yourself in the morning and into your comfiest pyjamas. The night was warm enough for cotton shorts, a loose top covering your torso.

Thus faces your new dilemma.

Trying to calm yourself and focus on something other than the sexual tension so suddenly evident between yourself and George without acknowledging tonight’s event, which is precisely how you ended up with a hand in your pyjama shorts.

Your hands moved lower, under the lingerie Lucy had so graciously gifted you— fuck, don’t think about her right now.

You bite your lip to stop a whimper, panting heavily as your fingers move against you as you try to recall the way he’d repeatedly placed an arm around you possessively tonight, the warmth of his hand against your hip still being fresh in your memory.

Vaguely, you could hear footsteps in the hallway, trying to be quieter as you continued to work yourself and resuming once you thought you heard the footsteps fade.

Your eyes squeezed shut, imagining it was George’s between your legs.

Maybe you’d be able to run your hand through his hair and see how soft it was for yourself as he went down on you.

Moaning softly as you tipped your head back onto your pillow, exposing the very neck he’d kissed earlier, and if you focused, you could feel his answering smile against the column of flesh.

“G.. ge-“

You couldn’t bring yourself to finish stuttering out the whisper of his name, trying to imagine what his touches could have been if you’d both not been fully clothed. Wishing that you hadn’t stopped him earlier to see truly how far he would have gone.

The sound of your door swinging broke through your thoughts, your hand stopping as you paused, opening one eye slowly to see George leaning smugly against the doorframe. Your legs clenched together.

“No, please, don’t stop on my account.”

You let out a long, low groan, sliding your hands out of your shorts and rolling over to hide your burning cheeks in your bed.

“How long?”

“Long enough.”

You groaned again. This was beyond embarrassing. It was humiliating. Sure, he’d been in various states of undress around you. But that was just normal stuff, coming out of his room not wearing pants, he’s done that around everyone, and he certainly hadn’t been caught pleasuring himself by the person he was jerking off thinking of.

“You. You should’ve knocked. You can’t just come in!”

George huffed a laugh, “Your door was unlocked, and you weren’t answering. I wanted to see if you needed anything washed to go to the archives tomorrow.”

He paused, apparently intent on enjoying the moment, “But it seems you need a hand with something else, don’t you, angel?”

You would have to move to another country. Wales could always use agents, right? Surely? Maybe there you could find some other hot guy to pine over and hope he gave you his affection. Because this was getting to the point of mortification.

George chuckled, and you heard the floorboards creak, then felt the bed dip down. Your eyes widened where you were hiding your face. Was he sitting on your bed?

“I take back what I said earlier, this is officially the most embarrassed I’ve ever been.”

“Look at me, please?”

Slowly, you turned your head to face him. His expression was unlike anything you’d seen from him yet, he looked like he was going to eat you alive.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed. We all do it.”

He said matter-of-factly, and despite yourself, you nodded.

“Even you?” You wrinkled your nose and made a face of mock surprise, which had him wryly looking at you.

“I’m not going to answer that.” He said, moving further up your bed, gesturing for you to sit up.

“What are you doing?” Your eyes narrowed as you watched him, face still hot despite him assuring you.

Surprisingly forward tonight, George hummed. “Well… clearly, I interrupted you while you were doing something you needed to finish.” He paused, readjusting your pillow. “And I’d really like to help you finish. If that’s alright with you.” One of his hands touched the bare skin on your thigh, watching your reaction for any hesitation.

“That’s alright with me.”

It was astounding how quickly your embarrassment had snapped back into arousal.

You shuffled closer to the centre of the bed, and he slotted himself behind you. His legs wrapped around your own as he pulled your torso so that your back was flush with his chest.

You swallowed hard.

“Are you sure, angel?”

“Yes. Please.”

His face was just beside your head, above your right shoulder. Gradually, his hand snaked underneath your shorts, a soft “Wow,” escaping his lips as his fingers grazed the dampness of the underwear covering you.

You rested your head on his shoulder, exposing your neck again, which he rewarded by peppering it with kisses and soft bites.

His other hand moved to touch the soft skin underneath your shirt, and you could feel your breathing increase rapidly. This was real.

“Were you thinking of me?” He spoke so quietly you almost missed it, and you whimpered. “Hm? Were you touching yourself while thinking of me?”

“Yes.” You responded, already feeling lightheaded under his care.

Beside your ear, he inhaled sharply. “All this just thinking of me?” He seemed in awe.

“Yeah, Georgie.” You confirmed.

He shifted his hands to pull the shorts down and kissed your neck in a way you knew it left another mark.

Briefly, he felt the material of your underwear again, running his finger along the underside of the elastic.

“These feel special.”

“They’re— Lucy got them for me.”

“You were wearing lingerie tonight?”

“You knew that she was buying lingerie?”

“Yeah? She asked me what colours you liked, and I… prodded.”

You didn’t know whether to focus on the fact that he had known what she bought you, or that he had informed what it was that was bought, or even that he knew what you liked to the point of being consulted.

“If it’s anything, thank goodness you didn’t tell me.”

“Huh?”

“We wouldn’t have made it through the gala.”

You turned to look at him and realised he was being serious. His desire to see you in them would have been made into his most recent obsession.

“M— maybe I’ll put the set on for you some other time.”

He smiled, moving your shirt collar so that he could kiss your shoulder.

“I’d really like that, sweetheart.”

His hand slipped into your underwear, mimicking your earlier motions of collecting from between your moist folds. His fingers slid back and forth a few passes until you whined impatiently.

“So wet,” he murmured. “I think I can get you wetter.” He whispered against your ear, a promise.

The pad of his middle finger drew slow circles around your clit, and the hand in your shirt moved upwards to gently knead your breast, causing your nipples to stiffen.

“Oh, George.” You sighed pleasantly, and he groaned quietly in response.

“Have to be quieter for me, love. Not that I don’t want to hear you, just that I don’t want the others to as well.” He increased the pressure, and you fought back a moan, “Think you can do that for me, angel?” and you nodded quickly, not trusting your ability to speak at the moment.

“Such a good girl for me,” he praised.

You didn’t even remember how he’d ended up on your bed, embarrassment lost under his skilful hands.

“Please.” you whimpered, hips squirming against him, his fingers moving faster against you. Simultaneously, he rolled the nipple in his hand between his fingers, causing a low whine to slip through your lips.

“Shhh, that’s it, love.” He nipped at the skin of your neck softly, soothing it soon after by placing soft kisses against it. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

You turned your head, wanting to see him even if it was through half-lidded eyes.

The sight of him had you sucking in a quick breath; his eyebrows pinched together, mouth slightly ajar, and cheeks reddened. His eyes had that look in them again, which you were quickly realising was something akin to heat or desire. George looked almost blissed out as he focused on giving you pleasure.

You released a soft moan, panting as he continued, and his brow creased further. His eyes snapped shut as he listened to the broken noises you struggled to suppress, causing you to realise that he was getting off on this. He was enjoying making you fight not to make pleased little noises, the evidence of the effect of him on you. You wanted to kiss him desperately.

Your left hand moved sluggishly upwards, hesitantly cupping his cheek, and you gently traced your thumb down the cheekbone. His eyes flew open, and he turned slightly so that his gaze landed on your face. Fuck, he looked so good. He raised the same brows you had been observing earlier in silent question, and you felt yourself growing shy despite the circumstances you were currently in.

“Mm?”

You bit your lip, still gently tracing the shape of his cheek and being partially distracted by his actions. Tentatively you moved your face closer to his, lifting slightly off of his shoulder and tilting your head for a better angle. Your gaze kept flicking to his lips, then back to his eyes. He licked his lips, readjusting slightly so you could continue forward more comfortably.

“Please?” You whispered, and he nodded.

Your lips barely connected at first before moving ever closer, George finally understanding your earlier wordless begging and further uniting the two of you. Urgently you tried to convey your feelings for him in this– possibly single– kiss. The hand that was on his cheek was now against his jaw, fingers playing with the hair peeking out from behind his ear. Your other hand now came to a loose grip around the wrist that was down your shorts, taking pleasure in just feeling the rotation before falling to your side again.

You moved back to take a breath, his hand that was under your top moved around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You could feel him hard against your back. Then, it moved to join his other hand under your underwear, avoiding the wonderful movements made by his fingers, rubbing along your folds, and a moment later, you felt one of his long fingers pressing into you, both testing and teasing. A pleased sigh slipping out of him as he realised how easy it was for him to move in and out of you before he added another finger, making your jaw go slack as you fought off the noises he was willing to escape.

He took that reaction as an opportunity to kiss you deeper, lips moving languidly against your own, drawing soft aborted moans from you.

You pulled back again to look down at yourself, his tan arms against your skin, shirt ridden up from his earlier touching.

Breathlessly, your gaze shifted to his face again and whimpered, “George.”

He looked into your eyes and smiled. That had your heartbeat quickening, the butterflies in your stomach causing your orgasm to approach more rapidly. His smile grew as he felt you clench down on him.

“Just for my smile?” He looked pleasantly confused. And you groaned against him.

“Y’r so pretty.” You slurred against him, lust-drunk. “‘S not my fault.”

He hummed in amusement.

Your eyes fluttered shut, hips moving against him as his fingers pumped in and out of you, his others working just as relentlessly against your clit. Shuddering as he kissed just below your ear, where it connected with your jaw. Breathy whines became quiet needy moans, and you couldn't help but tilt his head so slightly to press your own kisses to the side of his mouth and cheek.

“So good to me. Y’r so good t’ me, George.”

And you heard him groan in response. Once again, you clenched in reaction.

“Let go for me, angel.” He murmured, softly biting where he could reach. “I know you’re close. I can feel it.”

He was right, you were close. His warmth pressed against you, combined with his hands and the kisses and bites he had been determinedly leaving on your throat, had you just at your tipping point.

He increased the pressure of his fingers, angling the others just so, and you couldn’t help but moan at it as your back arched.

“Geo— Georgie.” You whispered, the pet name sounding all the more affectionate in your haze.

“Let go for me, please? I’d really like to see it, love.”

And you did.

His odd fascination with you spurring him to continue his ministrations in order to draw it out as long as he could, watching your face contort, and your chest rise and fall, not stopping until you shook in his arms.

Slowly, he removed his hands from your shorts, leaving you to recover in his embrace.

Your mind was completely devoid of comprehensible thoughts, face angled into the crook of his neck as you regained sentience after the mind-numbing orgasm he had just gifted you with. You kissed at the skin there, the pair of you sighing contentedly at the feeling.

You felt him shift behind you and started to awaken further from what felt like a very strange but very good dream, and you realised what had just happened between each of you.

He has just caught you masturbating to him, and instead of running for the hills, he… did that. You had let him— invited him to do that. You must have stiffened against him because he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“You… caught me in a private moment and stayed, is all.”

“Mm? All of which I thought was quite nice.”

You frowned at him, but you knew he could see you didn’t mean it.

“‘S just odd. That’s all.” Then, quieter as you looked away, you added, “I didn’t know you even liked me.” And he scoffed, drawing your attention once again.

“I lay into you like a vampire in public, and you didn’t think I liked you?”

“Well, when you say it like that.”

He shifted, and you felt the bulge of his hardness against your back again. He had gotten hard just getting you off. Your eyes widened as he stuck the two fingers he’d just been fucking into you inside of his mouth. His eyes shut briefly, and you saw his cheeks hollow as he sucked your arousal off of his fingers.

“Oh, that’s trouble.”

“How do you mean?”

“You taste really good, angel.”

You inhaled sharply, a second wave of lust washing over you, and he opened his eyes to do that small, knowing smirk at you, the same one he did when he knew something you didn’t, which was often.

You could feel your heart hammering in your chest.

“I’d like a repeat of this if you don’t mind.”

You rolled your eyes fondly at him. “You just reduced me to mush, and you think I wouldn’t want that to happen again?”

He huffed a laugh, gently nudging you to get you to flip over and lay properly onto him, bringing his hardness back to the forefront of your mind.

“Do you..?”

“What? Oh, no.”

You deflated slightly.

“As lovely as that would be, angel,” he continued, “I’m knackered, and I want your energy up for tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow? Besides the archives, I mean?”

“Oh, didn’t you know? You’re feeling kind of feverish, so I have to stay home and look after you, and would you please go with her, Lockwood? The archives can be terribly boring when you’re alone.” He was smiling at you as though recounting a funny story, and he pulled blankets over the pair of you, so he was planning to stay the night, it appeared. Or at least until early in the morning when he woke.

“George, are you trying to get me alone tomorrow?”

“Yes. Wasn’t that obvious?” he deadpanned, and you couldn’t help the fond smile in response, and you hummed instead of answering.

“Besides, if not tomorrow, I’ll find some other way to hear those pretty noises you make while you’re under me.”

Your cheeks burned, and you buried your face under his jaw.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

“I certainly hope not, I don’t want to experiment on your ghost.”

“That was almost sweet?”

“I meant it.”

You were just dozing off when he broke the silence.

“Why angel?”

“Hm?”

“Your pet name, why an angel?”

“Oh.” You moved to get more comfortable now that you were more aware of your surroundings again. “It reminds me of you.”

He waited for you to continue, not letting you out of that so easily.

“Do you remember the time we went to Arif’s together? The grocery boy had left out some things, so we decided to pick up doughnuts on our way home.”

“Last summer?”

You nodded against his collarbone.

“And when we were walking home, and I dropped it for some reason–”

He cut you off, silently adding, “A bird flew right in front of us.”

“And I got so surprised I dropped it,” you amended, recalling the bird now, too. “But I tried to catch it and went tumbling into the pavement?”

A faint exhale of a laugh came from above you, and you knew he was laughing at you even now.

“When I looked up at you, the sun was right behind you and…” Suddenly shy, you drifted off.

“Yes?” He prompted.

“You were laughing, and I couldn’t find myself to care because the sun was behind you. It lit up the edges of your hair like a halo, that’s why. It’s… I really like that memory.”

“Hm.”

“What?”

“I… may have asked Lockwood to stay home so I could take you instead. You’ve liked me since then?”

You laughed suddenly, surprising yourself. “We’re totally useless. Probably longer– I bet if I asked Lucy to take Anthony instead of us tomorrow, she would. She’s probably sick of me pining.”

“She’s got no ground to stand on. She and Lockwood were way worse.” He complained.

“Yeah?”

“And I had to deal with it alone.”

“But not anymore,” you said softly. “You have me now.” and he hugged you tighter to him. “We might have to buy me a scarf, though.”

“Oh, definitely. Don’t let them see tomorrow, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

George Casper Karim was unbearable.

His big stupid head still told you off for taking the biscuit, but now it would bend down and kiss you softly too.

And he still was so helpful, but now you could really see how he picked favourites and was secretly incredibly pleased he chose you, even if it meant investing what must count as an industrial-grade concealer so that his dutiful ironing was the only thing that made an impression on the client.

But now, he was even sweeter. His touches lingered and were more frequent. He still wouldn’t touch the others as openly, but your space and his space soon became shared. He was unbearable.

He still rolled his eyes as you tried to find a nickname of his very own, admonishing you with a heatless “Angel.” but you knew, you just knew you’d find the perfect fit one day.

He made your world spin, and you couldn’t help but always feel warm, safe and happy with him.

Which, without your knowing, was infectious. Spread to him like a leaf unfurling.

You were unbearable.

#lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #locklyle #george karim #smut fic #i might do another but dont get your hopes up #george karim x you #george karim x reader

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lovelyiida · 1 year

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬.

KATSUKI BAKUGO X SECRETARY READER

A 500 FOLLOWERS SERIES!

❥SYNOPSIS: as the years went by, bakugo realized that he was the last to get married. the days grew cold and the nights turned lonely. bakugo want's to marry, but he doesn't really feel like falling in love. at least he has his trustee secretary!

❥: CHAPTERS

❥ WARNINGS: implied fem reader, aged-up!, Pro-hero MHA characters over the age of 27, vulgar language, suggestive wording and content

❥ MASTERLIST

❥ JOIN TAG LIST!

WORDS: 7.4K

CHAPTER 2: MY MISTAKE

“three strikes, you're in”

It's enough to say that you should have done your research before applying to become Dynamight's secretary—hard, thorough, strategic research, indeed.

Nothing could have prepared you for the hell that awaited you.

You've been employed at the pro-hero's agency for precisely 2 months and 20 days, almost 3 months. And throughout every month, every week, every day, hour, minute, and second, you've experienced utter torture and disrespect.

Yet, against all odds, there's an odd contentment within you. You've come to accept the harsh realities of the job. Despite the hardship, you find a strange satisfaction in the chaos. Maybe it's the unpredictable nature of the work or the resilience it builds within you. Whatever it is, you're strangely okay with it all.

Because you knew that the day you clocked in, the specific day marking the third month of your employment, you'd march into Dynamight's office and tell him to kiss your wonderful ass for doubting you in the beginning.

But for now, you're content.

As you walk through the white halls of the 21st floor, your gaze fixates on Dynamight's office door. You notice that your coworkers still give you lingering looks, but now it's not a look of pity, but rather admiration.

Turning into the break room with heavy files in hand, you slam them down on the small circular coffee table, startling your coworkers in the process.

"Jeez, how do you do it, L/n?" one of your female coworkers asks, her face turned upwards, radiating disgust as she looks at the thick stack of papers. Your other male coworker turns around, coffee in hand, and takes a slow sip. "You must be some kind of masochist-sadist or whatever to endure that," he says, waving his hand towards the pile. You roll your eyes and walk towards the coffee machine.

"It's not hard once you know the routine," you shyly smile. "Routine? Is that what you're conditioned to say?" Your male friend asks. This makes you laugh. "No…it's the truth," you respond. Grabbing a cup from the cupboard, you take the hot jug of coffee and pour some into your signature coffee mug.

"You know what? From the beginning, I knew what you were!" your female friend exclaims. Raising an eyebrow at her words, you sit down with the steamy cup of coffee, placing it on the ground by your feet, not even allowing yourself the fantasy of spilling it on the papers. Your friend crosses her arms with a smug smile. "You have to be some industry plant!" she continues with a wide smile.

"I wish," you snort.

"I mean, there must have been a nationwide distress call from all the pro-heroes in Japan complaining that they needed better secretaries. So they planted you and a whole bunch of others to frolic around and show people how it's done. Because, quite frankly…who here is really doing any work besides Red Riot, Dynamight, and you."

You let out a dry chuckle, shaking your head as you take another sip of your warm coffee. You watch your two coworkers make a beeline for the exit, their duties calling them back to their desks. As you sit in the comfortable silence of the small breakroom, you begin to reflect on the words they said.

They weren't necessarily wrong, or right.

In no way, shape, or form do you work as hard as your boss… But you'd consider yourself a damn close second. You've been there by their side from sunrise to sunset, through prideful moments and instances where they scream at you, making you doubt your own self-worth.

You're not a pro-hero, but sometimes you feel like one. You're always on the sidelines, observing rather than stepping onto the battlefield. Yet, you know every detail, from the way they attack to the way villains cower at their touch. Your eyes have become well-trained in the past three months of working in this field, that's for sure.

Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz.

Snapping out of your thoughts, you quickly gather your things and make a beeline for your boss's office. Leaving your sad cup of spilled coffee on the breakroom floor, you knock hurriedly three times before letting yourself in, the sound of your shoes thumping against the carpeted floor echoing through the silent office.

With a huff, you slam the papers down and look at Dynamight. His face remains straight and unreadable. "Anything else you need, Dynamight?" you say, slightly staggered breath escaping your lips. The blonde hero blinks a couple of times, tilting his head as he looks at the stack of papers.

Extending his finger to lift one of the papers, he looks back up at you. "And might I know what the fuck is on my desk, L/n?" he says, his polite tone dripping with condescension. Clenching your jaw, you manage a half-smile. "Apologies, Dynamight! These are your schedules for the next three months. I've strategically organized each event to your liking, be it fundraisers, press conferences, speeches, or office schedules-"

"Even the shitty high school reunions?" he interrupts with a sly smirk. You chuckle at his response. "Yes, I made sure to make those an optional choice for you," you say with a smirk.

Dynamight scans through the papers, his face focused. Suddenly, he slams a particular paper down and points to a specific line of text. "October 16th, that's a Wednesday. Why is there a press conference scheduled on that day?" he questions.

Raising your eyebrows, you lean over to look at the indicated line. "I scheduled a press conference on that day because you'll be accompanying Red Riot to the Golden Hall to celebrate his birthday. When there are many people with similar expertise and professions gathered, it's considered a press conference," you explain with a smile. "Plus, your officials emphasized the need for you to attend more conferences, so… I bent the rules a little," you mumble.

A long pause hangs in the office, Dynamight's eyes fixed on you. "And why should I keep these papers? Couldn't you have just emailed me this as a damn form?" he growls.

"Because you only use your phone on workdays, and even then, you're barely on it. So I figured a printed form would suit you best," you reply calmly. "And what if I lose it? What then?" he retorts with an irritated tone, seemingly upset that you have an answer to all his questions.

If he paid close attention, he might notice your eye twitch.

Letting out a sigh, you place your hands behind your back. "You walk into this office with nothing, so I assume you leave with nothing as well… These papers will be waiting for you safely in a nice drawer upon your return, Dynamight," your tone edges on the brink of scolding. Your boss says nothing, tearing his gaze away from you as he settles back in his chair, focusing on his computer.

"Get out."

Blinking, you slowly bow before making your escape from the seventh ring of hell—Dynamight's office. "Wait!" he yells out, causing you to stop in your tracks. "Yes, Dynamight?" you say wearily. Your boss notices the tiredness in your tone, raising his head slightly.

"Don't come to work tomorrow. Takin' a week off," he says.

"Yes, Dynamight" you say, making another attempt to leave before you were once interrupted. "L/n!" Dynamight calls out for you once more, "Yes?" you say, on the brink of breaking right then and there.

"Rest."

Your eyes widen for a moment, that might be the nicest thing he's ever said you since you started working here. "Yes, thank you...you as well!" You exclaim, quickly bowing you make a speed walk run for it.

As you scurry to gather your belongings, you make your way to the door and leave the office, heading back home. Upon reaching home, you kick off your shoes at the entrance and set your bag down. Weary and longing for comfort, you tread towards your bedroom. The sight of your bed beckons you, and without hesitation, you sprint towards it with all your might. Jumping into the bed, you land with a resounding thump, letting out a deep groan of relief as you sink into the covers you've yearned for since the moment you woke up this morning.

Letting out a sigh, you turn to face the ceiling and begin to ponder…

If Dynamight isn't at the office for a week, that means you don't have to work… which means you can do whatever you want!

"Whatever I want, huh?" you ask aloud, sitting up on the bed as you delve deeper into your thoughts. When was the last time you had free time like this? Let alone a whole week to yourself?

There are so many things you can do! You could indulge in drawing, try out those dishes you've been meaning to cook, do some yoga, or maybe explore the town like you used to. The only difference now is that you won't be frantically rushing around the city, searching for jobs.

Or perhaps you could simply embrace stillness and do absolutely nothing. Yeah, that sounds like a plan…

Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz!

Letting out an irritated groan, you reach out for your phone and answer the call. "Yes, Dynamight?" you say in a sweet tone that masks your true feelings. "This isn't Dynamight," a female voice responds from the other end. Your eyebrows raise as you glance at the screen to check the contact name. "Oh! F/n! Sorry… force of habit," you awkwardly chuckle. "So, is the prophecy really true? Are we off for a whole week?" she asks.

"Yes, the prophecy has come to pass," you respond, impersonating an old wizard. This elicits laughter from both of you. "I was just lying down, trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do," you share with your friend.

"Well, that's exactly why I called you, Ms. L/n."

"Me and a couple of girls are gonna go out tonight. We're all gonna try speed dating!" your friend says excitedly over the phone, her voice brimming with anticipation. You let out a sigh and lean back against the couch, contemplating her proposition.

"Um, how about no?" you respond, your tone laced with hesitation. Your friend groans loudly on the other line, causing you to wince at the sudden outburst. You quickly move the phone away from your ear to protect your eardrums.

"What do you mean no? You're fucking hot!" she argues, her voice filled with conviction. You smack your lips together, feeling a mix of flattery and skepticism. "You're just saying that so I can come with you," you mumble, not fully convinced of her sincerity.

"No, I'm saying it because you're a babe and you need a life outside of work. I bet if Dynamight asked you to go on a speed date, you'd do it without any hesitation!" she spits back, her words filled with both exasperation and a hint of teasing.

You clench your jaw, slightly irritated by her comment. "Bullshit, I would not! I have more dignity than that, don't I?" you retort, feeling a pang of defensiveness rise within you.

"It's hard to fucking tell with you these days! Just please think about it. What if you find the guy of your dreams? What if he's the sexiest man alive and you decide to miss out because of your stupid pride!" she says, her words rushing out in a torrent of persuasive arguments.

You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling the weight of her words pressing upon you. "Okay, okay! Let me think about it!" you finally scream, your patience wearing thin as you struggle to come up with a definitive answer.

"Perfect! I knew you'd come around. Bye~" your friend sings before abruptly hanging up, leaving you with a mix of annoyance and contemplation. You stare at the caller ID as it fades away on your phone screen before tossing the device aside in frustration.

"Fuck," you sigh, your thoughts swirling with indecision. If there's one thing you have consistently had bad luck in, it's dating. From the age of 18 until now, your romantic endeavors have never quite yielded the desired results. Sure, there have been a few nice relationships you can look back on with a hint of nostalgia, but they were far outweighed by the embarrassing stories and short-lived connections.

You sink deeper into the couch, closing your eyes as you reflect on your dating history. The awkward blind dates, the cringe-worthy encounters, and the countless disappointments have left you hesitant to venture into the dating scene once again. But maybe, just maybe, your friend's words hold a glimmer of truth.

Like the time you met your first love, you thought things were going so well for both of you. You had been dating for about a year, and it was your first-year anniversary. Your partner had planned an extravagant evening at a fancy restaurant, complete with steak, wine, and a beautiful orchestra playing in the background. You were dressed to the nines, feeling absolutely beautiful. It seemed like one of the best days of your life.

As you gazed into your partner's eyes, brimming with love and adoration, you felt as if time stood still. It was a moment when nothing in the world could hinder your happiness. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed someone storming toward your table with a baby on their hip.

Time seemed to slow down as you watched the woman approach, her face red with anger. Your partner turned around, following your gaze, and his face went pale. The woman, consumed by rage, reached your table and swiftly grabbed the glass of wine, splashing it across his face.

"How could you!" she screamed, her voice piercing through the hushed ambiance of the restaurant. All eyes turned toward your table, curious and shocked. As the woman's accusatory words rang out, your partner's guilt became apparent. The truth unravelled before your eyes.

"So you like to sleep around with married men with children?" the woman yelled, directing her anger at you. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you looked around at the scrutinizing crowd. "No, I would never sleep with a married man!" you yelled back, desperately defending your innocence. "I swear I didn't know he was married!" You stared at your supposed lover, the shock and betrayal etched across your face.

In an unexpected turn of events, the woman's expression softened, and she gave you a pitiful look. Hastily, she handed you her baby, the innocent child caught in the midst of this chaotic situation. As you held the squishy bundle in your arms, you couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and heartbreak. Everything you thought you knew was shattered in an instant.

The woman continued her tirade, hurling foul words from the depths of her anger. Your heart shattered further with each word, and you realized that the foundation of your relationship had been built on lies. Overwhelmed by the weight of the situation, you made the decision to leave the restaurant, following the woman and the child she had reclaimed as her own.

It was a night filled with shattered dreams and broken trust. The pain of that experience lingered, leaving a lasting impact on your views on love and relationships. It became a painful reminder of the importance of honesty and transparency in any romantic connection.

After going through the painful breakup, you mustered up the courage to jump back into the dating scene, hoping to find love once again. But it felt like the universe was playing a cruel joke on you. Your well-meaning parents, eager to see you settle down, thought they could help by setting you up on blind dates with their friends' sons.

Let me tell you, it was a total nightmare. From the snobby misandrist who looked down on you and belittled your ambitions to the lazy and clueless guy who had zero motivation in life, you encountered the whole spectrum. It was crystal clear that these potential matches were nowhere near a good fit for you. The whole process felt like a never-ending parade of disappointment and frustration.

Feeling exhausted and disheartened, you made the decision to take a break from dating altogether. You realized that finding the right person required more than just blindly going on dates. It called for patience, self-discovery, and a genuine connection. So, for the past couple of years, you've focused on yourself and found contentment in your life.

During this time, you've embraced the opportunity to prioritize your own happiness and personal growth. You've invested in your career, chasing new opportunities and pushing yourself to reach greater heights. You've nurtured meaningful friendships and surrounded yourself with positive influences. You've explored new hobbies, interests, and passions, unearthing aspects of yourself that got neglected during the chaos of relationships.

As the months turned into years, you realized that you genuinely enjoy the life you've built for yourself. You revel in the freedom to make choices solely for your own benefit, without having to consider a partner's impact. Your independence has become a source of strength, and you've come to embrace the idea of being whole and complete on your own.

But every now and then, you feel a twinge of loneliness. You start to wonder if it's time to dip your toes back into the dating pool. Maybe it's worth exploring the possibility of meeting someone who truly understands and appreciates you—a partner who adds to your life rather than completes it.

With a cautious yet open heart, you entertain the idea of going on a date or two. You set clear intentions and boundaries, determined not to settle for anything less than what you deserve. Whether it's through online platforms, social events, or mutual connections, you're open to the possibilities that lie ahead.

You know the dating journey can be a rollercoaster, but you face it with resilience and a newfound sense of self-assurance. Equipped with the lessons learned from past experiences, you navigate the dating world with a discerning eye and a willingness to embrace vulnerability.

And who knows? Maybe this time around, the stars will align, and you'll find that genuine connection and love you've been longing for. In the meantime, you're content with the life you've created, knowing that your own happiness and fulfillment are in your hands.

"This better be good, F/n."

Stepping into the enchanting ambiance of this charming restaurant, where elegance and warmth seamlessly blend together. The moment you enter, you're greeted by an inviting atmosphere that instantly puts you at ease. Soft, warm lighting casts a gentle glow throughout the space, creating an intimate and cozy setting.

The centerpiece of the restaurant is an elegant bar that exudes sophistication. It stretches along one side of the room, adorned with polished wood and shimmering glasses. Talented bartenders skillfully craft a variety of enticing cocktails, their movements fluid and precise, as they engage in friendly banter with patrons seated at the bar.

As you take in the surroundings, your eyes are drawn to the vibrant red seats that punctuate the space. Their plush upholstery adds a touch of luxurious comfort, beckoning you to settle in and relax. The rich hue of the seats creates a captivating contrast against the warm, neutral tones of the walls and floor.

The air is filled with a lively buzz of conversation and laughter, enveloping the restaurant with an infectious high-spirited energy. It's the kind of place where people come to celebrate, unwind, and indulge in culinary delights. The sound of clinking glasses and the soft hum of background music contribute to the lively atmosphere, creating a backdrop that resonates with joy and excitement.

The friendly staff, dressed casually but stylishly, move effortlessly among the tables. They greet you with warm smiles, making you feel like a cherished part of the restaurant family. Their genuine enthusiasm and professionalism add to the laid-back yet attentive vibe, ensuring you have a memorable dining experience.

As you settle into your seat, you can't help but feel embraced by the restaurant's inviting aura. The combination of the elegant bar, the vibrant red seats, and the high-spirited atmosphere create an irresistible charm that envelops you, making you feel at home in this haven of culinary delights.

As you settle into your seat, you pull out the menu, scanning the options while squinting at the prices. With a quiet curse, you mutter to yourself, "new job new price bracket I guess."

Glancing over to the other side of the restaurant, you spot your friend engaged in a lively conversation with a guy. They share laughter, their connection evident. Catching your gaze, your friend gives you a playful smile and waves.

You offer a half-hearted wave in return, recalling the lighthearted advice she gave you in the car on the way here: "Remember, Y/n, suck it in and smile!"

Rolling your eyes at the cliché advice, you sit back in your seat, swirling the complimentary glass of wine in your hand. Letting out a sigh, you survey the room filled with eligible bachelors. There are a variety of choices—tall, short, slender, and wide. All you have to do is approach them and say hello.

Despite the numerous options, none of the men in the room seem to catch your interest. None of them seem to measure up to the one you're seeking. But then, a voice interrupts your thoughts, asking if the seat next to you is taken. Startled, you snap out of your reverie and look up, locking eyes with an attractive man.

"N-no, it's not taken," you stutter nervously, feeling your heart race. The handsome stranger takes a seat in front of you. He's tall, fit, and his well-groomed brown hair falls gracefully just above his shoulders. His light brown eyes meet yours, reflecting a golden brown glow as they catch the light.

"I couldn't help but notice you sitting all alone, so I had to make sure I swept you up before anyone else did," he chuckles, flashing a charming smile. You respond with a nervous laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you settle more comfortably in your seat. Taking a sip from your glass, you set it down with a warm smile, intrigued by this unexpected encounter.

"Don't worry, you're the first to come by" you smiled at the man. Throughout the night you shared conversations with the man. Likes and dislikes, hobbies, and interests in goals. He seemed to be the perfect man for you. And he also had the looks to top it all off!

After the blind date, you decided to spend some more time with him throughout the few days off you were granted. And you felt as if you were on cloud 9.

He was smart, he was charming, he had a great since of humor. He was someone who you could see yourself in the future with, and you were excited to start a more romantic chapter in your life.

It seemed that more time you spent with him, the stronger your feelings for him grew. It seemed as if everything fell into place effortlessly. From shared interests to compatible personalities, you couldn't help but envision a future together.

You explored the city together, trying new restaurants, visiting art galleries, and enjoying long walks in the park. Each moment spent with him felt like a magical adventure, filled with laughter and meaningful conversations. You discovered common values and goals, and it only deepened your connection.

It seemed that now you were back at work all you could do was think about your blind date, he was in your every thought. He made you swoon over a single text and you smile in the worst of situations. And it seemed that every one around the office seems to notice it.

Even your boss

"L/n."

"Yes, Dynamight?" You ask, currently occupied sneaking a good morning text to your date. It was currently the beginning of the new week back from your much needed break and you were in your boss's office attending to his regular needs.

"Strike two," he says with a cold tone.

Eyes snapping up from your phone your face is puzzled, you find your boss holding a piece of paper. Looking closer you grow warm in embarrassment. It was a random loose leaf paper of writing—words consisting you having your dates last name and next date ideas scattered all over it.

"It's a strict policy we have here...keep your romantic endeavors outside of work, you of all people should know that." He says, voice stern and strong he stands from his chair and walks close towards you.

Looking up towards him, you can't help but feel small in comparison to his towering stature. Your eyes are caught like a deer in headlights, and your words stumble out in a nervous jumble. "I'm sorry, Dynamight… it won't happen again," you say softly, feeling a mixture of guilt and embarrassment. Dynamight takes the paper, crumpling it up and shoving it into your palm with a dismissive gesture. "Right," he says coyly, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. Without another word, he turns and walks away, and you instinctively follow suit.

You both make your way down to the basement of the building, where a private parking lot reserved for top employees and heroes awaits. The sound of your heels clicking against the polished gravel reverberates in the air as you quickly catch up to Dynamight's wide strides. As you look ahead, you notice a chauffeur stepping out of the driver's seat of a sleek, black luxury SUV. The chauffeur promptly walks over to open the door, extending a hand to assist you and the pro-hero.

With a graceful movement, Dynamight steps into the car, his air of confidence barely contained. You roll your eyes discreetly at his cocky demeanor, feeling the need to apologize for his behavior. You offer two bows, a gesture of remorse on his behalf, before you enter the vehicle and take a seat next to the hero. An awkward silence settles in, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine.

Pursing your lips, you reach into your bag and retrieve your laptop, determined to focus on your work despite the tension in the air. As you power up your computer, the glow of the screen illuminates your face, casting a faint light on the dim interior of the car. The atmosphere becomes charged with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty, both of you immersed in your own thoughts.

The vehicle glides smoothly through the city streets, the passing lights painting fleeting patterns on the windows. The occasional honk or distant siren breaks the silence, but the air between you remains heavy with unspoken words. You steal quick glances at Dynamight, observing his strong profile and the focused expression on his face. The hero's presence, despite the strained circumstances, evokes a sense of awe and admiration within you.

As you settle into your work, the rhythmic tapping of your fingers on the keyboard provides a comforting backdrop to the journey. The clacking sound mixes with the muffled sounds of the bustling city, creating a symphony of movement and activity outside the vehicle.

Minutes turn into a hushed passage of time, and although the silence may be uncomfortable, it also holds a sense of intrigue. The shared experience of this car ride becomes a silent connection, a shared space where unspoken thoughts and unexpressed emotions linger. Each passing moment brings you closer to your destination, both physically and emotionally, and the anticipation of what lies ahead intertwines with the subtle electricity in the air.

Lost in your own thoughts, you glance up from your work, meeting Dynamight's gaze in a brief moment of eye contact. A flicker of understanding passes between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension and the complexities of your relationship. In that shared glance, you find a glimmer of hope, a glimpse of the possibility for a deeper connection beyond the surface-level interactions.

With renewed determination, you return your focus to your work, hoping that this car ride, filled with its awkward silence and unspoken words, may lead to a turning point, a chance for both of you to bridge the gaps that exist between you.

"So… who's the guy?" Dynamight breaks the thick tension in the air, causing you to pause from your typing and look at him with a rather shocked expression. "I'm not permitted to tell you that information, Dynamight," you say, maintaining a professional tone. The pro hero rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed with your response.

"Fuck the rules, I'm your boss," he retorts, contradicting himself with a hint of frustration. You swallow nervously and shift your gaze to the window, observing the bustling city of Japan at such an early hour.

"I met him during my week off. He's a good guy, and we're attracted to each other–"

"That's it?" Dynamight interjects with a snort, and you blink, trying to restrain yourself from showing your irritated state. "Well… I'm not exactly comfortable discussing my personal life in detail," you respond politely, hoping to defuse the tension. However, as you glance over, you notice Dynamight giving you an unamused look. He soon adjusts in his seat and leans his head back, signaling his disinterest in further conversation.

"Whatever," he says dismissively. Another ten minutes of silence ensues, during which you become engrossed in your work, typing away on your computer. However, before you can enter another character, a sudden bump in the road causes the car to shake roughly. Holding onto your computer tightly, you look over to see Dynamight sound asleep.

Sitting up and adjusting in your seat, you continue to gaze at him, noticing how peaceful he looks when he's asleep. Almost like a porcelain statue, he remains still, without a flaw on his face. Every scar, bump, and bruise seems to be placed perfectly on his skin.

Feeling a warm sensation, you avert your gaze, closing your laptop. Unfortunately, you have to wake the hero. Reaching over, you gently shake him. With a groan, he swats away your hand rather harshly, inadvertently displaying his strength. "We're nearing your destination, Dynamight," you say coldly.

He looks at you with a tired nod, adjusting himself in his seat as he glances out the window. "What do you have for me, maid?" he asks, his tone flat. Pressing your lips into a line, you let out a sigh before reaching into your bag to retrieve a collection of papers. Handing them to the pro-hero, you say, "It's the congratulations ceremony for young aspiring heroes, mostly middle school age. I provided their names and ages. I gave you these papers a week before we left, hoping you had memorized their faces as well."

"Alright… what else?" he replies, sounding slightly more engaged.

"Give them a handshake, a hug or two, and don't forget to smile," you inform him, reciting the instructions word for word.

As the car continues its journey, the atmosphere remains filled with a mix of tension and professionalism with maybe a hint of an attempt at small talk. The cityscape rushes by, the hum of the engine creating a steady rhythm. In this moment, you prepare yourself mentally for the upcoming event, hoping to navigate the complexities of your relationship with Dynamight while fulfilling your duties as his secretary.

Looking out the window, you watch as the large crowd grows sporadic at the sight of your vehicle pulling into the event driveway. A mixture of fans of every age and shape, gleefully cheering for the hero's appearance. Letting out a tired sigh, you look over and see your boss not excited at all.

The both of you lock eyes, as you both share a moment of fondness. Sharing the same feelings, absolute dread. Signaling your hand towards your mouth, you mouth the word "smile!" gleefully before shutting back to your regular relaxed frown.

Before you know it, the chauffeur hurriedly opens your door, and the cheers of citizens grow ten times louder than before. Showing a small smile towards the crowd, you step out and give a bow to the awaiting audience. Stepping away from the vehicle, you observe as the groggy asshole you call your boss transforms into a complete character. A confident yet cocky smile paints over his face as he raises his fists in the air and flexes his muscles. You can't help but feel a slight sense of awe as you watch him.

Shielding your face from the flash of paparazzi cameras, you make your way into the building, guided by an assistant. They lead you to a VIP powder room where, like a flip of a switch, the corporate smile fades effortlessly. Dynamight wearily trudges his feet to the open pink couch and collapses onto it with a loud thud.

Grabbing a water bottle, you hand it to him and take a seat beside him. With a slight curve in your back, you exhale, feeling the weight of the day so far. Staring deadpan into the void, you listen to the loud gulps as Dynamight quenches his thirst. A burp follows suit, and he casually tosses the empty water bottle into the trash.

Soon, you hand him the piece of paper with the children's names on it. Your boss glances over it, reading each name. However, he quickly loses interest and looks at you with a puzzled expression.

"What's he like?" he asks, attempting to revisit the unsuccessful conversation from the car. "That's none of your business, I'm sorry," you respond professionally. This prompts the pro hero to groan aloud. "Drop the act and just tell me!" he demands.

You don't know what's in the air, but today of all days, you've reached your breaking point.

"I said no, goddamn it!" you yell at him, frustration boiling over. Dynamight's expression shifts from irritated to irate, but before he can get a word in, an assistant from the event venue barges in.

"We're ready for you in 3 minutes!" they announce joyfully. Both of you turn abruptly towards the voice, and just as quickly, they disappear, slamming the door behind them. Dynamight slowly rises from his seat, rolling up the papers you provided into a scroll.

Walking away from you without uttering another word, he leaves you sitting there, throwing your hand to your face. Cursing to yourself, you sink deeper into your seat, reflecting on the intense exchange and the upcoming event that demands your attention.

As you stand in the crowd, you watch the pro-hero speak to his audience. Programmed to say whatever needed for the sake of his image, you wondered if anyone knew how much of an asshole he really was compared to just word of mouth.

You wondered if anyone truly knew him like you did, you wondered if anyone truly knew what it felt like to be in your shoes for one day. To see how much you suffered by sumply co-exhisting with a man like him.

"Looking a little low on battery there, Y/n?" a voice says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look over at the voice and gasp in shock. It's your blind date. "Holy shit, what are you doing here?" you exclaim with excitement oozing from your tone. Reaching out, you hug him tightly, and he returns the embrace.

As you release from his grip, you lock eyes with each other. "I'm reporting for a story, you know, heroes giving back to the public and all that crap. What about you?" he asks.

"Oh, same," you quickly reply, deciding to keep your true situation a secret.

Around 30 minutes or so pass as the both of you try to catch up on the lost time. The sounds of crowd laughter fill the air, but amidst the noise, his voice is the only one that seems to filter through to you.

"Hey, I was thinking… if you're free after this, we could grab a coffee and a bite to eat and talk some more?" he shyly suggests. A sparkle twinkles in your eyes at the offer. "Of course, I would love to! I'm totally free after this—"

"Yeah, she's gonna be really fucking free after this!"

Dynamight's voice cuts through your conversation like sharp ice. Your eyes snap towards him, your brows furrowed in confusion. Before you can react, you feel a strong grip on your arm as Dynamight forcefully drags you away with an ungodly strength.

Protesting and yelling, you try to resist his hold, but Dynamight remains relentless. He leads you back into the VIP room and slams the door shut behind you. Throwing you onto the couch, he stands towering before you, his expression filled with anger and frustration. Exhausted from the ordeal, you look at him with a mix of distraught and defiance, huffing your breath in an attempt to regain composure.

"What is wrong with you?" you spit out, your voice tinged with anger. His eyes widen in disbelief. "What's wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you!" he yells, his voice echoing in the small room. You plead with him, aware of the presence of other people nearby. "Dynamight, please, there are people around! Let's talk calmly."

"You think I give a shit? After you fucking embarrassed me while being too busy being dickmatized?" He screams, his frustration reaching its peak. Unable to control his anger, he grabs the papers from the table and hurls them at you. Flinching at his violent outburst, you shield yourself from the incoming papers.

The room falls into an uneasy silence as you both catch your breath. The tension hangs heavily in the air, leaving you feeling emotionally drained and disheartened. You had never expected things to escalate like this. The weight of whatever mistake and the consequences of your actions begin to weigh heavily on you.

"Look through those fucking papers and tell me what the hell the issue is," he says coldly, his voice laced with frustration. Grabbing the paper harshly from his hand, you meticulously examine each page, your gaze fixed on the words. The weight of his expectation hangs heavily in the air.

As you pour over the papers, your eyes scan every line, every word, searching for any trace of error. The room is filled with tense silence, broken only by the sound of rustling paper. You can feel his eyes boring into you, his impatience growing with each passing second.

Looking up, you finally meet his gaze, your expression a mixture of confusion and disbelief. "What is supposed to be wrong here?" you spit out, unable to hide the frustration in your voice. The knot of tension in your stomach tightens.

His voice drips with anger as he snaps, "The fucking kids' names are mixed up, L/n! The goddamn names! The whole fucking crowd was laughing at me, and one of the kids cried because I said the wrong name!" His face reddens, veins pulsating with anger.

Your heart sinks as the realization hits you like a punch to the gut. The gravity of your mistake hangs heavy in the room. Swallowing hard, you feel a lump form in your throat, making it difficult to speak.

"I… I'm so sorry, Dynamight," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Rising from the couch, you stand before him, your body tense with remorse. In a gesture of humility, you bow deeply, a desperate plea for forgiveness.

The pro-hero's initial anger subsides slightly, replaced by a hint of smug satisfaction. He snorts in response to your apology, relishing in your discomfort. "Don't worry," he taunts, a smug grin playing on his lips. "You'll have all the free time in the world to feel fucking sorry."

The weight of his words hangs in the air, intensifying the heaviness of the situation. It feels as if the ground beneath you has given way, leaving you in a void of disappointment and self-doubt. This wasn't just a simple mistake; it was a strike against your credibility, your competence.

"Strike three," he declares, his voice low and menacing.

"You're out."

"What the hell do you mean you're leaving?" he exclaims, his voice filled with disbelief and a tinge of desperation.

"I'm saying I'm fired, F/n," you reply, your voice heavy with sorrow and resignation. With each item you drop into the cardboard box, the weight of your dismissal grows heavier.

Back at the office, surrounded by the remnants of your professional life, you find yourself immersed in a bittersweet wave of memories. As you gather your belongings, you can't help but reflect on the time you spent as a pro hero secretary. It feels like only yesterday when you embarked on this journey, eager to contribute to the world of heroes.

The mistake you made still lingers in your mind, and you can't shake off the disbelief that accompanies it. You had taken every precaution, painstakingly triple-checking the papers from beginning to end. How could such a crucial error slip through? Doubt and self-blame claw at the edges of your thoughts.

As you pack away your belongings, each item serves as a reminder of the connections you forged during your time here. The laughter shared with colleagues, the triumphs celebrated together, and the bond formed within the walls of this office. It's a painful reminder of what you're leaving behind.

"Strike three, you're out."

His words echo in your mind, amplifying the weight of your failure. The realization that you've lost his trust and respect settles over you like a suffocating cloak. It's a bitter pill to swallow, but you know you must face the consequences of your actions.

In the silence that follows, you gather your thoughts, determined to learn from this experience and regain what you've lost. The road to redemption won't be easy, but you're resolved to prove yourself once again, to earn back the trust you've squandered.

Looking at your empty desk, you notice one more thing left on the table. Grabbing it you frown, a golden plate with your name and occupation. frowning you toss it in your box, but then your friend grabs it back out.

"You can't keep this—" they say with a frown. "You have to return it back to Dynamight so that you don't sell it and stuff. It's what all employees have to do," he explains, his voice soft; tinged with a sense of obligation. Slamming your belongings down with frustration, you snatch the golden plate from his hands and march towards Dynamight's office.

Standing in front of his office door, your face contorts with a frown, your thoughts racing. There are so many things you want to say to this man, but deep down, you know he has heard them all before. Taking a deep breath, you knock on the door, the sound echoing through the silence. Footsteps approach from the other side, and soon the door swings open, revealing the towering figure of the pro hero.

As you look up at him, his stern expression doesn't waver. He lets out a weary sigh and gestures for you to come in, motioning to close the door behind you. Obeying his silent command, you step into the room, feeling the weight of the atmosphere envelop you. The ticking of a time clock fills the room, accompanied by the gentle hum of a fan providing a cool breeze that adds to the white noise surrounding you.

Extending your hand, you present the golden plate to Dynamight, the emblem of your job, its significance not lost on either of you. He pushes himself off his desk and walks toward you, his hand reaching to take the plate from your grasp. However, you refuse to let go, tears welling in your eyes and streaming down your face, splashing onto the golden surface.

Your body trembles with uncontrollable emotions as you collapse to your knees, bowing on the floor, your face pressed against the cool surface beneath you. Desperation seeps into your voice as you plead, "Please, I'll do anything… anything."

Moments pass in heavy silence, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Unexpectedly, Dynamight drops to one knee, bringing himself to your level. His strong grip pulls you up, forcing you to face him, his gaze meeting your tear-stained eyes. Something in his expression softens as he witnesses your vulnerability and brokenness, a side of you he has never seen before.

"There's one thing you can do," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyes widen, your heart pounding in your chest, as you sit up straight, eagerly awaiting his next words. "Yes, Dynamight?"

"Marry me."

AHHHHH SHIT I FINALLY FINISHED!!! I literally have no excuse i've just been living life and avoiding this shit like the PLAGUE honey...

ALSO TYSM FOR 700+ FOLLOWERS!

❥: @r-ans, @xo-evangeline, @superkittywonderland, @inlovewithteo217, @im-better-than-your-newborn, @nar00, @king-dynamight, @bollzinurmouth, @gold24fish, @xasilex, @urdescentartist, @the-queen-of-sorrows, @itgetzweird08, @yoyosocks165, @zyxys1, @your-mom83, @pebblepoop, @lovra974, @suchagoodgirixoxo, @bakugospartner, @gaby-11, @smokers-sweetheart, @akqsa-xxi, @StableCreator93, @alhina, @din-O-bi-wan, @jolynegf, @sad0ni0n, @wore-for-anime, @a1hina, @goldenglow149, @aliruuiz, @zany17, @zukowantshishonourback, @uvula6927, @ilovedenk-i, @LavaLampFullOfSoup

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vickyvicarious · 6 months

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To one thing I have made up my mind: if we find out that Mina must be a vampire in the end, then she shall not go into that unknown and terrible land alone. I suppose it is thus that in old times one vampire meant many; just as their hideous bodies could only rest in sacred earth, so the holiest love was the recruiting sergeant for their ghastly ranks.

Jonathan, 3 October

She lay in her Vampire sleep, so full of life and voluptuous beauty that I shudder as though I have come to do murder. Ah, I doubt not that in old time, when such things were, many a man who set forth to do such a task as mine, found at the last his heart fail him, and then his nerve. So he delay, and delay, and delay, till the mere beauty and the fascination of the wanton Un-Dead have hypnotise him; and he remain on and on, till sunset come, and the Vampire sleep be over. Then the beautiful eyes of the fair woman open and look love, and the voluptuous mouth present to a kiss—and man is weak. And there remain one more victim in the Vampire fold; one more to swell the grim and grisly ranks of the Un-Dead!…

Van Helsing, 5 November

One thing I noticed this year was the way Van Helsing echoed Jonathan's declaration about lovers joining the ranks of the undead. They both use very similar language, but with a couple huge differences. This makes these quotes almost a reverse of one another in a really interesting way.

Van Helsing's theoretical men who become vampires out of love are very clearly victims. They are foolish, fascinated by a vampire woman's beauty, and don't need to have known her beforehand to be mesmerized. Their hearts fail them, when they allow beauty to stay their hand which had previously been poised to kill the undead they've been hunting.

Jonathan's very real man willing to become a vampire (and his presumed others before him) is making a deliberate choice. He is not being tricked into anything. He knows exactly how horrible a choice he is making, and is in fact doing so well away from the sight of any supernatural beauty or mesmeric power. His heart feels the holiest love, which guides it into darkness rather than ever even consider harming the undead he loves.

Van Helsing's assumption is that the men who falter didn't already know the vampire who eventually turned them, and thus no deeper love is really possible. This is very much not the case for Jonathan's quote. But I think even in that situation, the Professor would still consider Jonathan himself much closer to the foolish, mistaken victims of his own quote - rather than recognizing the agency and deliberate nature of Jonathan's choice. That's the main difference for me - even more than the depth of the connection/length of association (though of course that hugely informs the situation and is a necessary distinction), it's the knowing/unknowing nature of each one.

In both (hypothetical) situations the men are guided by their hearts, but Jonathan knows the truth even as he declares he would join his love to be a vampire. In Van Helsing's scenario, the men act against what they know by feeling pity and affection for what they intended to treat as a monster. They forget that the ranks of the undead are "grim and grisly" just long enough to fall prey. But Jonathan never does. He knows Mina would become a monster, knows that in this scenario he'd be joining the "ghastly ranks" of the undead. He doesn't forget that fact. He just considers his love to be more important, enough that he is willing to subject himself to such a terrible fate rather than harm or be separated from her. It's the opposite of someone mesmerized into delaying and being enticed into putting down their weapon. Instead he resists entreaties to pick it up in the first place. (At least to point towards Mina.)

#dracula daily #van helsing #jonathan harker #jonmina

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amaiyajiki · 1 year

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Soukoku X reader Dating Headcannons

A/N:I am not dead- so don’t worry- I was just having a major writer’s block- This is only FLUFF. idk if theres any warnings except dazai being dazai ig- (this takes place after dazai left and joined agency),gn reader.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

~Definitely a chaotic mess, but they’re your mess and you love them:) Idk how yall meet but Ima just assume you’re a civilian that somehow caught their eyes.

~Both of them would be clingy towards you but they will show their clingy-ness towards you in different ways.Dazai would be openly clingy with you, touching you in some sort of way.Hugs,kisses,cuddles anything you want:)

~Chuuya would be secretive about it. Like giving you gifts, with secret admirer written on top of them (you know exactly who’s it from).He cares about you so he will tell you to care of yourself. Taking breaks,giving you messages,etc.

~ Charcuterie and wine dates! yall would get drunk on the wines chuuya bought for both you and dazai. They would feed you and fight over on who gets to feed and you and who would get the last piece of meat or smth.

~(heres a pov):

“OI! you bastard! You fed them last time! let me fed them!.” Chuuya said. “Too bad, you’re always so slow into feeding them,shortie.” Dazai spat back. **inserts a bunch of insults towards each other**

You: **just eating the meat and cheese ** this is good drama :)

(I am so sorry if you’re lactose-intolerant-)

~Dazai wouldn’t really be secretive about your guy’s relationship, but if you wanted it to keep it a secret,he would respect it. Chuuya would most likely be the one to keep the relationship a secret bc of the port mafia. Chuuya would like to give you guys affective in private while Dazai doesn’t really care.

~They would both spoil tf out of you. Dazai would spoil you with affections and Chuuya would spoil you with his money. I feel like once in a while, the three of you would go to the shopping mall and buy shit with his money. He’s more generous with you but with Dazai,hes a bit more cautious with him since Dazai would literally spend all of Chuuya’s money.

~Honestly, Dazai would probably show up at your work place and start flirting with you bc why not:) Chuuya would also show up but only at night time, he would pick you up with motorcycle bc hes protective of you. “You could get kidnap for fuck’s sake! and its not safe to go home alone this late at night.” (His words not mine-)

~They would fight for your attention, like 2 boys fighting for their teacher’s attention. Dw just reassure them that you like both of them equally. Cuddles with them would be amazing, you would be in the middle either holding Dazai and Chuuya holding you or Dazai holding you and you holding Chuuya. ~Dazai would always ask all of you for a triple suicide as joke. I feel like he would mostly do it with you like “Why don’t we all just commit a triple suicide! It’s way better than double! :D” “Dazai- I swear to god if you say it again, I will punch you across the-”

~Dazai would sometimes feel- well- insecure is the right way to put it.Dazai would definitely have his downs and you and Chuuya will try your best to comfort him:D (don’t think that they won’t do the same for you or each other.)

~If you got injured somehow, be it minor or major, These two will act like its the end of the world, (mostly Chuuya). If someone caused you that injury,don’t forget that the people you’re dating were/is part of the port mafia.

(I hope all of you enjoyed these headcannons! Make sure to drink water and eat food!) Edit:Shouts out to my bestie for helping me getting rid of my writers block!:D She said to me that Chuuya gives her Italian man vibes and now I can’t get that shit out of my head’-’ *wheezes*

#Dazai x reader #Chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #Dazai Osamu #Chuuya Nakahara #bungou stray dogs #soukoku x reader

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arc-misadventures · 1 month

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Okay this could just be me remembering the lore wrong. But how old was Ozma when died in the Vtuber au? Since Salem should at least be in his late 60s or somewhere around that, well assuming Ozma didn't die young.

Well, there isn’t any lore, well much lore for the story in general.

But, I can certainly make some!

Ahem…

Before the VTubers, there was the MMORPG of, ‘The World of Remnant: Hunter’s, and Monsters.’ Salem, and Ozpin were actually players in these games, among the top players at that. And, because of their skills in the game, they were the elected heads of their respective guilds.

Salem was often referred to as the, Grimm Queen, and the leader of the Cabal. And, Ozpin was simply referred to as Headmaster Ozpin, Headmaster of Beacon Academy.

~~~

Salem became the, Cabal leader after the developers of the game came to her with an offer that she could become the canal leader after they notices her skills, and particular playing style that they thought would be fit for the position as the leader of the, Cabal.

Salem herself was a blonde hair woman with deep blue eyes in her early twenties. She started playing the game as a copping mechanism after dealing with a miscarriage that ultimately ruined her marriage as well.

Loosing herself in the game brought peace of mind, and of heart that she sorely needed. Being the cabals master also meant that she could adopted an almost motherly attitude, but strict way of dealing with its members. This way of dealing with the guild members added an air seriousness to its members. Reminding them that they were evil, but not evil.

And, she remained the leader of the Cabal until the very end. She lead her guild throughout the consequences of the, Apprentice Massacre,’ She led her guild in battle against the, Grimm Titan, and she was the last flame to be snuffed out as the, Scorpion incident struck the final nail in the coffin of the, Grimm Cabal..

But, her love for her character, and the, ‘World of Remnant’ endured. See various characters she knew given new life in a new form she decided to join in on the, VTuber crowd, and bring back her dear lady.

The world of hunter’s and monsters may have fallen to the ashes of time. But, Salem the Grimm Queen would endure.

~~~

Ozpin was to, put it simply: a huge nerd.

Like a massive nerd when it came to the lore, and history behind, The World of Remnant. So much of a fan that while the man of his late thirties never having a computer for gaming he immediately bought one just for playing, ‘The World of Remnant: Hunter’s and Monsters.’

He spent countless hours playing this game to the point that where it was often said among the various players that, Ozpin was made the headmaster of, Beacon was just to get him to slow down.

He lead, Beacon Academy with a calm, and wise disposition, that seemed to go on for hours, leading to the rumour that the mug his avatar was often seen carrying around was filled with coffee, and the man himself was a caffeine addict.

A rumour that those who were close to him, such as ErrantryPaladin, and other high rank Academy faculty members would confirm to be true.

He lead, Beacon Academy until the final days of the game. He stood side by side his friends that have played this game since it’s inception. He was among the first to join, and the last to leave.

Now that the, ‘World of Remnant: Hunter’s and Monsters’ was over, he got into the VTuber Scene, and became the Headmaster to his beloved Academt one again as the owner of the, Beacon Academy VTuber Agency.

Bringing back his persona as the Headmaster of Beacon Academy to usher in a new era for upcoming Hunters of The Wold of Remnant: VTuber Verse.

#rwby #rwby salem #rwby ozpin #vtuber au

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guacamoleroll · 8 months

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𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖑𝖔𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖉 𝖘𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 「𝔬𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔲 𝔡𝔞𝔷𝔞𝔦」 ༉‧₊˚

content. f!reader. unexpected first dates, bored osamu dazai is a menace, flirting, hand holding, fluff, coffee shops, café uzumaki, silly goofy dazai behavior. not proofread. 1.6k+ words.

author's note. this actually originated from a request that i accidentally mixed-up, but i only noticed when i completed writing the oneshot. so here are the results of that one! (i'm also scheduling this post for while i'm at uni, and also for the same day as the last episode of season five. how's the last episode, future me?)

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

The breeze whispered throughout every nook and cranny of the port city, hailing from the misty waters of its many rivers before permeating into the air. It blanketed pedestrians in cool afternoon gails, blessing them with the blissful beginnings of a new season as the leaves fell before them like rain. (Name) thrummed her fingers against the keys of her laptop, peering down at the passers-by through the agency office's window before tuning back into her work.

It had been a sluggish day for the agency — a hidden miracle in their busy schedules. For the past few weeks, they had been trampled with incidents that spanned the city, along with their usual run-ins with the infamous Port Mafia. However, the consequences of monotony were paperwork and lots of it. Each of her co-workers had been assigned an allotted amount of work, though some were better at getting through it than others.

Kunikida had to be the most diligent of them all, rapidly typing away at his desk with his sole focus on the articles he ciphered through — not that anyone was surprised. The week had especially rattled his routine, so he seemed most pleased to return to an orderly schedule. Atsushi tried to follow in his footsteps, though he struggled to keep up with the blonde's brisk pace. Kyoka was perched at the weretiger's side, staring in a daze at his work before mindlessly clicking at her laptop without rhyme or reason.

Naomi and Junichiro canoodled in an isolated corner, which everyone purposefully ignored like always. Loud crunches could be heard like clockwork as they echoed across the room, crumbs scattered onto the floor as Ranpo ran through his weekly snack stash, disregarding the heaps of investigation requests on his desk. Yosano hummed from the other room, polishing her metal utensils with such enthusiasm that (Name) tried not to think about it too much. Instead, she tried to focus on her work, a pep in each stroke of her pen as she raced to conclude her second stack.

However, the resident suicidal maniac did not seem as content as the rest of his co-workers, dramatically sighing from his desk. He twisted around in accelerating revolutions; his entire body crammed onto the seat with his eyes glued to the ceiling.

"I'm so bored," he muttered, strumming his bandaged hands against the arms of his chair. His fingers wandered across the desk like brittle spiders, jumping onto Kunikida's arm and crawling up towards his neck. Everyone could see the way his shoulders tensed, counting down their internal clocks until he exploded.

"This sucks! I'm so bored."

And just as Kunikida was about to crack, pivoting his head with a sneer on his lips—

"How about I take you somewhere, then?"

Dazai's attention immediately snapped towards (Name), mimicking the same attentiveness as a dog that heard the word 'treat.' He flew over with exceeding velocity, the wheels of his chair scraping against the floor as he clasped their hands together, gawking at her as if she were a goddess incarnate.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Kunikida interjected before Dazai could practically fling himself out the window, giving (Name) a pointed look. "Are you sure you can handle him? And make sure he does his work?"

She nodded, waving him off with a smile. "I'm sure."

Plopping two separate stacks of paperwork into her arms, she balanced them both in one and grabbed Dazai with the other, leading him out the door. He practically frolicked at her side, a skip in his steps as she steered him downstairs.

"Sooooo, where are we going? A bridge to stare into the shimmering sea? A sky-scraper to gaze into the setting sun? I can hardly take the anticipation!"

She smacked him with her blank stare. "Why do I feel like you'd only take the opportunity to jump rather than do some sightseeing?"

"With you there?" he beamed. "The only sight I need before my untimely demise is you, my dear."

She scoffed, hiding the quirk of her lips as she turned away from him. "Pft—yeah, okay."

His eyes shimmered as they exited the building, only for her to drag him into a very familiar doorway, the scent of coffee striking his nostrils. He crossed his arms, a boyish pout on his face.

"The café. Really?"

She only grinned from ear to ear, hiding the shake in her shoulders. "You complained about being bored. Here's your change of scenery."

"How unfair," he groaned as he dragged himself over to their usual table, catching the attention of the café owner and his wife, the latter of which strolled over, a smile settled on her face.

"What can I get you two?"

"Hmmm." (Name) pondered as she glanced over the drink menu. She was momentarily tempted to streamline towards adventurous today, dabbling into something she never had before, but instead decided to go with her usual. "I'll have a cortado."

The owner's wife nodded before she turned to Dazai, who was completely uninterested in the entire exchange. "I guess I'll have an espresso."

The woman took their order, though her happy expression had narrowed into a frown. She bent over, careful not to disturb the brunette who slumped down in his seat and fixated on the sights outside.

"Is he okay? He's not acting like his usual, charming self."

(Name) nodded, if only to reassure the sweet lady, but couldn't help her own confusion over his withdrawal and disinterest. He never missed an opportunity to flirt with women, even in the worst of moods. Her eyes traced over his uncharacteristic stillness, scrutinizing him.

"You okay, Dazai?"

He glanced up, resting his head against the table. "Hmm? Yeah, why?"

"You're just not acting like yourself."

He raised a brow. "How so?"

She refrained from responding, not quite sure how to, messing with her fingers as her mind racked for a coherent reply. For some reason, she felt herself struggling despite her usual witt, unable to pinpoint her confusion.

"Well, you didn't flirt with the waitress."

He stared into her eyes for an uncomfortable amount of time, an unreadable gleam reflected in his own as his spine straightened, taking her hand into his own. She stiffed as his fingers worked through the aching muscles of her palm, his diligence a stark contrast to his sloth-like behavior.

"Did you want me to flirt with the waitress?"

"I-I," she stuttered, not expecting to be caught off-guard by such a random question — she should've seen that coming; bamboozling her was one of Dazai's favorite pastimes. She attempted to scramble through her thoughts, becoming mildly frustrated as his laughter peaked through her mutters, giving up with a groan.

"Just do your work."

The café became quiet as she returned to the monotony of sorting through papers; only the mellow clinks of the owner's painstaking coffee creation process and the gentle hum of the occasional cars could be heard. She continued to write, heartened by the stunning scenery of the season and setting, able to sign a couple of papers before she began to recognize a tapping sound. It started soft at first, almost unnoticeable. However, it grew in rhythm and volume, shaking the table like sticks on a snare drum. Then, the humming began, followed quickly by grating, off-pitch singing.

"You can't do a double suicide~"

She was about to intrude upon his solo concert when the owner's wife interrupted them, setting their drinks on the table with a curt smile. (Name) returned it with relieved earnestness, letting out a small 'thank you' before she brought the drink to her lips. She released a pleased hum, the soothing taste of steamed milk sliding down her throat and easing her muscles. When she looked up from it at Dazai, she had, for some reason, expected him to do the same.

However, the sight she was met with was unholy. The man had resorted to filtering several packets of sugar and sweetener into the drink, effectively ruining it as it soaked up like a sponge, like a monstrous coffee-cereal concoction.

"Why aren't you doing your paperwork?" she whined.

He took a spoonful of the drink, shoving it into his mouth as he swallowed with wide eyes, vibrating in his seat as the disgusting notes trampled on his tongue. His scrunched face honestly reminded her of a pissed-off cat, and she had to physically refrain from laughing at him as he slowly settled down.

"Cause we're on a date." It was his turn to hold back the laughter as she gaped at him. "Doing work on a date is an absolute no-no."

"A-A date—?" She shot up from her seat, slamming her hands against the table and almost spilling their drinks, narrowly avoiding so as they circled in their cups. "What do you mean a date?"

He merely shrugged. "You're a stunning young woman. I'm an absolutely drop-dead bachelor. We're alone together in a coffee shop. It's a date."

"T-That doesn't mean—"

"Do you not want it to be a date?" he pouted before taking a sip of his drink, pointedly ignoring her sputtered rebuttal with only an inattentive hum.

"You know what—fine. It's a date," she relented, plopping over in his seat.

He chuckled, setting his drink down as he took her hands. "Well, if this is a date, then I have a better idea of what we should do."

It was now his turn to take her by the arm, already slinging her out the door with a devilish look that told her everything she needed to know — he had planned this all from the beginning. She yelled out her apologies to the café manager, promising to come back and pay for their drinks as she was shoved out the door. The manager only scoffed with a softened smile, his wife leaning against his arm as she sighed.

"Ahhh, to be young again."

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @sillyspookycat @imhandicapableofmath @seisitive @solandiss @ruru-kiss @ishqani

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅#f!reader #꒰ა ⎼ [dazai]#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #osamu dazai #dazai bsd

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tulipsforyourlips · 15 days

Text

✧˖°. i found you ✧˖°. (5)

|| the sandman x dead boy detectives ||

SUMMARY: You run the dead boys detective agency along with your two best friends. And somehow two ghosts and a living girl make it work. Until you dream one night, of dream himself.

PAIRING: dream of the endless x fem!reader

WC: 1500

WARNINGS: none I can think of

PART 5 ✧˖°.

You were sitting on your bed, pondering over Dream's words or actually the lack of them from last night. Why was it bothering you so much who he loved or did not? He probably had gone through an army of lovers being so ancient. You knew there was Nada, Calliope, courtesy of Matthew's inability to stay quiet for more than two seconds, and now Hope. But there was something about the first time he had said her name, pure anguish coating every syllable, that had your heart retreating into itself.

"No mate there is absolutely no way I am leaving her behind." Charles' muffled voice sliced through your silent rambling.

"Charles you cannot be serious. We can't put the entire agency to a halt because of one client," Edwin wailed.

"What's the problem?" You peeped through your door.

That's when you saw Jesse's curled form on the couch and the overheard conversation bore logic.

"She's still here?"

"Yeah." Edwin's face wore a scowl. But as he sensed the oncoming taunting suggestion from you, he hurriedly added, "which I have no problem with of course."

"Sure mate," you smirked. "I will stay with her."

Charles lifted his eyebrows.

"Yeah I am feeling super tired anyways. You guys go ahead," you assured the lot of two.

"How do you manage to feel exhausted after sleeping 10 hours a day absolutely stuns me. You stun me woman." Charles relieved a deep breath.

"Aw thankyou love," you pouted.

"Alright, Hazel keep a watch on her. And if anything strange occurs, call us immediately," Edwin spoke. "You sure you aren't staying behind because of your mysterious guy?"

You gave a mock chuckle.

"No seriously Haz how are things going with him?" Charles wiggled his brows. "Which base-"

"Okay okay okay out! Both of you."

You dropped the book titled 'Hope' with a thud on the table in front of you. You were waiting for Dream to join you tonight and in the meantime, your inquisitiveness had gotten a tight grip on you. So you had raked the library to locate Dream's past lover's record successfully, you might add. Excitement swooshing in your entire body, you flung the book open. Nothing. White blankness stared at you. You flipped through the pages. Still nothing. Are you kidding me? How is this even possible? Lucienne had told you that any being, immortal or not, living or not, had a book dedicated to their dreams and stories. Before you could lose more of your mind on the enigma on your hands, you heard the flapping of Matthew's wings. You quickly put the useless book back in its place.

"Boss wants ya."

You gaped at the apparition in front of you. Consider a rhinoceros, but bigger and scarier and from a fairy land. He was partially covered in moss and vines loosely wrapped around his ears and horn. You pitied the humans back in the waking world whose dreams the animal had ever had a cameo in. You were just glad you weren't one of them. Now not so much as the whimsical rhinoceros slowly made its way in your direction. You stretched your arm in front of you. And closed your eyes in concentration. The sounds of heavy stamping grew louder. You can do this. You have been doing this for weeks. The literal fate of the world depended on you being able to do this. You opened your eyes. Yellow eyes speedily approached you. You got this. Blinding pain seared through your palm where the pointed horn of the creature tore through your skin and the acute scent of copper wafted into the air. Dream raised his hand to dispel his creation.

"No!" you shouted. "Don't."

"Haz-"

"I got this." You got this.

Blackness seeped into the periphery of your vision but you reeled your focus back to the huffing beast in front of you. He started towards you again, sand flying from the rear of his feet. You shut your eyes. Enough. You are chosen for a destiny far greater than yours, Dream's words from your first encounter surfaced in your mind when you had accused him of being a serial killer. So much time had passed since then, so much time putting your body and mind through vigorous training, so much time withholding yourself from your bestfriends, so much time with Dream, who had placed his faith in your hands, gentle and soft. A faint energy began buzzing in the core of your soul, spreading throughout, tickling every nerve in your body and roaring in your ears. You opened your eyes, the creature's angry black pupils crashed against your outstretched bleeding hand, almost. The second his bristly face came in contact with your touch, his pupils dilated and he skidded to a stop. Your hand glowed with the hum of energy that slowly receded back from wherever it had come from, inside you. The animal leaned into your touch before pulling back and leaped away to from wherever Dream had summoned him. Dream. You tilted your head to where he stood, his lips twitched upwards all so ever slightly, a ghost of a smile. A fire ignited in your heart, from where it trickled down your insides, painting them warm, at the sight. He walked towards you and the wave of adrenaline rush that had kept you distracted from your punctured hand that was reddening the sand below, died down. Before the blood loss could take its toll on you, Dream's calloused yet silken fingers wrapped around your wounded hand. His touch though cold, lit your skin on fire. He rubbed sand over your hand. The blow of the pain simmered down to a dull ache. He severed the contact between your skins, leaving behind an abrupt chill. It was as if your body was calling for his hand again, craving for his touch.

His perfect lips parted, perfect? you perverted brain get a grip, "Hazel? Hazel?"

Shit. Were you staring? "Yeah,"

"How is your hand?"

You looked down, a black cloth was tied around it. How long were you zoned out?

You might have cared for the throbbing pain still lapping around it if you weren't reveling in the ecstasy your triumph had wrought. "It's better. Thankyou."

"You did well tonight, mortal."

"Shut. Up!" You turned towards the newly joined raven on your shoulder. "He can hand out praise?" You asked incredulously.

"Unsolved mysteries of the world," Matthew replied.

Dream's lips fought a smile.

You fisted blades of grass within your fingers as you sat alongside the Dream lord in your favourite place of all the realms. The darkness was slowly fading away, a hint of pink dotting the mountain edges. It would soon be time for you to wake up.

"Dream,"

Morpheus turned his attention to you. You didn't like the intensity of it.

"Yes mortal?"

You hesitated.

Dream's gravelly voice jeered, "How many questions do you have?" Amusement danced in his eyes.

You sighed and laid down your head on the soft grass. "It was you, wasn't it? That day at the sisters' house. You saved me from Aura." You finally gave voice to the doubt solidifying in your mind.

"That isn't a question Hazel."

"Why?"

"Because you are important to the survival of the realms."

You felt a brush of disappointment at his answer. What were you expecting? That made a perfect explanation for why he had saved you. This partnership was not forged out of any preference or want. You were chosen for this. He was stuck with you.

"So what happens now? With the nightmares under control- Why did you even create them in the first place? Just some merry dreams would have sufficed don't ya reckon?"

"Nightmares serve a crucial purpose. They are merely meant to reflect a man's worst fears so he can face them."

"I wish I could say makes sense."

"Don't trouble your puny mortal brain with the rules of the universe," he said in a teasing tone.

Your laugh was gradual but it came. He was getting better with his jokes. You felt Dream watch you intently. He had begun to open up. You had managed to writhe little information about his past but whatever you had, the Corinthian, Roderick Burgess, Rose Walker, he had given it up willingly. Do you ever get lonely? You had asked him your first time in the Dreaming. Even though he hadn't replied to you then, you had come to know the answer. He was just as eager for company as you were for his.

"Well back to the concerned topic, with the dreams now learning to trust again, what happens now?" You asked.

The sun had emerged from the diving nook between the mountains. Its rays spilled honey all around you.

"We will decide tomorrow." Were the last words of your dream as you were tugged back into wakeness.

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imaginesbymonika · 1 year

Text

“Shame” (Part 4)

A Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader fan fiction / someone else joins the story...

Plot: For the last four years, Y/N and Pedro have been dating in secret. The fear of rejection has turned them into a mystery that could only be encountered in yearning looks on red carpets or hands that are touching one another briefly. However, for the longest time, things have been working out that way just fine. But now Pedro's agency wants him to have a PR relationship with another woman and neither Y/N nor Pedro is sure if their love is going to survive that.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, feelings of cheating, grief and eating disorders

Masterlist

She stares at Pedro from across the crowded room. That's where the two of them are, relationship-wise. She gazes at him like he is a tempting stranger in a bookshop. Melissa's hands are drawing circles on Y/N's boyfriend's back while she whispers something into his ear. A sigh leaves her lips, it feels strange to call him that. Even though it was true, he used to be Y/N's boyfriend… no, he still is her boyfriend, right?

"You're not seriously asking me that!" Y/N had no idea, what facial expressions Pedro was doing because her eyes were concentrating on the floor. On the black and white tiles, where there was a minuscule crack in one of the black ones right beneath her chair. Has it always been there? Like some bizarre fucked up foreshadowing, just waiting patiently to be discovered.

"Are you even listening to me?" All she has ever done was listen to him. She nodded her head. "Y/N. Please.", she hears how he moves closer and after a few seconds, he kneeled down in front of her:" Look at me, darling." She really didn't want to, because she understood very well that the moment she did she could no longer conceal her feelings. "I love you, okay? Nothing has changed."

And when she ultimately raises her head, she noticed it in his eyes. The first time she saw that emotion was when she first met his siblings. Pedro's oldest sister made this desert and he declared that he really loved it. That he would need her recipe and that he couldn't wait to eat it again someday. Late on, he told Y/n that he lied. Simply because he didn't want to hurt his sister's feelings.

Pedro didn't want to hurt Y/N's feelings. And she let him.

Y/N swallows thickly before she turns her whole body back around. "Is everything alright?", a voice asks from behind her and she figures that it has to be one of her co-stars. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine.", the y/h/ced woman responds, without looking at them:" I just thought that I saw someone that I know, but turns out I was wrong."

The man chuckles:" Happens to me all the time. Not only do I have a really bad memory, but my eyesight is super crappy. Which is just a poor blend of important things." Y/N wrinkles her forehead and turns around. Only to be met by two very kind-looking eyes. "Oh my- I am so sorry.", she hides her face behind her hands for a moment, before looking back at him:" I thought, that you were one of my friends. That's so rude of me." Y/N immediately holds out her hand for him to shake:" I'm Y/N." "Yeah, I know.", he states, and when he touches her a shiver runs down her back:" I'm Matthew Gray Gubler. It's nice to meet you."

And that's when she senses it. For the first time in a long, long time. Y/N doesn't have to turn around to know that Pedro's eyes are lingering on her form. Something about this situation makes her feel like a criminal, but truthfully, she couldn't care less.

"So, are you nominated tonight?", Matthew asks, and takes a sip of his wine. His eager gaze is not once leaving hers. She shakes her head:" Oh, no. But the show is." "Barry, right?", a laugh escapes his lips:" I'm sorry. Of course, that's the show. I'm sitting here, pretending I'm not a huge fan of it and- of course, you." Y/N bites in the inside of her cheeks, while she notices how his eyes move down her face. She clears her throat and he echoes it.

"Anyway.", he says and crosses his legs, while the lights in the room dim:" It was nice talking to you, Y/N. Good luck." She nods:" Yeah, it was. Thanks." Matthew only tears his eyes off her once the room goes completely dark, and there is this sensation in the pit of her stomach that feels so unbelievably sinful and good at the same time. God, she's in big trouble.

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal angst #angst #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fic #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro x reader #pedro angst #x reader #pedro x you #pedro pascal x you

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idlesana · 1 year

Text

fairy of shampoo

sana x reader ; fluff

summary: your manager decides you need to teach the new coworker the ways of your job. only issue is the new hire is drop dead gorgeous and almost inevitable to fall for

"so, y/n," your manager started, eyes trailing from you to graze over the neatly stapled packet of papers in front of him. his eyes flicked from separate parts of the first page, before licking his lips-- in more of a focused manner-- and readjusting his gaze.

you'd been confused since you walked in. you were a good worker, maybe even the best here, and hadn't done anything "talk" worthy.

that's why you were shocked to feel a tap on your shoulder by your boss mid serving a table-- talk about embarrassing.

"hey, we need to-"

"ah!"

was your last exclamation before spiling waters all over some new elderly guests.

maybe that was fire worthy and your boss tapping you was just a test of reflexes in the workplace. or not.

your boss seemed to of noticed your haze as you spaced out into thoughts of earlier, a light flush of embarrassment flushing your cheeks for the second time around.

he, or rather, soobin, cleared his throat.

soobin, your boss of however long now. he seemed a bit young to be running the shop, especially for its current size and reputation, but he explains it as his "dad suddenly abandoning all business projects to move to maui with his new fiancé and leaving him to handle everything".

"listen, we have a new worker joining the team." he said, adjusting in his seat to make his posture more prim. he sniffed, clearly looking for more words as he let his eyes space out on his office decor.

you looked at him with a raised brow and squinted eyes, wondering what he was getting at.

you'd never trained a new hire before-- it was always one of the other, more experienced guys. also guys who'd been giving walk throughs of the job to every new hire. it was routine at this point.

"she's,"

there it is. your expression relaxed, slumping back into the stiff office chair across from his desk.

the word 'she' was enough to enlighten you. you were the only other girl who worked dining hall, if that's what this mystery girl was going for, she'd be bombarded by some teen boys who'd never really touched a woman. or even really seen one for that matter.

"she's super pretty, like i asked her if she came from a modeling agency and she laughed at me. and her laugh, so melodious, so congenial-"

"soobin."

"sorry. but you get my point! not even i can stop thinking of her, imagine those 18 or 17 year old dweebs that-"

"soobin."

"sorry. shouldn't have said dweebs, informal. those... degenerates that've never spoke to women. i mean look they drool over you all the time! imagine them trying to teach some lady i thought was a model! and she's flirty too. bad."

"soobin. one, don't say degenerates. as funny and true as it is this isn't exactly workplace vocabulary. two i bet the flintiness was the delusion seeping into your brain and corrupting it with false hearings." you sighed, fingers now pinching the bridge of your nose, unsure of how your boss could be so, so ridiculous sometimes.

"she was flirting! she said i looked good in a suit." soobin 'hmped' clearly taking some offence to these accusations.

"whatever you say. what's her name and when do i need to get started."

"friday, five pm. her name is sana."

"what?!" you almost yelled, at least it felt that way-- you'd only raised your voice a little. "five pm? friday? that's when i make triple the amount of a usual night soobin." you huffed, crossing your arms over your body and tilting your head at him.

on a friday, the typical crowd varied, but the crowd were all big tippers. from elderly couples drowning in money to drunken men trying to find a girl to take home. working as a female server on a day like that was as good as being a celebrity.

"i am your boss, y/n."

"ugh, not this."

"and you will listen."

you were sat at a table, acrylics tapping hastily on your phone in order to match soobin's load of texts. you let out a small scoff, eyes rolling at his adoration toward the new girl, and his very obvious crush.

minatozaki sana-- the new hire, the statuesque beauty that had your boss on edge. you hadn't seen her yet, but despite your annoyed behavior you were presenting, you were eager. not only because there was a new girl and all the stares would disperse to her, but also to maybe have some eye candy at work. you called it inspiration-- and wouldn't let it become anything more.

you sighed again, now ignoring soobin's rush of anxious messages and opting to scroll instagram, liking few posts here and there. sort of relaxed minus the hustle of workers and customers around you. but not all peace lasts forever.

"hey!"

you jumped a little, only mildly startled by the honey sweet voice. you looked up, cheeks flushed, only to meet the eyes of an angel. soobin was not wrong.

sana was in baggy jeans, high rise, and not too big, just right. a pair of boots, even from the distance you could read the small prada logo on them. her shirt was fitted, again, not too tight but not too loose, and it had some cute logo on the front. overtop was a racer jacket, matching the color of the logo on her white shirt. it was oversized and looked so warm-- you started to feel jealous at your lack of jacket. her hair was dark and wavy, perfectly framing her face, and her perfectly carved jaw, and her warm eyes you couldn't pull away from, and those full lips that-

"are you alright?"

that voice, ugh, it wasn't fair. it was warm and partially low, much to your demise.

"uh- sorry! yes, sorry." you faltered, voice shaking and body turning into a 90 degree bow. you heard sana begin to laugh, only making your face hotter. it was just as melodious as soobin explained.

"don't be. you're cute. i'm sana." she chimed. you'd swore you'd start sweating at this point, face hot and definerly red.

"s-sana! i'm y/n. i'll be showing you around i suppose." you stuttered, mentally slapping yourself. you needed to get ahold of yourself before all hope is lost with sana, but god would it be hard when she looked and talked how she did.

"pretty name, suits you. let's go?" she smiled, turning her head slightly to motion behind her.

"yeah.."

this walk through would be the way you died.

you'd mentally decided your own fate only half way through the walk through. with sana's random and most definetly not work place friendly flirtatious quips and the 'subtle' touches she'd leave on your skin-- you were positive you were done for.

"so, is that all?" sana smiled, snapping you away from your thoughts. the smile on her face was enough to put you to your knees, having to use all the strenght you had to stand upright.

"uh, yeah! you start monday i think, and i'll be working the same hours as you, just in case you need help." you smiled back, positive there was a pink tint to your cheeks.

"perfect. you know you're-"

"sana! i see y/n has showed you around."

soobin.

you could hear the way he was making his voice more stable, and even a little deeper. he wore his most expensive suit, one you'd recongnized from when he made you join him to shop for date attire. dior pocket square adding the smallest detail. a grin was adorning his face, subtle and clearly having flirtatious intent. sana turned from you hesitantly, only before throwing a warm smile on her face.

"oh, hello soobin. good to see you." sana winked, which in any other scenario, would make you melt and would burn your cheeks up. but the only thing hot now was your blood as you clenched your teeth together, forcing a tight lipped smile onto your face.

you were beyond jealous.

"you look as gorgeous as before! still such a model." soobin flirted, words rolling off his tongue smoothly, and causing sana to let out that heavenly giggle.

"and you still look good in a suit, i see." sana responded, hand reaching out for his forearm. you felt your heart nearly sink.

"uhm, i got to go." you coughed, not really wanting to interrupt, but wanting to leave asap.

"what?" sana muttered, watching as you scrambled to put your items into your purse.

"i-uh." you started, eyes trying not to meet hers. "i just am feeling, tired." you lied, standing up straight and bowing to both sana and soobin. you quickly turned on your heel, hearing your shoe squeak on the floor.

"wait!"

you felt a hand hit yours, enveloping it in a sudden warmth, contrasting to the cold weather. it locked perfectly with yours, and the skin was so soft against you. you turned around, eyes meeting sana's at a closer distance that you'd been expecting. you had almost let out a sound at the small gap between the two of you.

"i want you to take my jacket, it's freezing." sana beamed, holding her leather racing jacket in her free hand. you were still focused on the distance and how sana's hand hadn't left yours.

"you don't have to." you muttered, eyes shaking as they met hers. you'd sworn her look was of adoration-- but you brushed that off as overthinking.

"i do. to thank you. please take it." she nudged the jacket into your chest to accentuate her point further.

"i, okay." you said, unable to resist sana's hopeful expression. you started throwing the jacket over your arms, noticing the sweet smell that infiltrated you nose, and the warmth the jacket had provided you.

"should be helpful since i walked here."

"what!?!?"

and that's how you ended up in sana's car, that honeyed and husky voice humming along to whatever song came on-- even singing some lyrics.

"thank you sana, you didn't have to." you hummed, turning to look at her as she drove. her side profile was flawless, as if she had jumped out from an illustration.

"i did! you showed me around today. plus, i'd never let someone as gorgeous as you walk home at this hour." she smiled as she said those words, almost knowing you were staring. your face heated up for what felt like the nth time today. however, you couldn't shy away from looking at her.

the car came to a stop, a new red light illuminating her face.

"if you think i'm that pretty just ask me out, you could look at me much longer." sana grinned, turning to meet your now burning face.

"i-i'm so sorry! i didn't want to make you uncomfortable." you murmered, turning away and looking down at your hands in your lap.

"hey," sana started, reaching to grab one of your hands over your thigh as she kept driving, "it's okay."

what wasn't okay was whatever was happening right now. not that you didn't want it to happen, but god were you going to melt away right into the seats of her sports car.

you couldn't respond, to worried about your voice giving out. this left the both of you to drive in silence, other than sana humming to some new song.

monday came faster then expected.

you went from worrying about sana in your bed all weekend, unable to shake the thought of her. her and her soft hands, and welcoming perfume and perfect lips.

now, you were at work, trying your darndest to ignore sana until the end of your shift. whether it be pretending to be extra busy, or holding more eventful conversation with customers.

which, shockingly, worked.

but of course,

"hey! let me drive you home y/nnie." sana called to you, watching you slip on your normal sneakers you'd worn before changing into uniform.

today sana's outfit was more laid back, just some grey baggy sweats and an oversized black hoodie. she still managed to look like a runway model in her cozy clothes.

"you don't have to, sana." you smiled back, trying your hardest to resist her charms. you stood upright, watching as she walked over to you, reaching out that glorious hand to yours.

"come on. i want to talk to you."

back in sana's flashy white sports car. you found yourself wondering where sana got all this money as you watched streetlights and corner stores pass your vision.

there was a lack of sana's humming, and no song on the radio at all. the silence was comforting and sweet, but you sensed sana's thoughts the whole car ride. feeling her eyes on you at any stop light. similar to what you did her the first car ride.

what else was different, was the car being parked at an unfamiliar location. obviously not the lobby to your apartment building that you'd entered time and time again.

you looked around, rubbing your eyes and letting out a small groan as you stretched. you found yourself almost in awe, admiring the coolly lit lamps and the blossoming trees, small white flowers falling to the floor with each gust of wind.

you turned to sana, who for once, looked nervous. light pink tint on her cheeks and a bashful smile on her lips. you couldn't help but smile back.

"what's this?" you asked, tilting your head at her.

"the trees are blossoming this season, i figured you'd like to see. let's go walk? there's some benches down this way." sana said, voice hopeful and cheery, yet still managing to fluster you.

"i'd really love to sana, but i don't have a jacket and it's a little cold, no?" you frowned, not wanting to upset her any. especially not after the thoughtful surprise.

sana's smile didn't falter, she only unbuckled her seatbelt, letting out a quiet 'hold on', before reaching behind her seat, retrieving a white hoodie. you couldn't help but coo at her thoughtfulness, letting your fingers sink into the fabric as you took it from her, putting over your own body.

immediately, the same sweet scent from her jacket the first time you saw her wafted into your nose, filling your senses and warming your body up.

"let's go?"

sana and you had been hand in hand since leaving her car.

her hands were soft, actually, soft was an understatement. they were near perfect, fitting yours perfectly, size a little larger, acrylics at the ends of her fingertips that were neat and new. her hand provided another warmth like you'd never felt before, less of a physical warmth and more of a comforting, mental warmth. one that made your heart flutter and your cheeks burn with color. an effect sana seemed to always have on you.

"here's good." she mumbled, nodding her head toward a bench sat under a lamppost and trees surrounding.

as the two of you sat, you took note of sana's fidgety, nervous state. you'd only seen her a couple of times, but you knew of her typical confident demeanor.

as you sat, sana's eyes locked with yours, reflecting a more timid and sheepish emotion, not the usual flirtatious one.

"so, y/n," sana started, eyes pulling away from yours to try and focus on the trees and not the overwhelming weight on her heart. her nerves were getting to her, it was obvious, from the shaky eyes to the bouncing of her leg.

you took note of this, putting a reassuring hand on her previously bouncing knee, looking at her with a concerned and welcoming expression.

her eyes met yours once again, face less stiff and more comfortable. rosy flush on her cheeks and warm smile illuminating her face.

"so, i know we only have known each other for like, a day, or whatever," she contiuned, reaching for your hand on her knee to hold, body turning to face you with regained confidence.

"but, i really like you, a lot. and i'm sorry if it's creepy or if you don't even like girls but, there is just something about you. like, you're so gorgeous and even the way you put your hand on my knee to reassure me and the way you talk with that flawless voice. it's all a lot for me, not in a bad way, just a wow kinda way, if that makes sense. i can't sit back and watch our coworkers drool over you knowing we have equal chance, i just want to know you're mine. sorry thats creepy and-"

you cut her off by pressing your lips against hers. she tasted like strawberry chapstick and everything sweet and her lips were just as pillowy against yours as you'd imagined the first day you saw her. she hummed into the kiss, moving her hand up to your jaw to better lean into the touch, your hands moving to tangle in her hair, the both of you pulling each other flush to one another. before letting anything get too far, you made the move to pull away, to both of yours dismay. but you couldn't stop thinking of how late it was getting and also how hard it was starting to get to breath. she let out a groan, one of more annoyance then anything, before looking into your eyes with a familiar smirk on her lips.

"i like you too, sana. a lot" you responded, head turning away as you tried hiding your reddened cheeks.

"i can tell." she grinned, teasing tone lacing her words.

"hey!"

the two of you started walking back, hand in hand once again, laughing about some random topics, before sana's phone went off.

"who is it?" you asked, quirking a brow, genuinely curious as to who it could be.

"ah, our boss, soobin." she sighed, putting her phone back in her pocket.

your eyes immediately widened and jaw slightly dropped. uh oh.

#sana x reader #sana scenarios #sana imagine #minatozaki sana #sana imagines #twice sana #twice imagines #twice x reader #twice reactions #twice imagine #twice #sana reactions #sana drabble

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wenigstenshabeichesversucht · 5 months

Text

All I Want For Christmas Is You

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Summary: You spend Christmas at Portland Row

Warnings: fluff, English is not my native language This is a bonus chapter for my one-shot A Christmas Carol. But you don't have to read "A Christmas Carol" to enjoy this one-shot. However if you liked this one-shot, I would be thrilled if you would check out "A Christmas Carol"!

Word Count: 1,8K

Ba bump, ba bump, ba bump, ba bump

It felt like your heart wanted to free itself from your rib cage and claw its way out of your chest.

Sweat was running down your back, while your hand twitched to where your rapier normally hung. But today the spot was empty. There was no need for a rapier, today you were facing another horror, Christmas at Portland Row.

Lockwood had invited you at the Fittes Christmas Party to spend Christmas with him, Lucy and George at Portland Row. Since Quill had to work, you had agreed. Too late it occurred to you, that you had no presents and that you couldn’t find any at such short notice. When you had told Lockwood these concerns, he only had said that you didn't need to bring any gifts, your presence was gift enough for him. Normally if somebody had said something like this to you, you would have made a run for it. But you were so whipped by Lockwood, that you had just smiled at him. You already felt sorry for Lucy and George who had to put up with you both all day.

Wiping your sweaty hands one last time on your winter coat, you rang the bell. As if he had been waiting for you, Lockwood opened the front door in an instant.

“Hello love”, he breathed, beaming all over his face.

“Come out of the cold”, he urged you inside, “May I take your coat?”

He was rushing around you, trying to make you feel welcome. It was sweet. You couldn’t remember the last time somebody did something like this for you. Over his shoulder your eyes met Lucy’s, who was just coming down the stairs. Seeing you two together she started to grin like a Cheshire cat.

“Y/N, I’m so glad you decided to join us today!"

She skipped down the last steps, before pulling you in an unexpected but welcome hug.

“I have something I urgently need your opinion on."

Ignoring Lockwood's protest, she took your hand and pulled you into one of the adjacent rooms.

“You will get her back soon enough”, she yelled over her shoulder, before the doors closed behind you two.

The room Lucy had pulled you into was an office. Looks like this was the place where Lockwood and Co handled their business. For an agency not exactly know to be professional it looked surprisingly competent.

“When Lockwood told us this morning, that you would join us, I started plotting”, she started to explain and rushed to one of the desks. Alarmed your eyebrows shot in the air. You didn’t like the evil grin which slowly took over Lucy’s features.

“I bought matching Christmas sweaters, but of course Lockwood don’t want to wear them”, she pulled said sweaters out of one drawer of the desk, and wow were they ugly. You could understand Lockwood.

“It would be the greatest Christmas present, if you could convince Lockwood to wear it.”

Sceptically you twisted your mouth.

“Why do you think I can convince him when you've already failed?”

“Because he likes you a lot for a very long time. He started to like you before I even came to London. And if you would wear one of the sweaters, he would totally take the chance to match you.”

“He started to like me before you came to London?”, you echoed and of course you concentrated on this part. Wasn’t that almost two years ago?

“When I came to London, he was talking no stop about this cute girl at Fittes. I was so excited to see you for the first time, which only happened after two months.”

Wow, hearing this make you feel giddy. He really liked you, you already guessed that after the Christmas Party, but to hear it was something else.

“And for you, it counts like a Christmas present?”, you made sure and Lucy, grinning from ear to ear, just nodded.

“Deal”, waiting you held out your arms and Lucy didn’t need to be told twice.

“This will be the best Christmas ever!”

You quickly changed into the sweater before the doubts could take hold of you. Of course, you would look better in the outfit you planned, then in this sweater. But Lucy told you that Lockwood liked you already for a long time, so this should be fine.

Unsurely you smoothed the sweater while Lucy left the room but not before sending a wink in your direction. As soon she left, Lockwood came rushing in.

“Did you already miss me?”, you joked, toying with the sweater Lucy gave you for Lockwood to wear. He grasped the situation at one glance.

“She did not!”

“She did.”

“But if one person can wear this then you! Even wearing a potato sack, you would be the most beautiful person for me, love.”

Fighting a blush, you tried to concentrate at your task. But when Lockwood was talking like this it was fucking hard.

“Sweet talk will not help you, pretty boy.”

You shook the sweater in your hand invitingly and Lockwood grimaced.

“Do I have to?”

“I would make me happy”, you hadn't even finished your sentence when Lockwood started taking off his jacket. Slowly he loosened his tie. In a trance you watched his every move. His long finger fiddled a moment with the fabric and loudly you gulped. Noticing this he presented you with a bashful smile.

“If you wanted me to undress, you could have just asked.”

“Oh, shut up”, you laughed but couldn’t keep the blush at bay.

“Make me!”

He didn’t have to tell you this twice. Pushing him back, his back softly hit the bookshelf. He barely managed to let out a surprised sound before you locked his lips with yours. He didn't waste any time returning the kiss. Swapping your position, so you were pinned between him and the shelf, he deepened the kiss. His kisses felt like heaven, and you could do this all day long. Unfortunately, the human body needed oxygen to live, and you were no exception. Heavy breathing you both separated and gazed into each other eyes.

“How long do you think, can we stay here, before George and Lucy are coming looking for us?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

After twenty minutes of snogging like the hormonal teenager you were, you left the office, wearing the matching Christmas sweaters.

Viewing Lockwood with his messy hair and swollen lips, you didn’t want to imagine, what you looked like. Anyone who even glanced at you would know what you had been busy doing. Not that you were ashamed.

Holding hands you stepped in the kitchen, where Lucy and George were already waiting for you.

“Ah finally you decided to join us”, George, wearing an apron, welcomed you.

“Hello to you too, George”, sending him a cheeky grin you didn’t let go of Lockwood’s hand and from the facial expression he wouldn’t either.

“The breakfast is getting cold, if you two don't plan on living on air and love alone, I suggest we finally start.”

You didn't need to be told twice, mumbling an apology, you let yourself be dragged to one chair, which was standing next to another while the other to chair were further away. Letting go of your hand, Lockwood pulled out the chair for you and only when you were comfortably seated did he take a seat next to you.

Lucy, sitting on the other side of the table, was watching all of this with a knowing smile. You couldn’t help but think about her earlier words, that Lockwood already liked you for a very long time. You discreetly tried to peek over at him, only to see that he was already looking at you.

“What are you saying? Should I show you after breakfast the house?”, he whispered, while leaning over to you.

You could feel his hot breath on your skin and needed every strength not to blush because of this proximity.

"Maybe we could continue what we did in the office?”

But even you weren't strong enough, blushing profoundly you could only nod.

“Guys please, not in front of my food!”, George disrupted the moment and therefore caught Lucy's elbow in the ribs. You couldn’t help but laugh and shortly the other and even George joined in. It was nice to not spend Christmas alone.

After breakfast Lockwood showed you around the house, like he had promised. As you entered the living room the radio was playing an old song, you had loved as a child. You couldn’t help but hum along. Of course, this didn't go unnoticed by Lockwood.

“Let’s dance”, without waiting for your protest, he pulled you into his arms, which felt so nice. But you couldn’t dance. At the Fittes Party you and Lockwood had already danced and while he was a graceful dancer you had stopped counting the times you stepped on his toes.

“If you want to walk tomorrow without pain then we shouldn’t dance.”

But Lockwood didn’t think about letting you go. Slowly he started to sway with the music.

“Even walking with pain for 10 years would be worth it, if I could hold you in my arms for just a second”, he whispered in your hair and thereby successful making you smile the biggest smile of your entire life.

“You are not my boyfriend, so why are you saying this romantic thing to me?”

“So, you think I’m romantic?”

Of course, he concentrated on the second part of your sentence.

“That it was you focus on?”, looking at him and his beautiful brown eyes, you pulled up your eyebrows.

“I like you calling me ‘romantic’ more than calling me ‘not your boyfriend’.”

“I mean we could change it.” Sly you smiled up to him.

“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend”, Lockwood asked slowly as he couldn’t believe it.

“Maybe?”

“If you would, my answer would be ‘yes’.”

“Then I’m totally asking you to be my boyfriend.”

As an answer he just pulled you in for a kiss. But that was answer enough. You kissed till a flash of a camera interrupted you. Like deer caught in headlights you turned your heads, to see Lucy standing in the doorway, in her hands a camera and on her face a big smile.

“Don’t let me bother you. I just wanted to document memories.”

Giggling she walked away, and you turned to look back at Lockwood, who was already gazing at you.

“Like to continue where we stopped?”

“Can you give me a short recap, where we were before Lucy interrupted us?”

“Gladly”, gently cupping your face with his hands, Lockwood, your boyfriend, kissed you. Again, and again, and you were sure, that this was the best Christmas you ever experienced.

#anthony lockwood #lockwood & co #lockwood & co fanfic #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood netflix #fanfic #lockwood x reader

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