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black widow beach episode WHEN

[1d1195]

Sunflower

~7.2 k words

From Me: Requested by my 🍓-anon. Sorry it took some time. I took a couple liberties (mostly because I love food a lot so I couldn't make it taste bad hahahaha) I hope you like it! I'm going to post your ask with the request tomorrow. 💕 Right now it's just the one part (but I feel like some may want a second).

Warnings: fluffy and a bit of jealous Harry. Nothing too angsty though this time around.

Summary: Harry has a high paying job that allows him to eat at some of the finest restaurants in the city. But the little bistro that has good drinks and a great staff is by far his favorite. Or maybe it's the waitress he can't get out of his head that has him coming back so often.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Sarah looked skeptical.

“I swear,” Mitch smiled. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but the drinks are good and so are the apps.”

Harry watched the banter of his two best friends. “How did you even come across this place?” Sarah asked as Mitch held the door open for her to enter. Harry took hold of it so Mitch could follow after her. There were no more than fifteen tables and a bar. It was fairly dark but in a good way.

If anything, it contrasted sharply with the sunflowers at nearly every turn. There was a mural painted on the back wall of bright flowers against the dark paint. Each table had a bright blue glass vase with a single sunflower stem in the middle of the table. The aprons the staff wore were covered in a floral print of a garden of sunflowers. It was stunning. Bright and beautiful.

“Aptly named,” Sarah smirked.

Harry chuckled. “S’nice,” he agreed.

Harry and Sarah continued their observation while Mitch waited patiently at the host stand. “I came here for lunch with a client,” he said answering Sarah’s earlier question. “Their friend owns it.” After another moment they were brought to a table. There weren’t many people there; given they were there at two in the afternoon on a Saturday it wasn’t so surprising. The bar was nearly filled, several patrons seemed to be regulars as they got a say in what sporting event got to be on the TV. Only two other tables were filled and there was no need for a bustling staff. “I came for dinner, and it was full capacity with a line. But when you know the owner, you get a table early. They have a little outdoor patio around back too but it’s seasonal.”

The three of them looked over the menu in silence. Until Sarah broached the subject of getting one of every type of appetizer and then there was their daily debate of which appetizer was best and maybe they would have to do one of each since they wouldn’t be able to decide which was best.

Their debate was interrupted by the waitress coming over to introduce herself.

“Hi everyone, welcome to The Sunflower Bistro, have you been here before?”

“I have,” Mitch smiled. “We’re arguing over an appetizer, what do you think?”

Without pausing, she didn’t help the debate. “Oh, one of each,” she giggled.

“See! I told you!” Sarah lightly smacked Mitch’s arm.

This only made her smile grow. “Can I take your drink order while you narrow your choices?” She asked.

There was an exchange of words. Words Harry didn’t hear. But then Sarah and Mitch were looking at him expectantly.

“Harry?” Mitch asked.

“A drink, hello?” Sarah laughed.

Quickly he shook his head. “Sorry,” he cleared his throat, his eyes glancing down at the menu but unable to read anything. “Just water for now,” he murmured unable to make eye contact with her.

“I’ll be right back,” her voice was sweet and pretty.

“Are you alright?” Mitch asked.

“She’s beautiful,” Harry mumbled. “I can’t even look at her.”

When he saw her approach, he was immediately tongue-tied. Overwhelmed. It was like seeing the ocean for the first time. Or a garden. Or a painting in a museum. There wasn’t a way to pinpoint what made her so beautiful. It seemed to be everything. The way her hair was clipped behind her head and just a few soft pieces framed her cheeks. Her bright smile. Her sparkling eyes. The way the sunflower apron cinched her hips. All of it. Or none of it. She was beautiful. Overwhelmingly so. Harry swore he forgot how to breathe. He had been in love before—at least he thought he had been. This wasn’t comparable.

So he couldn’t even look at her.

Sarah giggled. Enjoying the way her friend’s face turned pink at the admission. Mitch smiled. “Aw Harry’s got a crush!”

“Shut up, she’ll hear!” Harry snapped and put the menu in front of his face, hiding from the rest of the restaurant.

“Oh my God,” Sarah laughed. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I could not look at her,” Harry mumbled putting the menu over his face.

“She’s very pretty,” Sarah agreed and reached out to squeeze Harry’s arm. “But you have to look at her.”

Harry’s heart was racing. Like he was sprinting on the treadmill or in the middle of a phone call with an important client. Harry had been nervous before. The exams in college, his first interview, on-boarding new clients. This wasn’t comparable either. “I really don’t think I can, Sarah.”

“Did we make any decisions?” Her kind voice returned, and Harry scanned the menu eagerly, his cheeks still flushed, he was sure.

“Honestly, no,” Sarah laughed. “We’ve been admiring how beautiful this place is.”

And you, Harry thought.

“Oh, I know, it’s practically dreamy working here. The sunflowers are the perfect flower. It’s so sunny and fun,” she explained.

“Have you worked here long?” Mitch asked.

“Yes, since it opened. My friend owns it. It’s like a family kind of thing around here. It’s so nice,” she looked so happy to talk about this place. Passionate. “Niall’s really nice about me going to school and getting me the shifts I want.”

“Oh, that’s so nice! What are you studying?”

Harry wanted to involve himself in the conversation, but he was so speechless by her kind sweet presence, it was impossible to think of a word to say to her. He was grateful his two friends were there to carry the flow of dialogue because it was apparent Harry was going to be useless in that regard.

“Harry also went for a degree in finance,” Sarah segued to look at Harry. He missed her response. That was evident. He would ask when she went back to place their orders what was said specifically.

He looked at her, fully. He hoped he wasn’t staring at her to the point that she wanted to hide and run away from him because he was being a creep. After a pause that was a brief longer than he would have liked, he cleared his throat. “I graduated a couple years ago. I work for a large accounting firm,” it was a miracle he didn’t stutter from how nervous he was. He was holding the menu still to keep his hands from shaking.

Her smile brightened. She looked genuinely happy for Harry. He imagined she was anything but disingenuous, but still. For a complete stranger, who could barely utter two sentences to her, she bubbled with excitement at this knowledge of getting to know him. “Oh! That’s amazing! Nice to meet you, Harry. I’m graduating this spring,” she explained. “I’m super nervous about the whole internship process...I feel like it’s super difficult and overwhelming.”

“Harry’s still in touch with the person he did his internship with,” Mitch volunteered.

He wasn’t. At least...not to the degree that Mitch was suggesting. “Well, I’ll have to give you my card,” she winked at him. “I’ll give you a few more minutes to decide on appetizers.”

Harry felt some kind of crushing relief to watch her walk away. Which was ridiculous because the moment she was gone, he realized how badly and stupidly he wanted her to come back. He could barely even talk to her, but her presence made him happy. Deliriously so.

Sighing, he turned to Sarah. “Am I ruining m’first impression?” He asked.

Sarah smiled and shook her head. “Not at all.”

Harry really hoped not. “I’ve never felt like this,” he mumbled and decided bare minimum, he needed to pick something to eat. At least he could repeat it in his head a few times before she returned and not embarrass himself while ordering.

Hopefully.

*

Like the perfect waitress, she came back to check their food was good and their drinks were refilled. Mitch was right. The drinks were good and so was the food. “Can I get you guys anything else?” She asked sweetly. Fortunately, Harry managed to order his own food without Sarah or Mitch’s help. He didn’t stammer and didn’t make a fool of himself in front of her.

“No thank you,” Sarah turned to Harry. “Did you want to give her your card as well?” She asked. Harry felt like he was having an allergic reaction. His skin felt hot, and he thought that his throat was closing. Part of him wanted to kick Sarah beneath the table but a small piece of him was grateful for her direction and encouragement because it was evident he couldn’t do this on his own. He was prepared to give her his whole wallet. Credit cards, cash, anything in there was hers.

“Er...right,” Harry fumbled, his hands shaking as he opened it.

Harry tried to keep his breath under control as their fingers brushed when she took the card from him. His heart was working triple the beating time it was supposed to from the soft touch that couldn’t have lasted more than a second. “Oh goodness, my card doesn’t look anything like this,” she frowned. “Please don’t judge how ridiculous it is, I thought it was cute and memorable,” she pulled a few cards from her apron pocket.

It was cute and memorable. He didn’t want her to change a thing. The top corners were webbed with a little sunflower vine. Otherwise, the card was white with a half-print, half-cursive font covered in blue. “Well, aren’t you a Jane-of-all-trades,” Sarah laughed. She had listed tutoring, babysitting, painting, lawn-mowing, cleaning, etc.

“Gotta pay the bills somehow,” she admitted. She sighed. “I’m grateful to Niall as I’ve steered away from most of those odd jobs that my dad taught me,” she laughed again. “Waitressing, despite everything, is a lot more stable while I’m still in school. I made that when I was fresh out of high school. It needs a serious update.”

“Harry, where did you make your business cards?” Mitch asked.

If this were a regular day and Harry wasn’t so tongue-tied and nervous, he probably would have thanked his friends for their effort to support him in being his wingman and wingwoman. But he was so out of sorts, so unbelievably captivated and captured by her, he couldn’t fully use his brain. It was embarrassing. If she had even an inkling that he liked her, she probably wasn’t going to reciprocate merely because he was so embarrassing to listen to. There was no way someone so pretty would like him and his inability to speak.

What would their dates even look like? Her voice was so nice, like a song he hadn’t heard since he was young. The kind of song that made him believe in love even though he was young. Her laugh was probably adorable. Her smile was adorable so it could only be so. But she would want conversation. Right? Was she just to chat about her day and her feelings and Harry wouldn’t be able to do anything but stare at her? Admiring how pretty she was?

Actually, that sounded like a pretty decent plan for Harry. But she deserved more.

So instead, he cleared his throat once more. “S’online. I’d have t’look up the website. But yours is memorable,” he assured her. “I like the colors.”

“Thanks, Harry,” God he loved the sound of her voice saying his name. Her adorable smile was so sweet he felt his heart melting. “It definitely needs an update now that I’m about to graduate though, please let me know if you find the website.”

Harry wanted to tell her that he would give her whatever she wanted for as long as they lived and then in their next life too. But instead, he simply nodded and tucked her card safely into his wallet.

*

“This is insane,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled the door out of the way. It had been two days since he left The Sunflower Bistro and the pretty, sunflowery girl he was completely enamored with after hardly speaking to her. While her phone number weighed heavily in his wallet, he couldn’t bring himself to call her. Worried he wouldn’t be able to get a word out when she answered.

How he thought he was going to talk to her without Sarah and Mitch as a buffer was beyond him, but he couldn’t walk past this place either knowing he could see her and try to make up for his tragic first impression. “Hey Harry!” She said walking by the hostess stand. “Nice to see you again! Niall, can you put him in my section?” She asked.

Harry felt the words die in his throat, so he was glad he didn’t have to speak to Niall.

“A regular, hmm? Took you long enough,” Niall called after her.

“Had to hold out for a good one!” She shouted back and disappeared behind a door.

Harry wondered if all those times he had been in love before were real. His chest was fluttering with some emotion he hadn’t felt before then. It was a longing that filled every ounce of his lungs, every cell of his blood. Every inch of him. Like some kind of homing sound was coming from her and echoing in his body. He felt so unbelievably whole when he looked at her. Like he was seen.

Niall brought Harry to a table and smiled at him as he left.

“Hey! I was hoping you’d text or call, I figured it was my crummy card that deterred you. Or maybe it was unreadable,” that laugh of hers was a melody Harry wasn’t going to forget for the rest of his life. She leaned on the opposite side of the booth looking at him. Her hair was pulled back the same way as it was the other night. Silky and pretty. Harry wanted to slide his fingers through it more than anything. Her smile that had haunted all his thoughts at work and made him grin at his computer screen like a lunatic was also still just as earth shatteringly beautiful as last time. Made him tongue-tied just as he was last time.

“Um...yeah, no...,” he managed to smile at her joke. “M’jus’...” he shook his head trying to think of a reasonable excuse that would make any sense as to why he hadn’t called the pretty girl yet.

“Hey, no worries; I’m sure work keeps you busy!” Her voice was cheerful. “I’m glad to see you, is all. Are your friends coming?” His heart nearly stopped that she was glad to see him.

“Not this time,” he hoped that wouldn’t disappoint her because then he would call Mitch and Sarah and order them over. He still had a right mind to do so. Seemed to be the only way he would be able to talk to her more than a few mumbled words.

“Alright, well I’ll let you mull over the menu while I grab you a water. Unless you want something else?”

Drinking alcohol around her might make him fully mute. Or make him spill every thought he had. Without his friends as a buffer, both seemed heinous. “Water’s good.”

“I’ll be right back,” she flitted off like she was floating. Harry believed she was an angel so that made sense.

“C’mon Harry,” he mumbled to himself looking over the menu deciding what he would try today. He was fortunate the food was so good, and it would give him an excuse to come back more times than probably necessary so he could see her again.

“Here you are!” She practically chirped, setting his glass of water in front of him. She leaned against the opposite side of the booth again. “Anything look good?” She asked.

Her.

“Um...m’a fan of street corn,” he scanned the menu again.

“That’s probably my favorite app on there—or the pretzel bites with queso. It shouldn’t work but it does. The veggie soup here is criminally underrated but it’s not really soup season so no fault there. I’ll give you a couple more minutes,” she sauntered off again with her kind smile.

Harry wondered what her favorite song was and why she got into finance. He wanted to ask her what her least favorite subject was in school and what kind of music she listened to while she was cooking. Knowing her favorite candle and what kind of shampoo she used seemed like critical information he needed to know. He wanted to know how many siblings she had and whether or not she would want two kids or three.

All of which was ridiculous.

And further proof Harry had never been in love with anyone before he saw her.

*

Harry visited on Mondays and Fridays. It was a good way to start his week and a great way to end his week. Seeing her bookended by the workweek was nothing short of perfect.

He did this for three weeks. Niall merely smiled, as if he knew why he was there. Harry could feel his cheeks turn pink each time the staff gave him a knowing smile. It was obvious he was there to see her. To be placed in her section. “Hey Harry!” She chirped when he sat at his regular table.

Mitch and Sarah joined him twice more since the day they brought him. He was less tongue-tied but nearly just as shy. They gave him an immense amount of shit for being so smitten. But Sarah thought it was adorable. “You could just ask her out.”

“S’creepy,” he grumbled. “I doubt a waitress wants t’be hit on by their customer.”

“Right, coming twice a week just to see her isn’t creepy,” Mitch eyed him suspiciously as he sipped his drink.

Harry sighed in frustration and rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye. “I jus’—”

“Hey guys,” she nearly cooed so sweetly. Her cheeks turned pink. “I’m running a little behind today. I’m really sorry. This has been the longest double in the world,” her smile was still adorable. But she did look tired. Poor thing. “We’re down a server. And a line cook,” the exhaustion she felt was palpable.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Sarah cooed. “Harry, scoot over, let her sit,” she ordered.

Harry did immediately. Simultaneously terrified and excited to be so close to her. “Oh, it’s alright. I just—”

“Seriously, darling,” Mitch smiled. “Sit,” he encouraged.

She did.

The warmth of her body rolled off her and wafted over Harry in waves. It was like a gentle hug. His heart was rapidly beating, as it always did but somehow even faster now that she was so close to him. “Thank you, my feet are killing me,” she sighed. “I need new shoes, but my car just ate up a big chunk of my paycheck,” she frowned. “When it rains it pours right?”

Harry was trying to figure out the best course of action to help her on every front. He already imagined her tip was going to be exorbitant and he hoped she wouldn’t be upset by that—because he truly wanted to help her. “Have y’eaten yet?” He asked softly.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “No, I have been running around like crazy. Totally missed my chance at lunch.”

“S’not good, love,” Harry frowned. He wanted to call her Miss Sunflower or something similar, but he had one neuron still keeping him sane and decided ‘love’ was more neutral than not.

She nodded in agreement. “I know, I shouldn’t even be sitting. I’m sorry to lay all that on you guys. You’re just the first nice group I’ve had all day. It’s like a break in itself—not that I won’t do what you need and—”

“Oh please,” Sarah rolled her eyes. “We can just fill this table for you if that will make your life easier. Don’t worry about us,” she assured her.

The relief on her face was so sweet. Harry struggled to not wrap her in a hug beside him. “Thank you guys. It’s so nice to see you. I’ve never had my own regulars before,” her smile was so cute Harry wanted to kiss every inch of her face. His skin felt warm sitting so close to her. Snaking his arm around her waist would be so easy, so effortless. “I’ll get you a round of drinks?” She asked as she stood from her seat beside Harry. “Anything to start with today?”

“Pretzel bites,” Harry blurted quickly. “Please.”

He hoped he could convince her to sit and have a few when they came to the table. “My favorite,” she grinned knowingly.

*

When Harry sat in her section, she knew it was going to be a good day. His sweet smile, his easy-going nature, and just his kind presence made her shift immensely better. “He’s here again,” Niall sang as he headed to the kitchen where she was putting together a to-go order for one of her tables.

Her cheeks warmed under Niall’s sing-song tone. “If your food wasn’t so good he wouldn’t be here.”

“Darling, he’s not here for the food,” Niall sounded the slightest bit exasperated. He had repeated himself of the same notion since the second time Harry showed up to be seated in her section. “If he was truly here for the food, would he have left you a massive tip like that to get new shoes?”

The implication was there, and maybe she was having a little more trouble ignoring it after getting way more money from him and his friends than she had ever gotten while waitressing. Her achy feet felt so much better with new shoes too. So, part of her struggled to ignore the fact that Harry was maybe, possibly, there because she was.

Harry never made her feel uncomfortable. In fact, she felt nothing but comfort by seeing him. He was quiet, sweet, and very easy to look at. It took considerable strength for her to not stand at his table forthe entire time he was seated in her section. Mondays and Fridays were her favorite days of the week. Chatting with him (even if he seemed a little shy at times) was the best part of her shifts. His smile was so charming. She wanted to tell him everything about her reflexively. It was completely disarming. Or maybe it was how green and deep his eyes were that nearly made her voice die in her throat. It took a lot of effort to remember her job was to go get drinks and food for him at regular intervals.

She really thought he wanted no part of her when she didn’t even get a text message from him after procuring one of her lame cards. Certainly, with silly little flowers and dumb odd jobs listed, he wanted to steer clear of her. But instead, he showed up a few days later in her section. It made her stomach twist with nervous butterflies flitting inside. There were a thousand thoughts running through her head as she admired her handsome customer from afar.

“Hi Harry,” she smiled sweetly as she approached his table. “How are you?” She asked politely.

“Good, how are you?” He answered.

“Good,” she responded. “I got new shoes,” she pointed a toe toward him for him to look at the new sneakers she chose. “That was extremely kind and overwhelming. You didn’t need to do that,” she bit the inside of her lip. “I tried to stop you guys from leaving once I realized, but Niall—”

“S’nothing, love,” his cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink at the compliment. Her heart skipped a beat at how adorable he was and looked. “Was a long day for you. I jus’ wanted t’help a little.”

She nodded feeling gratitude overwhelm her—it was thick in her throat. “Seriously, thank you,” she hoped he understood how appreciative she was. “No one’s ever done something like that for me before.”

“S’really no trouble,” he assured her with a smile that melted each of her organs to a puddle. She was lucky she stayed upright.

“I’ll...I’ll be right back,” she turned and bumped into the table that was behind her causing the chair to scrape across the floor.

“Are y’okay, love?” Harry asked suddenly behind her. He gently touched the back of her arm creating a plethora of fireworks on her skin and in her heart. She shook her head and blushed nervously.

“I’m good. Clumsy me. I’ll get you your drink,” she nearly sprinted toward the bar so as not to embarrass herself further.

*

She was chatting with Harry, leaning against the booth. It was easy. Harry wasn’t a man of many words, but he was a great listener and when he did talk, everything he said was so kind and genuine. It was like talking to an old friend. Someone who just knew what she was thinking without her having to say much. There was this familiarity that was so warm it wrapped around her like a blanket. It made her feel so comfortable in his presence.

She never wanted to stop talking to him. Which was probably why she didn’t. Poor Harry listened to her chat his ear off for hours during the time he came to visit over the couple months of the semester. His quiet, “what’s that like?” Or, “do you enjoy this class?” And, “do you have a recommendation?” just kept her talking and talking.

It was hard for her to fathom Harry was there for her. Harry was graduated, had a real job, and made a ton of money it seemed if he was willing to tip a poor waitress an obscene amount of money for new sneakers. His clothes were nice, and his hair was perfectly styled. He always looked like he was ready for a business call.

His friends were extremely nice and friendly. They were also put together in a way that she never dreamed she could be so it was hard to imagine a situation in which Harry might possibly, kind of, have a crush on her the way she had one on him.

She was mid conversation with Harry. The fall semester had end and she was going to pick up more shifts somehow but was definitely going to catch up on sleep as well. She was praying that Harry would put her out of her pining misery and tell her he had a girlfriend one of these days. “You have to try this new dish! It has the brussels sprouts you like and—”

She was swept directly off the floor mid-sentence and was wrapped in a hug. It was familiar in a way that was different than the familiarity of Harry. Because she was used to this kind of hug. “Hey beautiful,” he cooed in her ear.

She smiled excitedly. “Hi, Jake! I thought you weren’t starting till this weekend!”

“I’m not, but I was nearby and thought I could use a dose of pretty,” he winked and headed toward the kitchen without another word.

She blushed and shook her head. “Sorry,” she murmured and turned to look at Harry again and finish the sentence she had started. “Anyway, the brussels spr—”

Harry had come to the restaurant in a lot of moods over the last few months. Tired, frustrated, happy, stressed, excited...she was pretty good at reading his expression and deciding what he needed or wanted to make his day better. This expression was unreadable. His jaw was tensed creating a sharp angle at his jawline she was sure it could have cut glass. His eyes were blank but watching her intensely. All of his muscles appeared taut—his posture ramrod straight. It almost looked uncomfortable. “Are you okay?” She asked softly.

Harry blinked, shook his head quickly, and cleared his throat. “Uh...yeah. Sorry,” he reached for his glass of water and took a large gulp. “Y’were saying something ‘bout brussels sprouts,” he reminded her.

She bit the inside of her lip feeling a shift in the air around them. Something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Oh, right...just...I think you’ll like the special.”

He nodded. Still completely unreadable. “I’ll try it, thank you.”

“I’ll go...put that in,” she murmured and headed toward the kitchen.

The kitchen was still greeting Jake when she entered. Everyone was listening to him recount his semester abroad. “Whoa, did you see a ghost?” Niall asked, doing a double take when she entered.

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “No, it’s nothing,” she punched her code into the computer and tapped the meal for Harry.

“Did Harry tell you he has a girlfriend?” Niall pressed.

“No,” she muttered, her cheeks burning red. She grabbed a plate off the shelf for the other table she was waiting on and made sure it had all the extra sides and things. She grabbed the second dish and placed it on her arm.

“Who’s Harry?” Jake asked.

“The love of her life,” Niall told him.

“Shut up, Niall.”

He chuckled. “Oh? Were you going to tell me about him?”

“I’m a bit busy right now.”

“You couldn’t text me?” Jake asked. Jake had been her best friend on the job since Niall opened the sunflowery place. They were a great dynamic duo. But Jake was into dating a lot of different women and that was totally fine and his prerogative. She didn’t judge him at all for being young and doing what he wanted. But she wanted no part of his love life. So they remained friends and it was truly better that way. He would bail her out if a customer was being rude or coming on too strong. She helped him with his math homework and made sure he remembered to drink something other than protein shakes and alcohol on the weekend.

“There’s nothing to write home about,” she mumbled, lying through her teeth and feeling devastated that something in the air shifted between them in a matter of seconds.

Niall snorted in disbelief. She glared at him. Jake smiled impishly while she gathered the final fixings for the table. “Where is he?” He asked as she pushed on the door.

“Jake,” she choked nearly losing the plate in her left hand.

“Niall, do you know him?” He looked expectantly at him. He smirked, opening his mouth to give him the details.

“Uh—”

“Niall!” She snapped. Niall closed his mouth immediately and shrugged at Jake.

She sighed with relief and pushed through to the restaurant floor. “Table thirty-four!” he shouted, muffled by the closed door. She glanced back to see him hovering over the computer.

It took every ounce of self-control to hold onto the dishes in her arms. She wanted to scream. She hurried to her table to deliver the food, prayed they wouldn’t ask for anything additionally, and then she nearly took out another waiter while running for Harry’s table on the other side of the restaurant.

Jake was letting go of Harry’s hand as she approached, and she shoved Jake out of the way. “I don’t know what he said but it’s not true.”

Harry smirked, a good sign of his normal smile and demeanor. “Y’not friends?” He questioned.

She punched Jake in the arm who barely registered the motion other than lightly rubbing his arm without breaking eye contact with Harry. “Not anymore,” she grumbled.

“She’s my work wife,” Jake said wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Can’t get her to commit to being my actual wife.”

“Don’t want any diseases,” she muttered. The blank, cold stare in Harry’s eyes returned and she felt so warm she tried to push against Jake but was unsuccessful. “Harry is also in finance,” she explained. “He offered to help me make a new business card—”

“Thank God,” Jake interrupted.

“—and he might know someone for an internship.”

Harry’s answer was gentle even though the cold stare didn’t waver. “Don’t think y’need t’change the business card all that much, love. S’sweet.”

“Childish and unprofessional,” she said pointedly.

“Agreed,” Jake squeezed her to his side. “Thanks for keeping her company while I was gone,” he said. Harry wasn’t a man of many words. But his facial expressions made up for it. He smiled politely, nodded, and glanced at his phone ringing.

“I have t’take this,” his voice was tight, apologetic.

“Of course, let’s go,” she yanked on Jake and headed toward the kitchen again.

“Not sure why you like him, he’s pretty cold,” Jake taunted as they returned to the kitchen.

“Cold?” Niall asked. “Harry makes her feel all warm and fuzzy,” he teased. She wrinkled her nose and definitely felt warm at the insinuation.

“He’s... not himself today,” she admitted. “I don’t know why,” she frowned and turned to Niall. “It’s weird.”

“Darling, you can’t be this brilliant and that stupid at the same time,” Niall pinched the bridge of his nose.

Her frowned deepened and she felt resentment for the notion of being stupid. “What are you—”

“He’s jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Of Jake,” Niall rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She snorted. “Why?” She blinked.

“Look at me,” Jake smiled proudly and gestured toward himself self-assuredly.

She eyed him briefly up and down. “What? You look like a tool who’s been abroad,” she remarked.

Jake shook his head, unaffected by her insult. “Think Harry might think I’m competition.”

“Why would he think that?”

“I mean, I did call you my wife.”

Niall laughed. “Oh God, poor Harry.”

Her face flamed. “I said we were friends!” She pouted. “Oh my God. Go back abroad,” she shoved him toward the door. “You are the worst.”

“Easy, love,” Jake continued to taunt, this time in Harry’s accent. “I can fix it,” he offered and headed back for Harry’s table quicker than she could catch him. But when they got there, his table was empty. A note scribbled on a napkin in Harry’s writing. Family emergency. Sorry :( Was looking forward to the brussels sprouts. You can have it on me. Next time. He left cash for the food and a tip anyway. Even though he never got his meal.

She pocketed the money and punched Jake in the arm one more time for good measure.

*

“You’re being ridiculous, you know that, right?” Sarah asked. “I know we aren’t best friends with her or anything, but she’s really nice. She wouldn’t lead you on like that.”

Harry knew that. Really, he did. But the emotion he was feeling wasn’t rational. Jake called her his wife and had his arm around her. He hugged her like he loved her. Harry was certain Jake loved her. Even in a way that wasn’t necessarily romantic, but it was...unfair. Unfair that Harry hadn’t told her he liked her. Nervous that he would make her uncomfortable by hitting on her while she was working.

“She wasn’t leading me on at all,” Harry murmured.

“All the more of a reason to not be ridiculous,” Sarah and Mitch had taken turns telling him it was childish to ignore her after all those months of chatting with her and entrenching himself as a regular and then to just not because he was jealous.

“Just because you’re jealous—”

“M’not jealous,” he grumbled.

“Right, because someone who’s not jealous would leave before he got his food because her friend called her his work wife. Someone who’s not jealous would suddenly stop being her regular after months.”

Like clockwork.

Harry was lying on the couch at Sarah and Mitch’s place face down trying to ignore the feeling of his heart breaking. No one said anything for several minutes. Sarah was working on cleaning the kitchen when Harry arrived, and Mitch suggested getting pizza. Harry wasn’t even hungry. Well, he was, but he wanted brussels sprouts.

“I might be jealous,” he admitted.

“Hallelujah,” Sarah sighed. “Talk to her.”

“Don’t y’think she’ll be grossed out that ‘ve basically been...stalking her because I like her?”

“Hello!” Sarah nearly shouted. “She likes you too!”

Harry was flooded with warmth at the idea. “She’s never said anything,” he mumbled.

“You’re her customer,” Mitch rolled his eyes. “As worried you’ve been about flirting with her while she’s working. She’s probably just as worried.”

It couldn’t have been that easy or simple.

Could it?

*

Harry was reading his schedule for the day on his computer. They were regular appointments with clients that he had in on a regular basis. He had just returned from the breakroom after an hour-long meeting and was seeing what was next or if he would have some downtime for paperwork in before his next client. The schedule looked normal. Except for the one meeting blocked off for ten-thirty. “Hey, Kate,” he called to his secretary outside his office. “Do y’know who scheduled—”

But Harry wasn’t paying attention to the time, and it was already ten-twenty-five and she walked into his office.

He dropped the pen he was holding above the calendar. His lips parted as she entered.

“Your ten-thirty is here!” Kate called.

Harry was going to fire her.

It had been two weeks since he had seen her. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but she looked more beautiful. Or maybe it was because his office was light, mostly the sun coming through the windows and made her practically glow. Like she really was a sunflower. “Hi,” he murmured.

She wasn’t in her typical waitressing uniform. Her hair wasn’t pulled back. Harry didn’t know she could be more beautiful than when she was waitressing, but she was wearing regular clothes, a blue dress that fell to her knees and she seriously took on the beauty of a sunflower, it was astounding. “Hi,” she said.

“Y’can close the door,” he offered. “D’you want something t’drink?” He turned away from her and heard the door click shut. He went to the mini fridge on the back windowsill in the corner of his office holding a few small bottles of water. “Y’can sit,” he gestured to the chair. She did. He placed the bottle in front of her and sat across from her behind his desk. They were both silent for a moment. Harry took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Harry, I have this absurd love for numbers. People have looked at me funny since I was young. It’s like this really complicated puzzle in my head and I just want to solve it. None of the little parts make sense together until they do. The answer is so beautiful when all those pieces click, and the flow of your logic comes down to this one singular answer and it’s just perfect.”

Harry wondered if there had ever been a poem written about numbers. Or if what she said was the very first one. Harry was pretty passionate about his work, and he was glad he made pretty good money. But he didn’t think he could ever chat about numbers the way she did.

“I feel that way when I’m around you. That all this logic just beautifully clicks into place. You make me feel normal for liking numbers. You’re extremely kind and you don’t...” she bit the inside of her lip and looked at her hands in her lap. “I don’t know why I feel this way but you...you stopped coming to eat, I don’t know why, and I don’t know what I did. I want to fix it because I’ve enjoyed getting to know you and I thought we were friends. Then we weren’t. I liked picking out which special of the week you would enjoy. Maybe I’m too young or something to be friends? I can’t help that. Maybe it was because Jake called me child—”

“Don’t,” he shook his head unable to hear the name.

“So it is about him,” she frowned. “I don’t...Harry, it’s not fair to keep me out of the loop about what you’re feeling! I can’t fix whatever I did—”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why did you stop coming to eat?” her voice cracked.

Harry wanted to jump out a window for making her feel insecure and nervous. If she cried he was done for. He sighed exasperated with his own miscommunication. His cheeks felt warm as they always did when he embarrassed himself around her. “Y’not too young,” he looked at her, but it felt like he was looking right through her. Like he could see right into her brain and read every word that was waiting to exit her mouth. “You’re not childish,” he affirmed. “You are...” He shook his head. “You are perfect,” he assured her. “I didn’t want t’ask y’out while y’were working. S’kinda rude. Then Jake called you his wife—”

“I’m gonna kill him,” she whispered.

Harry ignored her comment (even though it made his heart feel the slightest bit better). “—I really like you. I think you’re way too smart for me. Way too kind. And y’work in a place surrounded with beautiful sunflowers and I can’t stop looking at you,” his heart felt heavy, the butterflies in his stomach were trying to escape. He used every ounce of his effort to read her unreadable expression as he watched her process everything he said.

“You think I’m beautiful?” She whispered.

He snorted. Of all the things she could focus on at a moment like that. “Love, y’have t’know you are.”

She shook her head. “I’m always sweaty and working when you see me.”

“Well seems y’had some proper prep time today,” he looked at her with a soft gaze that he hoped didn’t seem too excessive. “Y’look more beautiful.”

Her eyes seemed to melt with relief. “You were jealous?” She asked.

“Course I was,” he nodded easily. Like it made the most sense in the world.

“But... you never said anything.”

“I didn’t want t’make you uncomfortable,” he repeated. “I can’t imagine how many people hit on you while you’re working.”

She frowned. “Naturally not the person I want,” she grumbled cutely. Harry felt lighter. He smiled.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

She shifted awkwardly in her seat but smiled. “I uh...I came here to tell you off.”

He chuckled. “I would deserve that,” he agreed. “I... I have something for you,” he opened the top right drawer to his desk. “Saw it, and...it's not much, but it reminded me of you," his eyes were so gentle it made her heart skip a beat. He held out the little cardboard rectangle. It might not have "been much" but it was everything. A thin gold chain, a sunflower crystal pendant the lightest shade of yellow. "Love?" he asked quietly after a moment of her staring at the most thoughtful gift she had ever received. For another moment they just gazed at one another. Unmoving. Harry was wearing a button down, rolled up to his elbows. He looked at ease, finally. His cheeks flushed. His eyes so green and beautiful. She could barely breathe.

Then finally, Harry spoke again.

"Would you like t'go out with me?"

--

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[puckinghischier]

Choices

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: jack proves that he will always choose reader, no matter what anyone has to say

notes: so, the first part of this is literally my favorite thing i’ve ever written. the ending? meh. i don’t hate it, but i definitely think it could have been done better, i just struggle so hard with endings 😭. i also lowkey don’t like the title, but literally couldn’t think of a different one. anyways, i hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼

can be read as a part 2 to this fic, but can also be read by itself

request: Could you write something with Jack getting defensive/choosing her? Maybe he gets cornered by an ex flame or someone about what makes reader so special to get him to commit to a serious relationship when he didn't with her

[6.7k]

“Are you sure I don’t need to dress up tonight? I know you said they’re just some old family friends, but I want to make a good impression,” you question Jack, standing in front of the full-length mirror propped against the wall.

You’re wearing a pale, yellow sundress with daisies imprinted all across the fabric. Jack insisted the Lawsons were just old friends of the family, having owned the house down the street since he was just a kid.

Since meeting Jack’s family last year, you’ve been his plus one to every single trip he’s made home. At thanksgiving he brought you home for a quick, two day trip to meet his grandparents and a few pairs of aunts and uncles, before having to fly out again because of his game schedule. Around Christmas the two of you split your time, spending the actual holiday with your family, then flying to meet Jack’s family for New Year’s activities, where you met several cousins and old school friends of Jack’s.

This year, you’re celebrating the Fourth of July in Michigan, finally getting to experience the infamous Hughes lake house. Jack was able to convince you to spend an entire month here at the large house, telling you the trip was for the Fourth festivities, but suggesting you leave a few weeks beforehand, wanting you to get the full lake house experience.

You had spent your days switching between joining his family on the large pontoon boat sitting at the end of their dock and going out on adventures with Jack alone on the pair of Jet skis Quinn had bought after his first paycheck came in during his rookie year. A few nights a week, Jack would tell you to put on something nice, showing you around the small town a few miles away from the house, taking you to each of his favorite childhood spots for dinner.

One night he had told you to put on the nicest dress you brought, then proceeded to take you to an old, beach themed bar. He sat across from you at the high top table in a collared shirt and khakis, the rest of the patrons around you in their bathing suit cover ups or shorts and t-shirts.

You scolded him, telling him you two looked like fools in there, all dressed up to eat fried seafood. He laughed, telling you the only fool in the room was him, because he was “foolishly and wholly in love with you.” You rolled your eyes at his mushy-ness, a blush making its way to your cheeks at the same time.

That memory, however, is the reason you no longer trust Jack when he tells you to either dress up or dress down for dinners. Including tonight.

“I promise, you don’t have to dress up. You could wear your bathing suit for all I care,” he calls out from the bathroom where he’s ‘fixing’ his hair, which usually means brushing it and then ruffling it around with his hands. “I mean, mom might not be too happy if you’re sitting at the dinner table in just a bikini, but I’d sure enjoy the show.”

You scoff at his words, turning to go and stand in the doorway of the ensuite, crossing your arms.

“I’m being serious, J. I want to make a good impression on these people. They’re really good friends of your parents. Your mom was telling me how you all used to spend almost the entire summer together, constantly over at one another’s houses for dinner and fire talks,” you remember how excited Ellen was to be having her friends over for dinner tonight, claiming she hadn’t seen them in years because of how busy their lives had gotten.

Ellen also mentioned they had a daughter around your and Jack’s age who was in with her parents for the summer. Her name is Sarah and she’s a department director of some big advertisement company in New York. She stopped coming around as often around the same time Jack got drafted to the Devils, according to Ellen. Her job being too demanding for her to make the trip every summer.

You were excited to meet yet another person that knew Jack as a kid. You were hoping to rope a few stories out of her over the course of dinner, wanting to know as much as you can about Jack’s childhood from those around him. Sometimes you really hate the fact that you haven’t known Jack his whole life. You count yourself one of the luckiest people alive to be able to share his life with him now, but you’re always picturing him growing up, wanting to know every detail of what makes Jack, Jack.

Quinn and Luke are always eager to tell you anything you want to know about Jack, from the time he wanted to be “TP man” for Halloween and proceeded to wrap his entire body in toilet paper, wearing the empty rolls on his hands, to the time he wanted to ask his eighth-grade crush out on a date, but instead blurted out that he had to go home to massage their dad’s feet.

You always enjoyed hearing stories about him from people that weren’t his mischievous brothers, though. Like when his grandma told you about the time she got home to see that Jack had rearranged her kitchen cabinets, placing everything he saw her use on a regular basis closer to where she could reach it after watching her drop her favorite mug while trying to put it away on the second highest shelf that morning. Or when his best friend from high school told you about the time Jack gave him a ride home from practice, stopping in to say hello to his parents when Jack heard his little sister crying in her room because she couldn’t figure out her math homework. Jack stayed over for nearly two hours to help the little girl with her multiplication table and gave her words of encouragement the entire time.

You knew Jack was someone special, his calming energy easing your nerves from the first time you ever spoke to him. Hearing the stories that confirm he’s been this way his whole life, from the people that have known him far longer than you, though, makes you burst with so much love for the man you think your heart might actually explode one day.

“And I’m being serious, Sunshine, what you’re wearing is fine and won’t change the fact that they’re going to absolutely love you, just like everyone else does,” Jack walks over to stand in front of you.

You uncross your arms, letting them fall to your sides. Jack reaches down and takes each one of your hands into his, stepping forward slightly.

“I just…I care about how the people that know you view me. It’s important to me that the people important to you know that I love you, not that I’m just trying to ride on the back of some hot shot hockey player,” you whisper, referencing a blog post you were sent by one of your coworkers back in Jersey, asking if the girl in the picture was, in fact, you sitting on Jack’s lap in a crowded bar you went to for a post-game celebration.

The post talked about how you had been seen with Jack at a few games and were seen leaving several bars with him over the course of a few weeks early into your relationship. The blog site was a silly, hockey gossip blog, more concerned about who the players were sleeping with than any of the games themselves, but the accusation made your heart sink nonetheless. You knew you were with Jack for no reason other than you love him and he makes you feel safe, comfortable, and loved. Jack knows you’re not with him for his money, and anyone close to him knows you’re not with him for his money or fame.

He could quit hockey tomorrow and it wouldn’t change even an ounce of your feelings towards him. With or without hockey, he’s still your Jack. The Jack that makes you honey lavender tea every night because he knows it helps you sleep. The Jack that somehow manages to bring you flowers after every home game, no matter how late it is. The Jack that insisted you move in with him after your lease ended because his apartment is closer to your new job, but really because he was tired of not coming home to you every night. The Jack that showed up to your graduation this spring, bringing nearly his whole team and his family, the group cheering so loud when you walked across the stage everyone in attendance laughed, the person handing you your diploma commenting “sounds like you have a few fans out there.”

Even though you know that Jack knows, and his family knows, each time you meet someone new from his life, you feel the need to prove yourself. It’s part of the reason you were so anxious to meet his parents all those months ago. You worry that each person you meet has seen or read an article like the one you were sent. You worry they’ll think you’re not right for Jack, or that you’re only with him to get a taste of the popularity and lifestyle that comes along with his job. All you want is to show them how much you love him for him, and how you never want to leave his side.

Jack looks down at you, bringing your joined hands up to his mouth, pulling them together and kissing your knuckles.

“I promise you, no one here thinks that,” he starts, his words oozing with sincerity. “There is not a single person that matters to me in my life more than you. And absolutely no one’s opinion of you matters to me other than your own. Do you think you’re with me for the wrong reasons?” He asks you, waiting for you to answer him.

You shake your head no, breaking his eye contact.

“Hey, look at me,” he squeezes your hands that are still resting near his mouth, bringing your eyes back to his. “Then absolutely nothing else matters, okay? I know who you are, and you know who you are. Last time I checked, we’re the only two in this relationship, so that’s the only two people I’ll ever be looking to for opinions concerning my choices in this relationship, got it?”

You nod, a little embarrassed you were ever worried in the first place after his small speech, but still needing the hear his words nonetheless.

You’re still looking up at him, opening your mouth to tell him how much you love him when your stomach growls between the two of you, loud enough you nearly jump back.

Jack’s eyes flicker down to your stomach and back up to your eyes, the amusement in them making the blue shade shine even brighter.

“On that note, let’s go get you something to eat,” he chuckles, kissing your forehead before dropping one of your hands, the other still intwined with yours, pulling you out of the room behind him.

Jack led you down to the kitchen, digging around in the fridge to sneak you a snack before everyone sat down for dinner, knowing the meal wouldn’t be ready for at least another hour.

After he was satisfied that you weren’t going to starve, thanks to the small bowl of fruit he found, the two of you walked out to the back deck, joining everyone else.

The Lawsons had already arrived, Jim and Ellen standing on the other side of the large deck, conversing with Mr. and Mrs. Lawson separately.

Mrs. Lawson is a short, slim woman. Her hair is flawlessly styled into a ‘looks lazy but really took an hour’ up do, wearing a light purple, short sleeve pleated dress that fell just above her ankles, a simple pair of sandals on her feet.

Her husband is a tall man with salt and pepper hair, wearing a matching polo shirt and khaki shorts, a pair of Hey Dude brand shoes on his feet.

As soon as the two of you walked out onto the porch, Ellen was immediately halting her conversation to introduce you to the guests.

“Oh! There they are! Aren’t they just dolls? Look at them!” she gushed, walking over to greet the two of you.

You smile warmly at her, your relationship with Jack’s mom almost as dear to you as your relationship with your own. The two of you were able to sit and talk with one another during the hockey game her and Jim had come into town for the first time you met them. You both were invested in the game itself, considering all three Hughes boys were on the ice that night, but the intermissions were full of conversations and stories. You left the rink that night feeling like you had gained another mother, exchanging numbers with Ellen and promising to keep in touch. You now have weekly phone calls with Ellen, her interest in your life and well being matching that of her interest in her son’s.

“Mom, we literally saw you an hour ago on the boat, calm down,” Jack tells her, earning soft smack to his chest from you.

“Don’t be a grump, Jack. She’s telling us how good we look and you choose now to suddenly act like you don’t love being told you look pretty,” you scold.

Jack looks down at you with his mouth slightly open, putting on his best fake offended face.

“See, I told you she keeps him in check for me. Now I don’t have to carry the burden all by myself anymore,” Ellen tells Mrs. Lawson, earning a laugh from the woman standing just behind her.

You and Jack continue to have a small stare down until he conceded, choosing to flash a smile at you instead, sticking his tongue out like a child and earning a small giggle from you.

“Y/N, this is Deborah, but we all call her Deb. Deb, this is Y/N, my new baby girl,” Ellen breaks up yours and Jack’s moment, introducing you to Mrs. Lawson.

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you Mrs. Lawson,” you say, removing your hand from Jack’s so you could step forward and give a small, greeting hug to the woman in front of you.

“Oh honey, Mrs. Lawson was my mother-in-law, please, call me Deb,” she tells you as she pulls back from the hug.

“Okay, Deb is it,” you laugh, stepping back beside Jack.

“C’mere, I need a hug from you too, Jack,” she motions Jack over to her, your boyfriend walking over to give her a slightly longer hug than you shared with her. “My, you’ve grown up, haven’t you? Last time I saw you, you were just getting ready to declare yourself draft eligible. Now look at you, the real deal.”

Jack blushes as he steps back towards you, knowing how shy he gets when complimented.

He may be cocky on the ice and in interviews, but you’ve learned that when it comes to the people that are close to him, Jack is extremely humble. He turns a light shade of pink any time you compliment how well he played after a game, or when his mom calls to tell him she watched his game on tv and cheered so loud she woke their cat up anytime he scored a goal.

“Just enjoy playing the game, is all,” he slips his hand back into yours. You give it a light squeeze.

“Ron, quit talking golf and get over here! Come say hi to Jack and his girlfriend!” Deb turns and shouts to her husband behind her. Both Mr. Lawson and Jim leave their spot by the heating grill and walk over to join your small group.

“Jack, how are ya, boy?” Mr. Lawson walks up, pulling Jack from your hold, bringing him in by his arm for what you call a ‘guy’ hug, each having one arm slug over the other’s shoulders, their clasped hands trapped between their chests.

“Getting by alright. Happy to have a bit of a break. Couldn’t wait to show Y/N here the ways of the lake house,” Jack motions to where you stand slightly behind him.

“Oh gosh, where are my manners. Hi, sweetheart, I’m Ron,” Mr. Lawson sticks his hand out towards you, shaking it softly.

“Hi, Jack’s told me a lot about you two. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Lawson” you reference both of the Lawsons, repeating part of your greeting to Deb.

“Oh, no, Mr. Lawson is my father, I’m just Ron, dear,” he mirrors his wife’s earlier statement, stepping over to place his arm around her waist.

You chat with the couple a bit longer, noticing after a few minutes that Quinn and Luke are nowhere to be found. Neither was their daughter Ellen had mentioned earlier.

“Not to interrupt, but where are Quinn and Luke?” you ask just as Ellen finishes telling Ron and Deb about a recent cruise her and Jim had been on.

“Oh, they took Sarah out for a spin on the boat before dinner. She said she missed the water, so away they went,” Deb explains, looking over to Jack. “She’s so excited to see you again, Jack. She always talks about wanting to get across the bridge to see a game, but you know her, a workaholic and all.”

You sense a slight rigidness in Jack’s body language at the mention of Sarah. He responds with a simple “Yeah, that’s a shame,” not offering any other words about the mystery girl.

You were confused. You had thought Ellen said the boys were friends with Sarah growing up. Why did Jack tense up when she was mentioned? Had there been some sort of falling out? Was he not excited to see her? He hadn’t mentioned anything when you brought her up earlier, causing you to assume he just didn’t know much about her, having lost contact after they both were busy and didn’t have as much time to spend at the lake anymore.

As soon as Jack had finished speaking, you heard loud laughter coming from the long deck at the end of the house’s yard, seeing three figures quickly approaching the porch you were standing on.

“See, told you I could still beat you, just like when I was a kid!” you hear an unfamiliar voice call out, footsteps coming up the wooden stairs leading to the porch.

“Not fair, you didn’t tell me it was a race until you were already at the end of the deck,” you recognize the voice this time, Luke uttering his words between fast breaths.

As you look towards the stairs, you see one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever seen in your life step onto the porch.

She had jet black hair that fell to her mid back, perfectly pin straight. She had the greenest eyes you think you’d ever seen, and her tan skin was a shade that people usually had to be photoshopped to achieve. She was wearing a sundress similar to yours, but hers was a baby blue color, complementing her skin tone and hair perfectly. It fell right at her mid-thigh, and had a floral print running across the fabric.

“Hey, everyone. Hope we didn’t miss dinner,” she said, waltzing over to the wet bar to grab a bottle of water as Luke and Quinn make their way up the stairs, coming to stand a few feet from you and Jack.

“Oh, not even close, honey. You’re just in time. Your dad and Jim were just about to put the chicken on the grill,” Deb tells her daughter, beaming at her.

She walks over to join everyone, not stopping until she’s stood right in front of Jack.

“Oh, Jacky! I’ve missed you so much! It’s been so long!” she wraps him in a hug. His arms stay pinned to his sides, his body going rigid with discomfort. You notice the looks from Quinn and Luke, confused at their wide eyes.

He coughs, causing her to detach herself from his body, but not removing her hand from his shoulders.

“Well, that hockey training sure has been good to you, hasn’t it Jacky,” she continues, squeezing his biceps with a smirk before dropping her hands, completely ignoring you.

The second her hands leave his body, Jack is stepping back over to you, placing his hand on your waist.

“Uhh, Sarah, this is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, Sarah,” Jack says, squeezing you to his side.

“Oh! You’re the new girlfriend my mom was telling me about. How sweet!” she coos, placing her hand on her chest. “Jack, she’s so pretty. But, what happened to Macey? You know, the one with the pretty blonde hair? Oh, and the absolute insane body. Seriously, I need her personal trainer’s number,” she asks, looking around at everyone.

You think about your brunette hair and know exactly what she’s trying to do.

“Not in the picture anymore. Didn’t really like the fact that she kept sticking her tongue down some Philly player’s throat when she came to visit me during an away game,” Jack spat out, grinding his teeth.

“What a shame. I liked her,” Sarah waved it off, making a small pout with her lips. “But, I’m sure you’re great too!” she added as an after thought, flashing the fakest smile you’ve ever seen.

You feel a presence step up behind you, Quinn slyly whispering “ex-girlfriend” in your ear, suddenly making Jack’s body language and her backhanded warmth towards you make sense.

“Okay, well, time to go get the food on the grill. Food will be ready in around thirty,” Jim claps his hands together, sensing the need to break up the awkward moment.

“Oh great, I’m absolutely starving,” Sarah exaggerates her last word, turning and walking towards the sliding glass door leading to the kitchen.

You stand there, not knowing how to process what just happened, Jack’s grip on you as tight as ever. You look over to Ellen, who gives you a sympathetic look.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Deb sighs and shakes her head in amusement, completely oblivious to her daughter’s fake niceness and obvious flirting with Jack. “She’s something else, isn’t she? Such a little firecracker,” she reflects, nothing but adoration in her tone and on her face.

“Yeah, one that backfires into the innocent bystanders,” Quinn mumbles under his breath, earning a snort from Luke. Ellen shoots them a glare, darting her eyes towards Deb to see if she heard, but the older woman was still staring adoringly at her daughter in the kitchen through the glass doors.

Thirty minutes later, just like Jim announced, everyone was sat at the large outdoor table, food covering the large surface.

The food was amazing, the bowl of fruit from earlier long gone as you sat down to fill your plate, wanting seconds of almost everything.

“Jack, will you hand me the potato salad, I swear, I can’t get enough of it,” you ask your boyfriend who’s sitting to your right.

He reaches over and grabs the bowl, scooping a spoonful on to your plate for you. “That good? Or you want more?”

“No, that’s good. Gotta save room for dessert,” you tell him, picking up your fork to dig in.

Jack places his hand on your thigh, smiling over at the little happy dance you do when you scoop the potato salad into your mouth.

“Oh, I’m so full,” you hear Sarah say, raising her voice to make sure the whole table hears her. “I wish I could be like you, Y/N, I’d love to have seconds, but I just cannot hold another bite, I’m already so bloated as it is,” she places her hands over her stomach to emphasize. “You’re so lucky you’ve already snagged a man and don’t have to worry about watching what you eat anymore.”

You stop mid-chew, her words sinking in.

You look around the table, everyone looking at you. Deb and Ron are smiling at you, not at all reacting to their daughter’s words, likely not even understanding the connotation of what she just said. Ellen and Jim are looking at Sarah, their eyebrows raised in shock. Quinn is glaring at her while Luke’s mouth is dropped open.

Jack’s hand is digging into your thigh, his other hand closed, clenches in a tight fist on the tablet next to his glass of water.

You finish chewing your food and swallow thickly, placing your fork down and sliding your plate away from you.

“Oh, no, don’t stop on my account. I’d kill to be able to be as comfortable as you are. Not having to worry about impressing anyone anymore, just being able to know you’re loved, no matter what you look like,” she continues, taking a sip of her water to hide her smirk.

You bow your head, your face a shade of red you can physically feel, refusing to meet anyone’s eye.

Luke coughs, a faint “bitch” heard by your ears.

“Okay, I think it’s time we clear the table for dessert, shall we,” Ellen pipes up, her own smile strained.

“Great idea, let me help you,” Deb, either still oblivious or intentionally ignoring the hurtful nature of her daughter’s words, starts to stand.

“No, I got it,” Jack surprises you by standing, taking everyone’s plates and quickly stomping off of the porch.

You could feel the anger radiating off of him when Sarah was talking, probably choosing to leave the area before he said something he would regret.

“Here, let me help, too,” Sarah stands, taking a few food dishes in her hands and stepping inside behind Jack before anyone could protest.

The table is silent after she leaves. You sit there, debating on just sliding out of your seat and under the table, wanting to hide. Luke, who was sitting next to you, brings his hand over to rest on your shoulder, trying to provide some comfort.

You look over at him to see a concerned look as he mouths a silent “You okay?”, nodding your head yes, despite the heavy feeling in your stomach.

You look up again, straight at Sarah’s parents, wondering how they can be so ignorant about their daughter’s malicious words.

You meet Ellen’s eye, seeing a sad, pleading look, begging you to forgive her with her expression. You give her a small smile, shaking your head to tell her it’s alright.

Ron is the one to finally break the silence, looking around at everyone with a genuine smile, once again proving your suspicion they’re unaware of the shift in atmosphere.

“Ellen, please tell me you made your famous cheesecake. It’s been too long since I’ve had a slice,” he speaks, unable to read the room.

Ellen partakes in empty small talk with Deb and Ron about how she makes her cheesecake when you decided you need to go check on Jack.

“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go help Jack,” you say flatly, standing from your seat and all but running inside, the urge to walk over and shake the Lawsons while shouting “your daughter’s a bitch!” in their face your cue to leave the table.

You enter the kitchen, seeing the dishes both Sarah and Jack brought in littering the counter, but neither one of them was to be found in the spacious area.

You walk through the house, calling out Jack’s name softly as you pass the stairs, making your way to the small sitting room at the front of the house.

“Jack, I don’t get it. What does she have that I don’t? What about her makes her any better than me?” you hear the sound of Sarah’s voice coming from the foyer.

“What the hell do you mean? Everything! She has everything you don’t!” you hear Jack exclaim, stopping in your tracks.

Were they talking about you?

“Jack, we were good together! We had fun. I don’t understand why you ended things between us. Hell, I took a job in New York because you said you were probably going to New Jersey to play. We could have been the new it couple of New Jersey!” it was Sarah’s turn to raise her voice.

Jack shakes his head, a dry laugh making its way out of his mouth. “What part of I didn’t want to don’t you understand?” Jack spits out. “You had fun. You chose to move to New York. You thought were good together. There was never any we in any of that.”

You can practically see the veins popping out on Jack’s forehead through his tone, even though they were out of view.

“All you ever cared about when we were together was the fact that I was about to play professional hockey. You didn’t care about me, you just cared about what I could offer you!” he shouts again. “The fact you just admitted you cared more about being the “it” couple more than you cared about wanting to be with me proves it.”

“Well, sue me for wanting to live the life of the rich and famous,” Sarah says, scoffing.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” Jack huffs out. “Y/N doesn’t care about living the life of the rich and famous. She just wants me. She wants Jack, not ‘Jack Hughes, star forward, number one overall draft pick’,” he puts on his announcer voice.

“All my life, people have only ever cared about how well I played hockey. Every coach, every teammate, every girl. They all saw me as a hockey player. They wanted me on their team, or in their bed, because they wanted what came with me: attention and popularity,” Your heart breaks at Jack’s voice, never having heard him sound so deflated before.

“Hell, you introduced me to people as a future professional hockey player before you ever introduced me to them as your boyfriend,” he continues. “With Y/N, that’s far from the most interesting thing about me. When she first introduced me to her family, she told them I was her best friend’s brother,” he refers back to the first time you took him home to meet your family, the subject of hockey not coming up until your dad asked if he liked sports, only to berate him for not being a football player. Later that night he asked him how hockey worked. Your dad has never missed a Devils game since, either in person or on tv.

“Her favorite fun fact to tell people about me isn’t a stat, or how many hat tricks I’ve scored,” he keeps going. “It’s that I love to sing Shakira when I’m in the shower. Or that I’m the only other person other than her dad that has ever made her laugh so hard water has come out of her nose,” Jack lightly laughs.

“Hey, Y/N, everything okay-“ you hear Quinn’s voice rounding the corner.

Cutting him off with a “shhh” you place your finger on your mouth to tell him, and Luke who trails behind him, to be quiet, pointing to the sitting room where Jack and Sarah are arguing.

“So, yeah, I would say I’m sorry you didn’t get what you wanted out of me, but I’m not. I’m not sorry that I broke things off with you. I’m not sorry that I found someone that actually loves me for who I am. And I’m not sorry that I brought the woman that I plan on marrying here with me, and you just so happened to be here too,” Jack tells her, his voice still holding a slight trace of anger.

“I am sorry that I never told my parents what really went down between us, telling them we just agreed it would be too hard and we needed to go back to being friends, because maybe they wouldn’t have invited you over tonight. I am sorry that I didn’t take Y/N out for dinner, trying to avoid what’s happening right now. I am sorry that you can’t begin to fathom someone can see through your forced smiles and backhanded comments, seeing how cold and rotten you really are on the inside. And I am sorry that your poor, sweet parents were given such a malicious bitch as a daughter,” He finishes.

“You know, my mom said Ellen told her you showed her a ring, but I thought it was just a gift. You’re really going to propose to her?” Sarah asks, annoyance clear in her voice, spitting out her last word with unmistakeable disgust.

“Of course it’s true. Bought the ring months ago, been carrying it around with me every since. Showed mom the night she met her, told her I was serious about her and that she’s the one. I think part of me knew that from the moment I met her,” you hear Jack say, hearing the tenderness in his voice when the subject turns to you.

Your head whips over to Luke and Quinn, your eyes wide and your mouth handing open. The panicked look on their faces is all the confirmation you need to know that you heard Jack right. He bought you a ring. He bought you a ring and showed his mom. He bought you a ring and showed his mom and was going to propose to you.

Before you know what you’re doing, your body is leading you to the entryway where your boyfriend is arguing with his ex-girlfriend.

“Y/N, no, wait,” Quinn tries to stop you, but it’s too late.

“You bought me a ring?” you ask as you enter the room, seeing Jack and Sarah standing several feet apart from each other.

“Oh, great, the woman of the hour,” Sarah rolls her eyes at you, throwing her arms up and letting them fall to her side.

You shoot her a glare, not at all concerned about her comments from earlier anymore.

You turn your head to Jack, who’s face looked as panicked at Luke and Quinn’s.

“Jack, you said you bought me a ring. Is that true?” you ask him, begging him to answer you.

Jack gulps, nodding his head yes.

“Right…” is all you can say, trying to digest what’s happening.

You look back and forth between Jack and Sarah, your gaze finally landing on the unimpressed one of Sarah.

“Listen, I don’t care what happened between you and Jack however many years ago, but I don’t appreciate you coming to his family’s house and acting like a nasty bitch to me because you got dumped and I’m the one getting the ring,” you tell her, earning a shocked scoff from her. “So, if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you took your nasty attitude and sad insecurities out of this house and elsewhere. I have something I need to discuss with the man that chose me .”

You hear the faint snorts of Quinn and Luke behind you, while Jack’s face moves from panicked to shocked as he looks between the two of you.

“God, you don’t have to ask me twice. All of this melodrama is giving me a headache. You’re not worth this. I can get any guy from the Knicks roster, I don’t need to waste my time on hockey players anymore,” Sarah says before she storms out of the room.

You watch her go, giving her a sweet smile and a wave on her way out.

“That was…the hottest thing I’ve ever seen you do,” Jack tells you, walking over to where you stood.

You roll your eyes at him, hitting him in the chest once he gets close enough to you.

“Ow! What was that for?” Jack asks you, rubbing where you thumped him

“For not telling me that Sarah was your ex-girlfriend when I was telling you how excited I was to meet her earlier” you exclaim while looking up at him, poking him in the chest with each word

“I didn’t want you to feel like you had anything to be worried about and get even more in your head about this dinner,” he tells you, grabbing your finger and pushing your hand down to your side.

“Yeah, well a lot of good that did,” you roll your eyes, bringing your hand up to softly smack his chest again.

“God, woman, stop hitting me!” Jack yelps again. “What the hell was that one for?”

“For buying me a ring only a few months into our relationship! And then for not telling me you were going to propose, you idiot!” you exclaim, throwing your arms around.

“Well, I don’t know if you know this or not, but most proposals are usually a surprise,” he tells you, grabbing your arms and holding them apart, preventing you from hitting him again.

“Still. Why would you buy it so soon into us dating, Jack? What if you ended up hating me once we hit six months, or you found out I snored and decided you didn’t want to share a bed with me for the rest of your life?” you ask him, earning a laugh from your boyfriend.

“I knew that you were it from the moment I met you. There’s absolutely no chance of me ever getting sick of you, or hating you,” Jack tells you honestly, the intensity behind his eyes causing you to believe his words. “Also, you do snore, and I think it’s cute, don’t worry.”

You try to hit his chest again, but your arms are still being held by his hands.

“So, is this a good time for me to say I never really liked Sarah,” Luke chimes in, reminding you that him and Quinn are standing in the entrance of the room.

“Luke, you’re such an idiot,” Quinn tells him, flicking him on the back of his curly head.

“What? It’s true. I liked Y/N the second I met her, but Sarah was always just a bitch,” Luke rubs the back of his head as he speaks. “Why do you think Quinn and I took one for the team and took the wicked witch out on the boat so we could keep her out of your hair for as long as possible?”

“Thanks, Luke,” you chuckle, shaking your head.

“Well, I guess it’s time to tell mom that she knows you’re proposing,” Quinn says, looking towards Jack.

“Oh, no, no one is going to know that she knows. I had this whole thing planned out, and I’m not letting Y/N ruin her own proposal,” Jack says, finally letting go of your hands.

“Do I at least get to see the ring?” you ask him, hopeful.

“Nope,” Jack shakes his head, popping the ‘p’.

You huff, crossing your arms and looking at him with a pout, until you remember his words from a few minutes before.

“Wait, you told Sarah you carry the ring with you everywhere, does that mean it’s here? In this house?” Jack’s face falls, eyes looking anywhere but your own.

“No…”

Your face lights up, looking towards the stairs before back at Jack, turning and making a run for your room.

“Oh no, you don’t!” he runs after you, catching up to you in no time.

He grabs you by your torso and swings you around, sitting you back at the bottom of the stairs as he guards them.

“Not fair, your stupid hockey speed and reflexes can shove it,” you pout again.

As you stand at the bottom of the stairs, Quinn and Luke watch the two of you, admiring how perfect the two of you are for each other.

Luke thinks back to when he decided to introduce you to his older brother, knowing he made the right decision, the two of you bringing out the best versions of the other.

And when he stands, hidden with his family as he watches his brother get down on one knee, proposing to the girl that stood at the bottom of the stairs, demanding to see her ring, he knew sneaking into Jack’s room and moving the ring to his own room was the right move, the shock on your face worth the two week long silent treatment you gave him when you found out what he had done.

[simdertalia]

🌷🌼 ACNH Flowers Set 🌼🌷

Sims 4, base game compatible. 26 items. I hope you enjoy! This set was brought to you by the lovely patron who requested it 💗

Set contains the original trios, and edited single versions of each besides the lily, since it is only one stalk. I have added some extra swatches to the mums because they are a hearty Autumn flower and should have some Autumn swatches.

The single flowers can be used in empty flower pots by raising them with the keyboard (0 and 9 on mine, but I use a non-english alphabet keyboard)

I hope you enjoy!

Set Contains: -Cosmos | 6 swatches | 672 poly -Cosmos Single | 6 swatches | 213 poly -Hyacinth | 7 swatches | 702 poly -Hyacinth Single | 7 swatches | 718 poly -Lily | 6 swatches | 2398 poly -Mum | 9 swatches | 698 poly -Mum Single | 9 swatches | 234 poly -Pansy | 6 swatches | 297 poly -Pansy Single | 6 swatches | 90 poly -Rose | 9 swatches | 2346 poly -Rose Single | 9 swatches | 826 poly -Seed Bag | 1 swatch | 166 poly -Tulip | 6 swatches | 2342 poly -Tulip Single | 6 swatches | 782 poly -Windflower | 6 swatches | 572 poly -Windflower Single | 6 swatches | 192 poly

Type “acnh flowers" into the search query in build mode to find  quickly. You can always find items like this, just begin typing  the title and it will appear.

As always, please let me know if you have any issues! Happy Simming!

Always suggested: bb.objects ON, it makes placing items much easier. For further placement tweaking, check out the TOOL mod.

📁 Download all or pick & choose (SFS, No Ads): https://simfileshare.net/folder/213108/

📁 Alt Mega Download (still no ads): https://mega.nz/folder/5hhkkAgC#IvTFhKQmL3ero87BWymcOA

📁 Download on Patreon

Will be public on March 14th, 2024 💗

Happy Simming! ✨ Some of my sets are early access. If you like my work, please consider supporting me:

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The rest of my CC

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Cooking Laios A Meal After He Comes Back From The Dungeon

Laios Touden X FemReader

Rating: T

Warnings: Suggestive themes but it's mostly fluff, reader gets a small cut

Word Count: 2.3k

(A/N:) I have just started watching Delicious in Dungeon and I really fell in love with this series. And it's funny that I got this idea while I was cooking lunch today! It wouldn't leave me alone until I got it wrote and true to fashion when I'm really inspired it turns into a monster of an imagine! So I hope my fellow fangirls can enjoy the craziness that goes on in my mind! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Word always travelled around fast whenever Laios and his party finally returned from the dungeon. You had kept close tabs on the tall blond man and how he and his brave team faired against the creatures they battled and all sorts of tasks they faced. It wasn't unheard of people perishing within the dungeon, so every time he and his group left you became overwhelmed with dread at the thought of never seeing him again. It was only until they burst through the tavern doors were you ever to fully rid yourself of the stress. Seeing him sit around, talking, and laughing with everyone made you happy. While you were only a waitress in the establishment you worked at, it was no secret around town that you knew your way around a kitchen yourself. So it didn't surprise you when strangers would come up asking about your food or pleading for you to open up your own place after trying one bite.

It was another evening and several parties were beginning to gear up to return to the dungeon as many others were about to return themselves. You were giddier than normal, cause deep in your heart you knew that one of the returning parties had to be Laios and his crew. Customers could see you practically dancing around the establishment, setting down plates and glasses with an extra flourish. It was no secret in town that you had a slight crush on the tall man. But whenever they brought it up, you'd blush bright red before denying it quickly. But deep down inside you knew that you were lying to yourself and everyone else. So when the door slammed open and Laios walked in heading straight towards you, his gait filled with purpose you swallowed noisily. Grabbing onto your hands and pulling them to his chest he leaned downward, golden eyes barreling straight into yours. You were ready to scream until a giddy little smile parted his lips.

"I want to taste your cooking," he shouted letting everyone around hear his request. "I have heard all throughout the dungeon about how tasty and wonderful your culinary creations are, that I must try them for myself."

It wasn't unknown that Laios loved to eat and had a strange pallet but this was shocking, that he was being so forward. His stomach grumbled loudly, causing the whole tavern to chuckle. He blushed deeply, quickly stepping away knowing how the position you two were in looked to everyone else.

"Umm," you were sweating nervously, "I wouldn't mind cooking for you. Though I do have twenty minutes left of my shift."

"I can wait," he announced though his stomach grumbled in protest.

You giggled, snatching a roll from a basket on the bar counter. You held it out hoping that he would take it to tide himself over until you were able to take him to your home for his requested meal. Though you didn't just take anyone back to your home, you didn't mind cooking for others and you actually found some fulfilling enjoyment when they melted at the first bite. You loved making people happy with your food. So Laios waited (though a bit impatiently) for you to finish working so he could finally have his long awaited special meal. The other waitresses giggled towards you, elbowing you in the ribs until it was finally time for you to leave. Patrons gave you a thumbs up, others wished you luck, and the other waitresses made inappropriate gestures about the size of Laios. You rolled your eyes, slamming the tavern door closed behind you. Laughter erupted from within and you drug Laios away quickly.

Your little home wasn't anything special, but it had a nice kitchen and it was a easy place to keep clean. You also didn't have to worry about your neighbors and it was a good part of town. You didn't have to worry about bandits or ne'er-do-wells. With Laios standing in the little sitting area, the reality of the situation finally hit you. You almost fainted right there, until you smacked your cheeks and took a deep breath. Laios seemed a little concerned until you gave him your most confident smiled, that honestly wavered a tad, before you lead him to your kitchen. Luckily you did have a dining set that could accommodate him well.

"It's not much," you announced while he took a seat. "But it's home."

"I like it," he replied with a gentle smile. "It's very cozy."

"Thank you. You feeling anything in particular to eat, or have any allergies I need to know about?"

"No to both questions," Laios replied. "Whatever you feel like cooking, I feel like eating."

Something told you that the tall blond man didn't discriminate when it came to food. You giggled, knowing exactly what you wanted to cook. Rummaging around for your ingredients, you looked back to see him looking around absentmindedly, taking in his surroundings.

"Feel free to get up and look around. I don't mind and have nothing to hide."

"Oh sorry," he sheepishly rubbed his neck. "I didn't mean to seem nosey."

You laughed, "You aren't. But it is a new place. I can't say that if I visited someone else's home I wouldn't want to look around."

"Thank you but I'm okay sitting her for the time being. I'd actually like to keep talking with you if that's okay."

"Absolutely!" You started patting a good portion of ground meat with a disposable napkin. Sopping all the blood you could out of the meat. Laios watched in fascination. While he knew how to cook a little, he was no chef and his creations were barely edible.

"Why are you doing that? And what is it?"

"It's something my mother always did. It takes the stink out of the meat while it cooks. And part of me thinks it takes a little impurity out of the meat. Like soaking wild game and fish in salt water after it's cleaned." You began to season the meat heavily in the bowl. "A local hunter gave it to me. It's deer from his last hunt, he's very nice to me."

Laios stiffened in the chair, a sudden twinge of jealousy running through him. While he barely knew you personally, he couldn't lie that every time he visited the tavern, you caught his eye. Though he knew you had many admirers as you were very kind to customers and handled situations with patience and grace. Though it was known that if situations got out of control or men couldn't keep their hands to themselves you were able to fend for yourself.

"I'm no professional when it comes to cooking, but I make a pretty decent home chef," you smiled portioning the meat to make patties. You patted out two bigger ones for Laios and a couple smaller ones for yourself. Next you wanted to focus on cutting up some veggies for a flavorful but simple stir-fry. You also planned to make a flavorful gravy from the drippings from the meat. Though deer meat was very lean and dry, so you would add some butter to help it along. You just wanted the flavoring from the seasonings from the meat patties to soak into the gravy. Laios could see your brain turning, so he took it as a sign that he could take a moment to go look around. He already had permission and it wasn't like he was going to through anything private. So he left you to it, though he didn't want to stay away long as he was learning a few things from you.

It didn't take long to cut up the cabbage, carrots, and squash. You left the onions for last, since they were getting old you knew they were going to be a little more stout than they were a couple weeks ago. First cut went fine until you removed the outer peeling before the stinging started. You were so used to cutting onions that normally it didn't bother you, but this particular onion was not being nice to you. Tears leaked down your cheeks, while your eyes stung and began to blur. You thought you could still see well until you missed an onion slice and found your finger instead.

"Yowch," you yelped.

Thundering footsteps from Laios sounded from the sitting room coming towards your direction, before Laios basically skidded around the corner into the kitchen and came to your side in mere seconds. As soon as he heard your yelp his heart skipped a beat.

"What?! What is it," he panted.

Tears were still streaming down your cheeks, because of the onions and you held your bleeding hand to your chest. Without another word Laios took your hand cupping it in his larger calloused hands. The long healed nicks and scars from his sword gently scraped at your softer skin. You shivered at the different texture, but you loved his gentle touch. It soothed you while blood dripped from the cut.

You gave a pained giggle, "It doesn't hurt bad. The stupid onions made me cry and I couldn't see what I was doing. I wound up cutting my finger instead of the onion. But it'll be okay." You wiped at your wet cheeks with the heel of your hand that wasn't being held tenderly by the larger man.

"We still need to clean it," Laios lead you towards the sink where he turned on the faucet and placed your cut finger in the cool water. He started looking through the pockets of his pack, searching for a healing salve and a cloth strip to bandage your finger. It didn't take him long to find some before he was back at your side. He carefully patted your finger dry before smearing some of the soothing salve down the shallow and clean cut before winding the small strip of cloth to bind everything together. You thought he was about to step away when Laios leaned down, leaving a lingering tender kiss to your newly bandaged digit. You stammered but Laios, though clearly a little embarrassed, didn't step away.

"Can I help you," he offered.

All you could do was nod in reply before he took the knife from the counter where you had laid it. Before he started cutting the rest of the onion for you, he quickly sterilized it with some water and soap. You both worked quietly, a comfortable comradery coming between you both. With two working on the food, it went by much quicker and though your finger throbbed a little from the slice and heat from the stove. Everything was set upon the table in pride and you placed your hands on your hips. Laios once again took his seat and waited for you to take yours. He watched you in confusion when you didn't immediately sit down but stepped by his side. His golden eyes watched you take a plate and set it before him. You started placing food on his plate and he started to protest, but a quick stubborn look had him quieting down immediately.

"My mother told me when I was younger that if I wanted to win the heart of my future husband, it would be through his stomach," you scooped veggies beside the meat patties, before placing the gravy over the meat. You realized that Laios was blushing deep red, it made your cheeks and ears red as well. "Silly huh?"

"Yeah....silly," he rubbed at his neck. In all honesty he didn't think it was silly, but it hurt him a little bit to think of someone else enjoying a calm and beautiful home life with you.

After you had finished serving Laios did you finally take your seat across from the table and made your own plate. He waited patiently for you to finish before tucking in, though you made it known that he didn't have to. But he wanted to, meals were enjoyed better together, though it was a little hard to wait when everything smelled so good. Finally you finished making your plate and held up a glass.

"To shared meals and the people who make them more special," you said. Laios held up his own cup and you air clinked them together. Laios scooped up a huge bite and placed it into his mouth. The flavors burst upon his tongue and it had him moaning loudly. He melted into his seat and you giggled at his reaction, though it did make you really happy.

"Marry me," he blurted and you dropped your fork.

"What," you chuckled nervously picking your utensil back up.

He shoveled in more food, scarfing it down quickly to keep himself from saying something else stupid. You couldn't help yourself at his ridiculousness. You began to laugh uncontrollably. Laios could only watch speechless before he too joined in. You both laughing heartily over the meal before you were finally able to control yourself. Your sides aching and chest heaving. Finishing off the last bite you picked up your plate and swooped in to give Laios a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you for the compliment," you whispered in his ear. This time causing him to shiver. He could only sit there in shock while you cleared the table, before setting a piece of fruit tart before him.

"I hope you'll come over more for dinner," you said suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

Laios quickly returned a kiss to your cheek before he cut a big piece of tart ,"Nothing would make me happier."

That's how you found yourself cooking many more meals for the golden haired man that had quickly stolen your heart and you hoped that one day that maybe a real marriage proposal would come from Laios lips one day. But tonight he made you the happiest girl in all the town and you hoped to enjoy many more meals with him no matter what came in the future.

[indulgentdaydream]

Hello luv, first of all... I LOVE NURSE!READER!!! OH god the last lines were soooooo heartwarming for my social worker heart!! LOVE LOVE IT 🩷🩷

So, may I request a Jason x reader again but with a little something... Jealous Jason because reader and Roy know each other longer than Jay and reader and then he gets all jelly and and—! Oh god I love a jealous petty man.

Missy when she fucks up the queue and queues this post for NEXT YEAR by accident 🫣🙃 NEXT YEAR?? LIKE THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE POSTED LAST FRIDAY AND I DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE THAT IT DIDN'T GO UP

anyways AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH your words are already heartwarming ♥️

I loveeee jealous jason imma cook this up so quick just you wait and see (i wrote this when i first made the draft and i found it funny to leave it. It’s literally been a month I’m so sorry)

I also made this into headcanons because I had a VISION and did not think to give it any justice. (koi youre seriously my number 1 supporter i hope you enjoy this garbage I just threw up, really)

Pining!Jealous!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: slight jealousy (not too overly consuming), alcohol consumption

Roy had invited Jason to hang out at the bar

Bros being bros

except...

Roy brought you along (because he KNOWS Jason has got a fat crush on you whether or not he’s told him)

(He tried to convince roy it’s not a crush, but always fails because his whole demeanour changes when you walk in the room)

examples:

he's always going to be standing beside you, consciously or not

jason isn't always a tense guy. But he for sure isn't as long as you're talking to him/looking at him/etc. (but if you put your hand on his arm/touch him in any way, it's game over)

your name is brought up, he's listening SO INTENTLY

like a dog when it hears its favourite word

Anyways

The three of you are sitting in a booth

It was originally you and roy before jason showed up, the two of you on either side

Jason shows up and just sits right next to you. No hesitation.

You and roy are laughing away, recounting stories and telling jokes.

Jason is just... really quiet

unusually quiet

He doesn’t look at you guys, rather looking out across the bar, trying to hide the fact he’s feeling this way

That he's feeling unreasonably jealous of his best friend

who literally brought you FOR JASON

He knows it’s stupid. He trusts both of you. You two are the two people he trusts the MOST

He hates that he’s like this, but he can't help it

Roy's better than him. You've known him for longer. He's making you laugh harder than Jason ever has. He's better looking, too. Older. More experienced.

His thoughts are clogging up his head. He's really not listening anymore, just holding his beer, eyes scanning the bar floor, watching the other patrons.

Then Roy is standing in front of him, saying something about using the bathroom.

He is giving a VERY pointed look at Jason.

a "make conversation with your crush or I'm shoving an arrow down your throat" kind of look

Jason felt a little stab of genuine anxiety shoot through him.

He's talked to you alone before. Many times. You two were friends, of course. He doesn't know why this is how he's feeling right now.

Then your hand is resting on his forearm.

Poor boy is still so caught up in his head he just looks down at your hand for definitely a second too long before finally meeting your gaze

Your gaze with those stupidly pretty eyes.

Then comes that horrendously pretty voice, "You alright?"

He nods. Shrugs. Like a stupid teenager who doesn't know how to handle his emotions.

He has to admit he's still a little tense about your attention being focused more on Roy. But not to you. He'd never admit it to you. You'd probably find it unattractive and then he'd really never have a chance.

“Yeah, no, im enjoying the talking. Always forget how well you and roy know each other”

“Oh yeah he just knows how to get me going. You know how he is”

Jason doesn’t know how he does it.

Like some leap of faith.

Some, jealousy super-powered leap.

He tries to be non-chalant about it.

“It’d be nice to do this again sometime. Maybe without Roy around.”

BOY'S HEART IS POUNDING

Sipping on his beer, looking down at it instead to avoid eye contact with you so he doesn't lose his cool.

Or someone show on his face that he is actually shitting bricks

You don't respond for a second and the alarm bells start going off in his head

WHY DID I SAY THAT WHY DID I SAY THAT WHY DID I SAY-

"It would be nice," you say, "Could we make it a date instead?"

He's smiling, turning to nod at you, "Course we can."

But his internal dialogue is just straight screaming at himself

"IDIOT YOU SHOULD'VE MADE IT OBVIOUS YOU WANTED IT TO BE A DATE IN THE FIRST PLACE"

The things jealousy will make you do

Roy comes back and sits down

Jason's into the conversation now

It doesn't really matter that Roy is still making you laugh

because he's not the one holding your hand under the table

AH I HOPE YOU LIKE -missy

I also love a jealous petty man (as long as it doesn't become toxic and he doesn't use it as an excuse to be an asshole)

[dee-writes-anime]

So I saw that your requests are open and that you do JJK and I was wondering if you’d be interested in the idea buzzing in my brain for the past week. Nanami is a total jazz lover in my mind and there’s a jazz club in town and the reader is a jazz singer full of passion. I’m thinking Nanami falls head over heels for reader especially with her voice as she sings love songs. Also I love your work it’s fantastic and always a joy to read.

The Echoing, All-Encompassing Sound of Love

FEATURING Kento Nanami x Female Reader

SUMMARY The Blue Note was a place Nanami went to unwind after hard, long days of endless, meaningless work. It was a place for him to fall into the shadows and familiarity of the deep blues and jazz, it was a comfort, but nothing had ever touched him, enraptured him like you had when you stepped on that stage.

CONTENT WARNINGS fluff, cuteness, introspective??, Kento gushing over his WOMAN (bark bark bark), obsessed man, this is some deep, soulful shit yall, only edited ever so slightly T-T

AUTHORS NOTE I have no idea where I went with this or how it got to this point, but I really hope I brought your vision to life darling anon. <3

The jazz club, nestled in the heart of the city, is alive with an intimate, cozy energy. The space is dimly lit, with soft, warm lighting casting long shadows across the room. A thin haze of smoke lingers in the air, adding to the club's mystique. The gentle hum of quiet conversations mixes with the soft clinking of glasses and the occasional low laugh, creating a comforting backdrop for the evening.

At a small, round table near the stage, Kento Nanami sits, his posture relaxed yet composed. His impeccably tailored suit fits him perfectly, as always. He swirls a glass of whiskey in his hand, the amber liquid catching the faint light. His sharp gaze is focused on the stage, where musicians are setting up their instruments, tuning and adjusting, preparing for the night’s performance. The familiar ritual of the pre-show calm settles over him, a welcome escape from the chaos of his usual day-to-day life.

Nanami takes a sip of his drink, savoring the smooth burn as it slides down his throat, and leans back slightly in his chair. His eyes flicker around the room, taking in the scattered patrons, each one lost in their own world of jazz and ambiance. He’s been coming to this club for a few weeks now, drawn by the soothing allure of the music and the promise of an evening where the only battles to be fought are between trumpet solos and sultry saxophone notes.

He doesn’t know it yet, but tonight will be different. Tonight, a new performer is set to take the stage, and with her first note, Nanami’s world will begin to shift in ways he never expected.

Nanami wasn’t the type to indulge in luxuries. He preferred the quiet satisfaction of a well-brewed cup of coffee, the crisp pages of a book, the efficiency of a perfectly executed plan. But there was something about this jazz club that drew him in like a moth to a flame. The dim lighting, the haze of smoke, the low hum of the bass—these were not things he typically sought out, but here, in this place, they provided a strange sense of comfort.

Tonight, the club is alive with its usual hum of activity. Patrons sit scattered around small tables, their faces barely visible in the shadows, illuminated only by the soft glow of flickering candles. The scent of whiskey and old leather mingles with the faint traces of smoke, creating an atmosphere that is both timeless and ephemeral. The band on stage plays a slow, steady rhythm, a saxophone gently crying out a mournful tune that fills the room with a bittersweet nostalgia.

Nanami sits at his usual table, close enough to the stage to see every detail, yet far enough to remain unnoticed by most. He’s dressed impeccably, as always, his suit crisp and neat despite the casual setting. He swirls his glass of whiskey, watching the ice cubes clink softly against the sides, his gaze occasionally drifting to the stage. His mind is calm, his thoughts quieted by the gentle rhythm of the music. He’s been coming here for weeks now, finding solace in the music, in the anonymity of the darkened room.

But tonight is different.

The moment you step on stage, something shifts in the air. It’s as if the very essence of the club changes, the room becoming quieter, the audience collectively holding its breath in anticipation. Nanami feels it too—a subtle tightening in his chest, a flutter he can’t quite name. He watches as you move into the spotlight, the soft, golden light catching on the sequins of your dress, making you shimmer like a dream. Your eyes are closed, your posture relaxed yet poised, as if you’re in a world all your own.

And then you start to sing.

The first note is like a whisper, gentle and soft, yet it carries through the room with a clarity that demands attention. Your voice is unlike anything Nanami has ever heard—smooth as honey, rich as velvet, with a depth that speaks of experiences and emotions he can only begin to imagine. Each note is carefully controlled, each word filled with emotion, and he finds himself leaning forward slightly, his focus entirely on you.

As you continue, your voice grows stronger, more confident, filling the room with a warmth that wraps around everyone like a comforting embrace. The lyrics are a love song, simple yet profound, speaking of longing and hope, of heartache and desire. Nanami feels each word as if it’s directed at him, as if you’re singing just for him, your gaze occasionally sweeping across the audience, and he can’t help but wonder if you see him.

The way you move on stage is mesmerizing. You sway gently to the rhythm, your hands occasionally rising to emphasize a particularly powerful line. There’s a passion in your performance, a raw emotion that spills out with every note, making it impossible to look away. Nanami’s heart races, a strange sensation for someone usually so composed. He doesn’t know why, but something about you, about this moment, feels significant—like a turning point he didn’t see coming.

He takes a slow sip of his whiskey, the liquid warming him from the inside out, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth your voice brings. As you hit a high note, the room seems to hold its breath, and Nanami feels a shiver run down his spine. He’s never felt so captivated, so drawn to someone. It’s as if your voice is a thread, pulling him closer, wrapping around his heart and refusing to let go.

For the first time in a long while, Nanami feels something beyond the constant grind of his duties. He feels alive, his senses heightened by the music, by your presence. He doesn’t know who you are, doesn’t know your story, but in this moment, none of that matters. All that matters is the music, the way your voice makes him feel, and the strange, undeniable pull he feels toward you.

He tries to stay for the rest of the night, anticipating the moment he can go up and introduce himself when all the performers do crowd work. However, it seems his phone has different plans as it buzzes insistently in the back pocket of his slacks, calling him cruelly away from the opportunity to catch your name, to hear your voice once more. Kento Nanami doesn't consider a man who's easy to anger, but that night, having lost the opportunity to know you, to catch just a single glimpse at your soul again, he can't help but feel his blood boil under his skin.

As he leaves the club, he convinces himself that he will see you again, that he will take the next opportunity as it comes and talk to you.

And that is how Kento Nanami quickly becomes a fixture at The Blue Note, his visits growing more frequent, timed perfectly to coincide with your performances.

He never deviates from his routine: arriving a few minutes before your set, he always sits at the same small table near the stage, his broad shoulders relaxed yet somehow still commanding in his perfectly tailored suit. He orders a single glass of whiskey, savoring it slowly throughout the evening.

His presence is quiet but unyielding, like a shadow that’s always there, watching, observing. Every time you step on stage, his gaze is already on you, unwavering, a steady anchor amidst the flickering candlelight and swirling smoke. It’s a look that’s intense, focused, as if he’s trying to unravel the secrets hidden within each note you sing.

You’ve noticed him, of course—how could you not? At first, he was just another face in the crowd, another patron drawn to the allure of jazz and dim lighting. But as the weeks passed, you found your eyes lingering on him more and more, intrigued by his quiet demeanor, the way he seemed to hang on to every word you sang. There was a mystery about him, a sense of restraint that made you wonder what thoughts lay hidden behind those piercing eyes.

As the days turn into weeks, his presence becomes a comfort, a constant in the ever-changing tide of the club’s clientele. You start to look for him as you step on stage, your gaze naturally drifting to his usual spot. The way he watches you feels different from the others—more profound, more attentive, as if he’s listening not just with his ears, but with his entire being.

And each time you sing, you can’t help but feel a strange connection to him, a silent understanding that grows stronger with every performance. His steady gaze becomes a source of inspiration, a quiet encouragement that pushes you to pour even more of yourself into each song. It’s almost as if you’re singing just for him, even though you’ve never exchanged a single word.

One evening, after a particularly soulful rendition of an old jazz standard, you notice him again. He’s there, as always, sitting at his usual table, his eyes following you with that same intense focus. But tonight feels different. There’s something in his gaze that you can’t quite place—an emotion that lingers in the air like the final note of a song.

The club is quieter than usual tonight, the dim lights casting long shadows across the room. As you step off the stage, your heart still pounding from the performance, you find yourself drawn to him, almost against your will. You’re not sure what compels you—perhaps it’s the curiosity that’s been building inside you for weeks, or maybe it’s the intensity of his focus, the way he seems to see right through you, as if he knows every emotion behind your songs.

You make your way through the tables, your steps slow and deliberate, your heart beating a little faster with each one. As you approach, you notice the subtle shift in his expression—his eyes widening slightly, a flicker of surprise passing across his otherwise stoic face. He sets his glass down carefully, his movements calm and measured, but you can see the tension in the way he sits up straighter, his gaze never leaving yours.

“Hi,” you say softly, your voice carrying just above the soft hum of the club. Up close, you notice the sharp angles of his face, the way his hair falls neatly over his forehead, and the intensity of his eyes—eyes that are watching you with a mixture of curiosity and something else, something deeper.

He nods slightly, his lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile. “Hello,” he replies, his voice low and smooth, matching the ambiance of the club perfectly. There’s a moment of silence, the kind that hangs heavy with unspoken questions and unsaid words.

You take a breath, steadying yourself. “I’ve noticed you here before,” you say, trying to sound casual, though your heart is racing. “You come to listen a lot.”

Nanami’s eyes soften, and he nods again. “I do,” he admits, his gaze steady and sincere. “You have a… remarkable voice. It’s not something one can easily forget.”

His words catch you off guard, the sincerity in them striking a chord deep within you. You smile, a genuine, warm smile that reaches your eyes. “Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you.”

He tilts his head slightly, a subtle curiosity playing across his features. “From me?”

You nod, feeling a strange sense of comfort in his presence. “Yes. You always seem so… focused. It’s hard not to wonder what you’re thinking.”

Nanami chuckles softly, a rare sound that seems to surprise even him. “I suppose I’m just… listening,” he says, his voice thoughtful. “Trying to understand the emotion behind each song. You sing with such passion; it’s hard not to be drawn in.”

Your heart flutters at his words, at the honesty in them. For a moment, the world outside fades away, and it’s just the two of you in this small, smoky club, sharing a connection that feels almost tangible.

As the evening goes on, the conversation flows naturally, each word revealing a little more about the enigmatic man who has been such a mystery to you. And as you talk, you find yourself wanting to know more, to understand the quiet strength behind his stoic exterior, and to uncover the emotions that lie beneath his calm façade.

Tonight, you’ve taken the first step into a new rhythm, one that neither of you could have anticipated.

But your exploration ends there-- at least, for the time being as Nanami finds himself pulled back into the Jujutsu world, all his extra time lost to consistent missions and training as a grade-one sorcerer.

It's only about a month later that he is finally able to force just enough time into his exhausting schedule to come see you again, the dim glow of the jazz club's lights dances across the walls, and the familiar hum of chatter fills the room as patrons settle in for another night of music.

Nanami sits at his usual table, but tonight feels different. His normally calm and composed demeanor is slightly frayed at the edges. His fingers tap nervously against the rim of his glass, and he takes a slow, deep breath. He’s been thinking about this moment for weeks, rehearsing his words, imagining every possible outcome.

He can no longer ignore the pull he feels toward you—the singer who has become more than just a beautiful voice on stage. Every performance has drawn him deeper into your world, and he finds himself wanting more. He wants to know you, to understand the person behind the melodies that have captivated him so completely.

As the final notes of your current song fade, you take a small bow, the audience’s applause a warm, familiar comfort. When you lift your gaze, your eyes naturally drift to his spot, widening ever so slightly when you see him watching you with that same intense focus. There’s something different in his expression tonight, a hint of determination that makes your heart skip a beat.

When the set ends, you make your way offstage, your steps lighter than usual. As you head toward the bar for a drink, you see him rise from his table, his tall figure cutting through the smoky haze of the club. He’s coming toward you, his movements purposeful but not rushed. There’s a resolve in his stride, a quiet confidence that makes your pulse quicken with anticipation.

“Hi again,” you greet him with a smile as he approaches, leaning casually against the bar. Up close, he’s as striking as ever, his presence commanding but not overpowering. There’s a softness to his eyes tonight, a warmth that wasn’t there before. "Long time no see."

“Hello,” he responds, his voice a touch lower than usual, an embarrassed blush lightly dusting his sharp cheekbones. He pauses for a moment, searching for the right words. You can see the faintest hint of nervousness in the way he briefly glances away before meeting your gaze again. “I wanted to… say something.” He hesitates, then continues, “First, I wanted to apologize for my absence after our conversation. I see how it might seem that my lack of attendance is directly related, and I want to make it clear that it wasn't."

"That's alright," you say so sweetly, your voice dripping with a honey that doesn't reach the stage. It makes him pause, that soulful tone that you sing with is so at odds with your personality it almost makes him want to enquire whether or not you are the same woman.

But he has more important things to do, like reveal his truth. "A-and also.. your voice… it moves me in ways I can’t quite explain. It’s like every note, every word carries a piece of you, and… it reaches me.”

His confession is quiet, almost lost in the low murmur of the club, but the sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes now, a rare glimpse of the man beneath the composed exterior.

A smile tugs at your lips, and you feel a playful urge to lighten the moment. “So, does that make you my most dedicated fan?” you tease gently, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

Nanami chuckles softly, a hint of color rising in his cheeks. “I suppose it does,” he admits, a small, genuine smile breaking through his usual stoicism. “I can’t seem to stay away.”

There’s a moment of shared laughter, and in that instant, the tension between you softens, replaced by a warm, unspoken connection. It’s a feeling that’s been building for weeks, and now, standing here with him, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

“Do you have a favorite song from my set?” you ask, curious to know more about the quiet man who seems to hang on your every word.

Without a second’s hesitation, he answers, “The ballad you sing—the one about longing and quiet devotion. It… resonates with me.”

You nod, recognizing the song he’s referring to. It’s one of your favorites too, a song filled with deep emotions, a story of unspoken love and silent yearning. His choice surprises you, but it also makes your heart flutter. There’s something incredibly personal about his answer, something that touches a place deep within you.

As the evening progresses, you prepare for the next set. Nanami returns to his table, but there’s a newfound lightness in his demeanor, a subtle shift in his posture. You take the stage again, the band picking up the soft, familiar notes of the ballad he mentioned. The room falls silent as you begin to sing.

Your voice carries through the club, each note delicate and filled with emotion. As you sing, your eyes search the crowd, drawn inevitably to him. When your gaze finally meets his, it feels like the air is charged with electricity. His eyes are locked on yours, and suddenly, the song takes on a whole new meaning. It’s no longer just a performance; it’s a conversation, a silent exchange of feelings that neither of you has dared to voice until now.

The words spill from your lips with a newfound intensity, each lyric filled with the raw emotion that’s been building inside you since the moment you first saw him. The love song, once a simple ballad, now feels like a confession, a declaration wrapped in melody. You can see it in his eyes too—a depth of feeling that mirrors your own, a quiet devotion that makes your heart race.

As the final note fades into the silence, you realize that the room has disappeared, leaving just the two of you connected by the invisible thread of the music. The applause is distant, a faint echo of reality, but all you can focus on is the way he’s looking at you—as if you are the only person in the world.

In that moment, under the soft glow of the club’s lights, something shifts between you. It’s a beginning, a step into uncharted territory, but it feels right. And as you both stand there, wrapped in the warmth of the song and the quiet understanding between you, you know that whatever comes next, it’s a melody you’re both eager to explore.

It's not long before the nights at The Blue Note become something more than just performances and applause. After the crowd disperses and the lights dim, the club transforms into a sanctuary of quiet conversations and shared silences. Nanami stays longer now, his reserved demeanor softening with each passing evening. You sit together at the bar or at his usual table near the stage, sometimes talking late into the night, sometimes just sitting in a comfortable silence that says more than words ever could.

You’ve come to look forward to these moments—the way Nanami listens so intently when you speak, as if every word matters, the way his eyes soften when he catches you smiling. There’s a calm about him, a quiet strength that you find yourself drawn to more and more. He never pushes, never asks for more than you’re willing to give. Instead, he’s just… there. A steady presence that has quickly become a constant in your life.

You learn things about him in these quiet hours. He speaks of his work in vague terms, his shoulders tensing slightly whenever the topic drifts too close. But he’s open about his love for jazz, about how he finds solace in the melodies and rhythms. He tells you about the first time he heard you sing, how something inside him shifted, how he knew he would return again and again.

In return, you share pieces of yourself with him—stories of your childhood, your love for music, and how it’s the one thing that has always made you feel truly alive. You tell him about the first time you sang on a stage, how nervous you were, and how that fear melted away the moment you began to sing. He listens with an intensity that makes you feel seen, truly seen, in a way you haven’t felt in a long time.

As the days turn into weeks, an unspoken bond forms between you. It’s there in the way Nanami orders your favorite drink without you asking, in the way he waits for you to finish after every performance, ready with a quiet smile and a listening ear. It’s in the way you look for him in the crowd, your heart lifting just a little each time you find him sitting at his usual spot, watching you with that steady, unyielding gaze.

You begin to see the depth of Nanami in the little things—the way he’s always mindful of your space, the way he listens more than he speaks, and how his rare, gentle smiles are more precious than any grand gesture. He shows his affection in thoughtful ways—a book he thought you might like, a warm cup of tea on a rainy night, a steady hand at your back when you’re feeling overwhelmed.

It’s these moments, small but meaningful, that make you realize just how much he’s come to mean to you. He’s become more than just a regular at the club, more than just a face in the crowd. He’s someone you’ve come to rely on, someone whose presence brings a sense of calm and comfort that you hadn’t realized you were missing.

Tonight, the club is busier than usual, the crowd buzzing with energy. You’re back on stage, the warm glow of the spotlight casting a soft halo around you. The band starts to play the familiar opening notes of a love song, the same ballad Nanami had mentioned that night—the one filled with longing and quiet devotion. Your heart flutters with a mix of nerves and excitement. Tonight feels different, charged with a new kind of energy.

As you begin to sing, your eyes naturally seek him out. Nanami is there, as always, sitting at his usual table. But tonight, there’s no distance between you. He’s no longer just a quiet admirer in the shadows; he’s someone who knows your stories, someone who’s seen you in your most vulnerable moments. And when your gaze meets his, it’s like the whole room falls away, leaving just the two of you connected by the music.

Your voice carries through the club, each note filled with a tenderness that wasn’t there before. You sing for him now, every word an unspoken confession, every melody a shared memory. The song is more than just a performance; it’s a dialogue, a way to say all the things you haven’t yet put into words.

Nanami watches you with a quiet intensity, his eyes soft and warm. You can see the emotion there, the depth of feeling that he so rarely shows. And as you sing, you can feel it too—a warmth spreading through your chest, a sense of belonging that makes you feel more alive than ever.

The final notes of the song hang in the air, a delicate echo that slowly fades into the silence. The crowd erupts in applause, but all you hear is the quiet, steady beat of your heart, all you see is the way Nanami’s lips curve into a gentle, knowing smile.

You take a small bow, but your eyes never leave his. There’s a shared understanding between you, a silent promise that whatever comes next, you’ll face it together. And in that moment, under the soft lights of the club, with the music still lingering in the air, you know that you’ve found something special—something worth holding onto.

As the night draws to a close and the crowd begins to thin, you make your way off the stage, your steps light and purposeful. Nanami is waiting for you, his figure a steady presence amidst the shifting shadows. He doesn’t say anything as you approach, but his eyes speak volumes—filled with a quiet devotion that makes your heart swell.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs softly, his voice carrying just above the soft hum of the remaining patrons.

“Thank you,” you reply, a smile tugging at your lips. “For everything.”

Nanami nods, his expression gentle, and without another word, he offers you his hand. You take it, feeling the warmth of his touch, the strength of his grip—a silent promise that whatever comes next, you won’t have to face it alone.

And as you stand there, hand in hand, with the music still echoing softly around you, you can’t help but feel like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

[leaentries]

Red | jack hughes

backstory - next

summary: when jack meets a bombshell of a girl, his life is bound to change.

warnings: swearing, lil bit of arrogant jack

wc: 2k+

a/n: welcome to my new series! this will follow jack and red as they navigate through the ins and outs of new love. if you have any requests or thoughts regarding jack and red, please send them in!

His world was flipped the second he met her. His Red.

Live chattering filled the dimly lit bar, as a certain chill settled in the cracks of the wooden walls. Winter did not come to play this time of year. The howling wind could still be heard over the loud voices in the room. With every creak of the front door, more frigid air rushed in, gripping whoever was near. 

Bright noses and ears scattered about the patrons, who eagerly down their alcohol in an attempt to warm up the frosted bones beneath. The old dinky clock on the back wall lamely rang as the time hit the hour. It was officially the next day, yet Jack and his team still swarmed the back left corner of the room. 

Joy was very evident to whoever gazed upon the mass of hockey players, or anyone who paid any attention to the TVs in the room. The New Jersey Devils had just won their best game thus far, winning by a complete shutout against their rivals. To say they were pumped would be an understatement. 

Strong bodies and their accompanied ladies made their way to the dance floor, leaving behind the select bachelors of the bunch. Although adrenaline still coursed through his veins and he was still riding the high of winning, Jack couldn’t help but watch as his teammates celebrated with their partners. 

The lowly sound of Nico and Dawson’s conversation echoed in and out of Jack’s ears. Now, Jack knew, regardless of how shallow it seemed, that he could easily have his choice of bunny to dance with. Truth be told, he had begun to grow tired of hooking up with random girls every weekend. 

Jack craved something deeper. He craved something real. So, there he sat, in the back booth with a beer in his hand, secretly wishing he had his own girl by his side. 

❥.

Another hour or so had passed, the clock now reading 1:15 a.m., yet the team seemed to have every intention of shutting the place down. Another round of shots was brought to the table, courtesy of Erik, causing a new rise of cheers to be heard. Jack jumped slightly, as Dawson shoved a small glass of brown liquid into his hand. 

“C’mon, man! What’s up with you?” Dawson questioned as he noticed Jack staring into the glass. Jack was quick to plaster a small, but convincing smile on his face. 

“Nothing. I’m all good, just a bit tired after the game, that’s all.” Dawson looked skeptical and opened his mouth to say something, but was quickly cut off as Jack swiftly drank the potent liquid. 

“Atta boy, JackJack!” Dawson’s attention moved away from Jack as Luke showed him something on his phone. 

A deep sigh left Jack’s throat, easing the burning sensation. His eyes traveled around the bar, this time noting that they seemed to be the last ones left. He wanted to go home, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave as he saw how happy his team looked. 

Jack excused himself from the table, opting to go recoup in the bathroom for a few peaceful moments. Making his way towards the other side of the bar proved to be more difficult when he had drunk hockey players flinging themselves as he passed. Jack continued his way through, ignoring all of the concerned looks he got as he pushed his friends off.

He picked up his pace, practically slamming the bathroom door closed once he was inside. He let his hands rest on the sink as he attempted to even out his breathing. Jack wasn’t even completely sure why he was freaking out in the first place. It’s not like he has to be single, he has lines of women at his beck and call. 

But, there is something different about the emptiness in his chest that he just can’t seem to shake tonight. Jack turned on the faucet, gently patting his face with some cool water to help dissipate the redness covering his cheeks and neck. 

He reached over to grab a paper towel when the door slammed open. Jack turned around abruptly, clearly startled by the sudden intrusion. But what caught him off guard the most was, not the interruption, but the fact that it was a girl. In the men's bathroom. 

“Excuse me?” Jack exclaimed, visibly irritated by the girl. The girl's eyes widened, before stepping back to look at the sign on the door.

“Oh shit!” She met Jack’s eyes with an awkward laugh, “Apparently this isn’t the women's bathroom.” 

Jack rolled his eyes, “Great observation there, genius.” 

The girl raised her eyebrows in surprise at his snappy tone. She understood her mistake, but that did not give him a reason to be rude. Before saying anything, she took into account who he was. Not that it mattered, but she did not want to start beef with Jack Hughes. 

She remained silent, her lack of response egging Jack on. 

“Look, I get it. You’re a fan, but I’m trying to have some privacy. The least you could do is respect that. You didn’t have to barge into the bathroom just to see me.” 

Oh hell no. 

It occurred in that moment, that she no longer cared who he was. The arrogance melted in waves off of him and she needed to snuff that out real fast.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you’re talking to, but it sure ain’t me.”

Jack was taken aback by her rebuttal, not failing to note the southern twang in her voice. He then realized how insanely attractive the fuming girl was. Her flaming ginger hair fell in waves down her back, which provided a stark contrast to her bright green eyes. They were big and round, yet held so much fire. Her nose was small, yet curved up slightly, creating a slope. Jack found himself wanting to trace his fingers down it. 

He was snapped back into reality as her vibrant red lips opened once more. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I know who you are, Jack Hughes,” She mimicked, “But If I wanted to see your dick that bad, I’d have no problem getting you in my bed.” 

Jack scoffed, “Oh is that so?”

She took a few steps forward.

“It’s no secret you get around Jack,” She brought her hands around his shoulders, “Your dick is more famous than you at this point.” 

Jack would be lying if he denied the jolt that his cock made at her comment.

“You know, Red, you shouldn’t talk about my dick if you don’t plan on giving it attention.” Jack wasn’t sure what changed his mood, possibly the most sexy woman he had ever seen talking about his cock. Maybe a hookup wouldn’t be the worst thing to come of the night.

A wicked grin found its way to her full lips as she brought them to his right ear. Her body pressed against his deliciously. With a low whisper, she replied, “Like hell.” 

She pulled away quickly stepping back. Jack frowned at the loss of her warm body. His eyes gleamed longingly at the door as she made her way out without a second glance at him. 

Jack was left by himself once more, this time with a painful hard-on and thoughts of his mystery girl. 

❥.

Once he calmed himself down, Jack left the bathroom and began to make his way back to his team. He was about halfway through the building when a streak of red hair caught the corner of his eye. He turned to see her sitting at a bartop, engrossed in her laptop that sat in front of her. 

Jack acted on a whim and decided he wanted, no needed, to figure this girl out. He walked up to the bartop, sliding into the seat beside her. 

She didn’t even bother to look up, “Look Bubba, go find somewhere else to sit. I am very clearly busy.” She barked. Jack chuckled at her response. 

“Wow, Red, you’re very feisty this evening.” The girl snapped her head up, meeting Jack’s icy blue ones. She let out a huff, shaking her head slightly. 

“What? You decided to grace the common folk with your godly presence, Jacky?” She gave him a pointed look before continuing, “Also, don’t call me Red. I have a name, you know.”

“You haven’t given it.”

“You haven’t asked.”

Jack smiled. The way she manages to challenge everything he says is addicting and he wants more.

“Alright then, what’s your name?” Jack questioned, quirking his head to the side. Boy, was he more than happy to play her game. 

“Y/n.” 

“Nah, I still prefer Red.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes, opting to turn her focus back to her computer. Jack’s eyebrows furrowed at the lack of attention she gave. 

“Am I not entertaining enough for you, Red?” 

She looked back up from her project, turning to him. “Look, Jacky, I already told you in the bathroom, I’m not looking to hook up with you. Nor do I want to,” She sucked in a breath, “Now if you don’t mind, I’m trying to focus on my article.”

Jack did not like the idea of giving up, so he let his curiosity get the better of him. He turned her laptop towards him, provoking protest from the red-haired girl. He was taken by surprise at the title:

A backtrack on the Devil's season: Did Jack Hughes save the team?

Jack couldn’t help but smirk, his ego rising a few notches. 

“Writing articles about me, huh? I gotta be honest with ya, Red. With the way you’ve been arguing all night, I never would have guessed you were my biggest fan.”

Y/n scoffed, a bewildered look on her face. “Ha! That’s rich.” She tugged her laptop back, “I was given this assignment, I would never write about you willingly. You’re a good player Jacky, but some of your other teammates deserve the hype too. All the major networks are too busy fawning over you, that they miss what contributions are being made by the other players. Last time I checked, it’s not just Jack Hughes on the ice.” 

Even though she was complaining about him, he couldn’t help but cling to her every word. It was captivating, how passionate she got. Especially over something that Jack’s life revolved around. 

She continued, but was cut off by Jack, “I agree with you.” 

Y/n cocked her head, “You…agree with me?” Baffled would be an understatement. She assumed Jack would be flying, boasting about being the number one topic in the NHL right now. 

“Yes, I agree. My team is just as important, we wouldn’t be winning with just me. It’s a team effort and I think more people should be writing about that. Everyone on that ice is crucial to the game, so I appreciate you seeing that.”

Everything he said was true. He truly did believe that he would be nowhere without his team, they were his family. Y/n could see the tenderness in his eyes. Against her better wishes, she found it attractive how he cared for his team.

She shook away those thoughts, “Anyways, Jacky, I am super busy finishing this article, so…” She trailed off, hoping he would get the subtle hint. She would never let on that she was enjoying their conversation. 

Jack wasn’t blind to her attempts to get him to leave but refused to go without assuring him he’d see her again. 

“I could help you,” He offered. She gave him a questioning look.

“I mean, you seem to be struggling to come up with what to write about me. So, I can help you. You can ask me any questions you want…” 

She raised an eyebrow, sensing his wanting tone, “What’s the catch?” 

“Go on a date with me.” 

She almost immediately said no, but considered what this article could do for her career. Everyone in her network wanted to write about Jack Hughes, yet somehow she was the one who managed to get stuck with the assignment. Was she willing to put up with an entire date just for the chance to get new intel no one else had? 

Y/n had hoped not, but alas, she knew what she needed to do. 

“Fine,” Jack’s eyes lit up at her compliance, “Only one date, after that we split and never talk again.”

“You got it, Red.”

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Hello! How was your day? I hope it's been good.

Could I request Zhongli, Neuvillette, and Wriothesley finding out their lover had been gushing over them to random people?

Zhongli, Neuvillette, and Wriothesley x gushing!reader

Zhongli

The ex-archon as usual goes for his daily work break for lunch and tea where Iron Tongue Tian told stories, sitting down and looking around to see one of the staff talking excitedly with another couple of patrons before seeing him. They seemed to light up upon seeing him and bid goodbye to the others, coming over to him and clapping their hands together. “So you’re the handsome man that Name’s been gushing about. Zhongli isn’t it? I’ve seen you around here often.” they said with a smile and noted down his order, waving their hands and assuring him they knew it was usual.

This was news to him. He hadn’t suspected that there’d be any reason for them to gush about him since to him it seemed it should be the opposite. “Hm, I have to say this is the first time I have heard this. “ he said and thoughtfully hummed. Color him intrigued. “Why don’t you sit here with me and have some tea as well? I would very much like to discuss more about what Name says about me,” he said with a smile and if someone looked close enough they could see the slyness behind it.

The worker immediately smiled and nodded, rushing off to get his tea and what he assumed was theirs as well. “Well, I can assure you they’ve never said anything but good things. If anything I’m not sure I have heard anything but praises and compliments about how great of a lover you are. They always talk about how kind and caring you are whenever they’re uncomfortable or feeling down. Another thing they really gush about besides how in their words you’re “sculpted like an archon attractive figure” is how you actually listen to them and hear what they have to say.” he was unfortunately surprised when they emphasized that he actually listened to them which must’ve meant that others didn’t in the past.

Zhongli was aware that some men weren’t the best but he didn’t think it was that bad and if Name hadn’t mentioned it then he wasn’t one to bring it up since he trusted them to come to him with any issues. It was comedically ironic that his lover had said he was handsome like he was made by the gods but he suspected that it was a cover partially for keeping his ex-divine status. Nevertheless, this was great information that he’d found out and he would let you bring it up if you chose to or more likely if they brought it up to you.

Neuvillette

Everyone knows that the melusines see Neuvillette as a sort of father and so when you both started dating or “courting” as your boyfriend put it the adorable group of beings started thinking of you as their mom of sorts. Since they were guards and workers scattered around the city of Fontaine, greeting you whenever they’d see you and having small chats. Many of which you’d gush and rave about all the great things about your boyfriend and how he was so sweet and caring.

Word travels fast but it travels faster among the melusines so when Neuvillette walked the Palais Mermonia to overview a big court case coming up he was welcomed by a joyful group of melusines who started talking all at once. He could roughly understand parts of what they were saying and how they were talking about his partner. “Slow down, slow down. Let’s go to my office first,” he said and ushered them all in, closing the doors and thankful they could talk about this in private. “Now, what is it that you want to tell me?” he asked and sighed tiredly. It was already 10 in the morning and already there was something urgently needing his attention.

Canotila came up to him with her hands clasped together and a wide happy smile on her face. “We are just so happy to hear that Name loves you so much! We knew you were such a kind and devoted person to both Fontaine and its people but we didn’t know how caring you really were. It’s truly admirable Monsieur Neuvillette!” she gushed and joined several others to say affirmations of what Canotila had said. The Iudex knew his lover loved every part of him even the parts he was reluctant to share with them but he hadn’t known they had been gushing about how great of a boyfriend he was.

To be completely honest seeing Neuvillette display any strong emotional expression was rare and the bright red blush spreading over his cheeks was a treat to see. He was extremely touched that you praised him to others for what you adored about him. He would talk to you later to possibly not tell others and strangers about the more intimate details of your relationship because of a few reasons.

Wriothesley

To some of the veteran residents, it wasn’t a surprise to hear that the Duke Wriothesley had a lover and there were very rare times when he’d freely be able to visit you as often as he’d like but you’d often come to the prison when you both wanted to spend time together and couldn’t wait. So the guards knew you well as well as the senior residents and greeted you in addition to also making sure no one else fucked with you if they saw you since you never treated them anything but kindness.

So it wasn’t surprising when one of the guards informed him that one of the prisoners he was particularly close to asked to speak to him and came in with a smile. “I’m letting ya know that your lover is here but I think you wanna hear when I overhead them telling one of the guards,” he said and waited for Wriothesley to let him continue if he wished which he did. “Well, seems like you’re quite the 5-star boyfriend which doesn’t surprise me since I’ve known you since you were once in here but Name wasn’t it?” he clarified and continued.

“They kept going on and on about how well you remember all of their favorite things even the littlest details like how they like their tea or favorite dessert. I feel like it’s not a surprise to hear that another major part of what I heard was about them going on and on about how doting and loyal you are not to mention how attractive you and your personality are.” he hummed with an amused smile and held his hands up, getting up and saying his goodbyes to the Duke.

[yandere-sins]

Hiii, Could you write Satan kidnapping MC because they're his favorite writer? I had this idea recently and it looked promising. Maybe MC is so talented that people compare their books and Simeon's books.

Thanks for your request! It’s very fitting for Satan :3

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

"How's it coming along?"

Satan's voice tore you out of your daydream—a nice one, of a world far, far away—and you twisted around to see him come through the door, setting down his bag before returning your gaze and smiling. You didn't hear him come in, nor noticed how fast the time passed since he left, but immediately you felt uneasy again. "Not so good," you muttered, turning back to you laptop and biting your lip, now overly aware of his footsteps creaking over the floorboards.

"Let me see," he asked. Leaning over your shoulder, Satan gently nudged your hand off the mouse to scroll up your manuscript to read what you had added over the span of the last few hours. There were fewer new pages than he expected as he scrolled too far the first time, and you only slumped more on your chair, too afraid to admit your failure.

"Hm... I'm not sure. It's just lacking the certain something, you know what I mean?" he finally commented as he reached the blank half of the last page you wrote before sighing, shaking his head. "Didn't you say you wanted me out of the room for peace and quiet? I thought that would help you."

Fiddling with your thumb, you kept silent for a while as his body continued to weigh down on you. It was his impatient threat to say something, to make him understand your views. But how could you? In his eyes, you may very well not have been human, but you two would never see eye to eye regardless of how he viewed you. "I tried..." you eventually muttered, looking down and hanging your shoulders.

"I don't really feel motivated... A-And I'm hungry! I can't work like this! It's blocking my inspiration to be in this room, I haven't been outside in a week!"

Pushing back your chair, Satan moved out of the way just in time to dodge it ramming into him. A part of you felt bad for almost hurting him, but it was the part that hadn't understood yet what kind of situation you two were in.

He was the demon that lured you into a trap by promising to be your patron, and you were the dumb human who didn't think twice before agreeing. Nowhere on the contract did it say you'd have to spend your time in his home, in front of his scrutinizing eyes, but you had been naive and gullible, all too happy to sign without reading the fine print.

Stumbling back, you felt the adrenaline rush as you opposed him for the first time since he had brought you here. It was your fault, you knew that. You had enough sleepless nights to reflect on your mistakes. But Satan could not make you his puppet, no matter how much he wanted you to. It's not how the creative writing process worked! With so many restrictions he put on you, it was impossible to create anything—no matter how much he loved your creations.

As you watched his hand rise into the air, you heard a tsk escape from his lips, and you looked away, squeezing your eyes shut and bracing for impact. You've seen his anger, witnessed his rage. It had never been directed at you, but with your mind running wild all day—just not with ideas for your new book—you were sure it was time for him to lash out at you.

Instead, you felt the gentle warmth that his palm emitted as he cupped your cheek, and your eyes blinked open in confused astonishment. "I'm sorry," he said, his expression full of concern and shame. For a moment, you almost forgot he wasn't human; his reaction felt so validating and real. As if he truly recognized how he wronged you.

"You said you wanted some alone time and I thought it would be best to give you what you wanted. But you are right. I should have taken your needs into consideration."

Satan spoke these words so earnestly, not a hint of a lie in his voice. It felt surreal to hear these words, knowing he had kidnapped you in the first place. "No, I'm sorry, I..." you started before catching yourself. Why were you apologizing? Wasn't it his fault you flew off the handle? It had been Satan who had tricked you, so why were you feeling bad all of a sudden?

"No, you are right. I can't keep you cooped up here all day, even though I long to see your new story. It was selfish of me when we were supposed to be partners in this, so forgive me."

Dropping his hand from the gentle caressed to your face, Satan held it out to you. You couldn't help but be hesitant and unsure. What did he want? Would he hurt you if you accepted the invitation?

"Please let me make it up to you," he explained, sincerity in his eyes as he stood there, waiting for you to agree. It all felt so unreal, but the paranoia made you unsure how to act. You had already imagined all kinds of scenarios, from the horror ones to some that made you blush. Being a writer, your anxiety didn't give you a clear sign of what to do, and after being stuck in an unfamiliar, dark place for more than a week, barely surviving on the food and water you had been given, and even less on the few hours of sleep every day, it was a surprise you could even come up with more scenarios in your head.

"You're not mad?" you asked hesitantly, eyeing his hand with suspicion. You already knew the palm would be warm, his long fingers perfect for wrapping around your hand, and his touch soft and gentle. After being deprived of social interactions, it was a tempting offer.

Satan shook his head, sadness rushing to his features again. "No, I'm worried and ashamed I let it come so far. I will make it up to you. I'll show you the beauty of this world and take you to experience unforgettable things. I didn't ask to be your patron so you'd live out the rest of your life like a caged animal. I want to support you, even if I have failed until now. Will you give me the chance to right my wrongs?"

Even though you felt nervous about making this decision, Satan had said all the right things. Everything you had wanted to hear from him, assuring you that you had also been heard by him. When he first approached you for this partnership, you had been unsure as well; deal with the devil and all. But he had seemed so sincere back then, too. So convinced in your skills and talents, sweeping you right off your feet. The same was happening now, although if he meant what he said, then his intentions were still pure.

Slowly, you placed your hand into his, choosing to trust him once more. After all, he had approached you for this deal. Surely if it was this important to him, he'd not mess it up again, right? Satan beamed when you gave him your answer, nodding once in confirmation as his hand wrapped around yours.

"Let's go then!" he announced, and before you could ask where to, he had pulled you after him, opening the door and bathing you in the warm, beautiful sun, leaving the darkness behind.

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

"You good?" Satan asked, patting down the blanket around your shoulders. You nodded, swallowing down some of the soothing tea in your hands before smiling.

"I think I can do it now!"

A gentle smile played around his lips as he chuckled, excited after hearing your enthusiastic reply. "Then I'll be over there, reading. Call out if you need anything."

It had been the right choice to trust him. All this time, you had been fearful and wary when, actually, he was a good guy. People would think you'd gone mad, hearing you talk like this about a demon this way, but they didn't know Satan. Some demons truly were good people, perhaps better than most humans you knew.

After that little argument in the afternoon, he had done his best to give you back the freedom you craved. He took you to a nice beach town, where you two played in the sand next to the ocean, took a long walk and talked, and ate delicious food from many different vendors. Had you two not been in a professional relationship, one could have almost called it a date.

But that wasn't important. Important was that when he asked if you wanted to continue this partnership, you agreed. On the condition this time that he wouldn't restrict you as much again and listen to you, to which Satan willingly shook hands. You went back with him to his domain with fewer worries, less stress, and actually feeling inspired to sit down and write. And once you cozied up with a blanket and some tea, you were happy to fulfill your side of the contract—at least until you were too sleepy to continue.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you saw Satan lounging in his armchair, his own steaming cup of tea on a side table as he read his book. He noticed your gaze, meeting it with a smile and a slight wave and you returned the gesture before looking onto the empty page of your manuscript again, getting ready to throw yourself into the story. You could do it! You knew that now. You had all the support that you needed, and Satan had become more of a friend than the captor you had originally thought him to be!

All you ever wanted was to write, and now, it was your time to shine.

All thanks to Satan's help.

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

Humans were easily frazzled, weren't they?

Vulnerable, fearful creatures. And yet, he couldn't help but fall for you the moment he read the first sentence of your book. Satan remembered that he thought, "Wow, they get it," as he dove into a story filled with passion for the obscure, something that couldn't have been from a mind as fragile as a human.

But it was, and so he found you.

And you were everything he wanted you to be.

So for a moment, he panicked when he saw you distraught. For a moment, he could feel the feeble connection of your pact waver, threatening to tear as the contract he made the first time had been rushed and haphazardly. He knew better now than to be careless around you. You, who had the power to make and break him, turn him into an obedient puppy to your whims, even though he was the scariest dog your world had ever seen. If he wanted to keep you, he had to rethink his plan, better it, and put a leash so tight on you that you'd be unable to escape his grip.

Inevitably, he fixed the problems easily, building trust that you should have never allowed to form between you two. Satan relished in the sight of your turned back, your fingers tapping away merrily on the keyboard of the laptop he got for you. Don't get him wrong, he adored your works, loved the obscure, wild ideas that you put into words so lovely that they touched his ruthless soul.

But it was you he wanted. You he loved.

That's why he decided to be patient. Even with the itch in his fingers to pin you to the ground, the burning on his lips to capture yours so frevently you'd forget yourself. The inescapable pull you had on his whole body as if you were the demon binding his soul to yours, and that annoying part of his mind that wanted nothing more than to rip it out so you may have it.

Satan couldn't let you know all these things he wanted to do with you, the way he'd have you captured in his arms until you stopped thrashing. It wasn't enough for Satan to have captured you, he wanted more. He wanted to still his anger with the softness of your body in his hold, soothe the rage inside him with the sound of your voice. Know that every word you'd write, you'd do for him. It made him anything but angry—greedy, gluttonous, prideful. He could act like the main character in your book all you needed, but it wouldn't change the fact he was the villain at the end of your story.

But he had already captured your body, soothed your distrust, and soon, he'd have that new creation you'd only write for him and him alone. Thus was the new contract he made you sign. A contract you accepted much too easily after he showed you the illusion of freedom you were craving. As if there had ever been a choice for you.

You were a simple soul, even if your mind was brilliant. He could read you like a book, the way your body shuddered against his touch as you dreamed of him—dreams he planted in your head for you to nourish with your ideas. And Satan could play this game for a long, long time, dragging it out until you'd accept his love willingly, seek it out like he had sought after you. Even if it would take forever, he'd practice the illusion of patience.

All so he could have you for all eternity.

[pearlywritings]

Your bed is enough

synopsis: after experiencing a not so nice day at work, Diluc decides to stay at your place tonight

prompt: 27

requested by: @bobaboob

pairing: Diluc x fem!reader

tw: pure fluff, domestic moment, established relationship (you are engaged)

word count: 1.2k+ words

a/n: check my Token of appreciation writing event!

It feels like hours have passed since the moment Diluc put the key from the tavern in his jacket’s pocket and took your inviting hand to follow you home. Though home in your and his case could mean two places - either the winery, where he offered you to move in with him a couple of months ago, which with the recent engagement feels absolutely right, or your apartment, situated in the city itself.

And tonight it’s the latter.

Diluc rarely complained and even more rarely he complained out loud, but the evening was worse than he could ever remember. Nothing functioned right - both Charles and a couple of waitresses had fallen sick the day before (he’s gonna find and strangle that merchant from Inazuma who’d offered them, as it turned out, expired snacks from his land), the number of patrons was surprisingly and almost overwhelmingly high, some barrels came with broken taps and he’ll have to deal with extra work tomorrow both with the casks’s supplier and the workers who missed the defect… Oh, and then one of the drunkards must’ve been in such a stupefied haze that he mistook the red-haired male with someone and intentionally spilled a bottle of wine all over his already messy uniform, blaming him for seducing his wife and taking her away from him. The Ragnvindr nearly exploded back then, and the man was out of the door before he could realize who’d he just offended.

You got it - the evening was horrendous.

And even now, in a bath, in your oh so familiar bathroom, in the comfort of your - now also shared - living space, with you getting ready for bed on the other side of the door, he can’t shake off that exhaustion that enveloped him like a heavy cocoon. Hopefully he’ll manage to scrub the smell of alcohol off of him at least.

When he emerges into the bedroom with a towel on his head and some loose sleeping pants sitting low on his hips, he finds you standing in front of your bed, already dressed for sleep, and staring at the piece of furniture with utmost concentration. There is a line between your brows, your pretty lips are pursed and arms crossed. In his eyes even this looks ethereal - if that’s one of the views he’s going to witness once you become his wife - getting to see you focused and serious while helping the winery owner with his work affairs, - then he wants to marry you as soon as possible. He really can’t wait to add another ring to that beautifully crafted engagement one on your finger.

Forcing himself out of his blissful dreams and deciding to finally ask what brought you to such a state, Diluc makes his presence known with a polite cough. You immediately whip your head in his direction, and the previous signs of your brooding are gone, replaced with a soft smile and a bright glimmer in those eyes he loves so much.

“Oh, you are out already,” uncrossing your arms, you make a step closer and he does the same, until you two are standing in front of each other and your hands reach to the towel. “Are you feeling better, dear?”

“Somewhat,” he answers honestly, lowering his eyelids, letting you wipe the heavy mass of his hair dry. “Do I still smell of alcohol?”

“Hmm…” You move your face even closer, sniffing air close to his chest. “No, I don’t smell any. Oh wait, how about here…” and you shamelessly press your face into his neck, making the man shudder and open his eyes. You caught him off guard and shook him out of his drowsy state.

“My flame?” He feels your hands still in his hair and you softly giggle, tickling the sensitive skin even more.

“What?” Is muffled against his shoulder and Diluc shakes his head. But there is a slip of an adorning smile and he can practically feel some weight of the evening disappear.

“Nothing, my dear. If you haven’t suffocated yet, then there is none.”

You plant a kiss where his neck and shoulder connect and draw your face away, tugging the towel and completely dragging it off of his head. Ah, here it is, the bright grin he loves so much and readily mirrors in response.

“Yeah, there is none. Only an amazing smell of my body wash. Now you smell like me.”

“And I am honored,” he says sincerely, to which you happily hum, disappearing in the bathroom and reappearing only a moment after. “But I can’t help but wonder what got you so deep in thought?”

At first you raise a brow at him, but when he motions to the bed it clicks, and you hum, long and thoughtful.

“Oh, nothing, really. I was just thinking that maybe I should get a new bed. You know, enough to fit two people?”

Ah, that’s what it was about. Admittedly, Diluc is a big man - both tall and muscular, and you have only a one-person’s bed, which he alone could take over completely if lying sprawled. He knows he could always take the couch, but in those few times he stayed at your place, you insisted on sleeping together. And those closely tight embraces under the same blanket are ones of the fondest memories the redhead possesses.

“You know, we could redecorate this place a little and use it more frequently when one of us doesn’t have enough strength to go all the way to the winery. And the bed could be the first step.”

“Is your bed cramped when we sleep together?”

He is as surprised as you are when the question hangs in the air - he didn’t expect it to just burst out of his mouth. However, he also doesn’t want to let go of this tight, but so comforting space just yet - admittedly, it gives him some indescribable sense of completeness.

You stare at him silently, as if trying to guess what he’s thinking about and what answer he expects. But nothing is better than the truth itself.

“It is,” crimson eyes widen slightly and are immediately cast down. Not letting him dwell long on whatever he’s already imagined in his head, you step closer, touching his scarred forearm, gently gliding your fingertips over the skin, asking for his attention. And when he gives you just that, Diluc sees a reassuring smile. “In the good way.”

You chuckle softly when he releases a sigh of relief, and reach to cup his cheek, feeling your heart skip a beat when he leans into your open palm.

“But I am worried that you are uncomfortable. I see how much you love to stretch in the morning while in bed at the winery, and there is not enough space in my bed. And I can be in the way of your outstretched arm-”

“You are never in the way,” the words are firm and the dancing flame in the depths of his eyes is proof enough. “You are right by my side. And that’s why it’s perfect.”

“Oh, you…”

With the trilling laughter you let him fall onto his back, landing on the soft mattress, and draw your body right on top of his. Your chemise rides up, bearing your thighs, and rough fingers don’t wait long to dig into plush skin. You stare down at him, with palms firmly planted on his wide chest, feeling the steadily beating heart under the fingertips, relishing in the appreciative look he is giving you. And for all of that and so much more your bed is perfect, because it's enough.

[circeyoru]

Unwanted Soul _ Part 8 = Requested

[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 (here)

Everything was quiet and calm. Too peaceful for your liking. If you know Vox, and you do, he’d be patronizing the hotel and telling demons from all over the Pentagram how vile the hotel and Charlie’s project was. It was so weird that things were this normal, like nothing ever happened

Sensing your uneasiness, Alastor would stay by your side to comfort you with your favourites, even bringing you to his radio tower when he had his broadcast to do. You were either sitting in his lap while hugging him or wandering around his office organizing papers. When those weren’t enough, Alastor offered to take care of the matter

You saw through his wording and knew he was going to duke it out with Vox if you so much as nodded your head. Even if it was a joke in your mind or just a subconscious reaction to his appealing offer. But no, you didn’t want to send Alastor into that ridiculous place

“Darling, it’s a lovely day for a nice stroll!”

“...”

Alastor came to your side, leaning down to hug your form in his arms while you stared out into the city from the balcony seat, “You know, someone else is faring much worse.”

Your eyes looked away from the sigh, nuzzling into Alastor, “I’m just worried…”

“Unlike the princess,” Alastor took your hand in his and kissed it, “You have me as your sword and shield, anytime, anywhere.”

You also observed everyone else’s reaction. Alastor, Lucifer, and Husk weren’t bothered at all, just another day in Hell as their attitudes say. Niffty wasn’t even aware of what actually gone down and continued as normal for a different reason. Angel was checking his phone constantly, maybe to see if Valentino yelled at him or something cause of Vox

Worse of all was Charlie. She was a wreck the day after. She was the owner of the hotel and the ringleader of this dream to redeem sinners to bring them to Heaven. What if you didn’t say anything and let things happen? She doesn’t doubt that her father won’t help her, but by the time she snaps back to it, it would have been too late

Vaggie was with her all the way, comforting her girlfriend and trying to get Charlie back to her cheerful and bright self. Though it was all for not since Charlie didn’t even arrange activities for everyone to do like always, to them, it was like a repeat of what happened before Charlie recruited the cannibals and Vaggie brought them weapons

You knocked on the door, waiting for some reaction. You got the information from Vaggie that Charlie was indeed in her room, just that she wasn’t in the mood for anything. You already had Alastor distract Vaggie for you to do this. So you opened the door and closed it silently behind you.

“Vaggie… I say I’m not hungry.” Charlie groaned, wrapped up as a burrito on the bed with her back facing the door.

“I’m not Vaggie.” You plainly spoke when you walked over to her form. 

Charlie gasped and momentarily turned her head to you before groaning again, “Why are you in my room? Don’t you hate it when others do that to you? Where’s the politeness?”

“Well, I have Alastor to cover for me, and last I checked, there was no Vaggie at your door. Plus your door was unlocked so I came in.” You sat on the opposite of the bed, your back facing hers. “Also, I didn’t think there was a politeness activity. Not that I learn things like that, I’m an irredeemable sinner anyways.”

“Why are you here?” Charlie spoke, muffled by the blanket that she used to hide herself. “I’m not making whatever deals with you.”

You blinked with a stoic look on your face, though it wasn’t like she could see you. The hotel needs Charlie, as much as its demons won’t admit it, the princess was the hotel’s shine. However relutant they seem to be during her activities, they still participated and bonded in the end

It was important that Charlie bounce back quickly before Vox makes his move in the open. Who knows, he might be planning something right now. You really can’t afford for that. Another battle wasn’t what’s needed

Then again, you find yourself asking why are you helping this hotel? At first, it was a good excuse to send away Alastor. Plus it was an interesting idea, to see redemption happen. Perhaps it was because you saw that angels weren’t as holy as you thought? Perhaps it was how easily a sinner died from Adam’s beam?

Perhaps it was because you grown attached to these sinners without knowing

You saw Charlie like a former you. All cheerful and innocent, so trusting and accepting. She had what you don’t. Unlike you, she had Vaggie to support her. Unlike you, she had a group of weird but loyal friends that stand for what she believed and dreams of. Unlike you, she had a loving father that supports her

And unlike you, she had power and authority of her own

Right. You were envious. You didn’t join her, you didn’t let her approach you because it was too familiar to that weak you that brought you to your death. As much as you hated your life, you didn’t want to die. You wanted someone to save you from that desire, someone to be by your side too like the stories you read and the shows you watch

You shook your head and forced away the thoughts to focus, even if it brought out bad memories, you can count on Alastor to comfort you. “If it makes you feel better, you can yell at me.” That got Charlie to peek at you, “If it makes you feel better, you can hit me too, I’ll recover. I must have made you so stupid. It was… my fault.”

“What!? No!” Charlie suddenly burst open like a butterfly from her cocoon, she grabbed onto your shoulder, staring at you with firm eyes. “I’m mad at myself that I didn’t think things through and just accepted it all! I’m ashamed that I’m not as knowledgeable as you are, and they are my people!”

You stayed quiet as you listened, watching Charlie slump down as her hold on you loose.

“I’m… I’m not as talented as you are. You stayed in your room and do whatever you do, but you’re so… uh… capable! And treated. And cool.” Charlie listened on things you don’t even agree with, but you kept it to yourself, this was about Charlie, not you. “I wish I was you…”

“No. Perish the thought.” You firmly stated when she said that. She looked up at you, her eyes widened when you didn’t even know your face made one of disgust and self-loathing. “You don’t want to be me. You shouldn’t be me.”

This time Charlie was quiet as she listened to you.

“Listen to me good. You are a literal sunshine that I feel like I need to wear sunglasses when I’m around you. A princess you may be, but you treat others like equal without boundaries and without a power dynamic. It’s rare. When people have power, they abuse it. In some way, no matter what. That includes me with Alastor.” You ranted on, “Charlie, you are this hotel’s angel, I’ll go as far as to say you’re this hellish place’s angel.”

Charlie’s eyes watered and hugged you like no tomorrow, you allowed her and looked at the shadow in front of you, forming into a familiar shape. You smiled back and blinked with a nod, Alastor’s shadow left and you soon had Charlie back on her two feet

You watched from the sidelines with a satisfied smile, opting to stay in the background while everyone else enjoyed Charlie’s shine. Alastor formed beside you and had his arm around your waist, praising that he didn’t expect you of all demons to be able to cheer Charlie up from that state

From experience, you learned that it wasn’t easy to bring someone out of their depressive episode. It takes someone who understands and opens up their wounds to help another heal. You’ve done that too many times to count. Back then, you thought you had grown numb and continued without caring for your own well-being. When you realized what you had done to yourself, it was too late to change

But the peace didn’t last too long

As you expected, Vox sent an employee of his to give the hotel a message. Because they rudely declined his support and destroyed his products without asking or at least telling him, he wants compensation. In a week’s time, someone, and only one demon, as a representative of the hotel was to come to the V Tower to discuss the specifics of the compensation

If no one came or anything was done wrong, there would be a declaration of war between the Vees and Charlie’s hotel. It was even noted that Lucifer can’t interfere because he was merely a guest, nor can Angel since it too was a guest of the hotel, only members of the staff can participate

Alastor was quick to side with the latter option, thinking an all-out battle/war would be better than submitting to whatever compensation Vox wanted. Vaggie agreed along, saying that it wasn’t worth the risk to send one demon to the lion’s den

Especially after nearly everyone was hypnotized by Vox’s TV screen and that was when he wasn’t even in person. Wouldn’t the hypnosis be even more powerful when they stand in front of him?

“I’ll go.” Your words broke the ongoing discussion, everyone turned to you while you blinked. “What?”

Yeah, you shouldn’t have done that because what resulted was Alastor getting extremely close to you with radio dials for eyes and voodoo symbols started appearing around him while the room was filled with static. “Darling, Dear, My Love, why would you even suggest something like that?”

You patted his head, avoiding the extending antlers. “Because I’m immune to Vox’s hypnosis or any mental attacks. That includes druggings that would alter my thinking and decision-making.”

Your reasoning didn’t soothe Alastor’s mind at all as the static continued. 

“I’m the perfect person to go, I know about Vox and the other two.” You eyed Lucifer for some backup.

Lucifer sighed and stepped up to testify, “Yeah, Pager here collected those three’s information before.” He eyed Alastor, “Up close back when Pager’s still all workaholic and crazy good with infiltration. Not saying Pager’s not as good now.”

“WHAT!?”

“Beloved…”

You looked away with an innocent look, “That was all supposed to be confidential, so it wasn’t exactly my place to tell.”

One way or another, you ended up going just as planned. Charlie and the others watched you leave with Alastor. You suppressed the urge to push them away when they gave you a group hug, you found it off that Husk and Angel was gone, but then Lucifer seem to have overslept, so…

The hardest part was reassuring Alastor you’d be fine and boy did he come up with all sorts of excuse to keep you away from the meeting. Good effort, but meaningless when you knew Alastor too well. He wasn’t the only one to learn a lot about their partner

Alastor compromised with staying in your shadow and observing the entire situation. He’d accompany you along the way to the tower and leave, materializing when you exit as well. You also had to call for him whenever you were in any sort of danger

All agreeable terms. It’s a wonder that Alastor didn’t force you to skip the meeting on the promised day. You gave him a kiss before he had to hide in your shadow. Then it was show time

“I’m here to see Vox.” You told the demon at the front desk, your hand hovering over where your book was the moment you entered the building. To conceal your identity, Alastor has you wear an oversized coat over your attire. Mostly to hide your pages for emergencies. 

“You need an appointment to see Mr. Vox. He is not the type of demon you can just see. Please leave or feel free to browse the VoxTech products.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed from the monotonous voice and the lack of welcome. Vox was really summoning Charlie like some lapdog. “Tell him a representative of the hotel had arrived to see him. He’ll know what I mean.”

“Please leave or feel free to browse the VoxTech products… Otherwise, I will call security to remove you by force.”

“Fine.” You raised your other hand to show your phone with an ongoing recording, “But we fulfilled your request, a representative came as asked and you, Vox, are the one that is refusing to speak to us. If it’s a war you want, then you’re getting one!”

A sudden jolt of electricity was in the air before the demon of the hour showed up with that grin that reminded you so much of Alastor’s. Your blood boiled at a memory that surfaced. But this was business and then you can leave with Alastor by your side to remind you that you’re loved and cared for.

“Ho, ho. No need for that.” Vox smiled, his TV for a head tilting to the side as he stared down at you with neither respect nor posh. “If you want, as a sign of goodwill and that I’m innocent in my lateness since it was my employee’s that’s incompetent…”

You leaned back a bit while Vox leaned forward to you, gesturing to the demon at the front desk that was already shaking from fear.

“I can always… torture them for your entertainment.”

Note: Ta da~! Vox is officially out now! How's this one?

Circe Y. 

My Works: MASTERLIST

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[koiiiji]

Heey I loved the joker nsfw scenario you write so goood can I request sth very fluffy for example how each day with him goes, where he takes us on dates and so on?🩷 also you could maybe include some angsty scenarios where we want to watch him at a fight night but he doesn’t want us to see the cruel world he lives in bcs hes so protective and etc

suuure hun!!! sorry that it took me too long to answer, have no idea why ur request displayed in my app only after 6 days so i started to work on it late.

hope you will like it! enjoy🤓🤍

xo-xo💋

｡‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧｡ ───

mere mention of apples brought a fond smile to your lips, thinking of Joker's peculiar fondness for everything apple-related. from his shampoo to his gum, his love for the crisp fruit permeated every aspect of his life. you even gift him home fragrance with apple taste. and especially joker liked sweets with apples, all kind of pies, muffins, ice creams and etc, everything with apples. and when you stumbled upon the viral tiktok video featuring the famed apple croissant, you knew it was the perfect choice for your date. you immediately sent a link of that café to Joker. no need to say that date idea was approved in a second.

as you rode the metro toward the new cafe, anticipation for your date with Joker bubbled within you. dressed in your best outfit and with your makeup flawlessly applied, you were ready to make this a day unforgettable, preferably without any distractions from his “colleagues.” or so you thought.

but just as you were lost in thoughts of sugary delights and stolen moments with Joker, a notification from him shattered your reverie. Your smile faltered as you read his message, the words weighing heavily on your heart. “sorry, im in the bar, Wooin said it emergency. don’t wait for me, maybe ask your friends and have fun. i’ll be late. sorry.”

with a sigh, you decided to continue the date alone, and buy that damn apple croissants, unwilling to let Wooin's interference ruin at least your evening. the idea of waiting for your girls seemed futile, knowing they likely had their own plans for evening.

when you entered the cafe, when you were paying for your croissant, you still couldn’t get rid of unpleasant idea. you knew Joker hated it when you stepped into his “work life” and saw him fighting in the actagon. but since Wooin decided to take him away from you so brazenly, you thought that there would be nothing wrong with you grabbing him after this stupid match, and taking a take out bag of croissants with you, you headed to that ill-fated bar.

｡‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧｡ ───

as you walked into the dimly lit bar, the contrast to -at least expected- date was stark. the once vibrant excitement for sharing apple croissant after that damn match had faded, replaced by a sense of disappointment and frustration. the air hung heavy with the stench of alcohol, mingling with the faint undertones of stale sweat and spilled drinks. each step you took seemed to echo against the grimy floor, the stickiness clinging to the soles of your shoes, a tangible reminder of the less-than-inviting atmosphere.

despite your reluctance, you made your way through the crowded space, weaving through intoxicated patrons who stumbled and swayed in a haphazard dance of inebriation. the cacophony of voices, laughter, and clinking glasses assaulted your senses, drowning out any semblance of peace or tranquility.

as you approached the bar, your eyes scanned the dimly lit room, searching for the familiar figure of Joker amidst the chaotic scene. and then, like a sudden chill down your spine, you felt the unwelcome presence of an arm slung over your shoulder.

"hi there, little thing," came Wooin's voice, dripping with an unsettling mixture of familiarity and condescension. words sent a shiver down your spine, his presence a stark reminder of the intrusion upon your plans and the disruption of your evening.

despite the façade of casualness in his tone, there was an underlying tension, silent dislike, Wooin never liked your presence, Joker was distracted, which means he did his job badly. you resisted the urge to shrug off his arm, instead steeling yourself with a forced smile, masking the turmoil brewing beneath the surface.

in that moment, surrounded by the oppressive atmosphere of the bar and the unwelcome company of Wooin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal, both by Joker's absence and by the intrusion of his colleague into your plans. it was a bitter reminder of the complexities of relationships, the delicate balance between loyalty and disappointment. and then your heart sank. the crowd roared, drawing attention to the center of the bar. to the octagon. people seemed to be chanting someone's name, and it clearly wasn't Joker’s. Even though Joker protected you from this world and did not allow you to appear at his fights, you knew he never lost, so why was the crowd rooting for someone else today? these and other thoughts were constantly running through your head.

as you watched in disbelief, Wooin approached you with a sly grin, his words cutting through the chaos of the bar like a knife. "you see, darling," he began, his voice dripping with malice, "Joker's task tonight is not to win, but to fall." the revelation hit you like a sucker punch to the gut, leaving you reeling with shock and betrayal.

as the fight in the octagon reached its climax, you stood frozen in the midst of the raucous crowd, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and disbelief. you couldn't tear your eyes away from Joker, his form battered and bruised. Wooin's words echoed in your mind, Joker's gaze found yours across the sea of spectators. In that moment of connection, you saw the pain etched in his eyes, a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness.

as the final blow landed, and Joker stumbled to the ground, you felt a surge of anguish wash over you. it was a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that his fall had been orchestrated not by his opponent's strength, but by the cold calculations of those who saw him as nothing more than a pawn in their game.

｡‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧｡ ───

in the quiet solitude of the changing rooms, you found Joker sitting alone, his hands trembling as he attempted to patch up his wounds. without a word, you approached him, your hands reaching out to gently grasp his own.

in that moment of shared vulnerability, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of clarity and resolve. and as Wooin's departing footsteps echoed in the distance, leaving you alone with Joker, you knew that this was your chance to confront the truth that lay between you.

with a trembling voice, you said “you know that you always can stop doing.. this..” after thinking a little, you added "and start with something new..." you looked around the small room, meaning all his work in general, "well, less violent". Joker just smiled at you and with a trembling hand reached for the bag that you had brought with you, his fingers brushing against the delicate pastry nestled within. with a bittersweet smile, he took a bite of the apple croissant, savoring the taste of sweetness and redemption that lingered on his lips.

｡‧˚ʚ°ɞ˚‧｡ ───

[simdertalia]

💗🌺 ACNH Big Dolls Set 2 🌺💗

💗 Sims 4, Base game compatible. 49 total items. 16 characters, 3 doll versions each, except for Pietro, who does not have a functional toy version. This set was brought to you by all the lovely patrons who voted & requested their favorites!

Set contains: -Alli Doll: Standing, Sitting, & Functional Toy | 4 swatches for facial expression | 3580 poly -Chelsea Doll: Standing, Sitting, & Functional Toy | 4 swatches for facial expression | 2118 poly -Cranston Doll: Standing, Sitting, & Functional Toy | 4 swatches for facial expression | 5032 poly -Flora Doll: Standing, Sitting, & Functional Toy | 4 swatches for facial expression | 5028 poly -Genji Doll: Standing & Functional Toy | 4 swatches for facial expression | 3748 poly -Isabelle Doll: Standing, Sitting, & Functional Toy | 4 swatches for facial expression | 7996 poly -Kabuki Doll: Standing & Functional Toy | 4 swatches for facial expression | 3682 poly -KK Slider Doll: Standing, Sitting, & Functional Toy | 4 swatches for facial expression | 4230 poly -KK Slider's Guitar Toy: Standing, & Functional Toy | 1 swatch each | 877 poly -Pekoe Doll: Standing, Sitting, & Functional Toy | 4 swatches for facial expression | 1350 poly -Phil Doll: Standing, Sitting, & Functional Toy | 4 swatches for facial expression | 4988 poly -Phoebe Doll: Standing, Sitting, & Functional Toy | 1 swatch | 5094 poly -Pietro Doll: Standing &, Sitting | 4 swatches for facial expression | 1985 poly -Pinky Doll: Standing, Sitting, & Functional Toy | 4 swatches for facial expression | 1604 poly -Sly Doll: Standing, Sitting, & Functional Toy | 4 swatches for facial expression | 3864 poly -Tiansheng Doll: Standing, Sitting, & Functional Toy | 4 swatches for facial expression | 5602 poly -Walt Doll: Standing, Sitting, & Functional Toy | 4 swatches for facial expression | 4914 poly

📁 Download all or pick & choose (SFS, No Ads): HERE

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[starlightrosa]

Spa Days in Hell

And here it is, everyone! The meaty fic I warned everyone about! (I lost the ask, but this was anon request anyway <3)

Summary: Lucifer's wings need cleaning after he spent so long neglecting them. Charlie has to do it herself, despite knowing how sensitive he is there. Seems like Lucifer's in for one ticklish as hell spa day.

Word Count: 3k words... goddamn lmao.

Warnings: kinda intense tickles in some parts, Lucifer has six wings, swearing too, Angel Dust and his unique humour. Still SFW though :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucifer nervously straightened his top hat and fiddled with his cane as he tried to look presentable in his room, in his castle on the edge of the Pride Ring. He was on the way to see his darling daughter Charlie, after so long of not seeing her or the new venture she had set up. To the king’s knowledge, it was supposed to be some kind of hotel to redeem wayward Sinners and send them to Heaven.

Lucifer knew what Heaven was really like. It was nice that Charlie was a dreamer, just like he used to be, but he just didn’t want to see his daughter get her dreams crushed by the angels above, much like they had crushed his dreams for humanity long ago.

“Okay, Lucifer. You got this. You’re seeing your daughter and what she’s been up to. Don’t fuck it up, Luci. Don’t fuck this up.” he repeated, his shoulders rolling back as he checked his wings. On any of the lucky days when he actually gave a shit, Lucifer would have refused to leave the house if his wings were anything less than pristine. But today, he just didn’t care how they looked.

Lucifer had his good days, and his bad days. Since landing in Hell, the bad days outweighed the good sometimes. Being cast out of Heaven and into Hell had sent Lucifer into a depression for a good while. While the sadness gnawed at his mind every day, he had gotten better at hiding it. But his wings had suffered as a result. Some feathers were broken, some were tangled, others were sharper than they should be and dug into the king’s back. To think some angels had only two to clean and take care of. But Lucifer had six fluffy appendages, all of them not being taken care of for perhaps longer than they should have been.

Well, he didn’t have time anyway. He just wouldn’t show anyone the wings. He couldn’t care less about his wings right now. Lucifer steeled himself and put on that confident smirk of his, as he grabbed his cane and took a deep breath, teleporting to the hotel address Charlie had given him.

The world shifted under his feet as Lucifer’s boots made contact with the streets of Pride. Overlooking Pentagram City was Charlie’s hotel. The “Hazbin” Hotel. Huh. What a weird name. Charlie was normally much better about naming stuff.

Well, Lucifer kept that thought to himself as he crossed over and knocked thrice on the door with his cane. Knock, knock, knock!

The door opened at once. Lucifer brought his cane down, resting both of his hands upon the top of the cane.

“Dad?” Charlie asked, looking a bit confused at his early arrival. Lucifer suspected she was expecting him to come a lot later. Oh no. For his daughter, he was determined to make up for all the stuff he had missed. Even if that meant arriving absurdly early before an agreed time.

“Ahh, there she is! There’s my Char-Char! How have you been doing? Good? Good, me too!” Lucifer cheered, giving Charlie a big kiss on the cheek, as he stepped into the hotel. It was… less than presentable, to put it nicely.

Lucifer felt that sharp pain in his back again, and he winced a little as he walked around.

“Are you alright, Dad?” Charlie asked, noticing her father’s movement. Lucifer looked back at his daughter, before he forced himself to smile, acting like his wings weren’t in utter agony from being neglected for so long.

“Oh, I’m fine, Charlie. Anyway, so how’s the business venture? Anyone important I need to meet? Got to make sure my daughter is being treated right by her patrons. Kindness and love and all that stuff.”

“Oh yeah. This way, Dad!” Charlie said, taking him off to see the others. “So the first one I want you to meet is Vaggie, my girlfriend. Vaggie, this is my father, Lucifer.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” Vaggie smiled, though Lucifer noticed the ‘X’ over her eye and indeed the angelic spear. If his wings were out right now, they would have puffed up to sense danger. Vaggie was an angel? A former Exorcist, no less. And they were dating? An Exorcist, COURTING his daughter?! The very idea felt absurd. But Lucifer smiled.

“Oh, you like girls! Why, I like them too! Glad to see we have so much in common! Put ‘er there, Maggie!” Lucifer smiled, not seeming to notice that he had gotten her name wrong as he swept Vaggie into a hug. His hidden wings twinged again, a painful reminder to Lucifer that he had to take care of them at some point. He grimaced, but buried his face into Vaggie’s shoulder.

Vaggie chuckled as she awkwardly patted Lucifer on the back before the king disengaged from the hug. Lucifer cleared his throat, and hummed.

“Who else?”

“Oh! So we have Husk, the bartender.” Charlie then said. Husk just grumbled a little, as was true to his character.

“Hello, your Royal Majesty.” Husk muttered, before drinking from a bottle of whiskey.

“The smiling demon over there is Alastor, who’s my business partner.” Charlie next said. Alastor had that trademark smile, but his eyes told a different story. He didn’t like the look of a being more powerful than him, sharing a room together.

“Good to put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life. I would call you by your royal name, but ‘Your Highness’ seems woefully ironic, I’m sure you’ll agree. Your height just doesn’t justify such a regal way of recognition.” Alastor stated.

“Don’t go any further. Don’t want to say something that you’ll regret, Bambi.” Lucifer shot back, smiling smugly when Alastor’s deer ears flattened briefly, a soft growl leaving his eternally grinning mouth.

“Bambi? BAMBI? Why, you little-!” Alastor growled, his pupils briefly flickering into radio dials, before Charlie grabbed his arm.

“Calm down, Alastor. Dad, please don’t disrespect my business partner like that.” Charlie cut in, her eyes narrowing the slightest amount. Lucifer felt a little guilty, but he scoffed and continued on as Charlie continued the introductions.

“The spider demon is Angel Dust, a famous… actor.” Charlie said. “And the smaller woman running around is Niffty, our maid.”

Niffty waved playfully at Lucifer. “Hello, your Majesty!” she chirped, before seeing a bug scuttle past. The maid got a rather hungry look in her eye as she giggled manically, racing after the bug.

“Angel, come say hi to my father.”

“Your father, eh? Well, well. Hello, Daddy Morningstar~” Angel cooed, before flopping down on one of the lobby chairs and scrolling on his phone, flicking his white and pink hair. Lucifer coughed awkwardly.

“Okay… a charming character.” Lucifer murmured, before his wings twinged yet again, but the pain was sharp enough to make Lucifer turn away from Angel, and bite the back of his hand to stifle the pain. Charlie noticed her father’s pained expression.

“Dad? Are you okay?” Charlie asked, placing a hand upon her father’s back. Lucifer straightened up the best he could.

“Oh, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, little apple. I’m okay.”

Charlie didn’t believe a single word that ran from her father’s mouth. She didn’t use her wings very much, but as a young girl, she had seen Lilith tending to Lucifer’s wings before. He only reacted this way if his wings needed care. Come to think of it, when had they last done that? When Lilith disappeared, Charlie had to step up and take care of Lucifer’s wings when he asked. She was more than happy to, but it had been a while.

“Dad, did you clean your wings up before you came out?” Charlie asked quietly, not wanting to embarrass her father in front of her patrons. Lucifer cleared his throat awkwardly again.

“Oh yes, Char-Char.” Lucifer lied. But the light eyebrow raise from Charlie indicated that she didn’t believe him.

“Dad, don’t lie to me.” Charlie stated. Vaggie looked worried. As a former angel, she knew that their wings being neglected would only serve to hurt.

“Your Majesty, would you like me to take care of your wings? I’ll be quick.” Vaggie offered.

“NO! I-I mean, um… no. Thank you, though.” Lucifer stammered, backing away from Vaggie. Charlie followed him, Alastor by her side while the others remained in the lobby.

“Dad, I insist you let me help. I can’t have you in pain and-” Charlie attempted to reason. But she was cut off as Lucifer’s fight or flight response triggered. Lucifer ran as fast as he could and up the steps to the second floor of the hotel.

But Charlie wasn’t about to accept that. “Alastor, help me catch him!”

“With pleasure, Princess.” Alastor shot back, grinning as the two gave chase.

Lucifer ran, hearing the footsteps of Charlie and Alastor not too far behind. Lucifer was a nervous giggler, and sure enough, bubbly giggles slipped past his lips as he ran away from his daughter and her business partner. He needed a place to hide.

But that thought was cut off as Alastor’s tentacles wrapped around him and pulled him back to where Charlie was. Lucifer attempted to break out of the grip, but there was no give as Alastor pulled Lucifer back to where he and Charlie stood.

“Your Royal Highness, it’s most rude to run away, you know. Rather cowardly, too.” Alastor mused.

“Now that is the pot calling the kettle black. Haven’t you been gone for like seven years, Bambi?” Lucifer snarked back, but while he was busy sassing, Charlie grabbed her father’s shoulders and rolled them back. Lucifer gasped sharply as his wings popped out, letting his daughter and Alastor see the damage.

“Oh my God… Dad, how long have you left these?” Charlie murmured.

“Quite a while, it seems.” Alastor mused.

“Charlie… don’t.” Lucifer pleaded. But Charlie shook her head.

“Dad, I have to help you. Please?”

“I-It hurts, little apple. But you’re so busy already. I can… I can do it myself.” Lucifer said.

“Clearly, you can’t.” Alastor interrupted, but he silenced himself when Charlie shot Alastor quite the angry look.

“Not helping, Alastor. Dad, please let me help you.” Charlie implored.

Lucifer really wanted to say no. But his wings were hurting so much. He had no choice, so begrudgingly, he agreed. Charlie grabbed her father’s hand and guided him to the lobby, pushing Lucifer to lie down on the sofa and helping him roll his shoulders back to get at his wings, as the patrons of the hotel watched this take place.

Charlie plunged her hands into Lucifer’s wings and began plucking the broken feathers. Lucifer sighed as she worked, allowing himself to relax a smidge. But then he began feeling it. As Charlie’s hands ghosted over his wings, the fluffy appendages began to tingle in a way that could only be… ticklish.

Lucifer pushed his head into his arms immediately, refusing to even look at anyone. And then Charlie’s hands ghosted into his shoulder blades and he gasped, tensing up even more as the tiniest giggle worked past his lips.

“Dad?” Charlie asked. “Are you-?” she began to say, only for a deep chuckle from Angel. He fluffed his hair back and smirked.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Seems the King of Hell is ticklish~!” Angel teased, smirking widely at Lucifer, who looked like a deer caught in headlights. Well, he was not getting out of this one.

“For once, Angel seems to say something that makes sense.” Alastor mused.

“I heard that!” Angel called, looking a bit put out.

“You were meant to, my dear.” Alastor fired back. Now Vaggie chuckled, as she slowly approached Charlie, who still had her hands in Lucifer’s neglected wings.

“I agree with Angel, and Alastor. Charlie, you can do the actual wing care. I’ll hold him, and everyone else can enjoy this kinda show. Sound fun, hon?” she asked, leaving no room for discussion as she sat on the sofa and got a good hold on Lucifer. No amount of wriggling could push the former Exorcist off of the King.

“A-All of you shut uhuhup!” Lucifer suddenly piped up, muffled giggles sinking into the plush red cushions of the sofa which he laid upon. Alastor chuckled, twirling his microphone.

“You know, everyone. I believe the King needs to get his temperament in check. Quite unbecoming for a ruler. Angel, get his sides, I’ll get his hips.”

“You got it, Smiles~” Angel cooed, before he grabbed Lucifer’s sides and squeezed rapidly. Lucifer was thrown into snorting giggles immediately as he kicked his legs behind him, laying on his front still. Charlie had clearly gotten stronger then he remembered, and Vaggie had him in a tight grip too. Double whammy.

“AAH! A-AHAHAHANGEL!” Lucifer cried out, squirming. He was then thrown into cackles as Alastor joined the fray, compressing Lucifer’s tender hipbones. “STOP THAHAHAT AT ONCE!” Lucifer tried demanding.

“Sorry, your Ticklishness~ oh, oops. I meant to say, Your Majesty.” Angel chuckled, pulling his hands away at once for a bit. Despite the playful mood, Lucifer was still the King, and he could probably snap his fingers and kill Angel in a damn heartbeat.

“Who knew the King of Hell was ticklish?” Vaggie chuckled, a soft smile on her face as she joined in the barrage of teasing, tickling under Lucifer’s chin lightly. Charlie grinned, her hands still buried in Lucifer’s wings as she took care of each one. Admittedly, slower than she would normally have done them, but it had been a good while since she had seen her father happy.

“CHAHAHAHARLIE!” Lucifer yelped, wiggling like a worm on the cushions, his wings flapping from her precise (and very fucking ticklish) touches. Most in the lobby were lost in laughter, whether that was Lucifer’s tickle-induced giggles, or everyone else giggling along with Lucifer.

“I forgot how ticklish you were, Dad.” Charlie laughed. Alastor chuckled and approached now.

“Now, now. Your Royal Ticklish Majesty, don’t be hiding your face. Let us see the laughter worthy of his Highness~” Alastor coaxed, using his voodoo tentacles to tickle Lucifer under the arms. A loud snort from the king immediately and his hands fell away from his face.

“HAHAHAHA! B-BEHEHEHELLHOP, CEASE THIHIHIS!” Lucifer squealed.

“Budge over, Smiles. I wanna see if I can make his wings flap~” Angel drawled, the spider demon moving. Alastor graciously fell back and allowed Angel access immediately. The gloves were off, quite literally, as Angel peeled off his gloves and shoved them into the king’s wings, and Lucifer was thrown into cackles as he felt Angel’s spider fuzz right on his newly groomed top set of wings, while Charlie was working at the middle set now.

“T-TOO TIHIHICKLY, CHARLIE!” Lucifer shrieked, squirming for all he was worth. Charlie chuckled and allowed her father a quick break.

“I know, Dad. But you left your wings so long. I have to set everything back in order.” Charlie reasoned as she finished the middle set. Lucifer groaned through his giggles as he settled his very red face on the top of his arms.

“Alright, Dad. Just the lowermost set to do now. But I know you’re wiggly with those ones. Alastor, do me a favour and hold his wings still.” Charlie said. Alastor chuckled lowly, the lowest radio feedback noise coming from him.

“Of course, Princess.” Alastor said, placing his microphone safely out of the way as he reached forward and snagged Lucifer’s wings, stretching out the lowermost set to allow Charlie to get at them. Vaggie adjusted her hold on Lucifer too, as Charlie dived in.

“AAH! SHIHIHIHIT!!!” Lucifer screeched, falling into hysterical laughter as he tried twisting as much as he could, his body trying to escape from the tickles, but ultimately getting nowhere due to both Vaggie and Alastor’s grips on him, and Charlie sitting upon his legs wasn’t helping either.

“Tickle tickle, Your Highness~” Vaggie teased, snickering. He sounded less terrifying when she saw him like this. Who knew her girlfriend’s father could be so… strangely adorable?

“SHUHUHUT UP!” Lucifer barked, cackling louder as Charlie gasped above him.

“Hey! Don’t you talk to my girlfriend like that, Dad!” she responded, vibrating her fingers into Lucifer’s wings to be mean for a little. Lucifer wheezed loudly, falling into near-silent, open mouthed cackles.

“I’M SOHOHOHORRY! I’M SOHO SOHOHORRY!” Lucifer shrieked. “EHEHEHENOUGH, LIHITTLE AHAHAPPLE! ENOUGH, PLEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAN’T!”

The wing tickles ceased as a gentler hand replaced the ticklish touches, working quickly enough for Lucifer to not register the tickling. His wings were buzzing with sensitivity and the leftover giggles from Lucifer littered the room.

“So damn cute.” Angel murmured, smirking lightly. Alastor gave a silent nod, in agreement to Angel as Charlie finally finished cleaning up her father’s wings after about what had to be a total of ten minutes and climbed off of him. But to Lucifer, it felt like hours as he was finally allowed to close his wings. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes, feeling tears within them.

“T-That was so bad…” Lucifer murmured, shivering from ticklishness briefly. His wings were finally taken care of, and they had regained their glossy sheen on every set.

“Dad, please take care of your wings next time.” Charlie smiled, grinning at her father’s ticklish grin. He definitely looked like he had been tickled silly.

“I’d hate to see this happen again to you, Your Ticklishness~” Alastor said, in a tone that Lucifer could tell that Alastor wanted this to happen again very much.

“Once I get my strehehength back, ahall of you are goddamned dehehead.” Lucifer responded, even as he ascended to a spare room in the hotel. “You will be first, Bambi.” Lucifer muttered, as he all but fell into bed.

As sleep took him away to dreamland, Lucifer’s grin never melted off of his face as his wings fluttered softly in his slumber. Deserved after all that very mean tickling, and even in his dreams, Lucifer couldn’t recall the last time he had smiled so freely. Maybe he could tangle his wings on purpose next time, after he was done exacting some sweet revenge. And the bellhop would be first.

The End!

[ilongfor-the-arts]

Can I request a Carmen Berzatto x fem! Reader smut? A friends to lovers trope please. They work together in the restaurant and secretly love each other but don’t want to admit it. Eventually Carmy just bites the bullet and tries to confess and then they fuck in his office?

“Bad” at This

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem! Reader

Warnings: sweet then sexy, Carmen is hesitant at first, mild fingering, oral (m! Receiving), unprotected sex, language, mild hand kink

Summary: *in req*

Word Count: 5k

I have been waiting for someone to request him! I had a lot of fun writing this. Enjoy!

When the restaurant was busy, most people despised being at work. They despised the frenetic activity. They despised the feeling of being overwhelmed by the din of screams. In contrast, I thoroughly enjoyed it. I've always worked well under pressure, and rush hour meant I wouldn't have to be alone with my thoughts.

I was chopping my ten thousandth onion of the night, mindlessly. I wasn't thinking. I was solely relying on muscle memory.

Chop.

Chop.

Chop.

Chop.

Chop.

Swipe it to the side.

Start over.

I had done this process a thousand, no, a million times before. It felt familiar. It felt comfortable. The din of patrons was pushed to the outskirts of my mind. My world was quiet, unbothered.

Shit.

I could feel him.

He was near.

When he walked into the room, he had an unmistakable, strong, and conspicuous presence.

My hands began to tremble.

I was thrown out of my element.

Everything felt strange, new, and foreign.

He didn't make me feel uneasy. No, we were perfectly at ease with each other. He was one of my closest friends.

I was just madly, completely, utterly in love with my boss.

Every time he was close, the desire to impress him clouded my judgment. The feeling was so overwhelming that I frequently slipped.

He was staring over my shoulder. Not in a creepy, tyrannical overload sense. No, just in a boss-like manner, casually checking in on his employees. Despite the lack of sexuality in his demeanor, the hot breath that grazed my throat gave me subtle goosebumps

My cuts became sloppy, and each section of onion became less uniform than the previous one.

“Your knife’s dull, Y/N. Get a fresh one.”

I knew he was behind me. I was aware that he was scrutinizing every move I made. Even so, when he broke the tension, it made my heart skip a beat. I nodded forcefully and reached for the magnetic strip that conveniently displayed the gleaming rack of knives.

“Hey, look at me.”

He positioned himself to my right and tilted his head to attract my attention. I came to a halt when I met his vibrant blue eyes.

“Are you alright? You seem a little flustered. Your face is really red.”

He always spoke to me softly. I'm not sure if it was naive to believe that the feelings of attraction were mutual based on this trivial fact. I brought my hands to my face, and my cool hands proved to be a stark contrast to my burning skin.

“I’m fine. It’s just really hot in here.”

It was a lie. The temperature in the room was no higher than usual.

“I agree.”

Did he concur? Or was he just saying that to try and make me feel better.

“I’ll work on that.”

“Carmy! I need help over here! Where the fuck are ya’?”

Carmen rolled his eyes as he walked away from my station to assist Richie. I couldn’t help but giggle under my breath. I knew he'd complain about him later tonight as we cleaned, as is our custom.

When he left and the familiar aura faded, the room became noticeably cooler.

-

“I mean, I can’t fuckin’ believe that guy! I swear half the shit he asks me to do is shit he coulda’ easily done himself!”

This grease was truly burned on. I scrubbed harder, the brown splotches gradually disappearing until the gleaming counter was spotless. I was listening, but there was no need for me to respond. Carmen was aware that I was paying attention to his mindless babbling. I was familiar with the procedure. This was his one opportunity to vent after accumulating rage throughout the day.

I couldn’t help but cast a glance to my right. Carmen was sweeping, his strong biceps gripping the broom handle. His large hands dwarfed the skinny plastic. Sweat drops dripped down his large nose, emphasizing his ethereal side profile. I couldn’t help but imagine how his fingers would feel between my legs.

I averted my gaze and concentrated on scrubbing, even though I had already made the counter sparkle.

“I swear he’s doin’ it on purpose. No way in fuckin’ hell he accidentally pushes all my buttons.”

I chuckled.

“You’ve been saying the same thing since I met you.”

Carmen scoffed.

“Well, it’s true.”

I enjoyed the time we spent together after the sun had set on the small restaurant. It was comforting. I didn't feel the need to impress him, and the stakes of the conversation were very low.

His eyes were on me.

I could feel them.

The subtle scuffing of his broom against the floor had vanished.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.”

Carmen remained silent. But I could see him, looking away, a slight flush on his cheeks. I often felt his eyes burning into the back of my skull. If I was lucky, I caught him staring. But he stared at everyone. It was his job to keep a close eye on everyone. It was difficult to tell whether that was a display of genuine attraction or a job requirement. Besides, I was used to zoning out. I often switch off without realizing that I'm staring at someone, and when I’m discovered, it's embarrassing. And since Carmen and I were kindred spirits, I figured it was a feeling that we could both sympathize with.

“You did good work today. Sorry for makin’ ya come in on your day off.”

“It’s no problem.”

I met his eyes. Sure enough, there was a hint of a flush on his high cheekbones.

“I like being here. It’s fun.”

I sigh deeply.

“Alright, the counters are done. Anything else you need from me?”

Carmen shook his head, his gaze fixed on the floor. At his feet was a small pile of food scraps and stray dust. A few stray curls clung to his sweaty brow.

“Nah, you can head out. Thanks for everything Y/N.”

Hm.

“Are you alright?”

Carmen came to a complete halt. As he gripped the broom for dear life, the veins on his forearms bulged.

“Yeah… Well, no.”

I approached him, smugly leaning against the counter.

“Alright, tell me, what’s up?”

He exhaled slowly. My attention was drawn to the uneasy rise and fall of his chest beneath his dirty white shirt.

Jesus, he was fine a second ago.

What the hell happened?

He fixed his gaze on me. His blue eyes were filled with something I didn't like, something I'd never seen before.

Nerves, unease, and desperation were all present.

“Can I ask you a crazy question?”

He laughed, but the laughter was hollow.

I shrugged casually, hoping to calm his nerves by appearing relaxed.

He had nothing to be concerned about.

Why was he worried?

“Of course! You can ask me anything.”

Carmen clenched his teeth, the muscles on the sides of his jaw bulging from the effort.

“Do you…”

He chuckled. The noise gave me chills. It was an empty, hollow sound.

“God, this is gonna sound so fuckin’ stupid.”

His head fell forward, and he shook it, a few more stray curls falling.

“I promise to give it a serious answer.”

“Promise?”

He inquired. I gave him a mock scout's honor by raising three fingers.

“I promise.”

I smiled, hoping to somewhat alleviate his nerves. Carmen's gaze was fixed on his tattooed hands, which mindlessly caressed the broom handle.

“Do you-”

He gulped, Adam's apple bobbing.

He shifted his weight.

“Do you-”

Jesus, was he trying to kill me?

This suspense was far too much for me.

My palms began to sweat, and my grip on the counter nearly slipped due to the newfound dampness.

“Do you think I’m…”

He shrugged casually, as if he wasn't creating palpable suspense.

I wanted to scream at him to spit it out already.

But, with the intent of being a good listener, I bit it back.

“I don’t know… attractive?”

The silence grew deafening.

What?

Of all the things that could have come from his gorgeous lips, this was not what I was expecting.

“You’re asking if I think you’re attractive?”

Carmen furrowed his brow and vigorously shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I’m so fuckin’ sorry. That’s a stupid ass question.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t know what came over me. God! I wish I never said that!”

I raised my hand to silence him.

“Hey, hey, hey, calm down. I promised I’d give you a serious answer, didn’t I?”

He gnawed on his bottom lip.

“Oh Y/N, you don’t have to do that.”

“No, no, no, I gave you my word.”

I clenched my jaw.

If I said no, this conversation would almost certainly never come up again. It would be pushed to the earth's depths, never to resurface. I could rest easy knowing that I hadn't confessed my undying love to my boss.

If I said yes.

God.

What would happen if I said yes?

Normally, I can predict Carmen's every move, but I'm at a loss.

Carmen clung to every beat of silence. His eyes were fixed on me, waiting for an answer, afraid I'd say no.

“I-”

Jesus, what do I say?

Do I take the risk?

“I think-”

Now I was the one creating meaningless suspense.

Come on! Just say yes or no!

“Yes.”

I blurted out.

That wasn't the only thing I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him that whenever he came close to me, I couldn't tear my gaze away from him. I wanted to tell him that he was the most attractive and intriguing man I'd ever met in my life. I wanted to pull him into me and run my hands along his bare torso as I pressed my lips to his. But I kept it simple with a mere "yes." I couldn't bring myself to say anything more.

Camen raised his brows, then quickly dropped them to maintain his stoicism.

“Um- cool.”

The slight flush on his cheeks intensified tenfold. His gaze shifted away from mine and landed on the slender broom handle. I pursed my lips into a straight line.

“Is that all you wanted to ask me?”

I inquired.

“Yes.”

I could tell he had another question for me. His tone was not convincing in the least. But I decided not to push. I simply nodded reassuringly.

“Alright. Have a good night. I’ll see ya’ tomorrow.”

“See ya’ tomorrow Y/N. Have a good night.”

I brushed up against him. Carmen's familiar scent stood out without being overpowered by the aromas of food. He smelled of cigarettes, sweat, and grease. I shouldn't be so taken with that scent. However, he was able to make the aura of a hardworking man extremely appealing.

I walked past him, my strides slowing, wanting to extend the moment as long as possible in case he had something to say. I began to lose hope with each step, as I increased the distance between us.

“Actually-”

There it was. I turned on my heels and shoved my hands into my pockets to appear confident and at ease. My ears were filled with the audible thrumming of my heartbeat. If this was going in the direction I thought it was going, I wanted to embrace it.

“Yes?”

The tension was palpable. It thickened the air to the point where we were swimming in molasses.

“Y/N, I’m gonna be totally honest with you.”

I gently wiped my hands on my jeans, trying to remove the thick layer of sweat from my palms.

“I’m not good at this...”

His whispering tone gradually faded away into the dense atmosphere.

“What do you mean “this?’”

“I mean- fuck.”

He muttered as he ran a hand through his greasy hair. He scratched his head, and I couldn't help but watch the tendons in his hands and forearms flex. Carmen allowed his strong arm to carelessly fall as he sighed deeply. He met my eyes, running his wet tongue along his bottom lip.

I swallowed.

“I’ve never been a social butterfly and I definitely have never been a romantic.”

So, everything was going as I had hoped.

“I don’t know the right things to say and I don’t know when to say them. I don’t know how to be anyone but myself. Which is both a blessing and a curse, I suppose.”

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

“So, I’m just gonna say this in my normal, stoic way… because that’s the only way I know how to say it.”

I didn't believe he would actually say it. I anticipated that he would abruptly change the subject. To be honest, I didn't believe this was possible.

“I am in love with you.”

My jaw instinctively dropped.

The confession lacked any genuine emotion. It only encompassed mere traces of the feelings he was hoping to convey.

It was stoic.

However, I discovered that I was completely and utterly shaken. He couldn't have said it more beautifully.

“Well,” I said with a laugh, “for someone who isn’t a social butterfly, that sure as hell wasn’t bad.”

Carmen chuckled.

“Would it kill the mood if I told you that it wasn’t spontaneous at all and I’ve been planning what to say for literal months?”

I shrugged.

“No.”

Carmen smiled. My heart warmed. Despite being his closest friend, seeing him smile was rare.

“Ok, good. Cause if I tried to be spontaneous, it’d be a total shit show.”

He sighed, relieved to have finished the challenging task.

“Can I ask you another stupid question?”

“Of course.”

His gaze trailed down to my lips, a soft blush on his cheekbones.

“Can I kiss you?”

My stomach flipped and blood rushed to my cheeks. My face grew hot. God, we were so juvenile. I smiled tightly.

“Yeah. I’d love that.”

He moved forward, closing the distance between us. His breath gently cascaded across my face. My chest tightened.

“I’m not very good at this either.”

He said with a rigid laugh. I pressed my open palms against his chest. Carmen's throat tightened. His pecs rippled under my foreign touch. Despite this, he kept a steady gaze, his blue eyes fixed on me.

“I do not give a shit.”

I said, imitating his laugh. I hurriedly closed the gap between us when I realized Carmen wouldn't be the instigator.

He was really, really tight. His arms hung at his sides, fists clenched in uncertainty. I pressed my chest flush against his, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders. His muscles were stiff and unyielding.

“Relax Carmy… and lose the broom.”

I whispered reassuringly. Carmen relaxed somewhat.

“Right, sorry.”

He dropped the broom. The plastic hit the ground with a loud smack. I tangled my hands in his greasy hair, urging him to come closer. He obliged, craning his head forward to meet me halfway.

Carmen's lips were surprisingly soft. He was clearly hesitant at first, not wanting to move too quickly. Finally, he found solace in the feel of my kiss and allowed his mouth to mesh against mine in a relaxed manner. I grasped his wrist, bringing it to the swell of my hips. He let it sit, not wanting to alter anything I had done.

“You can touch me if you want. I’m not gonna break.”

Carmen wrapped his other hand around my hip and gently drew me forward, connecting our pelvises.

“Is this alright?”

He murmured under his breath.

“That’s perfect.”

His bulge began to grow against my thigh.

Shit. This was gonna be fun.

“You’re really hard right now, Carmy.”

I said with a chuckle. Carmen broke away, his face bright red. He looked down, confirming that he really was, in fact, hard.

“Ah-shit. I’m sor-“

I hastily cupped his face, reconnecting our searing kiss.

“Don’t you dare apologize.”

I reached between our bodies, cupping him through his jeans. Carmen groaned, my mouth swallowing his noises.

“Shit.”

He murmured, instinctively grinding his hand against my open palm.

“Jesus, you’re touch starved aren’t ya?”

Carmen shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut as struggled to maintain his composure.

“That feels really fucking good.”

His tone was completely erotic. It was low, breathy, and his thick accent added to the sensuality. Carmen’s pleasured expression sent a wave of heat to my core.

God, I wanted his cock in my mouth.

“Can we go into my office? It’s more private there, and, to be honest I think these counters are a little too tall for me to fuck you on.”

-

I had been in his office many times before. It was a place of comfort where I could briefly escape the hustle and bustle of restaurant life. At least, that’s what I told Carmen. Typically I’d need time to gawk at him and wonder what it would be like to have his face between my legs. I’d grow wet at the mere thought of his nose bumping my clit as his tongue delved between my folds.

I wonder if he ever fantasized about me. I wonder if he ever found his fingers involuntarily dipping below the waistband of his boxers. If so, I wonder what fantasies his complex mind was able to conjure.

I hope to learn them one day.

I shoved him backwards. His knees collided with the chair and he fell back with a loud huff. I dropped to my knees, lodging myself between his spread thighs. Carmen’s eyes widened.

“Oh, fuck me.”

If he was becoming aroused solely from the sensation of my hand against his clothed erection, I couldn’t wait to relish in his expressions when I took his cock into my mouth.

I brought my hands to his fly, slowly unbuttoning it and dragging the zipper down to expose a small section of my boxers. Carmen shifted his hips as I dragged his jeans down his thighs. I palmed him through the thin fabric, a small patch of precum appearing on his boxers.

Carmen hissed through his teeth, jerking his head back to fully expose his thick neck.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

He dug his dull nails into the arm rests, veins bulging along his forearms from the effort. I hooked a finger in the waistband of his boxers, dragging them down his thighs just enough to expose his thick cock.

My mouth began to water. The feeling of his erection through his boxers was deceiving. He was really fucking big.

“Jesus Carmy, you’re big.”

I wrapped a hand around his veiny length, gently pumping. Carmen whined.

“Your hand feels really good.”

I dragged my hand to the base before bringing it upwards. I spread his precum around his pink tip, lubricating his cock to prepare it for my mouth.

I grasped his dominant hand, bringing it to my scalp.

“Move me however you want.”

Carmen’s head flopped forward, his cock twitching as he met my gaze. He tangled his hand in my hair, gently tugging on the roots.

Without further ado, I slipped his tip between my lips. Carmen exhaled shakily, his chest heaving with each labored breath.

“That feels really fucking good.”

He chuckled. I swirled my tongue around his tip, slowly taking more of him into my mouth. Carmen maintained eye contact, growing impossibly harder as he watched me take all of him into my mouth.

I groaned, trying my best not to gag as his cock grazed the back of my throat. Carmen furrowed his brow, gently thrusting his hips into my mouth.

My nose brushed against his happy trail. He spread his legs, utilizing the grip on my hair to push me further onto him. I groaned, the vibrations causing Carmen to shudder.

“You-you look really pretty.”

I admired the effort.

I hollow my cheeks, increasing the suction. Carmen groaned and threw his head back, unable to conceal his desires.

“Jesus darlin’.”

Darling?

I rubbed my thighs together, hoping to relieve some of the ache building between my legs.

God. The lamp's soft glow washed over his perfectly sculpted features. His erotic noises were amplified by the blanket of silence. This is exactly how I imagined it when I had my hand between my legs, hoping to recreate a feeling I had never even experienced.

I wanted him to fuck me.

I wanted to hear him moan and I wanted for him to make me cry with pleasure.

It was almost unbelievable that the man who made a living yelling and making sure everything was in order was now gazing at me with half-lidded eyes.

I shifted my hips, resisting the urge to touch myself. I wanted to save all feelings of pleasure for when his cock slipped into me. I wanted to ache for him just a little longer.

“I’m gonna cum real soon.”

Sure enough, his cock began to twitch against my tongue. I bobbed my head faster, expediting the process. Carmen dropped his jaw, releasing one final groan as he came into my mouth. My throat became coated with his hot cum. I bobbed my head a few more times, helping him come down from his high.

When I was satisfied with my work, I released his cock with a loud pop. Carmen looked spent. His body was numb, his eyes were closed.

I crawled onto his lap, gently cupping his face. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, exposing his vibrant irises.

“Are you alright?”

He grinned.

“I’m fuckin’ awesome.”

I pulled him in, pressing my wet lips to his plush mouth. I slipped my tongue past his teeth, deepening the kiss. Carmen groaned. I clung to him, his strong torso pressing against my soft breasts.

He wasn’t close enough.

I needed him to be closer.

I needed him inside of me.

“Can I fuck you now?”

He murmured against my mouth.

Damn, he read my mind.

“You can fuck me anytime you want baby.”

He brought his calloused hands to my thighs, tenderly caressing the supple skin. I glanced down, watching as his dark ink danced along my skin.

“You have pretty hands.”

Carmen chuckled.

“Thanks.”

He hooked his hands under my thighs. Effortlessly, he raised me up, shoving all the papers to the side as he set me down on his desk. Carmen immediately rekindled our passionate make out session, slipping his tongue past my teeth. His hands moved upwards, fingers slipping past the hem of my shirt to touch my bare sides.

I yanked him forward by the collar, positioning his body between my legs.

“Take my clothes off please.”

Carmen scoffed.

“Yes ma’am.”

He tugged on the hem of my t-shirt, lifting it over my head and discarding it haphazardly onto the floor. My shorts soon followed.

I was now only in my undergarments, making quick work of Carmen’s dirty shirt. I ran my soft hands along his bare torso, feeling his muscles ripple under my gentle touch.

Carmen’s hands slowly dragged along my hot skin, hastily undoing my bra strap and allowing the fabric to fall to the floor. His palms hovered over my breasts.

“Is that okay?”

I nodded.

“Yes, of course.”

He began to slowly knead the soft flesh, the heel of his palms brushing against my hardened nipples. I whimpered against his mouth, my nerves on fire from his hot touch. I ran my hands through his hair, indulging in the soft moans that came with the occasional tug of his roots.

Carmen’s hand brushed against my abdomen. He lightly grazed my clothed mound, gently cupping me through my underwear. I groaned, breaking the kiss to lean my head against his strong shoulder.

“Can I?”

I nodded.

“Please. Just-just don’t make me cum yet. I wanna cum on your cock.”

Carmen pushed my panties to the side, hesitantly delving a finger between my wet folds. I arched my back into his chest, raking my nails against his scalp, which elicited a low groan from the back of Carmen’s throat.

He began to tenderly thrust his calloused fingertips against my spongy walls, softly humming in delight whenever I instinctively clenched around his digits.

“Does that feel good?”

He dropped his voice to a whisper. His hot breath brushed against my ear and sent cold shivers down my spine. I glanced between our bodies, nearly cumming as I took in the sight of my walls swallowing two of Carmen’s fingers. The veins of his forearms flexed with every thrust.

God, if only he knew how much I fantasized about his rough fingers pleasuring me.

“Yeah… yeah Carmen that feels really fucking good.”

My body was now red hot with desire, every sense had increased tenfold. The feeling of his fingertips delving into my cunt made me antsy with want for his cock.

“Okay, that’s enough for now, please fuck me Carmen.”

I knew I’d get the chance to cum around his thick digits eventually. There was no way in hell tonight was the last night I’d see Carmen naked.

“Um- will you do it for me?”

I smiled.

“Sure.”

I grasped Carmen’s semi hard cock in my hand, giving it a few pumps. His eyes fluttered shut.

My heart grew. Whatever the circumstances, he was gorgeous. However, something about his vulnerability, his desire to be mine lit a fire deep within me.

I pressed his tip to my entrance, and we both sighed in unison.

“Move your-“

Carmen rolled his hips, pushing his cock past my entrance and deep within my walls. His large hands slammed onto the table, bracing himself so he wouldn’t collapse at the sudden onset of pleasurable sensations.

“Fuck.”

I mumbled, his thick cock stretching me to the brim.

“Feel good?”

I nodded vigorously.

“Fuck yes.”

I said, possibly a little too enthusiastically. Our noses bumped as I hastily reignited the spark between our lips. Carmen wasn’t holding back anymore. He hungrily moved his mouth against mine, shoving his tongue past my lips.

I threw my arms around his shoulder as he began a steady pace. His cock was so perfect it made me dizzy. I feared I would fall if I didn’t hold Carmen close.

“If I knew you felt this perfect I would’ve told ya’ I loved ya’ a long time ago.”

I chuckled.

“Not so shy anymore?”

Carmen slowly increased his pace. The veins along his length bulged. They pressed into my stretched walls and heightened the sensuality of his glorious thrusts.

“Next time I’ll be confident from the start. I’ll give ya’ whatever the fuck you want for being such a doll this time around.”

I jolted, a soft scream spilling from my lips as his tip grazed my g spot.

“Keep makin’ noises like that, I wanna hear ya.’”

I maintained eye contact, allowing any expression roll over my features in the hopes of fulfilling his erotic desires. He was now hitting my g spot with every thrust. I saw in his eyes that he was meticulously crafting his pace in order to best suit my needs.

The tips of our noses brushed against each other everytime Carmen snapped his pelvis forward. I ran one hand down his body, raking my nails through his happy trail before coming back up to fiddle with his greasy hair. I was overcome with the need to feel every part of him. My hands wouldn’t stay in one place. I was finally able to touch him without limits, and I wasn’t about to waste that opportunity.

When Carmen established a groove, his palms cupped the sides of my hips. He brought me forward to the edge of the desk to acquire a more suitable angle to ram himself into me.

The dim light was now illuminating one side of his face, leaving the other in darkness. I grasped his face, running the pads of my thumbs along his defined cheekbones.

The coil was mindlessly tightening within my lower abdomen. Carmen furrowed his brow in frustration.

God, I wish he always looked like this.

Sure, I’d seen him concentrate before. But concentrating on chopping onions and concentrating on finding the perfect angle to fuck were two vastly different forms of concentration.

I hooked my legs around his thin waist. All the combined efforts created the perfect angle. I threw my head back, a loud moan ripping through my as I came increasingly closer to cumming.

“Are you close?”

Yeah.”

I murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh fuck I can’t wait for you to cum all over me.”

“Are you close?”

I inquired.

“Darlin’, I’ve been close for the past thirty minutes.”

I was close, so incredibly close. The beginnings of an earth shattering orgasm were seeping into the corners of my brain, clouding my thoughts.

“Lean into me. I want you to be close.”

I tossed my head forward, nestling my face in the crook of his sweaty neck.

This was so much better than I could’ve imagined.

I could smell the cigarettes on his skin. I could feel him pumping inside of me as I caressed his hot skin. I could hear the sensual sounds of sex filling the small office, bouncing around the walls. I could see him, staring at me, relishing in my expressions as he fucked me senseless.

“Oh God Carmy, I’m so fucking close it’s unreal.”

Carmen found my clit, gently grazing his calloused finger against my tight bundle of nerves. I came loudly, my walls squeezing his cock as I reached my high.

Carmen twitched inside of my overstimulated walls, cumming shortly after me. His hot load painted my walls. I watched. I watched his expression gloriously contort in pleasure as he came inside of me, his beautiful face glimmering with perspiration in the soft glow.

He gave a few lazy thrusts, wanting to prolong the sensation for as long as possible.

“Jesus Carmen, for someone who “isn’t very good at this,” you sure act like you know what’s goin’ on.”

Carmen smirked, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

“What can I say, I’m a fast learner.”

He leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to my lips.

“I promise I’ll make you really scream next time.”

His sultry tone made my heart flutter.

“Promise?”

I asked.

He held up three fingers.

“I fuckin’ promise.”