#''i knew him'' or ''wow i was just at that store'' or ''i grew up there'' or whatever. because that is how we establish connection &

[inkskinned]

you know, you know. no gods, no masters, no kings on pedestals. everyone is fallible. death of the author. you know! you are balanced about your intake of media - you allow the wiggle room, the grace, the gratitude, the skepticism. nobody above criticism.

but still. a weird gut-punch feeling, something akin to betrayal. you read the article. surprise! an author you love is actually: a serial fucking predator.

well, shit. what now. no, you knew he was a person (all people are), but now you're wondering - what have i overlooked by accident? what messages have i internalized that are strange and cruel? and also, like, what the fuck?

his actions lay a thick glaze on top of everything. like each place is now ruined, opaque in a new way. but okay, fine, you've done this before. you knew better, right? you've been betrayed by many a cherished childhood author.

still, this stickiness. fuck. can you pick up that book again. will you read it to your children. you've recommended it to others - will you ever do that again? and of course, of course, no parasocial relationships. you were theoretically above this kind of sentiment. but the artist informs the art, right.

so it's not something as clear-cut as feeling he owed you, specifically (a stranger) better behavior - just that you kind of, in a distant and odd way... sort of trusted him to do better. it's not like a real trust or something speakable, just the faint hope that the product (good books) was a thin representation of the soul. now it feels like the product (good? books?) was a mask. in some small or insignificant way, your previous support of this person lent them power. your money and your time and your laughter.

and the thing is - you have this terrible, echoing sensation. how many times will this happen? over and over. you find out that the singer you love is actually a predator. you learn over drinks that your favorite high school english teacher is in jail for what he did to her. you listen to the news idly and suddenly discover that a woman you used to idolize has been abusing her kids for an actual eon.

what can you touch without the static melting off. you can't even really complain about it too much (you were supposed to know better, and besides, you don't want the same re-split "it's not your fault, love what you love" basic advice), but now it's here. somehow, it feels like - you let him into your life.

it's not that things need to be pure or an artist has to be like, endlessly perfect, mindful. demure. it's more just this terrible truth that has been replayed through your veins so often it feels criminally vain. power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. did you want any one person to be worth that power?

it's just that he wrote books where he seemed to understand that. he seemed to know about hierarchies and unfair systems and bigotry and privilege. you thought they were books about what it means to struggle. you thought they were about having power and still using it for good rather than for control. he spooned you a narrative of being a good guy, a kind soul. you fucking bought what that fucking monster sold.

maybe that's why they were fantasies, after all.

[missust3l3vision]

Possessive George would be hot

Sweaty and Embarrassed

Description: George is a little protective over his girlfriend, especially when it comes to the handsome crew member she befriends.

If there was one thing George was embarrassed of, it was how jealous he was about his girlfriend. Not your checking her dms or not letting men talk to her type, no George was worse.

"Why can't I go?" Y/n whined, she had wanted to go out with George for a day of filming, only for him to flake at the last moment due to being sick.

"Because you love me, and I think I might have gotten you sick too. Best not to spread it" he explained from his room.

She had really been looking forward to this trip. She wasn't one to be on camera, but the area the boys were going to had a fabulous book store she was dying to go to.

"Sweetie please, I really want to go" she came into the room, seeing a pouting George laying in bed with his arms crossed.

"Fine, we can go. But I want you near me at all times okay?" He usually wasn't like this, but there was one man he was worried about.

Jordan was a new camera guy working for the crew. He was a good looking guy and George saw how he looked at you.

You two were a little too close in his opinion. Texting eachother occasionally and even rarer a phone call.

"What is going on with you??" Y/n asked confused. She had known he could be protective but forbidding her from going out with him was new.

"Just stick with me please!" He pleaded. She put her hands up, agreeing. When they finally showed up Isacc immediately gave them a fake hard time.

"Wow George, you take forever mate and you still look like you rolled out of bed" the other laughing. One person George thought was laughing too hard was Jordan. He let out a fake laugh before finding Chris.

You followed along, stringing along as to not make the pouty boy anymore upset. His behaviour was so confusing to her, one thing was for sure it was adorable.

"Okay, we should be able to film here. Oh Hi Y/n! Sabine just went to the book store if you want to go with her?" He pointed to the woman walking away, her turning over her shoulder and waving over Y/n.

"Yes! I've been dying to go!!" She kissed George's cheek and caught up. Once she was gone the man stood. He was happy with this, he trusted Sabine and was glad that Y/n was far away from Jordan.

Later when you and Sabine returned, the two of you were met with sweaty men covered in grass. Not surprised in the slightest, after dropping off your bags in your car you were sat behind the cameras when Jordan sat down next to you

"Oh my god Y/n, I thought you were avoiding me" he complained, "My boyfriend was asking about your date the other night. Did George like the shirt?"

Y/n pulled out her phone showing him the different photos of her grinning boyfriend proudly showing off his shirt that had "second best boyfriend" in large letters.

"Loved it, I think today is the first day he's not wearing it" she jokes.

George stood across the field when he saw Jordan sit with Y/n, the both of you having a conversation. He immediately looked to the camera before booking it over. Once there he grabbed you and pulled you away

"I need you for a second!" Once a little bit away he tore into you "Why were you talking to him!? He's practically eye fucking you" Y/n stood with her hands on her hips

"...are you being for real?" George's hurt expression grew "Jordan is gay" as soon as it was said his face changed. His lips forming an o shape.

"I'm going to let it go this time, because you were cute when jealous. But next time trust me ok?" She placed her hand on his cheek, "I only love you"

George nodded and leaned into her touch. His breathing becoming steady as he looked into her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I just got- I'm sorry. I love you too" She kissed him, her having to lean up to reach his lips. She considered standing on his cleets but knew he'd freak out.

"Okay, now go finish up. You smell like sweat and grass" he kissed her again before running back out. He was glad the cameras were off him, because his cheeks were burning red.

[lacydollette]

RECKLESS ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

pairing: bf!sam x fem!reader

warnings: angst, established relationship, sam being overprotective, fighting, lots of blaming each other, mentions of dean being in hell, some fluff, wc: 1.9k

You slipped out of the motel room as quietly as you could, not wanting to wake Sam. You had been driving for days, hunting a wendigo near the outskirts of Iowa. But the hunt wasn’t even the hardest part—it was the weight of everything else. Ever since Dean's deal, since he was dragged into Hell, Sam had been on edge, more protective than ever. And you could feel it creeping into every part of your lives.

You glanced at Sam one more time as he lay sprawled on the bed, finally catching up on some sleep. He deserved that. Still, you knew you needed more supplies. You were running low on salt, and in the need of a few essentials plus, you figured a little food wouldn't hurt.

The grocery store was only ten minutes away, so you grabbed the keys and your bag, telling yourself you’d be quick. On your way inside the store, you checked for your phone—"dang it", you cursed, you must've left it at the motel.

So you quickly breezed through the aisles, grabbing salt, herbs, and a few sandwiches and snacks for Sam. You loaded everything into the car and started heading back, happy to know you’d have Sam’s favorite food waiting for him.

But while you were on your way home, Sam was already panicking, pacing around the motel room. He’d woken up to find you gone, no note, no message, just your phone lying there. His mind raced through every worst-case scenario. Every minute you were gone, his worry grew until it twisted into anger. Losing so many people did that to a person, and Sam had lost more than enough.

He couldn’t loose you too.

When you finally walked in, expecting Sam to be asleep, you were met by the intense sight of him, eyes locked on you the second you opened the door, and tension radiating off him.

"Where the hell were you?" Sam's voice was filled with frustration and disappointment. "I... I went to grab some salt from the market. We were almost out," you answered, confused by his reaction. "Why? What's the matter?"

Sam rubbed over his face in frustration, walking toward you. His eyes scanned you from head to toe, as if ensuring you were in one piece. Even though you were back now, his heart was still racing. "Heck y/n, I woke up and you were just gone. Do you know what that feels like after everything? I thought something bad had happened to you." His voice was shaking with distress.

"I was literally gone for half an hour! I thought you'd be asleep. I didn't want to wake you," you explained, fumbling with your words. "I wanted to be quick in case we needed the salt. It took me longer because there was this huge crash on the highway—"

"Wow, that's a perfect excuse." He cut in. "And you didn't think of a way to call me? Let me know you'd be gone longer? No, no... the only thing on your mind was getting some damn salt." His words stung, more than you expected. "You need to calm down." you replied, trying to pull yourself together. Was he really so distrustful? "I know I should've told you before leaving, but look at me—I'm fine. Everything's fine."

Sam ran a hand through his hair, rolling his eyes. "Goddamn it, I don't care if you're fine right now. It's the principle, y/n. You do shit without thinking, and I can't stand it." He took a deep breath, trying to control his anger. "There are so many things that could've happened to you out there. How can you be so careless?"

That hit a nerve, and your frustration bubbled over. "Oh, so you think I can't protect myself? After everything we've been through—after all the times I've saved you and Dean—you think I can't handle something as simple as a grocery run?"

Sam's face darkened. "This isn't about your skills. I know you're a good hunter. But you're reckless, y/n. You don't understand what it's like to see someone you love get torn away from you because of one mistake, one slip-up. And then to wake up and think it's happening again..." His voice broke, some vulnerability showing.

You softened slightly, realizing how deep Sam's fear went. But you weren't going to let him accuse you of being reckless. "I do understand, Sam. I know how much losing Dean broke you. But I'm not him. I'm not going to disappear, but you also can't suffocate me because of it."

"I'm not trying to suffocate you. Fuck, you really don't get it, do you?" Sam's voice rang in your ears, and for a second, he just looked at you with disappointment in his eyes. "Just forget it y/n."

The sudden intensity of his words, the way he yelled, startled you. Sam wasn't the type to lose his temper like this—not with you. Sure, you two had your disagreements, but this was different. He was on edge, and you could tell that this wasn't just about the salt. It was about everything that had been weighing on him since losing Dean.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat, seeing his fists clench like that scared you, so the only thing you could do right now was walk away. Your voice was quieter now, the fight draining you. "I'll take a walk, clear my head."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you turned to leave the room. The last thing you wanted was to fight with Sam, especially not like this. But before you could reach the door, you felt his hand gently grasp your arm, pulling you back.

"Wait." His voice was softer now, the anger replaced by guilt. Sam pulled you close, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as if letting go would somehow mean losing you again. You relaxed into him, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. The warmth of his arms and the sound of his breathing helped calm you both down.

For a while, neither of you spoke. It was as if both of you needed that quiet, the space to breathe and let the tension resolve. And after a few moments, you pulled back just enough to look up at him. His eyes were softer now, and you could see he felt bad for snapping.

"You know," you said quietly, "I'm not going anywhere. You don't have to worry about losing me every time I step out the door. But you also have to let me breathe, Sam."

Sam let out a long sigh, his hand moving to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I know," he murmured, though his voice still carried the weight of doubt. "I just... after Dean, I've been going nuts. Every hunt, every day, I'm constantly thinking about what could go wrong, what I could lose next. It's like I can't shut it off."

You reached up, cupping his face with both hands, your thumbs brushing gently along the stubble on his jaw. "Sam, I understand. I really do. But you can't live like this—constantly on high alert, constantly afraid. It's not fair to you. And it's not fair to us."

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment, savoring the comfort of your hands on his skin. "I don't know how to stop," he admitted quietly.

"I think it's always going to be there," you said softly. "The fear. But you don't have to let it control you." You paused, searching his face for a moment before continuing. "I'm strong, Sam. I know how to handle myself. And I promise you, if I ever feel like I'm all up in my head, you'll be the first person I call. But you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

Sam opened his eyes, looking down at you, and for the first time that night, you saw a flicker of relief in his expression. He nodded, though you could tell it wasn't easy for him. "I can try," he said, his voice a little stronger now. "I'll try."

"That's all I'm asking," you whispered, giving him a small, reassuring smile. You stayed there in his arms, the tension easing itself. Finally, Sam spoke again, his tone lighter but still a hint of guilt in it. "I guess I owe you for getting the salt." You chuckled softly, leaning your head back against his chest. "Yeah, you do. I went through a lot of trouble for that salt."

"Next time, maybe wake me up before you leave," he said, a small smile on his lips, “Or at least don't forget your phone."

"Deal," you agreed with a playful grin. "No more disappearing acts. But you have to promise me something, too." His brows furrowed slightly, "What's that?" he asked. "You have to promise to stop worrying so much. At least a little. You're going to give yourself a heart attack at this rate."

Sam chuckled, the sound low and warm in his chest. "I'll do my best," he promised, “but no guarantees.” You smiled, reaching up to kiss him gently. "I'll take it." Sam kissed you back, slow and soft. When he pulled away, there was a warmth in his eyes, a quiet appreciation for the way you understood him, even when he didn't always know how to explain himself.

"Come on," you said, tugging him toward the table. "I got your favorite sandwiches, you need to eat." Sam hesitated for a moment, glancing at the filled grocery bags. But then he let out a sigh and nodded, he definitely needed these sandwiches now.

"Thank you, baby." He mumbled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before grabbing the plastic bags and putting everything away. The room still felt heavy with the weight of what you were both going through, but at least you were in it together. You were safe. He was safe. And for now, everything was okay.

kinda need to fight with Sam just for him to be all soft and cutesy with me after and make up..

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

tags: @gibson-g1rl @nuemanfilms @beausling @angelicjackles @sammyluvr @samwinchesterswifu @sampilled @seasons-of-death @starkeysprincess @rubyvhs @deansenvy @ribbonprincess @mxltifxnd0m

[angelltheninth]

The Heroic Build

Pairing: Clark Kent x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, banter, awkward flirting, secret crush, working out, sweet!Clark Kent, himbo!Clark Kent

Word count: 1k

Ao3

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: He would make for a great, but distracting, gym buddy.

Going jogging and going to the gym were never about you wanting to impress anyone, just doing what made you feel good. Until... you noticed that he was taking the same route as you. Clark Kent, one of your new co-workers. You only talked to him a few times but he always seemed like a very sweet guy, if a little on the clumsy side. And from what you saw he was very well built. Just your type.

Hopefully some day soon you'll be able to ask him out on a date.

That day was not supposed to be today. Today you were on your usual run, minding your own business when a mountain of red appeared next to you. "Good morning!" Clarks soft, happy voice made your heart skip a beat, which really wasn't good when you're working out.

"Good morning Clark. Is this your route too?" What a stupid question, damn why do you get like this around him? It's just a crush! You've had those before.

Clark didn't seem to notice your flustered state and if he did he politely chose not to say anything, "It's on the way to the gym I go to so yeah. Plus it passes by my favorite store and I can't say no to their donuts. I uh... you could say I'm drawn to all things sweet." You swore you saw his eyes lower to your lips just then before he straightened his head forward. "What about you? I saw you running the same route a few times."

No way, could you really be... "I run this route to the gym too. Its a good warmup."

Clark's eyes lit up, you actually swore you saw them flash for a moment, must be a trick of the light and glasses, "Awesome! If you want maybe, we can go together. To the gym that is! And then also maybe get something sweet after? As a treat. My treat! I mean I will treat you to something sweet!" His face was as red as his shirt by the time he made himself stop talking.

Damn it, why was he so cute?!

"I'd love to go with you. You look like you could use a good partner. Gym partner that is." You don't know why but you found yourself winking to him all the same, which made Clark gape at you and slow down to process that wink.

As was the case almost everywhere he went Clark's cute puppydog energy seemed to make people like him. When you arrived at the gym both of you were greeted by the owners and a few other people there, although Clark seemed more like the social butterfly, or rather he let people talk and offered them the kindest possible smile and reassurance when they seemed to need it.

In fact from what you observed Clark didn't really need to go to the gym judging from his build. When that hoodie came off and you saw all that toned muscle you found yourself staring, "Oh wow." You thought you were pretty quiet but Clark heard you, somehow. "Sorry, I just didn't know you were so... buff. I knew you were big but- I mean tall, you're very tall!"

"Oh well I grew up on my parents farm so I had to bulk up and help them out." He seemed a tiny bit flustered by you looking and scratched the back of his head, which made his biceps flex and bulge. Oh this was a big mistake on your part. "I really like being in shape so I figured joining a gym would be my best option. Er... are you okay?"

"Hot. Uh, I mean, I'm a little hot from warming up and all, but I could help you out if you want. I noticed you didn't get much done, running around helping others all the time." A soft smile flew across Clark's face. He seemed happy to be acknowledged.

"I like helping others." There was so much conviction in his statement, like its his true calling. It was so admirable it made your already bad crush escalate.

"So what do you need help with? What do you normally do?"

"Well today I was gonna be lifting some weights. You can count if you want." He smiled and pointed towards one of the empty powerlift benches. A part of you wanted to say that judging by his arms he didn't need that but you also wanted to see how many he could do. When you saw how many weights he packed on there you were... a little worried.

Clark though laid back with full confidence, grabbed hold of the bar with full confidence and with a tiny grunt lifted it all the way up. "Holy shit. You actually did it." If he could keep lifting those with relative ease he could for sure lift you too. "One." Clark smirked at the awestruck confidence boost he got and lowered it all the way to his chest, then up again. He was past the 20th and not even breaking a sweat. "You got the heroic build."

"Huh?" His arms faltered, a look of both surprise and horror on his face as the bar and weights almost crashed onto him, "Fuck!" Clark wheezed as he put the bar back into its place and sat up, now very out of breath, back muscles rising and falling with every breath.

"That has to be the first time I've heard you swear." It was almost funny really. You rounded up to face him and offered him a bottle of water, "You okay? That could have ended badly." Others seemed to think so too seeing as there were a few people looking your way.

"I'm fine!" Clark informed, more them then you, "Might have overdone it a little. I..." He scratched his pink-tinted cheek, "I may have wanted to impress you."

"Oh." Instead of complimenting him you flicked his forehead. It actually hurt a little, he was very hard-headed, literally, "Well you don't have to get hurt trying. I'm already impressed." The moment of silence between you seemed to stretch out forever, "I-I'm gonna go shower. Meet me at the front later, we still need to get something sweet." But first you needed to get all the frustrations and dirty thoughts out of your system.

[fakeboycorrection]

Fakeboy story time! This one's a long one, so I'm sure some of you dumber, hornier fakeboys will have to read it in multiple sittings.

Kai had always known that they were nonbinary, ever since they were young. People had always tried putting them in dresses, or getting them into makeup, but it had never felt right. Though, to be fair, typical masculine things had never felt right either. They just didn't feel like they were drawn towards either of those. And though they didn't have a word for it for the longest time, when they first heard about enby people, they knew that's where they belonged.

Going off to college was great for them. Kai had become part of a community of plenty of other trans people, learning about the culture and understanding that gender wasn't some binary thing based on genitals, but something on a spectrum that couldn't be encapsulated with just the simple terms that they had learned growing up. As Kai educated themselves, they grew more and more into a leadership role. Eventually, they even became the president of a group on campus dedicated to spreading the trans rights movement, focused on educating people and allowing themselves to liberate themselves from the restrictions of their genders, just like Kai had been, years ago. They spoke at events, handed out pamphlets, and spent long nights staying up with their trans friends, being a shoulder to cry on as they would start their journey into transitioning.

Of course, Kai also got up to some fun activities on their own, outside of these movements. As a young, sexually liberated enby, they were always looking for some ways to have fun with others and in private. Though they considered themselves a lesbian, and had plenty nice encounters with girls on campus, they had a lot more fun spending some late nights in their dorm room, masturbating to porn online. Some of it was more tame, some of it was more kinky, but it was always uplifting to women and enbies, showing the ways that their bodies could be used to empower themselves, sharing pleasure with the world. Kai loved it, getting deeper and deeper down these rabbit holes, until one day discovering a forum of people that used remotely controlled toys to connect with others around the world, allowing them to control vibrators and choose when to give pleasure out. Kai rushed off to the store, getting one, and logging back into the forum for some fun. They had a lot of fun with girls around the world, even some from different countries, until one day having an interesting encounter with an anonymous account from the site.

"Hey, you interested in some fun?" Was the message they'd received. Kai looked at the account it came from, but it was mostly blank, just saying that it was from a man who was about their age.

"Hi, sorry, I'm usually only into girls and enbies. Hope you have fun with someone else!" They replied, trying to let him down easy. They were about to set their phone down when they got another message.

"Haha, really? I mean, it all happens through a vibrator, and my account doesn't even have a face on it. You could pretend I'm anyone." Kai considered it for a moment. They were really horny after all, and they hadn't gotten any other requests. They decided to indulge, sticking their vibrator into their pants until it was positioned snuggly on their clit.

"Fine, let's get this going, oh mystery man." They smirked slightly, knowing that it would be fun regardless.

"See, there's a good toy." He replied. Kai felt the vibrator turn on, feeling like it was at max strength, causing an involuntary gasp to come out of their mouth. After taking a moment to collect themselves, they replied.

"Wow, going full force off the bat? Don't you know how to properly tease an enby?"

"Oh I know how to. Just giving you a taste of it, so you'll know what you're missing when I do this." And suddenly, the vibrations disappeared completely.

"Hey hey hey! I didn't mean take it away completely!" Kai sent quickly, wanting the pleasure back immediately.

"Then I guess you shouldn't have been so bratty. Apologize, and you can have it back." Kai rolled his eyes and sent a message back.

"Ugh, fine. I'm sorry." Kai waited for a second, but nothing happened. They checked their phone.

"Now, is that any way to apologize to the guy controlling your cunt? Have some manners." They read. Kai wanted to roll their eyes again, but actually felt something stirring inside them at reading that. They decided to take it seriously.

"Okay, I'm really sorry sir. It won't happen again." They replied. Immediately, the vibrator flipped back on, but only to about half strength. It wasn't perfect, but Kai wasn't going to risk losing it again by talking back.

"There we go, that's better. You look so cute in your profile pic. You shouldn't put such a bratty scowl on it." Kai shuddered with a bit more pleasure. They'd forgotten they'd posted a pic of themselves on there. Whoever this man was, he could see exactly what the toy he was playing with looked like.

"Oh come on, you get to see me, but I don't get to see you?" Kai responded, relishing the small amount of pleasure in their pussy. After a few moments a new message popped up, not text, but a picture of the mystery man's cock.

"You like what you see? I might not post my face on here, but I'd argue this is better." Kai stared at the pic for a moment in shock. It was a sizable cock, bigger than any of the toys they'd used in the past. Right after he sent the pic, the man turned the vibrator up, sending more pleasure into Kai's hole.

"Hey! That's not fair, asking if I like something, then turning the vibe up. Now I basically have to say yes..." Kai moaned slightly again. Though they'd only ever been fucked with straps before, they had to admit, the cock did look enticing.

"The only part of that message I choose to acknowledge is the "Yes". But I think we both already knew that was the answer, didn't we? :)" Kai chuckled to themselves. This guy was smug, but he wasn't wrong. This was already the most turned on they'd been while using this site, and the night had barely started.

"Yeah, you're right, okay... sir? Please, give me some more pleasure. I'll even say more nice things for you, like "sir". Kai responded, partially doing it to get more pleasure, but partially because it felt so good to be submissive. They hadn't talked to someone with this level of dominance in quite a while.

"Mmm, I do like hearing the title, but I think there's some other things you can say to earn more vibrations. Some more fun things... Some things you might not want to say..." Kai looked at their phone with a hint of apprehension, but upon feeling the vibrations drop once more, they responded.

"Like what, sir?" They replied quickly, hoping to get the vibrator turned back up as soon as possible.

"Admit that I turn you on more than any girl ever has." He replied.

Kai stared at their phone for a moment. This guy wasn't serious, right? They responded.

"Oh come on. That's not even true, I've been with plenty of girls. You're good, but you're not better than literally all of them." After sending this, the vibrations in Kai's hole disappeared completely. They frantically messaged again.

"Wait wait wait, turn it back up!"

"Not until I hear what I want to hear." He responded. Kai looked down at their leaking, needy hole, then looked back at their keyboard before typing out the next message.

"Alright, fine. You're... better than any girl I've been with... I'll say it, even if I don't believe it." Kai immediately felt the vibrator turn back up to full power, sending another involuntary moan out of their mouth.

"There we go, that wasn't so hard, now was it? And don't worry, by the end of this, that statement will be true. Trust me." Kai was starting to get annoyed at this guy's smug attitude, but had to admit. It felt a little good to say such dirty things. They'd always been attracted to people with vaginas, so saying that a man was better than them felt like something of a taboo. A good taboo. After a minute or so of relishing in the pleasure, Kai felt the vibrator slowly starting to decrease in power. They messaged back once more.

"Wait! Why are you turning it down??"

"You earned a minute for saying that. You earn more if you say more. That seems fair, doesn't it." Kai didn't feel like holding back anymore.

"Very fair, yes sir! Just give me more..."

"There we go, much better. I'll tell you what. I'll give you five minutes if you admit that you feel like more of a girl than a man."

Kai looked at this message, confused. They replied quickly, trying to get through this before the vibrator turned off completely.

"What do you mean? I'm an enby. I'm not a man or a girl."

"Yeah, but if you had to pick one, you'd say you're closer to a girl, wouldn't you?" Kai stared at this, thinking about it for a moment. Though they were an enby, they had to admit, they were more feminine than anything. This was just an admittance of that, more than anything.

"Fine, I admit. I'm closer to a girl than a man." Kai responded, feeling another wave of pleasure hit them as the vibrator turned back on. For some reason, this wave felt even more intense than the last.

"See, you're so easy to convince. And you have to say, it feels good to admit that you're a girl, doesn't it?" He replied.

"Hey, I didn't say that. I said I'm closer to a girl than a man. I'm still nonbinary." Kai replied. Though, reading "You're a girl" did send a strange twinge down their body.

"Sure, sure. I'm sure you're not thinking about how you're secretly just a slutty girl. I'm sure it doesn't turn you on to think about admitting that to me, a man, someone you're not even supposed to be turned on by in the first place." Reading that, Kai moaned again. They didn't even fully understand their own feelings at this point, yet it seemed like this man was speaking their thoughts before they could even think them.

"Fuck, how did you know what I was thinking? Also, still not fair! I'm only turned on by that stuff because you're pleasuring my hole when I was thinking about it." Kai responded, denying the allegations as best as possible.

"Maybe, but why were you thinking those things in the first place? Maybe those thoughts are more true than you realize..." Kai read this, getting even more turned on, feeling like they were getting closer and closer to an orgasm. At this point, they didn't care if it was true or not, they just needed to get pushed over that edge.

"Fine, maybe you're right, just please make me cum sir! I'll be a good little enby, or a good girl, just for tonight if you let me!" They responded, knowing that they were closing in on the end of their five minutes.

"Mmm, I don't know about that..." He responded. Kai felt a wave of despair as the pleasure started to fade from their pussy. "But I'll tell you what. If you can think of the most vile, humiliating, pathetic thing that you can admit to me, and promise me that you'll consider actually believing it, I'll let you cum..."

Kai was desperate at this point, so they gave in almost immediately. "I'm a girl. I'm a girl for you and I want to serve your wishes, sir!"

"That's not nearly enough..." He responded. Kai felt the pleasure disappearing even more. They continued, getting more desperate as the orgasm started to seem unreachable.

"Okay, um... I'll never be a man, or an enby! I'll always be a girl! A straight girl a cis girl, who thinks men like you are superior!" Kai held out hope, but the pleasure continued to disappear.

"Not quite enough... I need even more than that, pretty girl..." Kai was on the verge of tears at this point, desperate to cum. So desperate, that she decided to give in, and let out her deepest, darkest, most real thoughts and fears.

"I'll never be an enby because it's all bullshit! None of us are nonbinary, we're all just attention seeking sluts that need men like you to fuck us! Please sir, I'm just a desperate, slutty girl that needs your cock in me to fix me. Please please cum in me so I can cum, knowing that I'm serving my true purpose as girl, please a cis, straight man's cock! That's all that any of us trans whores want!" Right as she sent it, Kai felt a warm wave of pleasure flow into her cunt. Strangely enough, the pleasure hit her before the vibrator even turned on, though it did turn back on in the end, launching her over the edge and giving her the best orgasm of her life. She came, moaning like a girl, barely able to see as the next message came into her phone. She sat there for minutes, trying to get over the massive shocks of pleasure that kept flowing through her body. Eventually, she managed to regain her composure, panting with her tongue out, and picked up her phone. The next message she read made her heart skip a beat, and the needy, aching feeling in her cunt return.

"Good girl, cumming for me. Your moans sounded beautiful, but you're being a bit loud. I'm in the room above you. Come on up and see how a real man treats a girl, little Miss. "Trans Rights Club" President.

She'd never felt fear like she did at that moment. And she had never felt as horny as she did, walking to the stairs, and heading up into his room.

[hischiershoe]

─── ALL WRAPPED UP

─── SHANE PINTO X FEM!READER

[ Word count ] 2.1k

[ Summary ] Working in a gift wrap shop for the holidays, you never expected to cross paths with someone so frequently.

[ Warnings ] Just unedited I think. I've also never written for Shane in my life so keep that in mind!

Ficmas masterlist

When you got the small part-time job as a gift wrapper in the department store over the holidays, you knew it was going to be busy. You knew that you were going to see dozens of faces and hundreds of different kinds of gifts every day, but you quickly grew to love the slight chaos of it all. You thrived in the fast-paced environment that helped people with a small yet annoyingly time-consuming task. However, you never expected to cross paths with one man in particular so frequently. 

The first time you saw him was on a particularly slow Tuesday in the middle of November. He strolled into the shop clad in black sweatpants and a red Senators hoodie.  He approached the counter with his basket of gifts and a shy, timid smile on his face when you greeted him. Even from where you stood, you could see how mesmerizingly, yet intimidatingly so, blue his eyes were. He had a mustache decorating his face that you would typically hate on a guy, but he somehow managed to pull it off. He was attractive, to put it plainly, and you were determined not to embarrass yourself in front of him. 

“Hi, how many do ya have,” You grin at him, wiping your hands off on your jeans.

“Uh,” He quickly glances at the basket, his eyes bouncing around it as he silently counts,  “I think there’s twelve. I know it’s a lot.”

He brings his hand up to anxiously rub the back of his neck, and you involuntarily glance toward his waist as his hoodie pulls up to reveal the slightest part of his stomach. Though, you were quick to force your gaze back to his face, hoping that he doesn’t pick up on the way your face flushes and you quietly clear your throat.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” You playfully wave off with a reassuring smile, “We had someone come in earlier this week with seventy-eight oddly shaped gifts all needing to be wrapped in random scraps of fabric. Now, that was a lot.”

“Wow,” He snickers, his eyes subtly grazing the length of your body before he meets your stare again, “That is a lot. Makes this seem like I’m slacking off.”

��Good thing there’s still time to catch up,” You banter, stepping towards the computer so you could properly check him in, “Can I get your name?”

“Shane Pinto,” He reveals, slightly shifting on his heels when he watches a brief look of familiarity flash on your face.

“Alrighty, Mr. Pinto,” You politely call out as you turn the screen towards him, “If you can just fill the rest of this out. It just asks for some contact information and how you would like your gifts wrapped and all that fun stuff. At the end, it’ll ask if you prefer a text or phone call when your gifts are ready and how you will like your receipt.”

Shane’s face flushes when you formally address him by his last name, but he brushes it off and focuses on filling out his contact information. He can see you glance at your coworker in the corner of his eye, but he misses the way the woman at the wrapping table passes you an enthusiastic thumbs up. When he finishes with the questions, he looks up from the screen to see you standing there with your hand clasped in front of you and your eyes wandering aimlessly around the store. His eyes are pulled to your name tag that had your name perfectly scribbled on the plastic, and he makes a mental note in case he’s lucky enough to see you again. 

“I think I’m all done,” He informs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

“Thank you! You’ll pay for everything when you come and pick them up, and they should be done by the end of the day. Do you have any questions?”

“I don’t think so,” He shakes his head, giving you a small, polite smile. 

“Awesome! We’ll give ya a text when we’re finished, but I hope you have a good rest of your day!”

You weren’t there when Shane came and picked up his gifts later that evening, and you’d be lying if you told anyone that you weren’t at least a little disappointed. After he left, you couldn’t help but think about him and how cute you thought he was, but unbeknownst to you, that wouldn’t be the last time you were going to see him. In fact, you saw him several times after that. 

Shane came into the store at a minimum of twice a week, sometimes more, each time bringing no more than three gifts at a time. Your co-worker would tease you every time, telling you that he was coming in just to see you because there’s no way he needed that many gifts for the holidays. You would bashfully deny her insinuations, reminding her that he could very well have a large family or friend group he was buying things for, but she was having none of it. She was convinced he had a bit of a crush on you and she was determined to prove it. How? No one was sure. 

The week before Christmas, he walked through the doors for the second time that week, but this time he was flanked on either side by who you presumed were his friends. Shane had a look of slight embarrassment combined with annoyance twisting on his features, but his friends couldn’t look anymore amused than they already did. They had giant smiles and wide, curious eyes as they scanned the shop around you. Eventually their gaze settled on you, and you nearly froze in your spot.

“Hi guys,” You swallow thickly, suddenly feeling like you were under a microscope as they looked at you. 

“Hello,” The guy to Shane’s left called out, a teasing glint in his eyes as he leans on the counter, “So, you wrap gifts, huh?”

“Sure do,” You slowly nod, slightly narrowing your eyes at him in confusion, “Do you need any wrapped for you?”

“We don’t,” The other cut in, wiggling his eyebrows at his friend,  “Pints here does, though. Don’t you?”

Your eyes flit back to Shane, watching the way his cheeks turn pink and he briefly casts his gaze to the ground as he subtly shakes his head. When he looks back up, his eyes instantly find your own and you can’t stop the meek smile from growing on your face, which does not go unnoticed by his friends as they share knowing looks with each other. 

“Sorry about them,” He softly apologizes, stepping forward to force his friend out of the way, “They’ve hit their head one too many times, I guess.”

You let out a quiet laugh, nervously pinching at the fabric of your pants as you say, “They’re fine. How many today?”

“Just these two,” He clears his throat, sliding the small basket onto the counter as the two guys snicker behind him. 

“Gotcha,” You curtly nod, taking the basket from him, “Is this your last bunch or will we see you soon?”

If you thought he was red from his friend's teasing before, it was nothing compared to the way his face flushes from yours. It was a question you had asked him almost every time during his more recent trips, but this time he was accompanied by unwanted visitors, who had unfortunately ambushed him in the parking lot after he told them where he was going, and it made him even more sheepish than usual. The true nature of Shane’s frequent visits was a secret to none aside from you, but he was waiting for the right time to come out and downright admit that. Now, with Jake and Tim on either side of him, he knew it was going to come out whether he was ready for it or not.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” The shortest one knocks his shoulder into Shane’s, “He loves this place.” 

You raise your eyebrows at the three of them, not quite understanding exactly what was going on as your eyes bounced between the three of them. Though, a small, and intensely hopeful, part of you was able to pick up on what they were insinuating, but a much bigger part of you was far too scared to fully believe that. Instead, you wait with baited breath as Shane lets his flutter closed and he takes a deep breath, his friends glancing at each other before they look back to you. 

“Yeah, he rea—”

“Okay,” Shane quickly smothers their voices before they can continue on, “I’ll meet you guys outside.” 

Their quiet chuckles fill your ears as they throw their hands up in mock surrender, taking note of the slight edge and seriousness to his voice, but they don’t put up any argument. They call out enthusiastic goodbyes to you before they turn on their heels and walk toward the exit, whispering to themselves with several glances behind them. Shane’s face is still tinged red with embarrassment when your gaze finds him again, and it makes your own heat up in anticipation.

“I’m sorry about them, again,” He repeats, letting out a deep breath as he watches you type his name in the computer, “They kind of attacked me in the parking lot and forced me to let them come inside.”

“They were fine, I promise,” You reassure, your eyes flicking towards him as you give him a small smile, “So… Will you be back again or is this your last trip?”

Shane’s ears pick up on the slight sense of disappointment laced in your tone as you repeat your earlier question, and he hopes that he wasn’t misreading it. He really hopes that he wasn’t, or he was about to look really stupid. 

“It’s my last trip, I think,” He swallows thickly before he nervously clears his throat and straightens his back, “But I was hoping this wouldn’t be the last time I saw you.” 

You visibly perk up as his words filter through your ears, hope filling your veins that whatever it was between the two of you was finally going to extend outside of the shop. The sound of your co-worker obnoxiously coughing in the background brought a slight smile to your face, and you just know you’ll be hearing the words ‘I told you so’ as soon as Shane is out the door. 

“Oh, really? Where else are you hoping to see me,” You attempt to subtly flirt with him, your hands slightly clamming up and your breathing quickening.

“Maybe dinner? Tomorrow night, if you’re free,” Shane cooly suggests, though on the inside he thought his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

“I think I have to–” “She’s free,” You hear your coworker interject from behind you, “She’s off tomorrow night.”

You glance over your shoulder and open your mouth to protest, but she quickly shuts you up with one pointed look. You silently thank her, making a mental note to make it up to her in whatever way that you could before you turn back to Shane. He had a nervous smile on his face, his eyes swirling with hope as you bend over to grab a blank sheet of paper from underneath the counter. You can feel his stare on you as you scribble your phone number on it, drawing a small smiley face just underneath the digits.

“It’s a date,” You grin, holding the paper out for him to take.

When he reaches out for it, his fingertips graze your own, sending a jolt of electricity through your body that made the hairs on your arms stand up. 

“It’s a date,” He triumphantly agrees, slightly puffing his chest out in confidence, “I’ll text you the details.”

When Shane is safely out of the store, you don’t even bother to contain your excitement when you turn around to face your coworker. There was no hiding the bright smile and excited eyes that adorned your features, but she had a look that mirrored your own, anyway. After all, she had been watching the two of you skirt around the other for the last month, and she was over the moon that now it was all wrapped up.

[calen-00]

Feelings Blossom in Silent Words

Chapther 1

☆Summary: Words are hard, complicated and embarrassing. Flowers end up to be the perfect replacement, but when people say communication is key maybe they have a point.

☆Content: Umemiya/reader, florist!reader, fluff, light angst, miscommunication, not actually unrequited love. Enjoy:)♡

Ao3 link

Running a flower shop was your childhood dream, since you were little you grew up surrounded by all kinds of flowers and the meanings behind them, a family tradition that had grown into passion and now you are living it in flesh.

It wasn't easy to come to what it is now, espacially in such a small town as Makochi, but the people here are just as vivid and full of emotions as the flowers that are now part of your life and work. There's never one day without someone that needs to express themself through something more than words, and you, as someone that has memorized almost everything of what a flower can say, are more than happy to help those people find the perfect silent words through a bouquet.

People compliment the beauty of your work every time and admire how simply pretty a single flower can be, so is not new that when you are taking care of the flower exposed outside the store hear someone go like:

"Wow, those one are really pretty"

And you will usually reply with a smile, "They are, aren't they?" But as you turned around you found a pair of shiny blue eyes that were even prettier than any flower from your shop, and the words you were about to say are now forgotten in the air.

You just couldn't take your gaze away. Pretty blue eyes, bright smile, handsome face and nicely put-back white hair. How can you even say something when an angel just shows himself in front of you?

He was looking at you like he was waiting for an answer and you were lost in his eyes. you felt kinda dumb when he had to speak again to get you out of your mind.

"so, what are those called? Are they daisies?"

You forced yourself to get back from your thoughts. Focus, handsome boy is asking you something.

"Uh, actually they are called asters. They are part of the daisies family yes but the color, the central disk and the way they grow is different from daisies. And of course the meanings are different too, not completely tho but..."

Okay, now you are talking too much, the smile on his face is still there as he seems to keep listening to you attentively but you maybe shouldn't be yapping this much.

"Oh i'm sorry, i'm getting carried away. Can i help you with something?"

"Please, don't be sorry, you seem to know a lot of what you are talking about. You are really passionate about it, aren't you?" He said with a sweet smile and all you could do was nod shyly at the way he figured you out so easily "I'm a gardener myself but flowers are pretty much aside of my knowledge, actually i have a garden full of vegetables, you should see it someday!"

Oh, so he is a yapper too, and someone that seems to trust pretty fast. Does he realize that your first conversation just started three minutes ago? You can't help but find it kinda cute anyway.

"Anyway, I wasn't really looking for something but I knew I had to take a look when I saw you taking care of them. I think I might even want a bouquet now, can you do one for me?"

He just wants a bouquet because he saw you taking good care of your plants? You thought that was a silly reason, but who are you to deny a nice bouquet to such a sweet boy?

"Of course! come in, i can prepare one for you" You head inside and he follows you close behind "So what are you thinking for it? Any special meaning you want it to say?"

"Hmm, maybe something that expresses love and admiration. But don't keep it too simple, i think she will appreciate some variation of colors and scents, i want to surprise someone!"

"For someone you say? Must be really special then"

A pang of frustration brushes over your chest at the new information. Of course a boy like him would have a special someone already, what are you even disappointed by it? You decide to keep it professional with a cheerful tone.

"I can do something like that, i might have something in mind" you start walking around the store, searching for the right flowers for his bouquet "Maybe something like red roses for love, they are a classic, but we can mix them with sunflowers for admiration and white carnations for fascination. They also have a sweet delicate scent, so i think it's perfect combo for what you are looking for"

You keep talking as you pick the mentioned flowers. The conversation goes silent for some seconds as you wait for an answer that never came, and when you turn around you can see the admiration in his gaze, listening intently to your explanation. You can't help the slight blush that now paints your cheeks.

"I-is it fine for you?"

And just like your words brought him back to earth, he rushes to answer.

"Oh, more than fine, I think it’s perfect! It seems like you really know your stuff, your enthusiasm is very...attractive"

"Attractive!? Don't call me attractive when you are gonna gift flowers to someone else!" But you don't say that, instead you blush even more than you were before and try to understand how he could say those words so casually.

"O-oh thank you, is the first time someone refers to my work like that but i hope your special someone thinks that way too. Come on, you can wait some minutes while i make your bouquet"

The shop remains in silence while you work in your bouquet, the only sound being the chatters from people outside and the ticking of the clock on the counter, is not uncomfortable tho, you can feel the boy's gaze following every movement of your hands, which you can't deny it doesn't make you feel kinda nervous, just like his whole presence.

"To you, what does it mean when someone gives you flowers?"

The question took you by surprise, no one had ever asked you something like that before, but you don't mind a little chatting while you keep your hands at work.

"For me? Well, I'm not really the one who receives them, but I think it’s a nice gesture that can bring a lot of joy to someone. It means that you think of this person as someone special to you and that will make you happy seeing them smile with the detail" You sound almost hopeless, like is something you had been thinking for a while "And since i have some knowledge about the language of flowers, i can help people put a deeper meaning into their gifts, kinda like expressing their feelings into something more than words"

The look he gives you seems to be one of compassion, almost like feel some shame for you after hearing your words.

"You are absolutely right, I think it is a beautiful way to show affection, but... you've never received flowers before?"

And this question kinda itches, because you never did. Aside from the ones that you shared with your family, no one has ever given you a bouquet before, and even though you are immensely happy making bouquets for others, you often wonder what would it feel like to be on the receiving end.

"Actually no, I have never" you speak in a hopeless tone as you wrap the decorative paper around the flowers "But wouldn't it be silly? Gift flowers to a florist, i'm surrounded by them all the time, it wouldn't make sense for someone like me to receive something that i already have"

Again, silence fills the conversation, but you can hear footsteps getting closer to your working table as you tie the bouquet with a final bow. And when you raise your head there's again that sincere smile and a pair of eyes looking softly at you.

"But it is not all about the flowers isn't it?" His voice sounds soft and gentle, his sweet tone caress your senses with his words "It's about the meaning behind it, you said it. You can be surrounded by thousands of them, but wouldn't the gifted ones be more special than the others because they came from someone else?"

And you couldn't stop the way your heart was beating fast against your chest, suddenly feeling your face getting hotter and, shit, now you wanna receive flowers from him so bad

"yeah, you are... absolutely right" you repeat his previous words in what almost sounds like a whisper, the idea of it growing bigger in your head with every second. But now is not the time for that "A-anyways, your bouquet is ready. What do you think?"

He seems to finally look away from you, his eyes now glowing in admiration at your work.

"Wow! It's stunning! Genuinely breathtaking, she is gonna love it for sure"

And the remainder of the person that he's gonna give the bouquet is like a bucket of cold water, but is alright, you shouldn't be thinking this like this of someone that is already taken, even when his charming personality and sweet words had your heart racing the entire time he was here. It is what it is.

"I'm glad you liked it, I bet she will love it too. She is pretty lucky i would say"

"Oh, she is but I'm the lucky one too, for having the chance to know you now" and damn, can't he stop being so sweet for a damn minute? "I'll definitely return. I'll show you my work too, you'll be impressed by my huge garden, just wait for it!"

"I can't wait to see it" you say between giggles and you can't be more excited to see him again next time.

He was the most handsome boy you ever met, sweet, charming and funny at the same time. He was... adorable. You feel the urge to let him know exactly what you think of him but you can't say it out loud. Words are hard, complicated and embarrassing, you are too shy to even try to talk it out so... why not try other way?

"Oh wait, before you go" You rush to say and turn in your heels to search for something, returning with a single white flower in your hand "This is for you. Is a camellia"

The way his eyes shine at the little gift doesn't go missing by you, he seems surprised but happy to receive it anyways. Is that a blush what you see on top of his cheeks?

"A camellia? It's so lovely" he gives you a warm smile as he took the flower from your hand, admiring the gift as if it was the prettiest thing he could receive "Thank you so much, is there a meaning behind it?"

"T-the meaning? Umm..." you stumble in your words, trying to find an explanation without giving away much of your real intentions "I-i... it reminded me of your hair. You look quite alike, don't you think?"

He stays quiet for a bit and you swallow nervously while waiting for an answer, but a loud and bright laugh is what you receive in response. The perfect reply for you, you wish you can hear it many more times.

"Hahaha! My hair, huh? I suppose we do share some resemblance" His laugh continues for another couple of seconds and is so contagious that you can't help the little giggles that escapes your lips at seeing him enjoy a single flower this much "Thank you, i will take good care of it"

You two share another seconds in silence, just looking at each other with soft smiles. And you wished to be able to freeze the time and stay like that for longer, but even he figures out is time to go when he sees the hour ticking on the clock.

"I think I should be going now. I will come back, is a promise" He said while walking towards the exit, his eyes still looking at you as he walks away "Take care, Camellia"

And before you can even register the way he called you he is already out the shop, leaving you flushed in red and with a fast beating heart bumping against your chest.

"Camellia" the way he called you, it sounded so affectionate, so adorable and sweet. And you repeat the new given nickname in your head over and over again, figuring out he didn't ask you for your name and maybe that's why... wait, neither did you. You don't know his name.

"Oh, I'm so stupid!"

.

.

.

Bonus

"Kotohaaa!! Look what i got you, they are just as cute as you aren't they?"

"Spending your money on gifts again? Hajime, i already told you to have to start saving your money"

"I know but they were looking so pretty, I couldn't resist! Oh, and the florist was so sweet too, she even gifted me a flower for me, you should check her flower shop one day. Actually, let's go together, I wanna talk to her again!"

"Hmm, I might do it when I'm free, I'm looking for new decorations for the café. What's her name?"

"Her name is... um, uh..."

"Oh, you are so stupid"

.

.

.

White camellia : Symbolizes you are adorable and flawless

[gingerteafairy]

𝙨𝙚𝙭 𝙖𝙙𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙨 (𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙭 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

Playing games with Alex is obviously something smutty.

tags n warnings: a WAY TOO suggestive fluff, no smut (maybe licking), kinky(?). word count: 3.3k

It was Wednesday, and the store felt like a museum—quiet, dusty, and dead.

Yeah, you could have gotten up and wiped down a few shelves just to kill time, maybe shake up the monotony of sitting around, waiting for another weirdo to wander in. But instead, you just tipped your head back, eyes on the ceiling, and let out a dramatic sigh.  

"You ever think about actually working?" 

Alex’s voice, smooth as melted caramel, cut through your boredom like a hot knife. A smirk tugged at your lips as you tilted your head down, catching sight of him strolling over. He leaned on the counter, elbows resting like he owned the place—which, technically, he kind of did.  

"I would work if there was something to actually do," you shot back, propping your head in your hand. Your elbow was so close to his hands that you could feel the faint brush of his knuckles as he doodled on the dusty glass counter.  

"Touché," he chuckles. His curls caught the faint flicker of the neon sign outside, making him look annoyingly good for someone who claimed to hate his job.  

"Five hours. Five freakin’ hours of standing here, and not one person has walked through that door," you said, watching his fingers trace invisible shapes. You knew you'd have to clean up the fingerprints later, but honestly? You didn’t mind. Not when it was Alex.  

"Can’t really blame ‘em. It’s Wednesday," he replied, finally looking up at you. His hazel eyes locked onto yours, and just like that, your cheeks went warm. Damn him and that crooked little smile.  

"Guess people don't have sex on Wednesdays," you quipped, trying to play it cool.  

"Nah, you’re wrong. Totally wrong," he laughs, shaking his head. "People go hard on Wednesdays. Like, sneaky wild. Trust me."  

"If you say so," you bubble, shrugging as you stretched, trying to loosen up the stiffness in your back from sitting too long. "Feels like we’re the only losers stuck here doing nothing, though."

"Maybe," he said, his gaze sweeping the store before settling back on you. A slow grin spread across his face as he leaned in closer. "But hey, who says we can’t make it interesting and gon wild?"

“Oh, really?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, your lips twitching into a grin. “And what we're gonna do?”

His smile widened, dimples popping as he rested his chin on his hand. "I dunno, something cool. A game, talk some shit, maybe get creative. Why? You scared of a little fun?"

"Tempting," you softened, leaning forward until your faces were a little too close. "But I think I’ll just sit here and embrace the boredom. Really lean into it."

Alex mirrored you, resting his weight on his elbows. "Oh yeah?" His voice dropped as he gave you a slow once-over, his gaze lingering before snapping back to yours. "What if I’m bored outta my mind? Huh? You gonna just let me suffer? Don’t forget, I could totally fire you."

"Wow, abuse of power much?" you shot back, licking your lips out of habit. They felt dry again as his laughter hit you, low and easy, filling the empty space between you.  

“Maybe I like to use my rank to get what I want, even if it's dirty," he admitted, straightening up. The space between you grew, and you hated how much you noticed it. "But for real. Let’s do something. I’m not about to die of boredom with you sitting right here."

His smirk only grows as he stands up from leaning on the counter. You clean your throat, standing up nervously. “What we're gonna do? I'm out of ideas.” 

He takes a step closer to you, only an arms length away. There's a hint of excitement in his eyes as he speaks.“We're in a sex shop. There's a world of fun here.” 

“Yeah…you're right.” You blushed, chuckling as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. 

His eyes flickered over your face slowly and motions with his head. "C'mon, follow me." 

You follow him through the store, weaving between dusty shelves stacked with all kinds of oddities, until you both stop in front of a small display of games. He grabs a box and turns to you with a playful, almost mischievous grin.  

"Sex Adventures. Chasing the pleasure chest," he announces, holding it up like it’s some sort of treasure. “Roleplays, fantasies and confessions. An excellent turn on for your sexy night.”

You roll your eyes. “Seriously?"

“No, look. There's more.” he giggles, shaking the box a little for emphasis, his curls bouncing slightly with the motion and reading the back of the box. “Dozen minutes of pleasure. Who's gonna cum first? Ok. This shit is great. We need to try.” 

"Fine," you concede with a smirk. "But maybe we should flip the sign to ‘closed’ first, just in case."

"Nah, don’t bother. Nobody’s coming in anyway," he says, laughing as you both share a knowing glance.  

"You're right," you agree, chuckling as he grabs your hand and pulls you toward the back of the store.  

The warm, calloused feel of his hand sends a flicker of electricity through you, but you shove the thought aside as you step into his office.  

He pushes open the door, gesturing dramatically for you to enter before plopping down in his swivel chair. You take the seat across from him, leaning back as he tears open the game box with exaggerated enthusiasm. Cards, dice, and random bits of paper scatter across the desk.  

You reach out for one of the dice, but Alex swats your hand away with a teasing slap.  

"Hey!" you exclaim, laughing as you pull your hand back and rest it in your lap.  

"Patience, rookie," he teases, his grin wide as he starts sorting the cards into neat piles.  

You watch him, amused, as he carefully lines everything up like it’s some kind of sacred ritual. You grab one of the dice and roll it across the desk, his eyes lighting up with the thrill of the game.

“Four," you announce, picking up your tiny plastic piece and moving it forward on the board. “White card… confession."

"Nice," Alex chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "Go for it. This is a judgment-free zone."

You laugh at his goofy attempt to make you comfortable, shaking your head as you pick up the card. "What do you think about when you masturbate? I dunno. Sex?"

"Really? I can't believe it, you're dirty. Who thinks about sex when masturbating?” he jokes, you can’t help but smile, even through the nervous energy buzzing between you.

Finally, he grabs a die and rolls it across the table.

"Six," he announces with a triumphant grin, picking up a tiny plastic game piece and moving it across the board. "Alright, grab a red card. That’s a dare, and… oh no. Oh man, this is gonna be good… Oh my God!"

"I can’t believe we’re actually doing this," you groan, burying your face in your hands. You peek through your fingers just in time to see his brow furrow as he reads the card. "What’s it say?"

"First of all. Are you ready to go wild?" he asks, his laughter bubbling up as he looks at you with mock seriousness.

"Why? Is it that bad?" you giggle, trying to sneak a glance at the card. He pulls it away, laughing even harder."Come on, Alex! Just tell me already!"

"No, no. First, you gotta answer—are you ready to go wild?" He’s still laughing, his voice teasing but insistent.

"Oh my God!" you cry, doubling over with laughter, clutching your stomach as you wave for him to spill the details. "Just tell me, for the love of all that’s holy!"

“This question is everything but holy.” He announced, giggling. “Alright. Spell ‘fuck me’ with your tongue on the neck of the person in front of you or dance a naughty song.” 

You bite your lip, trying desperately to hold back your laughter, but it’s no use. It bursts out of you, loud and uncontrollable, as you nearly tip backward in your chair. Alex is no better, clutching his stomach as he doubles over, wheezing.  

"What the actual fuck?!" you choke out, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from laughing so hard. You grab the card and read it for yourself, laughing even harder as you wave it in front of him.  

"I know, I know," he chortled, his voice still shaky from laughter as he straightens up in his chair. "But hey, a dare’s a dare. And it's weird cause they give you options. I gotta do it. Unless, of course, I need the lady’s permission first," he teases, pushing his chair back and standing up.  

Your heart skips slightly as a wave of shyness washes over you, but you force it down. After all, this was Alex—your ridiculously handsome, painfully charming manager. You weren’t immune to his magnetism, no one would be.  

“Go for it," you say, your voice a touch too casual as you bite your lip, the faintest hint of nervousness betraying you. His sharp eyes catch it, but he only smirks, clearly amused.  

"Alright then. Here goes the naughty boy on a sexy dance," he declares, stepping around the desk toward you.  

He rests his hands on the arms of your chair, leaning in just enough to make your breath hitch. His grin widens as he kneels dramatically in front of you.  

"Ready?" he asks, his tone dripping with over-the-top theatrics. 

“Ready," you manage, laughing softly as you flip your hair to the side to make access for him. 

Alex sighs, licking his lips as he briefly lifts his body approaching your neck. He eyes you and you couldn't believe what you saw. He was nervous at you. Alex was blushing and leaning to your neck. You swallowed, staring at the wall. The moment you felt his tongue on your neck, you shutted your eyes, containing a mewl when he spelled F. 

"We can stop…if you want to " he suggests, his voice weak as he pushes his head back. Shit. He listened. 

“No…” you breathe, licking your lips when you observe his wet pink lips.”Don't be a pussy, Alex. Keep going.” you teased trying not to sound so aroused. Game didn't even start and you already felt the sticky sensation down on you. 

He leans down to your ear, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. “I won't stop.” He whispered and you shivered, pulse quickening. 

Alex stocked his tongue again and traced an F again. You figured that each letter seemed to be traced slower and more pressed than the other. Seemed like he was trying to get you on the edge and he was. Fucking Alex was making you wet on purpose. 

He pushed back and you groaned, feeling him away again. Why does it have to be such a small word? He could spell a whole book in there if he could.

Alex giggled, watching you blushing and stomping on your spot, touching your neck. “Do you want me to dirty dance?”

Oh, how you wanted him dancing for you. He had a waist that had you looking every single time he picked something from the shelves. 

“Only if you have a whole Spotify playlist.” You cleared your throat, fixing yourself on your place as he came back to his, crossing your legs to suppress the shameful wetness on your core. 

He grinned, rolling his eyes playfully and your mouth fell. “No, Alex… you really have a sex playlist?”

“Who doesn't?” He shrugged. “Nah. Just kidding. It's for the store. The Weeknd rocks like crazy on them. Clients like them.”

“He does.” You concur, giggling. “Almost all of them have The Weeknd and Chase Atlantic. Seems like they're the only artists who do it.”

“Don't forget pillow talk by Zayn,” he playfully interrupted, leaning lazily on his chair, spreading his legs as you pressed yours when he did it. “If I'm gonna dance, I'll choose this one.” 

You could swear to God you saw a little volume on those pants, but you shook your head. Probably imagination. Yeah, definitely. Yeah right, Alex was hard just by licking your neck. No…

You draw another red card, letting out a deep sigh before even reading it. "Alright, here we go… dare. What now?"

Alex crosses his arms, leaning forward slightly with a mischievous grin. Reading the card, your face heats up instantly. "Oh no. No, no, no. I’m not doing this."  

"What is it?" he asks, clearly entertained. "No backing out now. Rules are rules."

You groan, burying your face in your hands before mumbling, “I have to act out a scene from a porn movie."

Alex’s eyes widen, and his grin grows even wider. "That’s amazing. Which movie?"

“Don’t say it like that—it doesn’t help!" you protest, standing up reluctantly. “It doesn’t say which one. I just… have to improvise," you read from the card, sighing in defeat.  

He leans back in his chair, far too amused by your embarrassment. "I’m waiting. Show me your porn moment."

Heart pounding, you take a deep breath and start. First, you throw yourself dramatically from the chair, pretending to be a bed. Then, in a slightly clumsy move, you roll to the side, shouting, “Oh no, not like this… Not on the floor…Oh…God!”  

You crouch behind it, flipping your hair dramatically. “We're fucking hard in the wall, lets go.” you leap into the air, spin awkwardly, leaning on the wall, letting out a triumphant yell. “Yeah! Fuck!” 

When you finish, completely out of breath and with your face burning, you collapse back into your chair, covering your eyes with your hands. "I can’t believe I just did that."

Alex, who had been silent during your entire performance, begins clapping slowly, his laughter full of surprise and approval. "Wow! That was… absolutely incredible. Seriously, where have you been hiding that talent?"

You groan, hiding your face behind your hands, but you can’t stop yourself from laughing too. “That was awful, Alex. Please, never speak of this again."

"Are you kidding me? That was amazing! You should be hired for pornhub. I would sign it.” He keeps laughing, his eyes sparkling with something that makes your heart race. “You went all in, and that’s what made it so good.”

Alex picks up the dice again, glancing at you with a flicker of concern in his eyes. He rolls it, and the number two comes up. Moving his piece on the board, he stops on a black card. His brows knit together as he grabs the card, and you instinctively lean forward to catch his reaction.  

"Black card… wonder what that’s about," he mutters, turning the plastic card over. The moment he reads it, his eyes widen, and you feel a lump form in your throat.  

"Uh… look, it’s totally fine if you don’t want to do this," he stammers, scratching the back of his head. "It’s kinda weird." 

"Just say it," you urge, leaning in a little more, curiosity getting the better of you.  

"Well… uh…" He fumbles, glancing between you and the card before letting out a shaky laugh. "We have to stand up for this one."

You tilt your head, but something about his nervousness makes you nod anyway. Rising from your chair, you stand across from him. He follows suit, and suddenly, he’s right there—closer than you expected. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, his eyes quickly darting over you before meeting yours again.  

“It's a game called 10 minutes of pleasure" he finally says, his voice soft but steady. “I need to give you 10 minutes of pleasure.”

Your cheeks burn instantly. That wasn’t what you were expecting. Not at all.  

“Alright," you breathe, trying to keep your composure as he extends a hand toward you. You take it, your fingers brushing against his in a way that makes your heart flutter.  

His hands hesitantly rests on your waist, and you place yours on his shoulder. His gaze meets yours, searching for any sign of discomfort. When you give a small nod, he begins leading his hands in a slow, slightly awkward rhythm on your sides, squeezing it.

“So…do you usually…do it? You know…taking requests easily?” He jokes, trying to make the moment less weird. 

You smile at his attempt. “Not actually.” 

“Then, why are you taking mine?” He asks softly, the simplest question had you rumming. Yeah, why were you easily accepting everything? 

“I like you” you managed, looking at his beautiful dark eyes lighting up with your confession. “I mean…you're not the worst boss ever, so…”

“I'm glad to know that I'm not a bad manager.” He jokes, a soft genuine smile appears on his lips. “You're not the worst employee as well.”

“Thank you.”

The room feels smaller now, the soft sound of your breathing mingling with Alex. His hand holds yours firmly, but there’s a gentleness to his grip.

“Didn't know 10 minutes felt this long.” You stammered, giggling awkwardly. 

“It's not mandatory.” He sighed. “We always can stop. This game is really stupid.”

“No.” You blurt, gripping your hand on his shoulders. “It's a challenge and…we wanted to get wild, right? We don't wanna give up right when things are getting interesting.”

Alex stares at you for a moment, his hand takes a step further and touches your hair, stroking for a bit. You hummed, leaning for more. He licked his lips as the other hand drove to the back of your back, pulling you closer.  

His eyes glance down at your lips and they linger there for a moment before he speaks."You're a very, very, attractive employee, you know that?”

“This was the worst compliment I've ever heard.” You giggled and he threw his head, laughing as well. “No, really. It looks like a porn plot.”

“Fuck, you're right.” He concurs, lifting his head. “I think working here changes us, you know? All I can think is… hey, sexy employee. Come help your boss.”

“You already did it, you know?” You lit, your arms rest around his shoulders. “My next step is coming to your office and suddenly saying I'm trapped.”

“No, that's another movie.” He teased, snorting. His hand came back for your waist, gripping as the other caressed your back. “In this movie, I say I have a big promotion for my best employee.”

“Yeah, and I’d say… Boss, I would do anything for this job.” You cooed, feigning a sexy porn actress voice, pouting. 

He smiles as he raises a hand and gently brushes a strand of hair away from your face with his fingers. “You're very beautiful, you know that?” 

You blush, smiling. “You mean it or it's the acting?”

“No… it's for real.” He tells gently, brushing his thumb on your cheek. “You're really beautiful.” 

“You're very handsome, Alex. Just for the record.” You tease, giddy. 

His cheeks grow a soft pink as he smiles and lets out another chuckle. "Yeah? Is that all I am?”

“No, you're also very talented at making me wash the bathroom.” You laugh. He grins, shaking his head a little while his hand gently brushes against the side of your cheek.

"Of course that's what I do best. I'm the master at making you wash the bathroom.” He lets his hand linger a second more before he takes a breath in and sighs. "But honestly? I have a different talent that I'm incredibly better at than making you wash the bathroom.”

“Oh, yeah? What is it?” You continue, hope visible in your eyes as you take a step closer. 

He takes one more step forward, completely closing the gap in between you, so now his body is pressing against yours. “Ordering you to clean all the store, don't pretend you didn't see the dust.” Alex teased, pushing back as you crossed your arms giggling with him. Alex used the rank again. Lovely. You cleaned up at the end, you really needed the job. And…well… you knew he would reward you, sexually or not. He was still hard by playing sex adventures and would call you for help. He always does.  

[mmmerimari]

coping!reader - test drive

He didn’t call it a date. Didn’t come to her door either. Just sent a lazy “here” text and leaned against his truck, arms crossed and head down like he was doing time. No flowers. No plan. Just the implication that she should be flattered he showed up at all.

She came anyway. Slid into the passenger seat with a too-large cardigan tugged around her arms, her bangs freshly trimmed and curled. Yellow ribbons on her sneakers. A little strawberry lip gloss.

“Hi,” she said. Not too cheerful. Performed casual.

Rafe glanced at her once. “You always dress like a crayon box or is this special for me?”

She smiled, slow and soft. “You're lucky I didn't wear the banana earrings.”

He didn’t laugh. Just shook his head, pulled out of the lot without saying where they were going. Some old rap station crackled low on the speakers, mostly static. She didn’t ask him to change it.

They ended up parked in front of the marina. Not by the yachts. Down where the dock was rotting and the tide smelled like algae and salt rot. Somewhere no one would bother them. Or see them.

There was a convenience store bag in the backseat. He threw it in her lap without ceremony.

“I got snacks.”

She peered inside. Gummy worms. A flat soda. A melted Hershey bar. “Wow,” she deadpanned, “someone’s aiming for a Michelin star.”

“Didn’t realize you were a bitch about candy.”

She pulled out the Dr. Pepper and cracked it open. “You look like someone who’s never had to buy their own groceries.”

He smirked, leaning back. “You think that’s an insult?”

That earned a snort. She sipped the drink, wrinkling her nose at how warm it was, but didn’t complain. He watched her from the side, pretending not to.

Her phone buzzed in her lap. She didn’t look at it. Just picked at the label on the soda can until it peeled into strips.

“You always this quiet?” he asked, finally.

“No.”

His mouth twitched. “That was a quick answer.”

She shrugged. “It's a simple question.”

It wasn’t though. Not really. Her gaze landed on the water in front of them.

“You know most girls would kill to be here right now.”

Y/n just hummed. Noncommittal.

“Christ, you’re weird. You remind me of Sarah,” he said eventually.

“I should hope not.”

“I mean,” He gestured vaguely. “You pretend you’re shy, but I’ve seen the way you talk to people. You like the attention.”

“Sure,” she said. “Everyone does.”

“No,” he said, cutting her off like she was stupid. “Girls like you, the yellow shoes, baby voice, ‘I’m-so-nice’ complex, you live for it. You want everyone to think you’re harmless so no one calls you out when you’re full of shit.”

She turned to look at him, calm and unimpressed. “What's so wrong with that?”

“It’s pathetic.”

“Mm.” She blinked once. Tilted her head. "Or maybe it’s just strategic.” She smiled. Not sweet. Not even fake. Just like she already knew he wouldn’t get it.

That made him pause. Not because it hurt. But because it didn’t. She wasn’t coming for him. She was just… playing.

He cracked his knuckles, watching the marina lights flicker. “So why'd you say yes? I- I know people say things... about me and-”

“I don't care,” she said. “You seem chill.”

That made him smirk and laugh softly. Chill. Sure.

He studied her now. Really studied her. Bangs a little uneven. Collarbone freckled. The kind of pretty that didn’t beg to be seen but still made people look twice.

She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs and tucking one hand under her thigh. “I do like fun,” she said lightly, “and you seem... entertaining.”

There was a little shimmer on her eyelids, glitter probably, that sparkled when the sunset got low enough.

“You don’t know me,” he said.

“I know enough.”

“No, you think you know.”

She shook her head softly. “I don't think it's that complicated.”

Rafe stared, her smile grew.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “You’re insufferable.”

She hummed and turned to the window, resting her chin on her palm, staring out at the half-lit dock like it was somewhere worth being.

He didn’t move. Just sat there next to her, quiet. The radio kept crackling and she started mouthing the lyrics to something old, offbeat. Her lips were pink and sticky and smiling in the corners like she knew he was watching. She liked being watched when she pretended she didn’t notice.

Eventually, he leaned back, adjusting the seat. “You wanna go do something, or just sit here and waste time all night?”

She smiled again, warm this time, and nodded.

"Can I drive?"

if you're interested: readers

[sinkovia]

Fluff idea!!!!!!

Hear me out:

Reader adopts two cats, Price has to deal with them :3

I jus think it'll be fun

I THINK PRICE WOULD HAVE SO MUCH BEEF WITH THE CATS LMAO. Only at first though, I feel like he would slowly start warming up to them after realizing they could be sweet and not act like giant New York street rats.

As you enter the pet store to grab some bird feed for your front porch hummingbird feeders, you find yourself drawn to the area near the adoption center. You heard the sound of soft mewing as you approached, and two feline faces peered out from a cage, their eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and wariness.

Reading the tag, you discovered that they were a girl and boy duo who had just arrived at the store yesterday. Found in a box outside, they looked a bit worse for wear, and the tag mentioned that they were the last ones left for adoption. Unable to resist the pull of compassion, you decided to get a closer look.

One of the cats, the more adventurous of the two, cautiously approached. You extended your hand through the bars, and the cat sniffed it curiously before rubbing the top of its head against your palm. A wave of affection swept over you as you felt the soft fur under your fingers.

The two kitties had tugged at your heartstrings, and you knew you couldn't leave them behind. Your excitement grew, and with a sense of purpose, you started looking for a store worker to inquire about the adoption process. The idea of providing a loving home for them made your trip to the pet store even more fulfilling than you had anticipated.

The front door creaked open, and you slipped inside with a cardboard box cradled carefully in your arms. John, engrossed in something on the TV, glanced your way as he heard the door but didn't pay it much mind until he saw you with the box.

"What's in the box?" curiosity etched on his face.

"Nothing," you replied with a sly smile, but just as you spoke, a soft meow emanated from the box. John raised an eyebrow, immediately skeptical.

"No, you didn't," he declared with a knowing look as the meows continued. You winced slightly, rubbing your stomach, and with a dramatic expression, "Ooo wow, must have been that food I ate earlier. I'm so gassy,"

The meows persisted, growing louder, and you paused. Caught in the act, you couldn't suppress your smile. John just shook his head, laughing at your attempt at secrecy. You kneeled down, letting them out of the box. They slowly peeked their heads out one after the other.

“You got two? love.” You quickly picked one up, holding him up in front of John’s face.

“Look how cute they are hun. This one is Chucky and that one is Tiff. It’s short for Tiffany.” He smiled seeing how excited you were.

As days passed, John's initial amusement turned into exasperation when he found himself facing the challenges that came with the new additions to the family. The first encounter was during a flea bath. Attempting to help, he found himself in a comical struggle as Chucky scratched him when he wriggled in his arms.

"You bloody spawn of the devil!" John exclaimed as he ran up his arm and scratched down his back. Losing his balance, he stumbled foward, ending up in the tub, now covered in cat hair.

You quickly put Tiff down, “Oh my god are you okay?” you helped him out of the tub and left to get a towel. He huffed, glaring at Chucky lick his paw on the bathroom counter as if nothing happened.

Nighttime snuggling became a distant memory as the cats took their positions on either side of you, leaving no room for John to join in. He would glare at them as they slept peacefully, snuggled and warm next to you, and all he could do was shake his head, muttering about "bloody spawns of the devil."

The next morning, as John stood in the kitchen, pouring coffee into a mug, he saw Chucky eyeing him from the counter. He scowled at him.

"You're like a rat, you know that?" he muttered, shooting a glare at him. "You think you can snuggle up next to my wife and kick me to the curb? You're a little devil spawn."

Your head peeked into the kitchen, eyebrows raised. "Did you say something?"

John casually took a step back from the cat, "No, love. Nothing at all." when you left he took a sip of his coffee glaring at Chucky who just slowly blinked at him.

One afternoon, during John's focused work, the duo darted through the house, leaving chaos in their wake as they knocked over his coffee mug. While John sighed in frustration, you got up chasing after them. Catching one of the troublemakers, you held him up to John's face.

"I'm sorry for spilling coffee on your paperwork, I promise it won't happen again," you voiced the imaginary apology on behalf of Chucky. John initially wore an unamused expression until you peeked your head from behind the feline, revealing an apologetic smile. The tension melted, and a reluctant grin spread across John's face.

In the days that followed, the cats, undeterred by John's attempts to shoo them away, found his legs to be irresistible scratching posts. Persistent and curious, they continued their mischief, extending their claws despite John's efforts to maintain a sense of composure.

On one particular night, as John lay on his back, Tiff decided to make herself comfortable. She stretched luxuriously before gracefully climbing onto his chest, kneading his stomach with her paws. After a few rounds of kneading, she curled into a ball, settling on his chest. John huffed out a sigh, feeling the weight of the feline on him. Her large, puffy tail occasionally swiped across his nose, prompting him to turn his head to the side. However, her tail still managed to find its way toward him, eliciting a sneeze or two and a touch of irritation to the otherwise peaceful night.

John couldn't deny the joy the cats brought to the household. John found himself growing attached to the mischievous pair. The initial resistance transformed into reluctant acceptance, and before long, he was reaching for them to scratch behind their ears and indulging them in their nightly cuddle sessions. The stray cats had not only found a home but had also carved out a special place in John's heart.

╭∩╮( •̀_•́ )╭∩╮ << Price to Chucky when reader isn't looking.

[glassrowboat]

Cinderella. Pantalone.

Summary: You didn't mean to be stranded out on the steps to the palace with a broken shoe, but some things are more like a fairy tale than one would think. It's only a shame your prince charming is a fucking dick.

Warnings: an exuberant amount of cussing, mentions of death, and the upperclass

Word count: 2500+

The sound of shoes clacking on the pavement was the first sign you were no longer as alone as once thought. A solid click, the pristine shine of black leather, and a silver buckle that somehow shined even in the cold night air when the brightest light near you was a streetlamp at most ten feet away. The fact there wasn't a very particular someone's insignia ingrained in that black already felt like a miracle given the man's pride. He did so love to adorn himself in finery.

“Regrator.”

“Miss, a pleasure as always.” He didn't even pretend to not notice your current state, his eyes might as well be full of mirth as he gazed down at you sitting on the steps leading up to a cursed banquet you had to attend. The event was already in full swing, yet here you sat outside as if the clamor of voices and music playing couldn't be heard. “I hope you have not gotten yourself into another problem.”

Teasing now, of all times, really?

It was already fully evident he knew what was going on. How could he not? A shoe in your hand, and a broken off heel in the other, made it clear there was, in fact, a problem. The contraption had wronged her. “I think it's rather obvious, is it not? Or do you need a new prescription for those glasses of yours?”

He didn't even bother to give an interesting reply back as he simply laughed off the jab like it was water on a ducks back. Something that wasn't event relevant enough to be addressed. “I see now. That does appear to be a problem.”

Wow. I had no fucking clue.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance to you?” His voice was musing as ever, too gentle to be real. Just the same way he acts in the middle of a business deal.

“Oh?” You looked up at him, eyes tearing off those shiny shoes you were admittedly jealous of in this moment. Any other day, you might just consider spitting on them, but circumstances have changed. “Tell me trousers, for amusements sake only, what could you possibly do to help me in this hour of need? Maybe you'd do the same thing Scaramouche did as he passed me by only minutes prior, telling me to walk barefoot in the snow.”

“Oh my, it would be a mad man who would dare try.” At least he understood that compared to the puppe- “Back to calling me trousers now, miss? I thought we grew past that.”

“Maybe you did.” If only the poison on your tongue was enough to sway him enough to slip off a step and fall past the railing with a nice, satisfying kurplunk. “Well seeing as my night is perfectly ruined, how has yours been going?”

"Oh, not too bad myself, I must say." Pantalone's voice was calm and smooth as usual, as if nothing really affected him much. "I've been attending to a few important matters as part of my responsibilities, but now I have some free time to spend. I suppose I may have found something to do with it now."

How annoyingly easy it was for him to lie, to show no tell at all. No pinch in the eyebrow, no change in tone, not even looking else where to avoid eye contact. Truly a professional. If it weren't for the fact you had personally seen Pantalone repeatedly having to brush off the same man with a rather boring sounding business proposal, you would have truly believed him. His irritation had been clear then even as that smile remained. What a talent to have, to lie easier than he breathed.

Slowly, steadily Pantalone made his was down the stairs you sat upon until he was stood before you. A kind face to be shown as he looked down at the object of your plight. “It's a rather pretty pair of shoes. A pity one of them has been torn apart. Do you think we can find you another pair in a store nearby?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I'll pass.”

It would be a fool who agrees to be in debt to the regrator, a favor or otherwise.

One of his perfectly manicured eyebrows rose as he looked down at you, almost like he was shocked at the rejection of his offer. The amusement, however, was clear in his face. "Is something the matter? It would be unfortunate to stay here barefoot in the cold. Though I can't say I didn't expect that answer. You are quite the character.”

“Says you. How great a character you are that your very own name is ripped from a play.”

You weren't even honored with a reply. You never are. 

“Do you live nearby, miss?”

“Yeah. Maybe like ten minutes down that street,” you pointed to the left, finger blocking one of the many piles of snow on the street. “Then you- Close. I'm close by.”

Why the fuck was I telling him this?

“I see.” 

With the wave of a hand covered in what had to be the finest of fabrics for gloves (probably something that's been hand spun by poor widows for years as they labor over raw cotton) and glittering silver Pantalone called over an attendant. Her short frame quickly moved over like she felt the need to be as efficient as possible. As to why? Well, the answer is obvious. You don't defy a harbinger. You don't deny them. You can only hope to please the overhyped power houses of Snezhaya, especially if one of them is your boss. 

“You are far too easy to easy to read.” Without so much as a glance towards this woman's way, he takes something from her hand. A little bottle of sorts you can't read the label of with a red cap. That is until he moves his bejeweled fingers away to give you a chance to peek at the words printed out. “One day your pride will be the end of you.”

And I hope your end will be just as pathetic as you.

Huffing you try and ignore the savior that he's holding in his hand. Shoe glue, just what you need. “Why do you even have that?”

Not even bothering to address you, Pantalone tells the attendant she's excused. The same rush as when she ran over, showing as she bowed to you both. “Lord harbinger. Miss.” 

And there she goes.

“Cmon slacks, gimme something I can reply to that isn't your typical droning. Otherwise, I might just start mistaking your voice for those inside.” The same chatter that might as well be ringing on your ear as it grows louder and louder throughout the night. Alcohol may loosen lips, but it also apparently makes everyone too deaf to hear properly. If either of you were to go back inside, surely you'd be cringing every time someone walks by as they think it's a great idea to address someone all the way across the great hall.

“I bore you as much as ever then.” With a chuckle, Pantalone holds the bottle out before you, dangling it like bait on a string, and you were the fish he was waiting for to take a bite. Warning label flashing your vision. “I could tell you how La Signora once broke her heel and simply combusted with fury. Though that wouldn't be true, she wouldn't be caught dead wearing something cheap enough to break just like that.”

He always has to have a smart reply, doesn't he? All the while you're running low on quips as this guy proves his default setting is exhausting everyone around him. The charming man one might mistake him as with a simple glance was truly such a farce. “Thanks, but I'd rather rip the boots off of some poor, unsuspecting sod than let you do something for me.”

With a click of his tongue, Pantalone pulls the bottle back away from you, the shining light of hope that it was being stolen like the donations from an alms box under the nose of a priest. “Ahh yes, the fear of owing the ninth harbinger. It is a daunting cloud to loom so heavily.”

Of course it was. He may sound and look as pretty as a picture, but under those silver spectacles were eyes that could only be satisfied with the sight of mora in his palm. Those that denied him such a sight had a habit of going home to a few broken objects, being randomly beaten down out of the blue on their merry way back home, and lastly disappearing in the same way your clouds of breath blown out into the cold air of the blizzard covered nation did. There was no god to pray to that could help escape him, no matter which archons name uttered.

“How about I offer you a deal,” Pantalone asked, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smirk. It was as if the very mention of any sort of ‘business’ had him rearing to go. Cocky bastard.

It's just a shame you had nothing to say. Another comment would have this back and forth going until either a: you get interrupted by one of the guests, b: he decides toying with you has lost its charm (an unlikely event but still one can dream), and lastly c: you bite the bullet and make a ten minute walk home in a broken shoe through snowy and icy streets you'd surely be slipping and sliding over. A face plant or two might just be worth it, though.

“No objections then. As for our deal, I shall assist this damsel in distress with fixing her shoe, and in turn, you tell no one of this.” As if he was already certain you'd agree in a heartbeat, probably in his minds even with stars glittering around you like a scene from a shojo manga panel, Pantalone plucked the broken shoe and heel from your hands. “I'd say you would be getting the better end of the deal here tonight. You do need to get home, don't you?”

I do, and he knows that. Prick.

 “Fine. Deal or whatever.”

The fact that he didn't immediately pull out a five page contract on the spot was disappointing. Unlikely, but the thought alone would be enough to cause you to laugh if it was anyone else's presence you were in. Instead, you sat back on those concrete stairs, watching as the regrator of all people slipped off his rings and placed them to the side. Doesn't want his precious getting dirty then, huh?

“So what's the real reason you have that stuff on you?”

“You truly do believe every word that slips past my lips is a lie,” He stated. Stated, not questioned. “I have found myself working in collaboration with a cobbler recently, and I was given this as a free sample of sorts. You were simply lucky with the timing, is all.”

Your eyes narrowed as you looked down at him, his gloved hand holding that stupid little bottle in hand as he seemed to run over the nails that were supposed to keep the outsole together with ease. He seemed so calm doing this, but it could all just be another facade, another act. Only he, himself, and Pantalone knew what was truly going on in that pretty head of his. “I wouldn't call breaking my shoe luck.”

“Perhaps not.” 

“I never asked, just how did that attendant magically have that on hand with a wave of your- well hand.” That could have been worded a bit better. Cmon self, you're slacking here.

“Oh that? I heard of your little plight when I was inside. A noble lady with a mole over her lip, the left side, mentioned a poor lasy by your name having tripped over her own two feet like a buffoon who then,” without missing a beat as he spoke Pantalone kneeled before you, “ran off as if a headless chicken.” 

“Lovely imagery, slacks. Thank you for that.”

“I am merely repeating what I have heard for you. I wouldn't want you to go unaware of what your fellow ladies have been gossiping about this night.”

In doing so, you purposefully worded it in a way that had the intent to embarrass me. I'm not blind nor deaf but somehow, he surely thinks I am both.

“Now then.” Easily, he pulled you from your thoughts. Daydreaming cast aside and asunder as his hand wrapped around your ankle. The instant jolt from the movement you were spurred into, meaning little as his grip tightened, not even allowing an inch of freedom. “Give the heel some time before you start walking on it. We don't need to disturb the banquet with your dramatics again.”

A part of you wanted to believe Pantalone's hand didn't feel warm because they're just as cold and dead as his heart, but the gloves he dawned and the thermal stockings you used religiously in this winter inferno were enough to say you were just being hopeful. It was better to focus on that little fact than how he was sliding that stiletto on for you. The fact he wasn't looking at your eyes could either be a blessing or make this all worse. At the very least, it gave you a chance to figure out that blaming the color burning your cheeks a rosy hue on the low temperatures could be a solid enough lie he wouldn't openly question your bull. 

“Now if you'll excuse me,” Pantalone said, calling your attention back up to his face and not the hand that had just let go of you. “It's about time I head back inside.”

Somehow, there wasn't even a speck of dust on his knees as Pantalone stands back up, his perfect little demeanor the same as always without even a wrinkle to be had. Untouchable. Far off from everyone else around him. “I'm sure the Tsarita's little socialite has been missed.”

With a small laugh and a “precisely,” Pantalone steps around you, those same perfect condition having shoes of his hitting the steps with a satisfying click as he walked away. At least this time, you weren't gazing upon them with envy. “Remember now, miss, no going around gossiping about this.”

As if I'd ever.

“The less your name falls from my lips, the better. You do so tend to leave a narly aftertaste. Plus, I have no intention of owing you anything.”

With one last flick of his gaze, one last shine of those spectacles under the streetlamp, he looks at you. How unreadable that mask could be when he truly wished it. Maybe it's true what they say: once you wear a mask too long, it becomes your face. 

“Have a good night then.”

And with that, he left. The night air your only company.

Good riddance.

Except now your looking down at a pink box that had been delivered to your house this morning, only a day having gone by since that unlucky encounter with the regrator yet he chose to rub this all in your face. A stink bug of a man, truly. Only there to be a pest that's always somehow present, yet you shouldn't bother to do away with. After all, there would be consequences. 

So, like any bug, he crawled through the cracks of what is supposed to be your home. All with the ease of one delivery man and a letter with the most beautiful handwriting you had ever seen (and annoyingly written in what had to be scented ink). “I believe this means you now owe me a favor.” Signed Pantalone.

How you wanted to spit on the brand new pair of heels before you.

What a dick.

[augiewrites]

“scott street” - richie jerimovich

summary: y/n is back in chicago for the first time in years and reunites with an old flame (inspired by phoebe bridgers’ scott street)

pairing: richie jerimovich x reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, grief, family/parental death, the usual warnings that come along with the bear

a/n: i love emotionally unintelligent men

Y/N was never good at making decisions. Big, life changing decisions? No big deal. Abandon everything they know to move across the country for college? Didn’t even think twice. Their last living family member was not-so alive anymore and left a massive mess behind with no one to clean it up? The U-Haul was packed before the week was over.

The cooler of soft drinks in front of them right now? Y/N had been staring at the frosted doors for well over five minutes, periodically opening the doors but taking nothing out.

“Y/N?”

Holy shit, he grew up.

“Carmy?” Y/N smiled at the young man, pulling him into a brief embrace, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I could, uh, ask you the same,” Carmy smirked.

“I’m taking care of Ma’s old building.”

Carmy’s brows knitted together, “Right—I’m sorry about your mom, by the way. Shame.”

“Yeah,” Y/N shuffled their feet, “you avoiding the question?”

“Maybe,” he smirked, “I took over the Beef. Been back in town for a few weeks.”

“Oh? How’s that going for you?”

Another smirk. “It’s not, really.”

“Wow, look at us,” Y/N knocked his shoulder with theirs, “both said we’d never come back and here we are…dealing with a couple steaming piles of shit.”

He let out a breath that slightly resembled a laugh, “Yeah—listen, you should come by for family tomorrow afternoon. Take a look at the pile for yourself.”

“Oh, Carmy, I don’t know—”

“I’ll make sure he stays in line.”

“We both know that’s not possible, Bear.”

“Still, everyone would love seeing you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Carmy opened the cooler and wordlessly pressed a Diet Coke in their hand before walking out of the store.

It took everything in them to not cry.

_________________________________________

Y/N knew it was a bad idea, but the next day they found themselves standing outside the Beef, willing themselves to go in.

They scoffed and opened the door.

Pussy, they chastised themself.

The restaurant was pure chaos, and Y/N stood there for a moment, completely unnoticed and taking it all in. They would be lying to themselves if they said they didn’t miss the mayhem.

Unsurprisingly, Richie was the first to notice them—he had a habit of doing that.

“Yo, what the hell?”

Y/N was barely able to get a word out as they were suddenly flanked by Tina and Ebra, who were simultaneously saying how good it was to see them and chastising them for being gone so long with so little communication.

It was Carmy that intervened, gently pulling Y/N away with a small laugh and saying, “okay, guys, let ‘em breathe.”

Richie was frozen in his spot behind the counter, feeling like he just saw a ghost.

Which, in a way, he did. It had been years since he saw Y/N, and no matter how much he tried forgetting about them, they haunted his thoughts. They had been high school sweethearts, and even though things didn’t end well between them he couldn’t help but still care deeply for them.

First loves were like that.

Y/N’s mind was on overdrive as Carmy walked them around and introduced them to the new faces working in the kitchen. Richie was being too quiet. Usually when he was avoiding a topic he didn’t like, he talked about everything else under the sun. Richie being quiet was dangerous territory.

They were pulled out of their thoughts once Tina slammed a large pot in the center of the larger tables in the dining area and yelled, “Family!”

Y/N took a seat between Tina and Fak, and was for once thankful for the man’s dedication to rambling. He was currently going on about how he should come inspect the building they were now the owner of, despite the building already having been cleared by state inspectors and having a fully staffed maintenance team.

“I wouldn’t waste my time if I were you, Fak,” Richie broke in, “it’s only a matter of time before they leave and make that place someone else’s problem. Right, Y/N?”

Y/N didn’t have it in them to fight back, even though they knew that was what the man wanted. They were too tired.

“That’s what you do best, huh, Y/N? Run away from all your problems and leave everyone else to pick up the pieces?”

Carmy sent Richie a warning glare, “Cousin.”

“No, Cousin,” funny how Richie can manage to make a term of endearment sound like an insult, “you had no right inviting them here.”

“I have just as much a right to be here as you do,” Y/N glared at Richie.

“That’s a load of shit, and you know it, toots.”

That was all it took for a screaming match to break out between the former lovers. Their voices drowned each other out, and all Carmy could make out was a slew of insulting names, curse words, and years of unpacked baggage.

He let them go at it for a couple of minutes before he dragged Richie out the front door with a cry of “enough!”

Y/N could hear the two men arguing outside from their place at the table before deciding that they’d had enough. They muttered a lame “excuse me” before moving through the kitchen to the back alley, their face heating up in embarrassment. It was nothing that most of the Beef’s staff hadn’t seen before, but Y/N could feel themselves reverting to a version of themself that they hadn’t been for a long time—they couldn’t help the embarrassment that came along with it.

They were halfway through their second cigarette when they heard the back door open and a familiar pair of track pants entered their field of vision.

“I got you those over a decade ago,” they exhaled the smoke and pressed their lighter into Richie’s outstretched hand, “isn’t it about time you get some new clothes?”

Richie kicked his leg around, inspecting the pants, “Ain’t nothing wrong with ‘em. Why get rid of something that works?”

“Big words coming from you.”

He met their half-assed glare with a furrowed look, “you were the one that left.”

“Not before you ended it.”

“We would’ve gotten back together. Always did,” a scoff, “You left.”

“And you moved on, had a kid—seems like things worked out.”

“Toots, if this is things working out, I don’t wanna know what it would have been like if they hadn’t.”

Y/N needed to change the subject before the tension killed them.

“How’s your girl doing, anyway?”

Richie grinned at Y/N, “Ev’s doing real good. Loving her new gymnastics class. Just turned nine last month.”

“Shit, that makes me feel old.”

“Well, what does that make me?” Richie asked with a rough laugh.

“Fucking ancient.”

Another laugh. Maybe things would be different between them this time.

“You in town for good, then?

“Yeah, I think so. Got a good thing going. Think I might start renovating some of the units in the apartment next year.”

“Hmm, sure,” Richie muttered absentmindedly around his cigarette.

Y/N decided it was better to not say anything.

Richie finished off his cigarette, tossing it in the general direction of a makeshift ashtray.

He made to walk back to the back door before turning and offering Y/N his hand, helping them pull themselves off the ground. He wiped his hands off on his track pants before finally going to move away.

“Anyway,” he gave them one last look before turning around and walking away, “don’t be a stranger.”

~~~

part two

[randooffthestreet]

(Inofficial) Ghoaptober

Day 24: Wish

Summary: Ghost buys flowers for Soap

Going to a pub or a bar was a regular enough occurrence that the 141 had a little bit of a system. Price was the designated driver, so he’d nurse one drink for an hour or so before cutting himself off. Gaz and Soap drank enough to cause Ghost to get a sympathy headache, and Ghost himself would have a drink or two. Of course, he was never allowed to drive since Soap wouldn’t let him hear the end of what had happened in Las Almas.

If one or both of the sergeants got clingy, they wouldn’t bring it up in the morning.

“Ghost….Lt.” Soap whined, leaning against the brick wall of a man fearlessly. “Y’know I've never gotten flowers before? Have nae seen many flowers since I was a bairn.” Ghost sighed heavily. “That so?

The Scot nodded, taking a sip of his final drink. (Price had cut him off) “Dunnae why… Maybe cuz ah’m a big lad? Maybe…cuz they think ah would nae like em. But ah do! Love flowers.” He set his drink down. “It’s mah birthday end o’ this month. Prob’ly will nae get any flowers this year either, ye ken.”

Ghost just hummed. He’d known about his upcoming birthday, Gaz having already planned an outing to a pub that evening. He’d bought him a new sketchbook and nice pencils after learning about his affinity for drawing.

Soap groaned, his stomach lurching slightly. Ghost hissed, scooting away from him. “Don’t you dare throw up on me.” Soap laughed, wincing. “Ah won’t. Ye- ye ken, my ma had a flower garden. Before we grew apart, I used to help her tend to em. Loved the roses. They were mah favorite. Cliche, I ken.” He sniffled. “Miss em. Hell, miss me ma.”

Ghost sighed, hooking his arm over his shoulder. “You’re drunk, Soap. We should get you home.” The man groaned, but didn’t protest.

The day before Soap’s birthday, Ghost found himself thinking about that conversation. Sure, Soap had been drunk, but he also tended to be a bit more honest when he was drunk. Ghost found himself looking for stores near the pub that sold flowers.

When he found one, he just stared at the bouquets for a solid ten minutes before an employee came over. “Need help, sir?” She asked him, smiling a little wearily. He hummed. “...don’t know flowers.” He said in lieu of an answer. She looked through them. “Well, who are you looking for?”

He thought for a moment. “Friend’s birthday. He likes roses.” She nodded, before pointing out a pretty looking bouquet. “This one has roses and sunflowers. Does he like those?”

Ghost didn’t know, but from what little he did know about flowers, he knew that sunflowers would turn towards the sun, yearning for any bit of light from its rays.

They reminded him of how he acted around Johnny, always looking for his next fix of his sunshine’s attention.

He nodded. “That’ll do.” He picked it up and bought it, praying to whatever being that may exist that Soap would like them. They smelled pleasant enough, at least.

When he walked into the pub, the others hadn’t arrived yet. He’d already texted Gaz that he’d be coming separately, and would save them a table.

He tucked the bouquet in the booth seat next to him nervously when he saw them enter. Gaz ordered them a round and a cake, crowing at the uninterested waiter that it was his friend’s birthday just to piss Soap off.

Price got Soap a nice bottle of Scotch, and Gaz had laughed when he saw it because he’d gotten him the same thing. Soap didn’t mind, just grinned. “I get two bottles of the good stuff, why would I be mad?

Ghost gave him the sketchbook and pencils a bit nervously, but his nerves were soothed when his face lit up. “Oh wow! These are good supplies.” He grinned. Ghost touched the bouquet next to him lightly, having second thoughts, before sucking it up and handing them to him.

The table fell quiet, and Soap looked at him with wide eyes

“For me?” He asked softly, holding them so gently they could be made of glass. Ghost nodded, feeling really dumb all of a sudden. He felt a weight lift from his chest when Soap beamed at him.

“You remembered! Christ, this is too muchI was so sloshed when I said I wanted flowers, but… thanks. They’re beautiful. And- and they’re roses… like I said…” Soap was smiling so widely it made Ghost’s heart hurt.

“I love them, Lt.” Ghost had to fight back the disappointment that came with the title. It was his sergeant’s birthday, not his boyfriend’s.

Gaz and Price settled down a little upon hearing Soap had asked for flowers specifically, though Price did shoot Ghost a knowing look.

The rest of the time was business as usual, drinking and laughing with friends until they inevitably got drunk and had to go home when the bartenders cut them off.

Ghost walked Soap back to his room. The other man was so drunk he was just mumbling under his breath.

As Ghost eased him into his bed, the Scot spoke up. “Thanks for the flowers, Lt, Really like em. Specially from ye.” He smiled before knocking out. Ghost stood there for a few minutes before sighing quietly to himself and placing the bouquet on the nightstand next to Soap.

For the rest of the week, Soap was in a significantly good mood. Watching him interact with the recruits, Ghost found himself smiling softly. If a simple bouquet of flowers made him so happy that he was beaming every day, then Ghost would give him all the flowers his heart desired.

And the gestures would never lose their meaning; no, Ghost would put just as much thought and heart into every one, just like he did the first time.

In any universe, he would give him flowers just to see him smile.

From a church altar to a gravestone.

The sunflower and his rose.

[tiramissyoucake]

No title sorry bout that lol Satoru Gojo x Reader, mainly fluff, reader lovingly bullies gojo, gojo is whipped, 800+ Words

CW: none, fluff head to toe, can't spell 'Satoru' without 'Sato' (sugar) gehehehehehehehe dies, little proof reading

Notes: I had a long day and I was book shopping and I realised "ah, gojo would buy shit for his gf just because he remembered her" so here we are, I'm not good at writing fluff plz bare wit me, I'm trying out a new divider plz tell me if it looks good or bad :')

A book slid across the soft surface of the table to you, you put down your mug and examined the cover then looked up towards your white haired boyfriend who's face looked like he was expecting you to jump into his arms and express gratitude.

"What's this?" Satoru's expression fell at your words. He sat up and gestured to the book as if that would make you understand. "The book you were talking about, remember? When we had coffee in that new place?"

Wow, he remembered? You couldn't help but smile, that conversation was weeks ago and he still remembered, during then you passively mentioned the book's title, you merely brought it up saying your friends were all reading it and talking about it but you weren't going to pick it up anytime soon (for the sake of your TBR list, you can't..)

"And you waited until now because...?" You picked up the book as you spoke, fingers flipping through the freshly printed pages and examining the font size and spacing of the words. Satoru snorted, "waited? I've been looking for it everywhere!" He folded his arms over his chest as irritation took over his features."Everywhere I checked, it was sold out!"

"Seriously? You ran around stores for me?" You teased, and he pouted, scooting his chair closer to you. "Of course~ when my love asks for something, I race to get it!"

"Satoru, that's nice, but.." You set the book down. "I didn't ask for–"

"Shhhh, you can show me your devoted thanks later." He cut you off with a finger to your lips, acting as if he was saving your breath from praising him and his valiant efforts (of purchasing a popular book).

Continuing this would just prove to be useless, although it was a nice gesture, even if you couldn't read it now– he listened, he knew you were interested and he made the effort to purchase something with you in mind.

To say Satoru was an impulsive buyer was an understatement. He's smart with his money, and yet moments where he loses all rationality in a transaction have been frequent after establishing a relationship with you. If Satoru sees anything in a store that briefly reminds him of you, he's taking it home to you.

The best part of the whole process is seeing your reaction, even if you told him he didn't need to waste his money on you– he could see the smile twitch at the corner of your lips as you grew flushed; almost as if shy that satoru thinks of you so fondly outside of your daily interactions.

His surprises could be anything, ranging from a mug that was the right shade of your favorite color to a necklace he thought would look good on you, it makes him even happier when he sees you use said gift in any mundane activity.

"This is really sweet of you, baby, thank you." You replied and kissed his cheek, Satoru hummed through a smile happily, accepting your affections. You reached for your mug– the mug he bought you because he knew you'd love the cartoon cat on it.

"So where'd you find it?" He waved off your question."It doesn't matter. What matters is that I got it before anyone else could, and capitalism loses!"

"Capitalism actually won because they got your money, so.." You quietly drank from your mug as you watched his face contort to disappointment. You restrained yourself from laughing at his pouting. How dare you belittle his victory?

"You're so mean to me! And here I bought 2 copies so we can read it together!" He announced as he showed his copy, the same book with the same cover. You set down your mug and cooed at him. "Satoru! You didn't have to do that. Honestly, are you obsessed with me?"

You uttered that sentence in a clear joking tone, but his expression hadn't changed. "Of course I am! I thought I made it pretty clear! You're literally all I think about!" Satoru proudly proclaimed and grew red in the face when you burst out laughing, your features growing flushed as well at his declaration.

"You're so lame, Satoru!" You wiped the tear away from your eye as you came down from your little giggle fit. He pouted at you once more. "What? Am I the only obsessed one here?"

"Maybe, I'm not the one who ran store to store looking for 2 copies of the same book?" His pout persisted at your retort, laying his head on your shoulder he stared up at you with a pitiful yet loving gaze, one that he would give you whenever you were being 'mean' to him.

"Okay, okay.." You turned to him and cupped both his cheeks in your hands, kissing his forehead, Satoru indulged in the closeness, feeling your scent envelope him as you leaned closely to him. He stopped you from moving your hands away just as you began doing so, keeping them on his cheeks.

"... Satoru?" You waited for him to answer but he only tipped his face towards you, you rolled your eyes unable to fight the smile off your lips as you kissed his cheeks, the tip of his nose and finally right on his soft lips. "Was that good enough compensation?"

His face reddened, and he nodded once. "Mhmm, thank you, pookie~"

[ameliamusic]

Part 5..(killing floor)

Word count:1256

Overview: we learn some about junes family. Some spicy things go down…

Tags: @loveinhereyes-flowersinherhair @chromations @classicrocknlove @starstruckfangirlsposts @itchycooparrk

Robert

His hands were shaking as he sat down on the bed next to June. She had her eyes closed as she laid down with her hands above her head and feet dangling off the edge.

Wow, she knows what she's doing. He felt a strong urge to reach out and touch her stomach. Almost giving in to the intense temptation, he came to senses. His face was burning and he knew it was red, he internally cursed himself for letting it get to him.

Distracting himself from her figure he got up and approached her closet. Trying to hide his true feelings he playfully gestured to the closet.

He was trying his hardest to not act up out of respect for her. Robert wasn't going to hangout with her once, then get lucky.

He had been raised a gentleman. But good lord he couldn't help admit she was tempting as hell.

Clearing his throat he asked,"So aren't you going to show me what you bought?"

Her closet was a huge walk in. It had the be around half the size of her room.

"Oh yeah sure I need to try some of it on anyway."

Slightly choking on his spit, he spluttered,

"Does your family take much store in the latest fashion trends? I love watching the fashion trends change. For women lately I've noticed the skirts have been a lot shorter, and more beads and jewels." June nodded.

"Yeah, that's why they are in London right now. They always take me to buy the newest stuff. They wanted me to come along today,

but I would rather hang with you. I got a few scarfs and two dresses from this new store Biba, it only opened up last month."

She bent over arching her back and throwing clothes deeper into the closet.

He could barely listen. Robert rolled his eyes wondering. Why on earth was she doing this to him?

"I've tried on one the dress my parents know about it's real cute. Right?"

June asked holding up the dress. "It sure is real cute darling, I like the belt a lot. Why don't you put it on for me darlin?" Robert asked slyly, trying to keep his cool. What did she mean by the dress her parents know about?

Before he could get to ask she said, "I had to sneak off to buy it." June reached into the closet and pulled it out, a huge drink on her face.

"My parents are kinda strict about clothing on me. I think they seriously need to lighten up. I mean the times are changing. Im hoping because they follow the trends so viciously, they might come around to it. A girl can dream."

June slightly laughed to herself.

"Anyway, I honestly I don't know why I was so attracted to this dress. I can't think of anything I could wear it to.

Maybe I just feel like being defiant or something. But I think it's just way too darling to be left in that shop window. Don't you think? Oh, Well look at that I'm a hypocrite, it's going to be sitting in my closet for god who knows how long. Oh well." 

Robert sat there on the bed looking up at her in awe. He was lost for words.

"Don't you like it?" She asked tilting her head, and holding the dress in front of her body.

"It's so beautiful, can't wait to see what you make of it. I love it." Robert's voice slightly caught in his throat.

She walked into the closet to change into the dress.

Robert exhaled, flopping backwards on the bed, a huge dopey smile grew on his face as he closed his eyes.

He had no idea how rebellious of a girl she was. She had always come off so innocent to him. The streak of defiance made him wonder what else she was hiding from him.

All the same thoughts kept racing through his head? Why can't she wear it anywhere? How come she waited so long to try it on? Did she wait to put it on just for him?

His train of thought got ripped away from him as she opened the door.

June did a twirl in front of him, then posed asking,"Opinions?"

He couldn't even respond, she looked heavenly, the dress clinged to her body perfectly. The gloss on her lips seemed to be teasing him, begging to be tasted, and devoured.

Feeling as if he was going to hyperventilate Robert tried to choke out a few words. But he failed. Instead he settled for looking helplessly up at her.

June

Robert was so adorable sitting there, red faced and flustered. He looked lost and starstruck. It seemed to be as if he was waiting for her to do something. It amused her to see him desperately trying to make words.

Deciding to end his suffering June jumped on him. The top of her thighs were resting on his. Her breast's were pressed against his chest. The heat from both of their bodies combined was almost overwhelming.

June could feel his heart racing under her as she pierced him with her eyes. Pleasure was erupting inside of her just from the intense eye contact.

Starting to wrap a blonde curl around her finger she moved her legs up either side of his.

Resisting the urge to press her lips against his she started laughing. "Maybe don't try to tell me how you feel, show me."

Robert sharply inhaled, just before June pressed her lips against his. June grabbed fistfuls of Robert's blonde curls when he grabbed her hips and pressed them down against his.

Robert's whole demeanor changed, he was now taking control. He rolled on top of her.

Following the movements of his mouth, June slipped her tongue into his warm mouth. Not realizing how out of breath she was until he pulled away, she gasped.

"I was trying so hard not to come onto you first. But you had to go on and insist on being a tease." He beamed down on her.

June felt helpless under his gaze. Biting her lip she brushed the blonde mess out of his face.

His warm breath glided over her cheeks.

June could feel a slight bulge on her thigh. God he was kinda big. Bigger than she expected at least.

Not knowing why June reached down and cupped Robert's crotch, not breaking eye contact as she did. His hips bolted off the bed in surprise. Maybe she was just curious? His eyes had been slightly lazy before, but now they were as wide as saucers. All of the color drained from his face, the strain on his jeans grew dramatically.

If she had thought he was big earlier, now she couldn't believe how absurd his size was. Deciding to try and hide all of her nervousness, she shot him a sly smile.

Robert

June lay under him with her hand on his bulge. He was basically bursting at the seams. Before she had made her bold move he was already feeling like he was going to collapse from nerves. He couldn't believe what was happening.

By now he nearly passed out because nearly all of his blood had gone straight under her touch.

Before he could say anything to her, a slam and a shout echoed from the floor below. The two of them scrambled up from the bed.

[the-crystal-one]

Nicest Kids In Town

~Chapter 6~ As Sandra gained her detention for the day, this time for her hair being...rather larger than life, she gazed out of the dirty windows in the dimly lit hallways. She never did understand why blacks were seen as 'inferior' and whites were supposedly better. Heck. She could think of a few great examples where that logic fell through, but that was neither here nor there. When she finally reached the detention room, down the hall where the 'assistant principle's' office was, she heard a rather familiar voice.

"Yes do you know where I might find her?" A smooth, animated like voice echoed against the walls. Saucy's eyes grew to the size of dinner saucers, Corny! She couldn't believe he was here...why was he here?! Her hair had been picked to perfection yet she could not shake the feeling of embarrassment she was developing. Not embarrassed of her afro, that was never the case, embarrassed because she knew it was seen as unkept so people would stare. That. That is what she was embarrassed about. She quickly ducked into the detention room, her back against the door as her chest heaved with...joy? Excitement? Fear? She couldn't pinpoint it exactly but if she had to pick, it might be all three. "Why you all shaken up Saucy?" Her big headed little brother chuckled as he grooved to the jams on the radio. She shook her head, taking her seat at the "teacher's" desk. She tapped her nail along with the instruments.

"Sandra?" The melodic voice traveled to her ears causing her head to the door, seeing...Corny. "Mr.Co- Corny." She stood up from her seat, dusting her her dress off, "What brings you here? Oh you must be looking for Amber or Tracey, they are on the other side of the-" He quickly shakes his head, "No no, I'm actually here for you. I wanted to talk to you but I couldn't wait until the show. I hope that's alright." He grabbed her hand, looking into her eyes

Sandra couldn't believe it. He actually wanted to see her. "Well I- I don't mind at all, what is it that you need from me?" The man started but in walked Link Larkin and Tracey Turnblad, having their own little conversation. "You didn't have to do that, Link." He shrugged his shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal, "Hey, no prob." He surveyed the room, watching all of the teenagers dance and jive to the tunes, "Besides, looks like a cool scene down here." Saucy decided to hold off on the conversation and slowly but surely, let go of the man in front of her, walking over to Tracey and embracing her, "Hey Trace, I'm startin' to think you like coming to see us in here." They both giggled in sync and broke the hug. The bell rang and Seaweed, with Penny right behind him, "Listen, man, you ain't gotta stop now." As he spoke, Saucy made her way back to Corny, "How about you come with us? My ma is having a little get together at the store, I don't think she'd mind." A smile grew across his face accompanied with a nod, "I'd appreciate that very much Ms.Stubbs." Corny grabbed the eldest Stubbs' hand, laying a gentle kiss on the back of it.

Apparently, as Saucy was getting her groove on with Mr.Collins, Link, Penny, and Tracey had also been invited to this funky shindig, but if anything Link was worried about their neighborhood. Penny and Tracey on the other had were elated!

"I've never been to North Avenue before," Link scratched the back of his neck nervously, "Uh, well, would it be safe?" Sandra couldn't help but chuckle at him, she wondered if he knew that's how they felt everyday. Seaweed looked over at his sister, looking Corny up and down before smirking, "San, tell cracker boy to calm down. He ain't got nothin' to worry about." Saucy walked over to the blue vest wearing boy and pat him on the shoulder, "It's all cool, y'all will be just fine."

Right next to them, Penny made her way towards Tracey, a wide grin plastered across her doll like cheeks, "Wow! Being invited places by colored people!" The black and white haired girl reciprocated her friends emotions, "It feels so hip!" They squealed in excitement while Saucy and Seaweed gave each other a look as if they were communicating to one another. The boy started, "I'm glad y'all feel that way," His sister wrapped an arm around his shoulder, "'Cause, uh, not many people do, y'all know what I'm sayin'?" She turned her head around to her peers, the people she's know since childhood. Each and everyone of them were different, her brother included, yet to white people they were one in the same.

They all lifted their heads or nodded along, a strew of, "Yeah that's right." "Mhm!" "Don't we know it"'s rang through the class room. Saucy shook her head, turning back to their caucasian counter parts as her brother began, "Heeeeeeey! I can't see why people look at me and only see the color of my face!" Saucy nodded along with him patting him on the shoulder while stepping in front of him then extending her pointer finger up to the air, "Ah yeah, and then there's those who try to help God knows, but always have to put me in my place." She slid next to her brother so they could both address the group, "But we won't ask you to be color blind," They began to shuffle along the floor, feet tapping rhythmically. Sandra didn't notice it yet, but Corny's eyes hadn't let her since she began talking, how could he? The girl was just so..enchanting, but he also knew her and her brother's word were true. "Cause if you pick up the fruit child, you're sure to fiiiind." "The blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice." Seaweed leaned his head on Saucy's shoulder in a playful manner, as if he wasn't speaking the truth, "I could say it ain't so but darlin' what's the use?"

Saucy jokingly pushed Seaweed off of her, now finally making eye contact with Corny, "The darker the chocolate, the richer the taste." She left him with a wink before returning to her sibling as the spoke together, "And that's where it's at! Now baby run and teeell that." The students behind the waved at them like church mothers do at the end of a Sunday server, "Run and tell that!" The began walking out of the class room because they knew in fact this conversation was going to take them longer than they had, "Hey, yeaaaah!" Seaweed strutted down the hallway, knowing that no one but the janitors was here. "I can't see why people disagree, Each time I tell em' what I know is true, oh no," Saucy turned around, grabbing Corny's hand, pulling him along with her as her brother broke in once again, "And if you come and se the world I'm from, I bet your heart is gonna feel it tooooo!"

Tracey began shimmying along with Seaweed while Link and Penny stood back, taking in all of the information being given to them.

Seaweed, turned to face Trace, his new found friend of many differences, yet she did not view him any different than her. "I could lie but baby, let's be bold, vanilla can be nice but if the truth be told!"

Saucy broke away from Corny, her brother embracing his sister as she addressed everyone, "Blacker the berry! The sweeter the juice!" The children began running out of the double doors, out to the "grassy" area where the bus came to pick them and Saucy began to shuffle in the grass, "I could say it ain't so but darlin', what's the use?" The Stubbs boy had made his way over to the slightly taller red haired girl, gazing up at her with a look all too familiar to Saucy, "The darker the chocolate, the richer the taste!" Saucy rolled her eyes, grabbing her brother by the collar, yanking him back towards her. Not because she disapproved of what he was doing, heck, she was on the same boat as him, but she didn't what him to get hurt, like she was fixin' to do. "And that's where it's at! Oh baby, baby, run and teeeelll that." Once again, the response was echoed amongst the teens who pranced around, right along with Saucy and Seaweed.

Finally they had arrived to the bus stop waiting patiently, still engaging in such a riveting conversation, in Sandra's opinion. From her peripheral vision, a brown skinned girl bouncing over to the two of them, the youngest Stubbs sibling. In the back ground, Amber Von Tussle could be heard yelling, "Link! Link Larkin!" Yet it was not acknowledged, not even by Link himself.

"Oh y'all this is our sister, Little Inez, say hey baby." Sandra kissed her sister on the top of her head, smoothing out her bangs then letting her go. "Mr.Collins? What are you- Hey! I know Tracey Turnblad! Good for you girl you got on the show!" Seaweed patted her on the back as Tracey pipped up, "Well you better be next!" Inez's head got a little higher as she thought about it, Saucy knew that she'd been dreaming of the day she could dance for a real audience, she just hoped she'd be there to see it.

"Ya got that right!" Seaweed broke in and ushered everyone to back up, all but Saucy moved because she knew exactly what was about to happen and she couldn't help but jump in. "You better show em' girl!" The eldest sibling got into ready stance, waiting for her sister to lead the way as the other began to form in the back of them.

"I'm tired of coverin' up all my pride!" Inez began to move in a way, not even Tracey had seen before, she was amazed! "So give me five on the black hand side!" "I got a new way of movin' and I got my own voice!" "So how can I help but to shout and rejoice!" Inez grabbed her siblings' hands, bouncing about like a rubber ball that had been shot out of a football stadium, passionately speaking, "Oh the people 'round here can barely pay their rent! Then try to make a dollar outta, fifteen cents!" The bus had pulled up and opened its doors, all of them including Link, Tracey, Penny, and Corny hopped on, intently listening to the young girl, "But we got a spirit money just can't buy, It's deep as a river and soars to the sky, to the sky!" They hadn't even taken their seats because of how excited they all were. Saucy help onto the chair back, stabling herself as she made eye-contact with suit wearing man in front of her, "Hey! I can't see the reason it can't be the kinda world where we all get our chance!"

"The time is now! So we can show 'em how, so turn the music up and let's all dance! " In this moment, Sandra took this opportunity to sit neck to Corny, her hand now on top of his and a soft grin on her face, "Cause all things are equal when it comes to love." Seaweed's hand came down on his sister's shoulder, startling her as his head came between her and the slick haired man next to her, "Well that ain't quiet true, when push comes to shove!" "The black the berry! The sweeter the juice! They say it so but darlin' what's the use. The darker the chocolate, The richer the taste!"

Seaweed grooved his way towards Penny, gyrating and shimmying in all the right ways that caught her attention. "And that's where it's at! Now baby, baby, baby, run and telllll that!" ~As the bus went through the suburban neighborhood, the scenery began to change significantly from wide houses, to tall apartment buildings that look like they have been in use for a while. Men, women, children, heck even dogs were out on the streets, dancing, singing, laughing, or just having a grand ol' time~ One by one they all filed out, some going home, some prancing to the store, others staying right there. As Seaweed hoped out of the bus, he gave Johnny some skin and began making his way to Penny Pingleton. Slowly, he took her blowpop out of her mouth, winking at her and putting a two fingered kiss on her lips as she fell back from excitement. Tracey and Link looked at one another before quickly rushing to her aide.