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honestsycrets · 1 year ago

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enfócate | tutor!miguel o'hara x reader

❛ pairing | tutor!miguel x student!reader, fake boyfriend!peter x reader

❛ type | explicit

❛ summary | jess is clear: miguel o'hara is a terrible boyfriend. he'll inevitably hurt you-- but peter has other ideas. or, you blow miguel in a library.

❛ tags | spanish tutor!miguel, bratty reader, a kiss with Peter, Miguel's jealousy, bjs, fake boyfriend!peter, slight obsessive qualities, fuck buddies, undefined relationships, fuck boy Miguel.

❛ reqs fulfilled | see here.

❛ sy's notes | the pov on this piece bothers me, it jumps between reader and Miguel. however, i did write two separate pieces for this request (a combined 25 pages vs my usual 11/12). so, i decided to meld them together to create this piece. anywho, if it bothers you, i understand! ❤️ I yoinked a lot of the Spanish from my Spanish learners textbook, hopefully, it's acceptable.

He knew he wanted you from the first day he saw you in the tea cafe.

Jess and he rarely visited the tea shop. It was settled on the edge of campus. Close to the social sciences and arts, but far from the work he did in the Genetics department. As a Ph.D. student, however, not all the work was done in the lab. Jess liked to see the different types of people that came to this tea cafe, where the chair cushions were fluffy emerald pillows and plants hovered overhead.

“Miguel? What's---”

You stood apart from the other students with their sloppy, half-cropped, or frumpy appearances, there was a particular care you took to dressing. It was the embroidered bow in your hair that drew his attention. When you left to fetch a refill of chai, he noticed the soft, frilled socks in tiny ankle boots. He just knew you would taste sweet, leering as he watched you at the drink bar. Jess glanced in your direction, the way you adorably bowed your head after the tea artist gave you your drink, and just knew. Jess looked over her shoulder.

“Not her.”

Jess’s voice was a drawn-out sigh of your name, punctuated by her fist beating the table. Miguel perked at the mention of your name. Oh, so she knew you. She was probably sick of his shit. Good, he was also sick of being used as a vibe check for the lesbians she wanted to pick up.

“Don’t you have enough side pieces?”

Miguel didn’t respond.

“She probably has a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Look who she's with.”

That finally got a response.

“You don’t know that,” he kept his eyes straight ahead. You caught him staring, wiggling your little fingers in a hello as you sat at a table. "I want her."

You sat with an incredibly frumpy, annoying photography student who once took his picture for the lab website. Could he be… his attention wavered when you pulled out a book: Español para el siglo. His lips quivered into a wildly sardonic grin. Oh no, no no. It was too easy.

“You’ll ruin her. She’s too innocent.”

He leaned in.

“Are you going to help me or not?”

“Buenas tardes,”

Two chairs and a thin desk. The small study room was more of a glorified broom closet for its students. You were lucky that there was a large window that looked out over the student union, flowers blooming up its brick siding. Bits of lush dark green ivy poked into the window’s view from the library’s tall wall. As the sun set on campus, rich orange and pink settled over the sunset on that warm Friday afternoon. At least the sight was pretty for how overwhelmingly small the space was.

It wasn’t the space that bothered you. It was your tutor.

He was big-- big big. Not just a little big, but really big. The kind of big that was on bodybuilding competitions. It made his long, blue-grey muscle shirt and grey sweats look tiny, sucked to his well-pumped muscle. The room felt a lot smaller as you looked at him, his long brown hair whipped back over his neck. His eyebrows raised on his dark forehead, arms turning one over another, a bundle of muscle.

“Ah... you're him? The man from the tea shop.”

He pulled free his sunglasses and set them down. His warm chocolate eyes glanced from the edge of your now too-short skirt to the glint of a dagger necklace that beat between your breasts. He’s staring. Why is he staring-- you finger the dagger between your thumb and index fingers, soothing yourself with the manipulation.

“Miguel.” He warmed, pulling the seat out beside him. His voice was buttery and smooth, almost like rich caramel. The lilt in his voice lightened, inviting you to take a seat by him. You should. You thought. Sit down. “Siéntate."

You stared.

"I said sit down.”

That was a bad idea. You paused, slipping the bag down from under your shoulder and onto the beige tile by the door. Miguel watched every slight movement. That’s fine. It’s natural to do that. You tugged the bottom of your skirt and took a seat beside him. Miguel pushed the chair back in, pushing your chest to the edge of the desk space. Oh-- oh boy, he was strong. Of course, he was, he was built like a--

“Bueno. Now you're settled. How can I help you?”

Do that again.

“Me? Oh! I... Jess said you could help me need to pass a test,” you murmured. The four semesters of Spanish seemed relatively easy compared to being stuffed next to this Adonis in this tiny study room. Your legs settled over your skirt, hands working over one another to will down the pulse of your wily excitement. What was wrong with you? “To pass my language requirement.”

You should have been able to do that alone but-- let’s say you weren’t the most applied to the language in your childhood. A tutor was a great alternative to embarrassment and thousands of dollars in classes. If only he didn’t look like… this. His large hand left the pasty back of your chair.

“Hm,” he paused. “¿Puedes hablar español?”

“Sí,” you murmured. “My mami was-- well, I should have listened to her.”

Hm.

You want to know what Hm means. Your leg tremored on its own accord. He swept a leather bag by his side up and pulled out a thick folder, running across several tabs. Lab notes, diet plans, pruebas.

“It happens,” he notes, sliding a page free. “Let’s see how much you know, princesa.”

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to know more, to hear the hum of Spanish bouncing off his lips. It was a world apart from your mother’s shrill screams on Saturday mornings to clean an already clean house. It held its own beauty and mystery when he spoke it. You took the page from him, setting it down on the bland tablespace by your phone, lighting up with a notification.

Jess When you meet Miguel, don’t do it.

"¿Princesa?" you asked.

"You dress like one. Don’t worry if you fail,” you plucked out a pink mechanical pencil, complete with little animated characters tightened around the wrapping. You perked at his words, choking a small smile. “I expect you to.”

Why was he like this? You took another unfortunate look at him, his large forearm plastered over the desk, making the book he had to look like peanuts in comparison. God, he was hot-- you felt comparatively hideous, drooling over a man that was out of your league. Maybe he could be your piece of eye candy this year. Your phone buzzed along the table again. Miguel’s eyes shot to it, a frown pulling at his lips.

Jess Don’t fuck him. He can’t keep his dick to himself.

He reaches over, flipping your phone down with an overworked smile sundering his expression. It’s almost fake.

“Are you…” you turned your eyes to the questions on the page. “A student?”

“Grad student,” Miguel answered. So, older than you then. “I graduated with a BA in Spanish and a BS in Genetics.”

“Oh! A dual degree?” The man couldn’t be normal. He had to do both. “Did it… take a while?”

“No, it was accelerated.”

He was unreal. There was no way this man was ordinary. It was physically impossible for the man to be that hot and successful. You scribbled across the page, nipping the back of your pencil at particularly hard questions.

“So you just do this for… a living?” you asked him.

“I teach and train clients, yes.”

“Train?”

“Gym,” Miguel set his cheek on his fist.

“I do cardio with Jess. No strength training for me.” Jess-- who suggested Miguel to you. You had some shit to bitch at her about the next time you saw her. Namely, why she didn’t warn you about Miguel. He was a boon for chaos in your life.

“I’d waste your time. I’m all marshmallow,” you pat your soft belly. “All pan dulce and burros.”

He chuckled.

“You have a beautiful body.”

And that was that. You set the pencil down on a page half full of answers, glancing toward his full lips. They were quirked into an arrogant smirk. He knew the effect he had on women. He glanced to the page, then to you, his lips growing into a smile laden with arrogance.

“Your hips--” he glanced down, “My girls couldn’t pay to get them.”

He noticed. You supposed that the miniskirt wasn’t the best choice for meeting a new man.

“Do you talk to everyone like this?”

“No. Only the ones that look at me like you did."

Oh.

If it were a game of whom ate whom up first, you had to be honest-- it may have been you. You couldn’t shoot anything back at that, angling your head down at the page guiltily. A sigh fell from his chest. His large hand came to the back of your head, cupping the thick bow on the back of your head. His fingers ran across the silk, teasing it between his fingers.

“Calm down, you’re not the first one to do it. You won't be the last,” he turned your head to look at him, large fingers combing through the strands of your hair. He chased the panic in your wide eyes, doe eyes blown wide. Your heartbeat soared into your chest, choking you there, looking for an outlet from your shame.

“Breathe for me,” he leaned in, his warm breath tingling your ear. His cologne was clean, like the lapse of the waves on the shore back home where the tropical heat was a second skin. You listened, taking a weary, deep breath in, then out again. Again.

“Go on.” His knuckles rapped on the sheet. Miguel’s hand fell away. You found yourself longing for it again.

“He’s gorgeous.”

“I told you not to fuck him," your superior, Jess said, her feet bouncing off the stairstepper effortlessly.

“I didn't-- I just, he called me beautiful.”

“He would call anyone beautiful if it meant fucking them. Don’t fall for it.”

You knew Jess wouldn’t say it unless she were serious. She always knew what you needed help with, where to locate a good solution, and had the right words to calm you down.

“How?” you said, louder than you intended. You were suddenly thankful for the pounding music that beat down on your ears in your school’s gym and the rush of people that came and went. “Jess, you’re a lesbian. You don’t understand-- he’s thick. Like, he’s luchador status big. Big, big.”

“I’ve dated some thick women.”

“And he likes me,” you said pointedly, rushing to the topmost step, remembering his words. The way he calmed you down from your embarrassment, seeming without concern for his own body. It was… sweet. “Men usually don’t like me, Jess. I’m too… soft.”

“Okay, girl, whatever,” you were pretty sure she rolled her eyes. “Unless you’re going to be another one of his fuck toys, just ignore him.”

“How?”

Her stare trained on the floors lapsed. Thirty and she was still going. “If you don’t want him, just fire him. What’s going to do? Come find you?”

You stopped for the entirety of five… or ten seconds. Enough to consider her words. Enough to quite literally get plop off the stair stepper and onto the cold floor. Jess exhaled a stale breath, reaching over to jam the STOP button on your machine. Ow.

“Good job.”

Miguel likes to tutor you. Not because you’re good at Spanish, no, for a girl that grew up with a Spanish mother, your skills are quite poor. But he likes the opportunity to have you in a room all by yourself, late at night. Wednesdays are great days for that.

Your soft buttercup yellow dress is short today, exposing your thick thighs that take up so much of the chair. He pretends that he’s listening as you go over a list of irregular verbs, your lip pouting in response to the irregular verbs. Some were simple in their familiarity like poder with endings such as pudiste; but the plurals and other irregular verbs, you pouted at. It was cute.

“Miggy, it’s not funny, ” Oh, nicknames now. Miguel throws a glance at your glossy lips, undoubtedly sticky but oh so soft looking.

“I never said it was.”

“You’re smirking.”

“Then don’t whine,” he said. “It’s cute.”

“Oh--” As to be expected, you shifted your hands between your legs, drawing your skirt in between your legs. He faltered and took a glance, coasting his eye over its edges and memorizing the way it fell over your skin. You’ll ruin her, he remembers Jess saying. She wasn’t wrong, he sensed the bit of it now, how close you sat--

“Take a break, princesa. Vocabulary-- ascendencia.”

Rather than take a break, you turned and caught the corner of his lips in what was a terrible, cherry-red kiss that would stain his skin. But the connection of your lips, puckered in a pouting kiss on his skin, caught him off guard.

“Descent,” you took his red pen out of his loose grip, scribbling descent by the word. Fuck. Miguel took a sip of now cold coffee. A smile kept pulling at his cheeks, looking out of the window and catching the slight reflection of your lipstick smeared across his lip and cheek, he bobs his head into a nod.

“Correcto.”

You’re with Peter the first time you see Miguel with another woman.

It’s at lunch. Tuesdays and Thursdays are regularly spent running to the College of Arts, waiting for Peter to get out, and a picnic. Today, you forgot to bring lunch, running off to the union hand wrapped around his elbow as he talked to you about a bright new camera lens filter.

“These new pictures are going to come out perfect! Thanks for lending me the money,” he beamed. You loved the way he talked about his art-- stopping to show you his newest pictures of the camera that hung around his neck. Peter was always good with a camera, catching you in all the prettiest angles in your trade of photos for… sponsoring a lens or whatever. Or, at least, bringing down the cost. “Look at this one. Look how pretty you look in that dress, kinda like a pin-up! We should do some’a those next.”

Feet thumping over the pavement, you failed to sense Miguel's presence until you smelled his peppery cologne carried on the air. There, on a bench, he sat next to a girl. She was pretty, with long dark hair and soft skin. Her hand was on his thigh and his arm around her shoulder, eating the last bit of a flaky empanada-- your eyes burned, the closeness of her head on his shoulder, clearly done and finished, waiting for whatever next plan he had. You don’t want to know what that could be.

“Huh? Oh. hi Miguel!” Peter waved to your dismay. You held onto him a little tighter, wringing circles around his sleeve. Miguel spares you two a glance, his eyebrows pushing together. But he waves, lazy and short. You stifle the hot prick of tears at the corner of your eyes and yank Peter away. “Wha-- I’m coming, I’m coming!"

Days later, Peter has a plan.

“I’ve got it-- the solution to your tea guy problem! You should have told me sooner that it was Miguel.”

Peter was very excited. Why, you weren’t sure. He liked to feel helpful. That’s why he was a photographer. Photography lets others feel beautiful and seen. He picked at your lunch, his head flopped on your thigh as he worked through his camera.

“I’ll be your boyfriend!”

“You want to be my boyfriend?” you offered him a grape. He opened his mouth with an adorable ‘ah’ of his his lips. You slipped the grape between his lips. He chewed appreciatively. “I don’t know, Peter. Isn’t it lying?”

“C’mon, I know Miguel. He’s macho. The kind of guy you have to make jealous. And I can do it! I’m boyfriend material. Aren’t I?”

“Sí. But I don’t think I can make him jealous.”

It was a sunshiney day, sprawled out at lunch on a cool picnic blanket, tracing the clouds when you heard his voice. Soft, smooth, inviting. Your head spun around, this time with a lean blonde-haired girl-- her legs were long, tummy nice and flat, blue eyes shining like little sapphires set in her pale face. She swooned on his arm. The perfect sorority princess. What if he called her princesa, too?

“--close lab with me--”

“I can do it myself.”

Miguel’s eyes caught yours, raising his hand lazily to greet you as he walked down the sidewalk, undoubtedly back to his genetics lab on the other side of campus. Over where brilliant boys and girls and theys were, rushing through accelerated scientific programs while you figured out how to fix broken artifacts. He lived in another impossible world. A realm far away from Peter and you: photography and the maintenance of culture and art.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Peter's eyes were glossy with concern. “It’s okay. We don’t have to-- did I say something wrong?”

You shook your head. Peter sat up, his eyes bounced up-- from Miguel over his shoulder to your sudden sad eyes. Peter set his hand on your cheek, the fibers of his soft pink cardigan tickling your jaw. Your eyes tore from Miguel, whose pace became sluggish as if steps along took immense effort. Peter’s nose bumped against yours, clumsy and oh so Peterish-- his hand on the middle of your back, his warm but cracked lips swallowing the gasp that tumbled from your lips. He tasted of sweet fruit, the sloppy lunch you shared, and a silly comfort.

He watching? Peter murmured against your lips.

You nearly forgot to return the kiss, captured in the way Miguel stared-- something in his warm brown eyes was almost wounded. Peter shoved you onto the picnic blanket, a soft sorry murmured under his breath as his thin frame fell between your legs. Miguel stomped away, his bumbling blonde rushing to keep up.

“Oh yeah,” Peter rolled over onto his back, crossing his legs one over another. You watched Miguel stomp past the tall hedges, out of your line of sight. “He’s gonna be mad at you.”

“Peter!”

Miguel was still in a bad mood hours later.

“¡Qué surpresa!” he murmured, offering you your paper blotted with red circles. “You did remarkably shit on this test. Do you focus on anything? Or just Peter?”

“Perdona me.” Your focus was shot with his consistent presence in your life. Not that he could appreciate that.

“How long are you going to keep wasting my time?”

“Are you talking about the Spanish or--”

Miguel set the red pen down, a sharp slam snapping the pen under his force. The fragile plastic snapped into shards of plastic. He flicked it away, paper and pen both, his large hand flexing in and out of a closed fist. You traced the tracks of his veins along his forearm.

“Are you mad that I kissed you?”

“Stop.”

“Or are you angry that Peter did?”

“Don’t touch me.”

Though he said that, you didn’t listen. You slid out of the chair and in between his spread legs, your hands trailing his handsome jawline. He jerked back when your lips caught his, the legs of his chair hitting the wall. Though he said no, his mouth opened to your kiss, and his palms flushed against your soft cheeks. You pinned him between your body and the wall-- and though you were sure he’d quickly whirl you off if he really wanted to, he didn’t. His tongue pushed into your mouth, owning yours. His hands skimmed your back, trailing lower and lower down your deep red dress until he connected with your ass.

“You need to stop.” Miguel broke from his kiss. Though he said that, he brought you onto his lap. You felt little in his large arms, his hands guiding your hips over his crotch. “Before I do something you’ll regret.”

You listened to the sounds of the library’s floor. The scrunch of take out into the trash, the sing of a door opening and closing. It was dinner time. Most everyone had gone to get their snacks— and here you were, looking down at Miguel with rapt eyes.

“Peter is just a friend.”

“A friend who happens to jam his tongue down your throat,” he turned the word over on his tongue and found offense in it. “Now why do I doubt that?”

“He only wanted to help.”

“By kissing you?”

Your fingers trailed his jaw, dipping back down for another kiss if only to say you could. That Miguel couldn’t tell you what to do. A sound of frustration ripped up his throat. You felt him, his dick twitching to life behind those sweatpants. He felt big. You bit your lower lip— a movement that didn’t escape his attentive eyes.

“By making you as jealous,” You slid off his lap and onto the dirty floor. But as you lifted a hand, cupping his dick through the heavy fabric, he couldn’t bear to stop you.

His lips pulled in a wicked grin, your soft palm stroking along his length. He hooked his thumbs into his sweats, yanking them down over his knees and onto the floor. His cock kissed his belly, straining with droplets of moisture at the tip. Miguel set his hand on your shoulder and forced you to heel on the floor. His temperament evened out. “You were jealous.”

“Yes--” you murmured. “Are.. those girls, are they special?”

“Special? No, none of them are.”

“I want to be.”

“That so?” Your soft hands trailed along the dark hair on his calves, up his thighs, settling your nose where his muscular hand tightened around the root. He wrenched his swarthy hand along his length, drawing along his veiny cock shamelessly. "Let's see how much you do, princesa."

“Please.”

“Aquí se habla español.” Miguel teased. Your fingers dipped down, small tickles of your fingertips as his heavy balls. He watched you massage them with half-lidded eyes, his lips pursing in a pleased hum.

“Por favor.”

“Abre,” you did, sliding your soft mouth open, a well of saliva on your tongue. Miguel slid himself into your warm mouth, a ruptured groan fizzing in his chest. You didn’t want to be too loud— someone might look into the small window on the door, and see you on your knees between Miguel’s thick legs, sucking his cock down when you should be going over that test you just failed.

You caught the salty beads at Miguel’s top on your tongue, sliding sloppily around his thick head, and lapping at his slit for more. Your soft hands stroked along his length, clumsy and shy. He hummed in approval, a sound you were more than thankful to elicit. Miguel took a fist full of your hair and drove himself into your mouth, your tongue stroking the underside of his length.

“Pero mira esto,” Miguel wrenched his head in your hair, grabbing handfuls of it in his palm. “You can focus on something. Sucking my dick.”

Even if you wanted to look up, Miguel drove your head down onto his dick, the dark, trimmed tuft of his pubic hair tickling your nose. He drew his hips back. You nearly pulled off him, if not for his hand assuring that you wouldn’t move off of it. Drool coursed down from your lips, soaking your chin and neck, connecting to his cock as if it were a spiderweb. Your cheeks flushed with blood— you must have looked a mess.

“Coño," Miguel tutted with his tongue, grasping his phone. Your lips pursed around his tip, eyes flickering up to catch the lens of his phone camera on your ruined face. A picture or a video, you weren’t entirely sure. Only that it sent thumps of pleasure down your core to know he wanted to record it, keep it close. You suckled along his sensitive head, working his moans free. He set his phone aside.

Miguel stood and dragged your head along with him to pin you between the ledge of the desk space and his wonderful hips. His hands slipped behind your head, keeping you still and steady, driving himself deep into your mouth. Past your tongue, down your throat, it felt like he hit parts of you that you could only dream of. You struggled with his size, choking the urge to swallow him when he forced you to hold him there. As if your throat was just a hole for his pleasure. Your sad attempt to suckle him down was tempered by the rocking of his hips, his needy face fucking. Your eyes screwed shut, bits of color dancing behind your eyes, the easiest way to deal with this was to focus— on the way he tasted, the scent of his fresh body wash, the light judder of his hips as he came close.

"Hah-- ay, qué rico," his nails scraped the back of your neck, sloppy and undefined thrusts filling your throat. He spurts thick ropes of his cum down your throat and mouth, withdrawing to jerk the last bursts of his cum over your lips. Miguel’s breath fell from his lips in heavy gulps, meeting yours down on your aching knees. Strings of coughed-up cum connected your sodden lips to his cock, globs of his seed slipping between your breasts. You ached.

“Tate quieta.”

You don’t know where you’d go, your palms catching yourself on the floor. He snapped another photo, humming appreciatively. Miguel reached into his gym bag, pulling a sweaty shirt free. Your fingers dipped into his warm cum that spattered across your warm chest, drawing it to your lips. He tasted salty, tangy, and just right.

"You look so-- so beautiful, princesa, just perfect," Miguel bent down, wiping the rest of his mess from your chest and face, gently stroking away all evidence of your face fucking before cleaning his cock and tucking himself away into his sweatpants. He chucked the t-shirt back into his bag, glazing his eyes over your hazy, exhausted eyes. He crouched down.

“Rule one, I never share my women,” he settled his knuckle under your chin, urging you to look him in the eyes. Something told him you wouldn't be as easy as the others, but for some reason, he shrugged the thought aside. “As long as I'm fucking you, you date no one but me. If I find out you are, we're done. Am I clear?”

He was a walking red flag. But for once, in your good girl life, you wanted that. You wanted to fuck in the library-- against the genetics building late at night-- to kiss him during a sunny picnic. More than you wanted a lot of things. His eyes went soft with your answer.

“Claro que sí, Miggy.”

He loves it when he gets what he wants.

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thecapricunt1616 · 4 months ago

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Sunday - (Chef Luca One-Shot)

𝒮𝓃𝒾𝓅𝓅𝑒𝓉 (𝑀𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝐵𝒯𝒞!): Sunday. The one day a week that Noma is closed. The one day a week that your sweet, sunshiney boy got to stay home with you and ‘rot away in bed together all day’ as you called it which always gave him a good chuckle. But he loved these days, the relaxation and peace of waking up with you and having nothing on his plate felt like a taste of heaven every single week. This Sunday was no different. It was nearing 7 now, so you knew Luca would be up soon. Being the sweetheart you always were to him (since he of course deserved it) you padded quietly into the small kitchen of your shared house boat and clicked on the electric kettle.

♡ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It is you & Lucas favorite day of the week, Sunday, Noma is closed and you get to rot all day long in bed together <3 ♡ 𝐖/𝐂: 2.6K+ ♡ 𝐀/𝐍: Helloooooo!!! I am sorry to all those rotting away in my inbox Luca in S3 gave me insatiable brain worms im still working through forgive me!! I hope this Luca yumminess keeps you satiated while I continue working on requests! This man is a sweet fluffy golden retriever in my mind so thats how he's written! Hope you enjoy :D ♡ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐓𝐂: Fluff, Smut, Unprotected PV sex, Reader has a vagina & is referred to as 'sweet girl', No use of y/n, Size kink (Luca HAS to be hung. like theres no way he isnt.)

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

Sunday. The one day a week that Noma is closed. The one day a week that your sweet, sunshiney boy got to stay home with you and ‘rot away in bed together all day’ as you called it which always gave him a good chuckle. But he loved these days, the relaxation and peace of waking up with you and having nothing on his plate felt like a taste of heaven every single week. This Sunday was no different. It was nearing 7 now, so you knew Luca would be up soon. Being the sweetheart you always were to him (since he of course deserved it) you padded quietly into the small kitchen of your shared house boat and clicked on the electric kettle.

You plunked a chai bag in for yourself and an English breakfast tea bag into his mug and grabbed out the cream and honey. That was something he had started ever since you’d been dating. He thought it was strange at first, since his family always put little sugar cubes in his tea but he found it gave it a much more natural tasting sweetness when you added the honey for him. You were sure to get the kettle just before it screeched and heard the sounds of Luca turning over in bed, likely in search of you from where you left him on his side all curled into himself how you often found him after he’d fallen asleep holding you.

“Darling?” His husky voice called.

“Coming doll, just putting things away” you explained, putting the cream back in the fridge and cinnamon and honey back in the cupboard before grabbing both steaming mugs and heading back to bed. “Morning handsome” you said and he smiled a bit.

“Morning love, what do I do to deserve you, hm?” He took his cup, placing it on the nightstand. “I would love to extend my gratitude in a kiss, do you accept?” He asked in that silly way he always knew would make you giggle, and of course you did.

“I love you, c’mere dork” you set your tea down on your own bedside table and he swiftly pulls you into his lap, kissing all over your face and neck in sweet short pecks. “Oh my gosh! That tickles, Luc!” You laughed, shoulders curling up to save you from his tickle attack.

“You said you accepted so accept!” He teased, wrapping his strong arms around your middle and kissed your jaw with one dramatic final peck and a mmmuah! Before resting his forehead on your temple and giving you a sweet kunik kiss “love you” he said softly and you felt your cheeks heating, turning and resting your forehead on his.

“I love you, I think our tea should be drinkable now” you said and he gave you one more gentle peck before leaning against the headboard.

“Look at that, cinnamon and everything” he said and took a sip from the steaming cup, humming in satisfaction. “Thank you darling” he rested his head back and shut his eyes, and it was your turn now to shower his pretty face in gentle affection, kissing each and every little freckle of his, being sure to kiss along the trail of stubble that had grown since he’d not shaved since yesterday morning.

“Of course. Have I told you how gorgeous you are in the morning, Chef?” You mused, gently smoothing down his wild locks from the pillows during the night and sometimes nuzzled into your chest, since he was convinced that was the best pillow in the house.

“You’ve said so before I believe” he joked, peeking an eye open at you adorably as you gently stroked his cheeks with cupped hands. “If you keep stroking me like a pet I’m going to fall back asleep, angel” he took another sip of his tea and this time when he rested his head back you left supple kisses on his closed lids, causing him to smile and blush a bit at the tickle feeling.

“You deserve some more sleep sweets, nearly 14 hour days this week. My poor love, 80 hours is a killer workweek” you cooed, kissing his temple when he rested his face in the crook of your shoulder nuzzling you adorably and relishing in his well earned and much deserved attention.

“Thought about you multiple times an hour every one of the 80” he said sweetly, planting a kiss on your collarbone. “And just how bad I missed you” he kissed your neck “in more ways than one” he nibbled just below your pulse point, resting his tea back on the nightstand and soothing over the bite with his tongue, the sting and warmth causing you to let out a small gasp. You couldn’t help the smirk forming on your lips, hand trailing back and finding his hair as you leaned into him.

“Yeah? You wanna show how much you missed me baby?” You gently tug on his frizzy strands from the night and his warm hand trails over your abdomen, rucking up one of his t-shirts you’d stolen for bed and rubbing his flat warm hand over your belly.

“I do, may I take these off love?” He thumbs at the waistband of your panties and you smile slightly at his constant need to not waste any time.

“You can, baby” you lay back on your side of the bed and he swiftly tugs them off before laying between your plush thighs and ravaging them with kisses. You gently scratch his hair and his eyes fall shut as he nuzzled his face into your soft flesh, enjoying the warmth and comfort you offered after such a brutal week in the kitchen.

“Love you” he mumbled again, before kissing your thigh down, down, down to where you were aching for him most. “Love you more then anything, princess.” He kissed over your nether lips with a gentle movement, easing his tongue on the outside of your folds and smirking into you as he felt you shiver beneath him.

“Please” you breathe, tugging his hair.

“I’m gonna take care of you, love. I always do” he spread you out with one of his large tattooed hands, admiring the look of your cunt which always brought heat to your cheeks. “So pretty” he muttered before licking a gentle, flat stripe up your hole that was already dripping wet, over your folds that he flicked with his tongue, up to your clit where he attached his pretty lips and sucked in a way that made your hips twitch and back arch.

You let out a whiny moan, looking down at him to see his piercing blue eyes melting into yours, cheeks flush with lust as he gauged your every reaction. “Feels -ah- so- so good, Lu- I missed you so much this week fuck” your head dropped back to the pillow in bliss, eyes fluttering shut. He trailed his tongue down, lapping at your cunt while his adorable nose rubbed at your clit like a man starved. “Fuck I’m gonna cum” you gasped, tugging on his hair tighter “please- please fuck me, Lu. Wanna feel you I miss you”

“Can I make you finish on my mouth, then I’ll fuck you?” He asked in that sweet, innocent way. Like he wasn’t asking about fucking you raw on a Sunday morning and instead was telling someone how many grams of sugar they need in their frosting. A genuine question,with his nose wet from your arousal like a puppy, if you said no he would get right to work. That was something about Luca, he knew his job was overly demanding - so the fact that you wait at home for him to only get a few short hours together before bed every night and this one precious day a week together - he wanted to be sure to give you whatever you wanted.

“Please” you beg, pushing his face back where it was and moaning out when he continued tonguing your pussy as he rubbed your clit expertly with the bridge of his nose. “So perfect- god you’re so perfect Lu - so so strong, and- and smart- just like that baby” you gasped. He hummed at the praise and you knew his cheeks were gonna be bright pink by the time he finished with all this praise he was getting. “An- so pretty” you spread your thighs further “no one can get me off like you do, baby. I love you” you said and he gave you a wet kiss on your inner thigh in response and thanks for your praise before continuing.

It wasn’t long until you were whining his name and clenching around his fingers he used to get you ready for him, since neither of you wanted to take things slow this morning and with Luca unless you were going very slow you had to prepare or things could end badly. Safe to say your boyfriend was blessed in his pants many times over, but after 9 months of being together you thankfully had gotten used to the large stretch it gives. “That’s it. What a good girl, sound so pretty when you cum, you know that angel? So beautiful” he cooed in your ear as his fingers worked you through your high, jaw lacks in a silent scream and brows furrowed at the intense pleasure.

He kissed over your jaw and cheeks, stopping as soon as you whined it was too much. “What do you want darling” he cradled you, kissing your now sweaty forehead as you rested over him in post orgasmic bliss.

“Want another just- just give me a second” you kiss his jaw lazily and rest your face on his shoulder. Legs and core still twitching every so often from your comedown “felt so good Lu, so good” you mumble, kissing his warm skin.

“Yeah? I’m glad baby that’s what I’m here for” he rubbed your side lovingly and kissed the top of your warm head. “I’m ready for you whenever you are love, however you want mm?” He squeezed your hips gently.

“Wanna ride you, you look so pretty under me” you said, eyes still closed and nuzzled in his neck so you couldn’t see the way his cock twitched - more like jumped - in his boxerbriefs - or how his blush extended all the way down to his toned chest.

“Okay baby. But remember it’s ok if you can’t take it all, yeah?” He kissed your head gently and you look up at him through your lashes, nodding obediently.

“But I still wanna try” you said softly. He cupped your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your jaw

“You’re always so good to me, Angel” he gave your nose a gentle kiss and you giggled shyly, taking his hand and kissing his palm.

“No that’s you. Cmon lay down pretty boy, it’s my turn to take over” you joked and sat up on your knees while he shuffled down getting comfortable on his back with a smile.

“There’s lubricant in the side draw” he told you, resting his hands behind his head comfortably and you laughed, shaking your head and he looks at you.

“What? What’s funny?” He asked and you giggle more.

“Lubricant. Its lube you British weirdo” you teased and he rolled his eyes with an amused smile, shaking his head

“If I made fun of your accent nearly as much as you made fun of mine I don’t think you’d be very happy” he joked and you pulled open his bedside table, taking out said lube and setting it on the tabletop.

“Cause I don’t have an accent. You're the one with an accent” you kissed his neck, gently nipping over bites that had healed from last Sunday as you trailed one of your hands into his boxers and tugged out his length, not caring to take them off since you were already straddling him.

“Actually you would be the only one I know here that has an accent darling - strangely we don’t get many tourists around Noma” he teased as you squirted some lube into your palm before stroking him in your hand and he grunted softly “shit” he muttered and you smiled teasingly

“From what I’ve been told, by you is that you love my accent and you think it’s sexy” you smiled, lining him up and sinking down just about half way, using his chest as leverage. “Fuckin hell Lu-“ you hissed at the stretch, and he grabbed one of your hands, bringing it to his lips.

“You don’t have to go all the way-“ he reminded you and you shook your head

“I can fucking take it” you breathed, giving yourself a moment before sinking down another inch and he let out a moan

“Ok- fuck- just- just don’t hurt yourself babe” he said, his breath coming out as warm comforting puffs over your intertwined fingers.

“Feels so good- I just- let me move a little” you said and squeezed his hand as you slowly and gently move up and down over what you already had inside and you both moan in tandem, heads falling back and your thighs shaking at the overwhelming pleasure. “So fucking big” you gasp as you sat on him fully, pelvis’ flush together and he looks down, the sight alone causing his cock to twitch inside of you.

“Jesus fuckin Christ” he looks up at you “how’s it feel?” He asked. You could barely even speak through the mind numbing pleasure that came with taking all of Luca. So instead you just take his palm and press it against your lower belly, beginning to ride him slow and careful and his mouth drops as he feels himself rutting in and out of you beneath his hand.

“See how big you are, Lu? I can feel you in my stomach” you said hotly in his ear and he groans, grabbing the flesh of your ass and helping you move

“I’m gonna cum- fuck you’re so warm darling I can’t-“ he moaned out and you giggled, kissing his jaw gently

“So let go baby” you move yourself a bit quicker and harder with his help, squeaking when you felt the tip of his cock kiss your cervix lightly, jolting at the sharp sensation and clenching around him

“Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, slowing his movements and you shook your head bracing yourself on his shoulders and throwing your ass back on him harder - being sure to angle him up more so that wouldn’t happen

“No- just happens sometimes when you’re big” you assured him and rolled your hips in a way that made his stomach clench and hand tighten around your wrist

“Wow” he said, eyes nearly rolling back. You smiled at your newfound move and continued the action, alternating between quick and slow circles and he was sounding so pretty beneath you, whimpering “I’m- I’m gonna cum- fuck - Angel- can’t- i can’t” his breath becoming more ragged and tense.

“Yeah? You wanna cum inside me. You gonna fill me up sweet boy?” You coo, kissing his neck and nipping gently. With a hot moan and a snap of his hips he was spilling inside of you, whispering the dirtiest filth in your ear of how no other girl has been able to take him how you do, and how your body was made for him and him only. Which of course brought you to the crux of your next orgasm and he just had to lightly play with your clit for a moment before you were crying out for him once again.

Safe to say this activity was quickly added to the weekly Sunday roster.

#chef luca fanfiction #chef luca the bear #chef luca x reader #chef luca #chef luca fic #chef luca smut #chef luca fluff #the bear fanfiction #the bear fx #the bear #the bear fic #the bear hulu #the bear fandom #carmy berzatto x reader

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vani-ash · 1 month ago

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Police officer Chay pulls Kim over for speeding and as Kim is preparing his whole 'Do you know who i am?' Theerapanyakul speech that always gets him out of trouble as the cops know not to mess with the Theerapanyakuls.

Then he sees the prettiest man ever and the speech gets stuck and Kim just lets Chay give him the ticket without protesting.

Then Kim gets home and he's just walking around staring at the ticket when Kinn sees it and takes it from his hand like 'Who gave you a ticket? did you tell them who you were? I'll get them fired for disrespecting us' And Kim snatches the ticket back and tells Kinn to do nothing of the sort

Kim finds out Chays schedule and spends the next couple weeks doing stuff that makes Chay have to talk to him (he knows nothing will be permanent but also he cant do anything too bad that Chay will have to take him to jail) Kim does not consider the option that he could just talk to Chay like a normal person

One time Chay got sick so Porsche who is also a police officer ended up taking Chays shift and when Kim gets pulled over again he had decided today was going to be the day he asked Chay out on a date and has a giant bouquet of flowers in his hand then he rolls down the window and its not Chay.

The new offcier is kinda rude so Kim immediately pulls out his Theerapanyakul speech and flashes his ring and Porsche knows what that means so he lets Kim go grudgingly. Then he switches Chays patrol route because he thinks the old one is dangerous.

Chay gets a little sad that he wont see Kim anymore but then Kim starts showing up again.

When they finally manage to set a date and Kim drops Chay home afterwards and admits he kept getting in trouble as an excuse to talk to Chay Chay scolds him but thinks its cute.

Kim walks Chay to his door and then Porsche opens it and is pissed when he sees Kim.

#Alternatively: The first time Chay pulls Kim over and sees Kim he's like Wik???#Then Chay gives Kim a lecture on how dangerous it is to be speeding #and how he should be more careful what if something happened to him and how upset all his fans would be?#Kim just nods along not really processing much because he's to busy thinking about how pretty Chay is #And Chay thinks it was an accident and he trusts Wik not to do it again so he doesn't give a ticket.#the rest plays out the same with kim keep going back to get chay attention #kim theerapanyakul #porchay kittisawasd #kimchay #mine

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kwanisms · 1 year ago

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Just Like That — h.joshua

» seventeen masterlist «

playlist: fever — enhypen; light a flame — seventeen; sexuality — taemin ➮ incubus!Joshua × f!reader wc: 16k summary: fantasizing about her handsome and sweet coworker has some unintended consequences for Y/N when an incubus shows up in her home after unintentionally summoning him with what she thought was just gibberish. genres/themes/au: angst, one sided pining, smut; religious themes, supernatural themes, demonic themes; non idol au, demon au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem @salty-for-suga @devilsmatches @dmnspiit @simeonswhore @yangracha @atinypurr @aikyubi @labyrinthonmymind @bintificreads @toxic-babexe @plutoneu @sunwoosbaby @lilramennoodle @deadgirlwalking3 seventeen taglist: @aikisbbq @drunk-on-dk @cixrosie @hoeforcheol @98-0603 @briannabk22 @vampiirose @plants-w0rld @dementedaly @generic-teez-127 @sweetlylemon unable to tag: @prestineaugstine @imwhoever @lunaryoongie join my taglists: main Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: this is just pure filth and I won't apologize lol I did this to torture the bestie. It was supposed to be a timestamps lol and it turned into 16k. Thank you for reading, reblogs and comments are always appreciated, and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

A huge thank you to @kpop-stories-21 & @anyamaris for sprinting with me back to back and essentially keeping me company while I worked on this 💕

Translation notes: Cur curritis is google translate latin for ‘why are you running?’ disclaimer: I do not know latin so this could be wildly inaccurate because it’s google translate. Likewise, Mortalem te interro- gavi is what I got for ‘i asked you a question, mortal.’ Again, I don’t know latin. I just used google translate. I’m not going for accuracy here lol. The incantation, Te invoco a profundus inferni is from Supernatural lol

smut warnings: unprotected sex (pls use protection), tentacles, dirty talk, praise, pet names (baby, doll, angel, slut, etc), marking (f receiving), spanking (f receiving) , spitting, choking (f receiving) , fingering (f receiving), slight somnophilia, rough sex, anal, double penetration, multiple orgasms (f receiving), creampie, breeding kink, big d!ck!Joshua being a menace to my sanity, dom!Shua, sub!Reader, and I think that's everything but of course, let me know if I missed something!

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Autumn was in the air. The mornings had become chilly, frosty dew covered grass crunching underfoot that gave way to cool days, the sun warming just enough but not burning. The scent of the holidays hung in the air as you noticed decor going up on your way to work in the mornings.

The only coffee shop in town had finally put up their fall menu and despite how much flack you got for it, you were excited that the pumpkin cakes and warm vanilla chai lattes with a sprinkle of cinnamon and Halloween themed foam designs were back. On your days off, you could enjoy a steaming mug, adoring the jack-o-lantern face staring back at you from atop your drink.

On days like today, you opted for the to-go version of your favorite vanilla latte, grabbing an americano as well as two slices of pumpkin cake, topped with chopped candied walnuts. The bell rang, the sound crystal clear as you exited the shop and headed down the sidewalk littered with fallen leaves in various shades of browns, oranges, and yellows.

Children hurried on by, on their way to school as you walked, rounding the corner and heading for the end of the block where the antique shop you worked at stood, the old brick building stood. It was a much older building than the ones that stood around it, the brick darker and more weatherworn.

You let out a sigh, breath hanging briefly in the cool air as you looked at the storefront. White and black striped awnings hung over the large windows, gold lettering adorning the glass in a curly script that read ‘Pandora’s Box’. You crossed the cobblestone street, heading for the old wooden door and pressed down on the handle. It turned under your hand and allowed you to enter the shop.

A soft bell rang out and immediately you could hear shuffling coming from the back of the shop.

“Sorry!” a voice called out. “We’re closed!” You ignored the voice as you moved around behind the front counter and set down both coffees and the paper bag with the pumpkin cake. You were taking off your coat when your coworker and owner of the voice appeared and glanced over at you.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said, perking up and straightening his tan colored apron. You fought the urge to giggle as he walked over to the door and peered outside the window before turning the lock and looking over at you. “Thought I locked that when I came in,” he said as you removed your scarf and hung it up with your coat on the hook behind your seat.

“What’s this?” Joshua asked, looking down at the two coffees. You picked yours up and took a sip before picking the second one up and held it out for him. “You got me coffee?” he asked, taking the cup gently from you. “Hot americano, extra cream,” you answered, setting your cup down. “I also got us some-” you were interrupted by a sharp knocking at the window of the door.

Both you and Joshua turned to look and saw an older woman standing at the door. It was the elderly woman that lived out on Broome street. “Isn’t that the cat lady?” Joshua whispered, turning his head to look at you as he set his cup down. “Mrs. Briggs,” you reminded him.

Joshua moved to the door and unlocked it, opening the door and no doubt giving the grumpy old woman a pleasant smile. “How can I help you Mrs. Briggs?” he asked in his sweet voice. The old woman wore a very old fur coat that was a bit ratty, almost as if it hadn’t been taken proper care of.

Under the brown fur, she wore a mustard yellow turtleneck sweater with a long brown skirt that reached almost to her ankles. Under she had brown stockings and some brown low heels. She had all of her gray hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun complete with a yellow scrunchie. In her hands she carried a basket full of different knick knacks and trinkets.

“I need to drop these off,” she said in a gruff voice as she attempted to push past Joshua who blocked her path. She looked up at him, lips parted in a look of pure shock. “Who are you?” she demanded. Joshua gave her his famous smile. The one that had all the girls in the coffee shop swooning or the high school girls giggling as he passed by.

Joshua had only lived in this town for a few years now. He moved into the space above the shop which was owned by his aunt. His uncle had originally run the shop but after his uncle got sick and passed away, Joshua moved in to help his aunt out. He was only supposed to be in town for a short time but he decided to stay after a year.

Joshua smiled at Mrs. Briggs. “It’s Joshua, Mrs. Briggs,” he reminded her. She looked positively outraged. “Well where is Bill?” she demanded angrily. “Uncle Bill passed away three years ago, Miriam,” you said, moving from behind the counter and approaching the door.

Upon seeing you, Mrs. Briggs looked much calmer. “Y/N!” she said desperately. You sent a subtle wink Joshua’s way and took over, keeping the old woman at the door. “I need to drop this off. I can’t have it in the house anymore,” she said, holding out the basket. You nodded, looking down and back up.

“Okay, Miriam. Let me just get my pad of paper and we’ll take care of it,” you said, turning to grab the pad from the counter. In your momentary lapse, Mrs. Briggs had managed to push the door open. Joshua moved forward but you waved him off. “I got this,” you mouthed as the woman set her basket on the counter. Joshua nodded and started to head to the back when you called him back, holding out his coffee and the paper sack.

He took them from you and you told him you’d eat your pumpkin cake later.

It took all of ten minutes to check in all the items Mrs. Briggs had brought in and when you were done, you gently ushered her to the door and waved her off before shutting and locking the door. Joshua reappeared, peering around. “You think after three years, she’d know who I am,” he said, moving to lean on the counter as you finished adding the items to the store’s inventory.

“She’s got Alzheimer’s,” you said softly as you worked. Joshua said nothing, watching you write instead. When you finished the line you were on, he finally spoke. “Sorry,” he whispered. You glanced up as you capped the pen and smiled at him. “It’s okay,” you responded, setting the pen aside and flipping the page to a new sheet. “She’s a mean old lady, even before her diagnosis. Very pushy and rude,” you replied as you started to place the items back in the basket.

Joshua moved to help you. “Did she want the basket back?” he asked as you worked together. You shook your head. “No,” you said with a chuckle. “The only thing Mrs. Briggs has more than cats are baskets. I don’t think she’ll be missing this one.” You gave him a wink and made to grab the handles. He stopped you, taking the basket himself. “I got this,” he said and nodded towards the back.

“Your slice of pumpkin cake is in the back. I’ll finish opening up, you go eat.”

You smiled, thanking him before heading to the break room in the back. It wasn’t so much a room as it was an area blocked off. There was a small kitchenette with a mini fridge, microwave, and a sink. In the middle of the space was a small round table with three wooden chairs. Sitting on the table was the paper sack. You washed your hands quickly and took a seat, opening the bag.

The pumpkin cake was delicious as always and you savored each bite. As you were finishing it, Joshua’s voice rang out from the front. “I’m going to open the shop!” he called. You stuffed the last bite of cake in your mouth and got up, tossing the paper sack in the bin and washed your hands, chewing hastily as you dried your hands and hurried back to the front.

Joshua stood behind the counter and looked up as you approached. “You didn’t have to come up here,” he chuckled as you grabbed your own apron from under the counter and put it on. “I was finished anyway,” you replied, attempting to tie your apron strings. Joshua laughed softly and moved to stand behind you. “Here,” he said softly, taking the ties from you and carefully tying them.

“It’s a lot easier when you have help,” he said, his voice soft and breath hitting the back of your neck.

Your cheeks burned and you were thankful he couldn’t see the way you drew your bottom lip between your teeth or hear the way your heart hammered in your chest or feel the heat rush to your core.

“There,” he said simply and moved to grab the paper he’d been reading. “All set.”

You forced a smile, turning your head before moving to your usual spot behind the counter and taking a seat on the stool.

It wasn’t the first time you’d had this reaction to Joshua and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

You weren’t proud to admit it, but you’d had more than one fantasy about your coworker. It was his fault really for being so nice and polite and sweet. Not to mention incredibly handsome and when he pushed his sleeves up, exposing his forearms, you could feel your panties stick to you every time he did something so effortlessly.

It was no secret half the women in town found Joshua attractive and you were one of them. Unfortunately for you, he was your coworker and although Bill wasn’t around anymore, Joshua seemed to adhere to the strict no dating coworkers policy Bill had. Of course, Bill was married and he was usually the only one in the shop until you joined.

You weren’t in the habit of dating bosses so you never cared much about the policy but now it was driving you mad. Especially during the times it felt like Joshua was flirting with you though you never truly knew for sure if he was serious or just being playful. It was hard to tell with him.

The morning flew by after opening the shop. It wasn’t like you were busy. Most of the customers that came in only wanted to look around and very few ever bought anything. Sometimes you’d have town residents come by and drop off their old things. Most of your job was cashiering and inventory.

Joshua did most of the restoration work that came with old furniture as well as other physical tasks like carrying the larger items out to customers’ cars or moving large furniture items to make space for new items. When you weren't busy ringing someone up or filling out an inventory sheet, you’d find yourself watching Joshua work, admiring the way he lifted things with ease. He’d pushed up the sleeves of his cream colored sweater hours ago, exposing his forearms and the veins that peeked out whenever he exerted any force.

You tried not to make it obvious you were staring but sometimes he’d glance over and catch you, prompting you to turn your gaze back to the crossword puzzle you were absentmindedly filling out with bogus answers in pencil. When you looked away, you missed the way Joshua’s smile turned into more of a smirk. He knew you were watching him and he knew he had an effect on you to some extent.

But not the full extent.

He didn’t know how you sometimes thought about him late at night as you teased yourself with your fingers or how you imagined it was his fingers as you pushed them into your aching heat. He didn’t know it was him that you dreamed about riding or that you wondered how his cock tasted.

And he never would.

The sun had started to set when Joshua finally locked the front door. You stretched your arms above your head, letting out the tiniest of squeaks as he walked over. “You can head home,” he said, leaning against the counter, resting his palms against the surface.

“I can close up here,” he added. You shook your head. “It’s okay, you answered. “I don’t have any plans.” Joshua tilted his head, trying to hold back a smirk. “No exciting hot dates?” he asked as you opened the register. You snorted, shaking your head. “No,” you replied.

“Why not?” he asked as you started to count the bills in the till. You looked up to meet his gaze. You hadn’t expected him to ask you that. “Uh…” you trailed off as you stopped counting. “I guess I just haven’t met someone,” you answered. Joshua’s head tilted the opposite way at that.

“You haven’t?” he pressed. It seemed like he was trying to make a point but you weren’t sure what he expected you to say. You shook your head. “Well,” you continued. “Not anyone that’s available,” you added softly, turning your gaze back down to continue counting.

You finished counting the bills and moved onto the change as Joshua watched you. When you finished and wrote down the total, adding it to the records book, Joshua finally spoke. “How about we finish up here and then go get dinner,” he offered. You nearly tripped over your own feet as you turned away from the shelf where you stored the records book.

Turning to look at him, you found him already looking at you, a smile and expectant look.

“O-okay,” you said softly, mentally cursing yourself for stammering. Joshua smiled and turned away before heading to the back of the shop to make sure everything was locked up while you pulled out the profits from the register and placed them into a bank bag and headed for the back where you found Joshua grabbing the broom. “Here,” you said, holding out the bank bag.

He looked up as he separated the dustpan from the broom. He nodded towards the door that led upstairs. “Just set it up on the counter up there,” he said as he moved past you for the door back into the shop. “What?” you asked, turning as he stopped at the door. “Just put it on the kitchen counter up here,” he said with a smile. You glanced at the door to the stairs and then back at Joshua.

“You mean in your apartment?”

He nodded, the smile spreading. “Yeah,” he answered. “Here.” You watched as he reached into his pocket and fished out his keys before tossing them to you. “Just let yourself in.”

With that, he disappeared into the front and left you standing in the break area. Taking a deep breath, you turned to the door and took hold of the knob. ‘You got this Y/N,’ you told yourself. ‘It’s just his apartment.’

You turned the knob and pushed the door open. It creaked softly as you peered into the dimly lit hall. The bottom landing was small and immediately went into the staircase. You shut the door behind you and started up the stairs, each step creaking under foot.

At the top, you managed to pick out the right key and unlocked the door before pushing it open.

Whatever you’d been expecting, it was not this. You’d only ever seen this space once and it was a mostly empty space with a few furniture items stored up here. It was dusty, dark save for the large glass windows at the back of the space that looked out into a small courtyard that backed up to a wooded area. The space had been transformed into a functional studio apartment.

A kitchen had been installed, brown counters with white quartz tops lined the wall against the stairs. A kitchen island separated the kitchen space from the living space. Facing a brick wall was a comfortable looking sofa with a low table between it and a media stand where a large flatscreen stood.

You walked further into the apartment, shutting the door behind you as you continued to look around.

The media stand held numerous DVDs and knick knacks. A knitted blanket lay folded over the arm of the cream colored couch with warm brown accent pillows. On the coffee table sat a small mirrored tray with a gold rim. In the middle was a small tv remote and a couple candles.

Against the wall under the windows stood a side table running the length of one of the windows. It had doors with small brass knobs and most likely held an assortment of different things. ‘Probably storage,’ you told yourself as you turned away from the living room.

Behind the couch was a partition wall that didn’t reach the ceiling. It was made of bamboo and straight geometric shapes with a sheer material on one side to create a separate bedroom space.

The bed was a large king size, wooden frame with clawed feet. You recognized it as one of the pieces that had been stored up here before. Joshua must have cleaned and restored it because the last time you saw it, the wood was dull and coated with a thick layer of dust.

At the end of the bed was a small bench with a folded blanket and a space to sit. Oh either side of the bed were matching nightstands in matching wood to the bed frame. The bed linens were creams and browns, both neutral but cozy and inviting.

Next to the bedroom space at the end of the kitchen was a small folding door housing what you assumed was a pantry and next to that was another door which you could only assume led to a bathroom.

Between the bed and the bathroom stood a large armoire with double doors. It was another piece that you recognized being stored in the space and just like the bed frame, Joshua cleaned and restored it so it was almost unrecognizable.

Next to the armoire in the corner was a full length mirror leaning against the wall. The top was decorated with postcards and a few pictures. Before you had a chance to move closer and take a look, you heard the door behind you open and spun around to find Joshua entering the apartment.

The two of you stared at one another for a moment before he spoke. “I’m done downstairs,” he commented. “Thought you might have gotten lost,” he added with a smirk. You shook your head, still holding the bank bag. Joshua nodded towards it. “You gonna hold onto that?” he asked, amused when you quickly set it down on the kitchen island.

“Shall we then?” he asked, nodding towards the door. You nodded without another word and headed for the door quickly, much to his amusement. Joshua stopped you with his hand on your arm gently. You looked down at his hand and up to meet his gaze. He held out his other hand.

“Keys?” he asked simply. You dropped them in his hand and headed down the stairs as he chuckled to himself, closing the door and locking it before following you.

“Are you hungry?” he asked as you reached the landing. You nodded again. “Yeah,” you managed to say as he led the way into the front of the shop. “How does Italian sound?” he asked as you grabbed your things, pulling on your coat and scarf. You nodded, heading for the door as he followed.

“Italian sounds fine.”

Once the shop was locked up, the walk to the Italian restaurant didn’t take much time at all. It was a small place with only about 5 tables and a small bar. It was nestled between a bakery and butcher shop, all owned by the same family. Joshua held the door for you with a smile as you thanked him and stepped inside.

You’d been to this place maybe once or twice in the whole time you’d lived in this town. It had been owned by the same family for generations and was currently being run by the grandchildren of the original owner. A young girl at the host stand smiled as you entered the building.

“Just two?” she asked. Joshua nodded as she gathered the menus and silverware, rolled up into black cloth napkins. She tucked the menus and silverware into her arm and picked up a pen, jotting something down on a piece of paper on the host stand before smiling at the two of you. “Right this way!”

She led you to a smaller table in the corner meant for couples. All the tables were round, most seating about four patrons. There was a small room off the main dining area with a much larger table meant for bigger parties. Along the wall were smaller tables with two chairs each and at the back was the bar. A long window allowed a look into the kitchen where you could catch glimpses of workers passing by.

A door at the far corner opposite your table allowed workers in and out of the kitchen. You removed your coat, laying it across the back of your chair and sat down as Joshua did the same and the hostess set the menus and silverware down on the table. “What can I get you started to drink?” she asked as you both settled into your seats.

“Just water,” you answered, not in the mood for soda or coffee. Joshua smiled at the hostess as he glanced over the drink menu. “A glass of cabernet, please,” he said politely. He turned to look at you. “You sure you just want water?” he asked, tilting his head. You looked down at the menu, eyes scanning before finding something that sounded good. “I’ll just have a limoncello martini,” you said, looking up at the hostess who smiled and nodded. “I’ll go put those in and your server will be by soon,” she chirped.

“And I’ll still bring you that water,” she added with a wink your way before heading off.

You looked down at the menu, flipping it over to look at the entrees. The menu wasn’t huge but they had a lot of options to choose from. As your eyes scanned, you could feel eyes on you and glanced up through your lashes to find Joshua already doing the same. He glanced back down, a smirk tugging at his lips. You looked back down, trying to finalize your decision.

“I can’t choose,” you heard him say softly. “I’m stuck between the tuscan-grilled sirloin or the mezzaluna,” he added, glancing up to meet your gaze. “Well they have an option to do both,” you offered, looking over the combinations. “You could get a 7 oz sirloin and a half order of mezzaluna,” you read off the menu. “That way you don’t have to choose.”

Joshua nodded as he looked at the menu. “What are you getting?” he asked softly, looking up once more. “The chicken,” you answered, setting your menu down as the host returned, setting two glasses of water down. You thanked her and picked it up, taking a sip. “Which chicken?” Joshua asked as he lifted his own glass, keeping his eyes trained on you.

Before you could answer, the server arrived. She was around the same age as the hostess and looked like she could be an older sister. “Hey,” she said breathlessly and you could only assume she’d been running all over the restaurant, serving multiple tables. “Your drinks should be coming from the bar in just a moment,” she said as she pulled out a pad and a pen. “Would you like to start with an appetizer?” she asked, looking between the two of you.

Before you could say anything, Joshua answered.

I’d actually like to get an order of the cozze in bianco,” he said without even looking at the menu. “I’ve tried just about every other starter but I haven’t tried the mussels,” he added. The server smiled as she jotted that down. “They’re really good,” she answered. “I’m not just saying that cause I work here,” she continued. “They’re genuinely delicious. It’s my grandma’s recipe,” she added.

You looked up, intrigue written across your face. “You’re part of the family?” you asked. She nodded with a proud smile. “Fourth generation,” she clarified. “My great grandparents started the place. My grandparents just retired and now my uncle and dad are running the place,” she explained, pointing at two men behind the bar.

“My sister is one of the hosts,” she added, pointing to the host stand where the hostess who had seated you stood. “I thought you might be related,” you said with a triumphant smile. It felt good knowing your instincts were spot on. “Yeah!” the server said. “Anyway, I’ll get this in,” she said, tapping the pad with her pen. “Then I’ll grab your drinks and come back to take your meal order,” she added with a smile and an “I’ll be right back.”

Once she left, Joshua turned to look at you. “I guess it really is a family business,” he said with an amused tone. You nodded, uncertain of what to say. Silence fell over the two of you as you waited for the server to return. You glanced up from the menu to find Joshua reading over the list of wines. “So,” you said softly, drawing his attention away from the paper.

“You’ve been here a lot?” you asked. Joshua smiled, setting the wine list down. “Been here? Sort of,” he answered. “This place is right around the corner from the shop,” he started to explain as you took another sip of water. “It’s perfect for getting carryout,” he added. “I’ll just call and place an order and then come pick it up and take it home.”

You listened patiently as he explained. “I don’t go out much,” he continued. You tilted your head as he spoke. “How come?” Joshua looked up from the table, eyes meeting yours. “I don’t know many people,” he admitted softly. “So you just stay in your apartment?” you questioned.

He nodded slowly. “Sometimes I go visit my aunt but my cousin recently moved back in with her and we don’t exactly…” he trailed off, thinking of the right words. “Get along.” Before you could ask any more, the server returned with your drinks, setting the wine in front of Joshua and the cocktail in front of you.

“So,” she said with a smile as she pulled out her notepad and pen. “What can I get you?”

After ordering, your conversation with Joshua shifted to other things. You talked about what he did in his spare time, discussing his taste in movies, books, and more. It was the most you’d ever gotten the chance to speak to him but it was nice to learn more about the man you spent half your day with four days a week. You wanted to consider Joshua a friend and hoped he could do the same.

The food was amazing. The mussels were cooked to perfection and though you were never big on them, Joshua got you to try at least one and you were surprised by how good it was. Your meals arrived just as you were finishing the last of your appetizers.

His steak looked incredible and he’d asked for marsala sauce on top. Your chicken was juicy and tender and the lemon butter sauce was perfect. You were glad you decided to forgo the capers in the end. The portions were just right and you were left feeling full but not stuffed at the end.

As your server took your empty dishes, she asked if you had saved room for dessert. Joshua glanced at you. “We’ll look over the menu,” he said and she nodded, moving to take your empty plates away. Joshua looked over the dessert menu. “I don’t think I could any more,” you commented. “Not without hating myself afterwards.” Joshua snorted and handed the menu to you.

“We could always split something,” he offered.

You looked over the page, eyes scanning the sheet. There were staples like tiramisu and cannolis but there were also unique twists on traditional pieces like a cannoli cake. You spotted a chocolate cake as well as cheesecake. “I’m not sure,” you said softly, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth before handing the menu back. “You decide. I’m sure whatever you pick will be delicious,” you added.

Joshua looked over the menu as the server returned. “Made a decision?” she asked to which Joshua nodded. “One slice of the cannoli cake,” he answered, handing her the menu. “We’ll take it to go,” he added and she nodded, moving to put in the order and bring the check. You moved to open your bag but Joshua stopped you. “This is on me,” he said as he pulled out his wallet.

“No, it’s okay!” you said as you pulled your own wallet out. Joshua shook his head. “I insist,” he said more firmly. “I asked you to join me. It’s my treat,” he continued. Sensing you weren’t going to win this argument, you let him have his victory.

When the server returned with the check, Joshua immediately handed her his card and she walked away. While she was gone, you replaced your wallet in your bag and looked up to meet Joshua’s gaze. “Thank you,” you said softly. “For dinner.” Joshua returned the smile as the server returned with his card and the cannoli cake slice already bagged up.

Joshua signed the slip as the server smiled at you. “How was everything?” she asked.

“Oh it was amazing,” you answered as you finished your cocktail. “Better than I remembered,” you added. “Thank you so much,” Joshua said as he slipped a couple bills out of his wallet and tucked them behind the signed slip and handed them to the server. “The food and the service was incredible as always,” he added. The server thanked both of you before walking away.

Joshua stood up and grabbed his coat. You stood up quickly, gathering your things as he grabbed the togo bag and led the way to the door.

Outside, the sun had fully set behind the trees and the streetlamps outside had turned on. You pulled your coat on, noticing the chill that had set in. Joshua had already pulled his coat on and was watching as you slung your scarf around your neck. “Well, I should get home,” you said breathlessly.

Joshua gave you a peculiar look. “Don’t you want to come up and try this?” he asked, holding up the to-go bag. “We got it to split,” he reminded you.

Although your gut was telling you this was a bad idea, you agreed and followed Joshua down the sidewalk and around the corner. The shop loomed over the both of you in the darkness, only one dim streetlamp illuminating the space in front of it as Joshua reached the door and pulled out his keys.

He unlocked the door and stepped in, allowing you to enter after him. As he shut the door your eye fell on the basket on the counter. You were almost one hundred percent certain that hadn’t been there when you both left earlier. “Uh… what’s that?” you asked as Joshua closed and locked the door.

He looked to where you were pointing, setting the bag on the counter and moving to the basket.

“It almost looks like Mrs. Briggs basket,” he said as he grabbed the handle and pulled it towards him. “But the items are different.” You watched as he sifted through the items. “Could you uh…” he asked, turning to look at you. “I hate to ask since we’ve already closed up and it is pretty late, but could you inventory this for me?,” he continued.

“I really should learn how to do it myself.”

You nodded, moving around the counter to grab your pad and pen. You watched as he pulled each item out and set them on the counter. “None of these items are the same as the ones Mrs. Briggs brought earlier,” you said softly as you started to write down the items and the descriptions.

Your eyes fell onto a small statuette and you set your pen down before grabbing it and looking at it.

In the low light you could tell it was very old. It was a small animal statue. The material you couldn’t discern but it almost felt ceramic. It was a cute little calico kitty. You looked it over but couldn’t find any manufacturer or name. “Huh,” you huffed as you set it down, drawing Joshua’s attention.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. You looked up at him. “This little statue,” you replied, gesturing to the cat. Joshua picked it up and turned it to face him. “What about it?” he asked. You shrugged. “I don’t know actually,” you said softly. “It just caught my eye.”

Joshua glanced up at you and back to the figurine in his hand. He set it back down in front of you. “Tell you what,” he said softly. “You can have it.” You looked up from the notepad, eyes wide. “What? Really?” you asked. He nodded and shrugged. “It’s just a little cat figurine,” he added. “Keep it,” he said.

You thanked him and went back to finishing inventorying all the items. When you were done and the basket packed back up save for your little calico figure, you followed Joshua up to his apartment where he started to unpack the slice of cake. The two of you stood around the kitchen island. “Here,” Joshua said, handing you a fork and using his own to take a bite.

You watched as his eyes fluttered shut, sighing in contentment. “That’s really good,” he murmured, turning to find you watching him. “Try it,” he urged, pushing the plate towards you. You gently stabbed your fork into the cake and brought a piece up to your mouth, fully aware Joshua was watching you intently. It felt oddly intimate, having him watch you so keenly.

Once you tasted the cake, however, his interest in watching you was made clear.

“Wow,” you said through a mouthful of cake, covering your mouth with your hand and looking up to meet his gaze. “That’s really good!” Joshua smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I know!” he exclaimed, taking another bite. The two of you continued to take bites of the cake until there was one little piece left.

You held your hands up and moved to the kitchen sink, rinsing your fork and placing it with the other dishes. “I’m done!” you said as Joshua turned. “The last bite is yours though,” he said with a frown. You shook your head. “No,” you said softly. “I’m good. You can have it.”

Joshua shook his head, moving to stand beside you. “No,” he replied, holding the piece for you. “It’s yours.” You looked from the piece of cake up to his face. He was waiting patiently for you to take the bite and although your gut was telling you this was a bad idea, you took the plunge anyway.

His eyes never left your face as you pulled back, chewing and swallowing the last bite of cake. “Okay,” you said, looking up. “Now I’m-”

Your words were cut short by Joshua pulling you in, lips crashing against yours. You moaned into the kiss as his lips parted yours, tongue slipping into your mouth. All you tasted was cake and saliva. He’d abandoned the plate the second you accepted his advances, discarding it on the counter behind you as one hand moved to your hip, the other staying put on the back of your neck.

Joshua guided your body away from the sink and against the kitchen island. You groaned as the counter dug into your back, a sound that Joshua swallowed as he deepened the kiss. “Fuck,” you hissed as his lips left yours, trailing over your cheek and down the side of your neck.

Without warning, he pulled back, spinning you to face the rest of the room, pushing you against the counter as he grinded against you, allowing you to feel his hard cock. “You have no idea how crazy you drive me,” he growled, one arm wrapping around your chest and holding you against him as he rutted against you. You let out a feeble moan, hands moving up to grab his arm as your legs threatened to give out under you. “J-Joshua,” you whimpered.

Your voice must have snapped him back to reality and just as quickly as it started, Joshua pushed away from you, facing the sink and gripping the sides as he tried to control his breathing. “Oh my god,” he breathed. “I’m so sorry.” You turned to face his back, hands on the counter behind you as you steadied yourself. “Wh-what just happened?” you panted.

Joshua shook his head and when he spoke again, his voice sounded strained. “I think you should go.”

Your brows knit together in confusion. Was he… kicking you out? After all that?

“What?” you whispered. Joshua raised his head but still didn’t turn to look at you.

“You should go home,” he said, his voice still strained. “This is wrong.”

You stared at the back of his head incredulously. He practically jumped you at the sink and almost bent you over the island of his kitchen and now he was backpedaling? You said nothing, instead grabbing your coat and scarf from the seat you left them on and headed for the door, yanking it open before stepping out onto the landing and slamming the door behind you.

Your footsteps were loud, echoing as you ran down the old wooden steps and into the back room of the shop.

Up front you reached the door in record time but stopped as something caught your eye. The little cat figurine was sitting on the counter, staring back at you. In a split second decision, you grabbed it. He had said you could keep it after all.

The bell rang softly as you exited the shop, slamming the door behind you and hurried down the sidewalk and around the corner. You stopped for a moment to catch your breath before continuing on.

It was late. Really late you noticed as you walked in the direction of your home. The shops and restaurants had all closed for the night and there wasn’t a soul to be found as you walked down the deserted street.

The shops to your left were all dark, only a couple with running lights on in the back of the shop. On the right side, across the street was the park. It covered a good portion of the town, stretching for several blocks. The park was home to the playground, a pond, a dog park, and lots of walking trails.

It was covered in trees and lots of shrubbery. It was a lovely place to walk and visit all year round but right now it felt menacing and looming. You tried not to focus on it as you continued down the path before you, clutching the cat statue tightly in your hands.

It didn’t take long for you to finally reach your home, ignoring the chilly breeze that followed as you let yourself in and shutting the door behind you. It was an older home, built back before the town grew up. It was a family home, one you inherited from your parents after their passing. It was a cute craftsman style home with four bedrooms. You’d closed off the bedrooms upstairs, taking up residence in the master bedroom on the main floor.

You locked the door, listening for the click of the lock as it engaged before finally settling and feeling relieved. You shrugged your coat off and pulled the scarf from around your neck, hanging both up by the door before kicking your shoes off and heading into the living area.

You set the cat statue on the kitchen counter and moved to your fridge to grab some water. You always kept a few bottles of water in the fridge. Turning as you uncapped the bottle and started to sip, you jumped slightly at the glowing eyes peering in at you from the back window.

Once you realized it was only a cat, you berated yourself for overreacting and downed some more water before moving to the bedroom but only after making sure the doors and windows were locked.

In the safety of your room, you drew the blinds and curtains, quickly undressing and pulling on your pajamas. Your bed was all but calling your name as you pulled back the covers and climbed in, settling under the comforter as the exhaustion of the day weighed down on you.

You fell into a deep slumber, one you didn’t even remember falling into.

Your alarm woke you up at 630 on the dot and you groaned, lifting your head to peek at the red numbers. You really did not want to get out of bed. Mostly because you were comfortable in your warm cocoon and because the events of last night were flooding back in and you weren’t sure if you could even face Joshua after that.

You knew staying in bed and wallowing in your misery wasn’t going to help so as much as you didn’t want to, you turned your alarm off, threw the covers off your body and started to pull yourself from the depths of your bed.

As you sat up, you grabbed your phone sitting on the nightstand beside your half empty bottle of water.

Unlocking the screen you found you had a text waiting for you. From Joshua.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you tapped on the icon to read what he had to say.

Joshua: hey, don’t worry about coming in today. The shop is closed for some repairs. You’ll still get paid so don’t worry about that either. I’ll see you Monday

Your stomach dropped into your lap as you read his messages. So he couldn’t face you either? You weren’t sure what kind of repairs the shop could need. There wasn’t anything you noticed in the last few days. You chose to avoid deciphering what he meant and instead to use the day to get things done.

As you got up and started your morning, you took a shower and changed into clean clothes, opting for a light caramel colored sweater and light denim jeans. You gathered up your dirty clothes and took them to the small laundry room off your kitchen, setting a load and going about the rest of the house, cleaning and putting things back where they belonged.

Time ticked by as you worked, stopping briefly to take a lunch break when you realized you were low on groceries. Deciding to swap your washed clothes over to the dryer first, you set out from the house, donning your cream colored long coat but forgoing the scarf. Today was much warmer than the previous day.

Your walk from your neighborhood to the market only took a couple minutes and you greeted the cashier at the front as you entered and grabbed a bright yellow shopping trolley. You wheeled your cart through the aisles, grabbing items from your list off the shelves and crossing them off as they landed in the basket. You had just turned into the cereal aisle when you stopped dead in your tracks.

Halfway down the aisle was Joshua. He was smiling as he handed a box from the top shelf to an elderly woman. You couldn’t see her face so you didn’t know which resident it was. You tried to back up and head for another aisle but in your haste, you bumped into the display next to you, knocking a few cans of beans off the shelves.

Joshua and the woman heard the commotion and looked in your direction. ‘Oh brilliant,’ you thought to yourself as you knelt down to pick up the stray cans that rolled across the tile. As you stood up, Joshua and the woman had parted ways and he was currently walking in your direction.

You turned away as he approached, setting up the cans and trying to mimic the display they’d been in before.

“Hey,” you heard Joshua say softly. You turned to face him, forcing a smile. “Hey,” you mimicked.

The two of you said nothing, instead standing awkwardly before one another, looking anywhere that wasn’t the other person. ‘Why is this so awkward? Why are you even still standing here? Just walk away!’ You cleared your throat and forced another smile, laughing awkwardly as you took the handle of your trolley. “Well, I gotta go,” you said, your voice much higher pitched than before.

Joshua’s eyebrows shot up as you started to turn your cart and push it past him. He was quick, grabbing your wrist and turning you to face him, backing you up against the shelf of canned beans. Your breath caught in your throat as Joshua looked at you, eyes studying your face.

You saw them briefly look down to your lips and back up. Finally he spoke.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what came over me.” you shook your head quickly. “It’s fine,” you squeaked. “Alcohol does that sometimes,” you added after clearing your throat. Joshua nodded, eyes still fixated on your lips as you spoke. “It doesn’t have to mean anything,” you continued.

The shift in his expression was unmistakable but you couldn’t tell what emotion he was conveying. “It… doesn’t?” he asked softly. You shimmied out of his grip, straightening your coat as you heard voices enter the aisle you were currently standing in. “No,” you replied. “It doesn’t.”

Joshua opened his mouth to respond but you stopped him. “Don’t worry about it,” you added. “Let’s just forget it. I’ll see you on Monday.”

You didn’t let him speak as you hurried away, pushing your cart into the next aisle to finish your shopping. You were grateful he didn’t attempt to follow you and luckily you didn’t see him again, which allowed you to return to the cereal aisle and grab a box of your favorite brand.

After visiting the dairy section, you headed to the front to check out. The next stop was the butchershop where you grabbed your usual cuts of chicken, pork, and beef before heading home to stock your fridge as well as fold and put away your clean laundry.

The task took longer than you were expecting and by the time the last towel was neatly tucked and folded, you saw that it was getting close to dinner time. You sighed, glancing at your fridge upon realizing you hadn’t prepared anything you bought yet.

You got up and walked over to the fridge and opened the door, looking at the contents and settled on one of the flank steaks you’d bought earlier. You grabbed the package and pulled it from the fridge as well as a couple other items and started with rinsing the vegetables you selected.

As you set the items on the counter, the small kitten figure caught your eye. You’d yet to find it a home in your place and moved to pick it up. As you did, a small portion of the bottom fell off onto the counter with a soft clatter and you cursed under your breath. It seemed as if the statuette had a small seal on the bottom that had seemingly come loose.

You turned the figure upside down and your eye caught the end of something shoved into the tiny space inside the ceramic figure. You carefully removed what turned out to be a rolled up piece of paper and set the figure down to start unrolling the paper.

Blackish text written in what you could only assume was a dark red ink adorned one side of the paper. You weren’t sure what it said but you could tell it was a different language. Possibly latin. Your brows furrowed as you read the words in your head before trying to sound them out.

“Te invoco a profundus inferni,” you read off in what you could only assume was terrible latin. You studied the paper for a moment longer before shrugging and turning to your trash bin, crumbling up the paper and tossing it away.

‘Out of sight, out of mind.’

Once rinsed, you started to prepare the potatoes, slicing them thinly before adding them to a glass baking dish. You worked over the dish and the stove simultaneously, making a cream sauce to add to the potatoes before sprinkling some cheese and panko over the top and putting in the oven.

While that baked, you poured yourself a glass of wine and turned on some music on your phone. The bottle was a new one you picked up earlier. While sipping on the wine, you prepared the steak for cooking, seasoning both sides since you didn’t have time to marinate it.

Soft jazzy tunes floated through the air as you went about the kitchen, heating a skillet before adding the steak which started sizzling immediately. You sipped on some more wine as you waited to flip the steak over. Your mind wandered as you waited, wondering what Joshua was up to before you forced the thought out of your head.

‘Stop thinking about him!’

You continued to listen to the music as your steak cooked, sizzling again when you flipped it onto the uncooked side. Once the steak was cooked to your liking, you pulled it from the pan and set it aside to rest while you checked your potatoes and added the chopped veggies to the hot pan, drizzling them with some oil. It was something you learned from your mother.

Once you were sure your veggies were done, the timer for the oven went off and you made a plate for yourself, sitting down at the kitchen island to eat. You had a dining room but as you lived alone, you saw no point in using the table. You could just eat at the island instead.

Just as you were cutting into the steak, you heard the doorbell ring and turned to look at the front door which you could just see from your spot. You waited for a moment before it rang again and you got up quickly, moving to answer it.

Pushing the curtain covering the window beside the door aside, you peered out onto the front step but saw no one. You contemplated opening the door but decided against it and instead looked through the peephole.

Again, you saw no one standing on the other side.

You took a step back, staring at the door in confusion until your thoughts were interrupted by three sharp knocks. You stared at the door and moved quickly back to peer through the hole. Again, the front step was empty. You moved to peer through the curtain but still saw nothing. You turned the deadbolt and backed away from the door, staring at it for a few moments more.

When nothing happened, you turned to head back to the kitchen to finish your dinner.

Just as you crossed the threshold into the living room, three loud knocks rang out from the door, causing you to whip around and head back to the door. This time you unlocked and opened the wooden door, leaving the metal storm door securely closed and locked.

Outside, just as you suspected, was no one. The street was deserted as the sun set behind the trees, casting everything in a bluish glow. The twilight glow. You peered out at your front porch, looking from side to side but not opening the outside door.

Seeing no one, you stepped back and shut the door, locking it once more before stepping back and waiting to see if someone knocked again. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, you hadn’t seen anyone before so why would you see anyone this time?

As you were wondering, you heard something different. Loud, heavy footfalls on the steps outside, almost like someone stomping up the steps to your porch. Before you could move to throw open the door to confront the trickster, three loud pounds sounded at the door, the strength of it shaking the floor of your vestibule.

Your eyes widened, heart hammering in your chest as you backed away. Another three pounding slams sounded on the other side of your door. Followed by three more. You rushed to the door and as soon as your hand fell on the handle it all stopped.

You didn’t dare open the door this time. Instead, you made sure the front door was locked before going around the rest of the first floor to make sure all the doors and windows were secured and properly locked. When you were certain they were, you headed upstairs to check the windows and attic door.

Upon reaching the landing, you were horrified to see that the attic door was cracked open. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at the door, unmoving. You felt a cold chill run up your spine. Although you couldn’t see anything, you knew someone was looking back at you from the darkness.

You watched in horror as the cracked attic door slowly shut on its own. You blew off your sweep of the second floor of your home before running downstairs and grabbing your phone to call the police. As you waited for the operator to pick up you felt a breeze and looked to see your back door was open.

‘I just locked that!’ You were certain you’d locked that before going upstairs. You’d even done the tug test on it. The line clicked and you were greeted with the sound of breathing.

“Hello?” you asked into the receiver frantically. When no one answered but the breathing started to turn into distorted voices and then a deep rumbling growl you hung up and dropped your phone onto the counter next to your plate.

The corners of your eyes burned as you wandered cautiously towards the open door. You peered out the door into the dark and in an instant, you could have sworn your heart stopped. Your breathing sped up as you tried in vain not to hyperventilate.

Standing outside your door, just beyond the reach of the back porch light was a dark figure. There were no distinguishing features, no eyes, nothing to tell you anything other than the fact that someone… or something, was standing outside your door.

Without thinking, you rushed the door and slammed it shut, turning the lock before backing away.

The shrill tone of your phone sounded out and you rushed to pick it up without checking the screen.

“Hello?” you all but shouted. “Ma’am this is [xxx]. We received a call from this number moments ago. Do you have an emergency?” relief flooded your body as you almost passed out from the stress.

“Yes!” you said quickly. “I think someone is in my attic,” you answered. No sooner than you said those words, you heard a loud crash from upstairs. “He might have left the attic and is in the house,” you whispered, your body starting to shake.

“Can you give me your address?” “It’s Y/N,” you said quickly before giving your address. The town was small and the police station wasn’t far from your home. You knew an officer would be by in no time. “Okay Y/N,” the dispatcher said. “I have two officers enroute. In the meantime, can you find a weapon and a place to hide?”

Your eyes landed on the huge knife you’d used to cut your steak earlier and grabbed it quickly. “I have a knife,” you announced softly to the dispatcher who commended you. “Now you need to find a place to hide. Can you do that?” he asked. You tiptoed softly towards your bedroom, keeping your eyes on the bottom of the stairs before finally reaching the threshold and closing your bedroom door.

You turned the lock and made for your closet, squeezing in and sliding the door shut.

“I’m in the closet in my bedroom,” you whispered to the dispatcher. “Where is your bedroom located?” he asked. “Ground floor, back of the house behind the kitchen,” you whispered back. “Please tell them to hurry!”

You listened as the sounds of slow heavy footsteps pounded across the floor above you, heading for the stairs. “I think they’re coming downstairs!” you hissed. “Okay, Y/N,” the dispatcher said calmly. “The officers are almost there. I’m going to stay on the line but you need to be quiet for me, can you do that?”

You nodded and hummed in the affirmative as the heavy steps made their way down the stairs, one step at a time. Each slam had you jumping. You were shaking as you listened, keeping the knife ready to lash out. To your horror, the steps started to walk through the first floor and sounded like they were making a beeline for your room.

You tried to control your breathing as the steps stopped just outside your bedroom door.

You waited for there to be banging or for the door to fly open but neither happened. Instead, there was a rapid knocking at your front door followed by the sound of the front door opening and a voice calling out “police!” you waited for the bedroom door to open and the closet door to slide aside as a light was shown in. “I found her,” the holder of the light said as you held up your hands.

The knife was taken from you and the officer helped you up. After they escorted you out of the house, one officer spoke while another two searched the house bottom to top, clearing each room and even going up into the attic. While the officers searched your home, you gave your statement to the officer who wrote down everything you said.

“And you’re sure you locked all the doors?” he asked, looking up from the notepad. You nodded again. “It’s just that when we arrived, both front doors were unlocked,” he explained. You stared at him blankly. “That’s not possible,” you replied. “I know I locked that door. Multiple times,” you explained.

“Someone was ringing and then kept knocking but each time I checked, there was no one there. I thought it was just kids getting into the Halloween spirit and being a nuisance. Until the pounding,” you continued. The officer narrowed his eyes. “Pounding?” he asked. You nodded as the two officers exited you home.

“Y-yeah,” you answered. “It started as light knocking but when I refused to open the door or come out onto the porch, it turned into pounding. I heard loud stomping up the steps but when I checked, I still saw nothing.”

The officer nodded as he jotted that down while one of the two officers came over.

“We found no sign of forced entry,” she started to explain. “We found a stack of boxes in the attic had fallen over. That was probably the loud crash you heard,” she continued. “Your back door was also unlocked.” Your jaw dropped. “I know I locked that!” you exclaimed. When I came downstairs to call you, the back door was open and when I walked over, I saw someone standing outside-”

“You saw someone outside?” the officer originally taking your statement asked. You nodded quickly as he started writing down more notes. “What did they look like?” You sighed heavily.

“I-I didn’t get a good look.”

Both officers exchanged looks as you rushed to explain further.

“They were standing just outside the light field,” you explained. “But they were tall. Maybe around 1.8 meters,” you explained. “Everything else was just black. There were no distinguishing features at all,” you added. The officers nodded. “Ma’am,” the woman started and you turned to her.

“We noticed an open bottle of wine in the fridge,” she stated and you knew where she was going. “I just opened it,” you explained. “I hadn’t even finished a glass yet,” you added. She nodded and the other officer quickly jotted that down as well.

“Well, other than the boxes in the attic,” she started. “There are no signs of anyone inside the home. Since the points of entry were unlocked, they must have gone out that way before we got here.”

You shook your head silently. “I heard them walk up to the bedroom but I never heard footsteps leave.”

The officers exchanged looks before the woman spoke again. “We’ll have a patrol car in the area for the night and if anything else happens, call us immediately,” she explained as she pulled a card out of a little pouch on her belt. “You can call me directly,” she added. “I’m on duty all night.”

The female officer walked you to your door where you thanked her and watched as both cars pulled away and headed down the street. A chilly breeze blew through the front porch followed by a distant flash of lightning and you quickly retreated inside, making sure your doors were locked before heading to the back door to do the same.

Once you were fully satisfied your doors were locked, you returned to the kitchen to clean up your dinner, putting the uneaten portions in a glass container and putting it in the fridge. You downed the rest of your wine and started to rinse your dishes, placing them in the dishwasher before turning off the lights and heading upstairs to make sure all the lights were off, windows closed and locked.

Before heading back down, you turned back to look at the attic door which was firmly shut. You headed down the steps carefully, turning off the light at the bottom landing before heading to your bedroom where you checked your windows.

Once you were sure everything was secure, you changed and got ready for bed.

Climbing under the covers, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to sleep but exhaustion took over and you were out within minutes of crawling into bed.

You were in the midst of a really good dream when you were startled awake by a loud crash and sudden burst of wind. Sitting up, you looked around the dark room and saw one of your windows had sprang open. ‘How the hell did that open?’

You threw the covers off your legs and got up, moving around the bed ro quickly shut the window, clicking your tongue as you stepped in a wet puddle on the wood floor.

The crash you had heard was thunder and a full blown storm was raging outside. You groaned and turned back towards the room as a flash of lightning illuminated the space causing you to stop in your tracks. In the corner by the door stood a tall, dark shadow.

Your heart hammered in your chest, beating almost up into your throat as it closed, your ability to scream being ripped from you. ‘No,’ you thought. ‘This can’t be happening.’

You glanced at the door but knew deep in your heart that you’d never make it to the door, not with the shadow standing right beside it. Maybe you could climb out the window? Damn! You should have left it open! If only you’d seen the shadow before closing the window!

As you weighed your options, a deep, gravelly voice spoke.

“C̸̫͕̿̀̎̈́̈ͅȗ̶̠̳͉̽ṟ̴͖͛̈́̂̓͠ ̶̞͈̈́̌̄̋͂c̵̪̱̆͂̃u̵̡̪̜̠̣͗͒ř̵̤̠͕͈̉r̵̺̙͙͍̦͂̐i̸͈̜͕͙͐́̑̾t̸̨̩͖̣͖̀̑i̵̯͖̼̓͌͛̑s̴̭̐̍̚̚͠ ?”

You stared at the shadow in the corner. Did… did it just speak?

Uncertain if you heard correctly, you waited for it to speak again, although you had no idea what it said.

“M̶̳̞͖̓ͅỏ̷̮̲̯̚r̴̭̹̈͋̀̎t̶͓̩̪̟̿̉̒́̅a̴͓͐̽͊l̸̲̰̯͛͛͠e̴̝͝m̵͕̱̾͋ ̸̫̩̾͜t̸̪͚͔͋e̴͕̠̘̖̅̍͊ ̶̝̞̌i̵̯̺̯̋̉̄ͅn̶̺̳͚̟̟̊́͆̀t̵̫͗̌̎̕͝e̸̗̋̚ṝ̴̺͇̉͗͗͠r̸̺̭̫͈̖̅̉o̷̟͙̥̱͗͌-̴̮̇ ̷͓́g̷̰̪͋͛̕͝ā̸̙͊̍v̴̭̙̜͋̾̊̚i̶̦̟͌͋̈́͛ .”

Your lips parted as it addressed you, still in the same language.

“I-I don’t understand,” you whispered. The shadow didn’t move but instead, in the same gravelly voice it spoke again, this time in English. “I asked you why you keep running away from me.”

Your stomach nearly fell out of your ass. Whatever this was, it was sentient. “Wh-who are you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The shadow figure chuckled. Actually fucking chuckled. The sound was distorted and unsettling.

“I am Tarrunach,” it answered. Your brain tried to wrap around the name. It was unlike anything you’d heard before. “T-Tarrunach?” you repeated. The figure said nothing and stayed perfectly still, another flash of lightning illuminating the room but still the shadow stayed black, a stark contrast with its surroundings.

“What do you want?” you asked softly, shifting your weight as your hand slowly reached behind you for the window latch. The shadow figure tilted its head before speaking in its rough voice.

“You summoned me.”

Your eyebrows shot up. ‘Summoned?’

You shook your head, halting your movements. “N-no I didn’t,” you answered. There was another flash of light and a clap of thunder. As soon as darkness returned to the room, the shadow figure shifted. Eyes appeared and it took all your willpower not to scream in terror at the sight of glowing red eyes.

“Is that the game you want to play?” it asked, voice scratchy and low. “You summoned me. Do you not remember the incantation?”

As you opened your mouth to say no, a memory played in your head, almost like a movie reel. The cat figure with the roll of paper inside. The strange words written in dark red ink.

‘Te invoco a profundus inferni,’ Your eyes widened as the realization hit you.

You knew it was latin but you didn’t know latin. Had you…

Had you accidentally summoned a demon?

You looked back up and noticed the shadow figure had moved and was now standing in front of the door. You leaned back against the window, fingers searching for the latch to open them.

“I-” you trailed off. “I didn’t know that was an incantation,” you admitted. “I thought it was gibberish.”

The figure laughed again. “Are you in the practice of reciting gibberish often?”

You shook your head. “No,” you answered. “Not particularly. I don’t see gibberish very often.”

You were stalling but the figure was moving closer. The flat black shadowy figure had taken on a more corporeal look, instead of blurry appendages, you could make out a curve in the arms by its side. Your fingers brushed against the latch but didn’t manage to catch on.

Another bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, throwing your room in a cast of bright white allowing you to see the figure in full. Your eyes widened, a scream forming in your throat.

Before you stood a blackened figure. The skin looked almost charred. The red eyes looked back at you from a charred face, the lips pulled back into a menacing smile with rows of sharp teeth. The figure was slim and androgynous in appearance. You saw nothing that would distinguish it as either sexually male or female. It was like one of the Ken dolls you’d had as a child.

Before the scream building in your throat could escape, your fingers managed to grab hold of the window latch and you pulled, opening the window. Instantly the wind blew in, the sound of rain intensifying and blowing into the open space. You tried to turn and climb out the window but the figure moved at an impossible speed.

The window was shut, all wind gone as the figure slammed you against the wall beside the window, hand closed around your throat. “This isn’t a game,” it growled in your face, breath hot against your skin. “You summoned me, whether intentional or not,” it hissed. “And I’ve come to collect.”

‘Collect?’

Fear filled your senses, spreading throughout your body and to the tips of your fingers and toes.

“C-collect?” you gasped, clawing at the hand around your neck. “Yes,” the figure snapped. Without warning, it tossed you onto the bed easily and was on top of you as you bounced on the mattress.

“C-collect what?” you coughed. “My soul?”

The demon tilted its head again only this time much faster, so fast you barely registered it except for the cracking sound that accompanied it. “I don’t want your soul,” it growled. You winced as it leaned in, sniffing your cheek before you felt its warm, wet tongue lick a stripe up the side of your face. You tried to push it away but the demon was much stronger.

“You can’t fight me off,” he laughed cruelly.

You felt your throat close up, tears burning at the corners of your eyes as the monster pinned you against the bed. “Please,” you whimpered. “What do you want from me?”

The demon chuckled again, the sound just as jarring. “I want your energy,” it answered.

You turned your face to look up at it in the dark, it’s red eyes boring into yours. “Energ-gy?”

“Your sexual energy,” it added. Your stomach churned at the thought. ‘No way. Absolutely not.’

You shook your head in agreement with your thoughts. “No,” you said defiantly.

The demon laughed, caging you in with its arms against the mattress. “I figured you’d say that,” it said, taking your face in its clawed hand. You stared up, raw fear pumping in your veins as your eyes met. You watched in both shock and horror as the charred skin of the demon melted away to reveal an all too familiar face.

You managed to push the demon off you and scramble off the bed towards the window as the demon stood up. You cowered away, your back up against the wall. “J-Joshua?”

The figure standing in your bedroom smiled at you, flashing a pair of perfect teeth. “Wh-what the hell?”

The demon started to pace back and forth, keeping its eyes trained on you. “What do you think?” it asked. “Looks just like him, right?” You stared in awe. “Or would you believe me if I told you I am Joshua?”

You shook your head quickly. “That’s not possible,” you croaked, your voice hoarse. the demon laughed and instead of the cruel, jarring sound, it was Joshua’s laugh. The one you’d heard countless times in Pandora’s Box as you told him a joke. The smile was the same one he gave you when he caught you staring at him from across the shop.

The same knowing smirk.

You shook your head again. “You’re not Joshua,” you answered. “You’re just messing with me!”

The demon tilted its head again. “That’s where you’re wrong,” it said in a low, menacing tone.

“Let me show you something,” it said, raising one hand and with a snap of its fingers, the lamps in your room came on. You looked around quickly before your eyes landed back on the demon.

“Is that it?” you asked. “I thought you were going to like, snap us to the shop or something,” you added.

The demon’s smile fell and its eyes narrowed.

“You want to go to the shop?” it asked. You nodded. “That’s where he lives,” you said. “The real Joshua!”

The demon sighed and rolled its eyes before standing up straight. “Get dressed,” it said, moving towards the door. You hesitated as it opened the bedroom door. Sensing you weren’t going to move, the demon stopped. “Get dressed,” it ordered again. “I’ll prove it to you.”

You pulled on a pair of sweats and a hoodie before heading out of your bedroom. It was surreal to see the demon masquerading as Joshua in your living room. You slowed to a stop as it walked around, looking around your house. “Nice place,” it said with a smirk. “How come you’ve never invited me here before?” he asked with a mocking tone. You narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest.

Taking that as a cue you weren’t going to talk, the demon led the way to the door. “Shoes,” it said as it unlocked the deadbolt and looked at you. “We’re going to the shop.”

The walk down the deserted streets at night was eerie enough but the fact that a demon masquerading as your coworker was walking beside you as if nothing was wrong made it even more uncanny. The walk to the shop took no time at all and soon, you were walking up to the front door.

The demon produced a set identical to Joshua’s keys and unlocked the door. You led the way to the back where the door leading up to the steps was already open. You hurried up the steps to the top landing but before you could knock, the door opened and you fell into Joshua’s arms.

“Close the door!” you gasped, scrambling to shut the door behind you and lock it.

You looked up into the concerned brown eyes of your coworker. “Y/N,what’s wrong?” he asked. “It’s the middle of the night and it’s storming.” You glanced down to find your clothes were indeed wet but on your walk, you didn’t remember it raining. Though you did remember it raining when you were back in your bedroom.

“Here,” Joshua said, letting go of you and heading to the wardrobe that stood between the bathroom and the nightstand. “Let’s get you out of those wet clothes.”

You followed him, glancing around quickly. Nothing seemed out of place in the apartment. Joshua pulled out some clothes, holding up the large tee shirt. “This should fit,” he said softly. “It’s not my size.” He pulled out a pair or shorts as well, holding them up to inspect.

Once he’d found something that might fit, he handed them to you and directed you to the bathroom where you changed quickly. Out in the other room, Joshua was heating up a pot of water. He looked up as you approached. “Let me throw these in the dryer,” he offered, taking your clothes from you.

Once he put them in the dryer and poured you a hot cup of tea, you sat at the kitchen island, trying to come up with an explanation as to why you were there. What reason could you possibly have for coming to his place in the middle of the night.

‘I accidentally summoned a demon that wants to collect my sexual energy and it looks just like you.’

He’d call the cops faster than you could finish getting the words out.

Frustrated, you lowered your head and fought the urge to cry, your shoulders shaking. Joshua rounded the island and sat next to you, placing an arm around your shoulders. “Hey, hey,” he said softly. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.” You turned to face him, startling him.

“No one is safe,” you said softly. Joshua’s eyes searched your face. “What?” he said quietly.

“There’s…” your voice quivered as you hesitated. “There’s a demon.”

As soon as the words left your lips, the serious look on Joshua’s face morphed into a smile. “Oh Y/N, please,” he scoffed. “You know, you really are something,” he said, getting to his feet. You watched as he walked back around to his empty cup and moved to put it in the sink.

You got up and ran over to him. “Please, Joshua,” you pleaded. “I’m not messing around!”

When he didn’t respond, you tried to grab his hand. The moment your skin touched his you jerked back with a yelp. Almost like you’d been burned. ‘What the…’

You looked up from his hand to his profile. He slowly turned his head, eyes boring into yours. The brown eyes you’d looked into before were replaced with yellow irises, the sclera no longer white but red. The same eyes you’d seen in your bedroom. Your heart sank as Joshua slowly advanced on you.

“No,” you whimpered, a soft sob escaping you. You tried to run but the demon was quick, grabbing your arm and dragging you over to the counter, trapping you between its body and the kitchen island. “Stop!” you screamed, pushing against its hard chest. “Let me go!”

“I told you,” it said in the voice of Joshua. “I told you I am Joshua.”

You shook your head. “It’s not possible,” you sobbed, tears falling down your cheeks.

The demon took your face in both its hands gently. “I wasn’t lying. I am Joshua. Joshua is me.”

You glanced up to meet the fiery gaze once more. Behind the yellow and red eyes was a sincerity you hadn’t expected to see. The demon wasn’t trying to trick you. “H-how?” you hiccuped.

“How what?” he asked. “Did you not find it odd that I seemingly haunted every dream and waking thought of yours?” he asked. “Or how Mrs. Briggs didn’t recognize me?” You looked up at him. “Are you even related to Bill?” you asked softly. Joshua chuckled and shook his head. “Bill doesn’t have any siblings,” he answered.

“Why are you here?” you asked suddenly. “In this town. Why are you here?”

Joshua tilted his head. “Do you remember the night Bill passed away?” he asked, nodding when you shook your head. “It was a couple days before Halloween,” Joshua started to explain. “A couple of teenagers were out at the old covered bridge messing around with a ouija board.”

You listened as he told the story of the teens and how they inadvertently summoned him, bringing him to the town. That night, after they summoned the demon, they ran, leaving behind the Ouija board. Bill was driving home from the shop and had to cross that old wooden bridge.

As he started to cross, Joshua explained how he appeared, causing Bill to swerve and plow through the side of the bridge and down into the ditch below. It wasn’t full but because there had been a lot of rain the past few nights, the ditch had been flooded more than usual and because Bill’s car landed upside down, he drowned.

As Joshua finished his tale, you covered your mouth in shock.

“And that little figure you took home,” he continued. “Why would I give you a random gift like that?” he asked. “I wanted you to have it. I wanted you to find the incantation. I wanted you to say it, knowing you were curious and had a proclivity for reading out random words you see,” he added.

Everything he was saying so far added up. Your dreams about him, your fantasies, your attraction, everything was caused by him. “Why did you need an incantation?” you asked suddenly, looking up to meet his gaze. “I wanted you before that.”

Joshua shook his head. “I’m a demon,” he explained. “I have rules and rituals to abide by.”

The realization dawned on you.

“That’s why you stopped the other night,” you said softly as it all fell into place. “Because you can’t just have sex with whoever you want?” Joshua nodded. “There has to be a binding incantation,” he explained. “Which is what you read off tonight.”

You swallowed thickly. “Which means…”

You felt one of his hands moved to your hip. “Which means, we have to have sex,” you continued.

Joshua nodded, leaning in and nuzzling your cheek. “Exactly,” he said in a low, husky voice. “But if we have sex,” you said suddenly, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back. “Doesn’t that mean you have to leave?”

Joshua tilted his head questioningly. “Why would I leave?” he asked softly.

“When I have a shop to run.”

Without letting you say another word, Joshua took your lips in a searing kiss, his free hand moving up your back and pulling you into him. “I said that incantation binds me to you,” he murmured, lips ghosting over your skin. “I never said anything about having to leave. I’m bound to you now.”

Your knees almost buckled as you felt his teeth graze against the skin of your neck. “I’m yours,” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “And after tonight,” he continued, trailing kissing back up until his lips were against your ear. “You’ll be mine.”

You pulled him in for a heated kiss, leaning against the counter as one of your legs moved to wrap around his waist. Joshua leaned into the kiss, parting your lips and sliding his hot tongue into your mouth, muffling your moans.

You whined as he pulled away, slowly kissing down your neck to your collar before taking the hem of the shirt you were currently wearing and tugging it up, pulling the shirt off over your head. “Good girl,” he murmured, taking in your topless form.

His hands were back on you in a second, lips trailing kisses down your collar and between your breasts. As he lowered himself to his knees, he made quick work of the shorts you were wearing, pulling them along with your panties down your legs before taking one of your thighs and lifting it over his shoulder.

You watched as he planted light kisses along the inside of your thigh, stopping just short of your aching heat. One of your hands braced yourself against the counter, the other moving down to tangle in his hair as he placed a kiss just above your clit before shifting between your thighs, pushing them further apart.

Your head fell back as you slipped to rest your forearm against the counter again as you felt Joshua’s tongue glide through your folds, brushing your clit lightly. Light teasing licks turned into heavy laps until he pulled back, his chin already covered in your essence. “Bed,” was the only word he uttered.

You were there faster than you could process, your head spinning with arousal as you leaned back against the sheets. Joshua had stripped himself of his shirt in the short distance from the kitchen to the bed and was lowering himself to kneel as you parted your thighs.

He fell onto the mattress, arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling your pussy closer to his face.

You moaned, head falling into the pillows as you felt his tongue back on your clit. He teased and toyed with the bud, not really falling into a rhythm. Instead he was merely taking his time and learning your body. Twice you felt the tip of his tongue dip down to your hole, pushing into it as his nose bumped against your clit. You felt the vibration of his groans against your sex, your walls tightening around the end of his tongue.

Just when you thought he was going to pull away, it was as if his tongue grew, entering you fully and filling your cunt. “Oh shit,” you cursed, fingers tightening in his hair as your free hand gripped the sheets beneath you tightly.

He only pushed his tongue into you a few times before pulling back. You raised your head wearily to see him licking his lips. “Already so fucked out?” he asked with a chuckle. He didn’t give you the opportunity to respond as he pushed two fingers into your cunt, watching your face as your lips parted in a silent moan.

Your eyes rolled back as he started to slowly pump his fingers in and out of you.

“That’s it,” he cooed as he curled his fingers, brushing against the soft spongy spot that had your toes curling. “You like that?” he asked, mildly amused by the response you were giving him despite him doing the bare minimum. “Yes!” you gasped as he continued to finger you. “F-fuck!” you swore. “Don’t stop!”

Joshua continued to watch your face as you writhed in pleasure under him. “Like that?” he asked, angling his hand so his fingers reached even further. “Yes! J-just like that!” Joshua leaned down, lips moving against yours, a mix of tongues, spit, and moans but you weren’t sure whose moans they were.

Joshua pulled away, keeping his eyes on your face as he sped up the pace. “Just like that?”

You nodded quickly, your body starting to shake as your orgasm approached but before it could crash over you, Joshua withdrew his hand. You whined at the loss of contact, making Joshua chuckle. “You’re falling asleep,” he noted. You pouted at him. “Don’t care,” you murmured.

Joshua tilted his head curiously. “Are you giving me permission to fuck you while you’re sleeping?” he asked. You nodded. It felt too good and you were so close you’d do just about anything to cum. “Yes,” you answered. “Feels s’good.”

Joshua chuckled against your skin, leaving feathery kisses against your cheek. “As you wish,” he said softly, gently rolling you onto your stomach. You felt his hands push your thighs apart and shuddered as you felt something hot and wet against your hole.

You assumed it was his tongue until it pushed into your cunt and you groaned into the pillows. It was most certainly not his tongue. “Wh-what’s that?” you murmured. You felt one of Joshua’s hands caress your cheek. “Shh, angel,” he said softly and you almost laughed at the irony of it.

A demon calling you angel.

You tried to lift your head to look back but it was too dark. “It’s okay,” you heard him purr in your ear. “Just go to sleep,” he added.

Your cheek fell back against the sheets as sleep started to take over your form. You felt whatever was inside you probing around and a sudden thought hit you. “Is that a tentacle?” you murmured, your voice partially muffled. Joshua chuckled, again in your ear as he leaned over you. “Yes,” he answered.

“It is.”

That snapped you awake. “Hng,” you grunted as the tentacle started to thrust in and out of you. “W-wait a second,” you whined. “I thought you…” you trailed off as Joshua halted his movement. “What’s wrong, baby?” he whispered. “I wanted your…” your words failed you again.

“You have to use complete sentences,” Joshua cooed in your ear. “I wanted your cock,” you finally whined. Joshua chuckled, the tentacle in you starting to slowly thrust. “Don’t worry sweetheart,” he replied. “You’ll get that, too.”

Your cheeks burned as the tentacle continued to pump into your pussy, gently bumping your cervix with each thrust. You felt another warm wet appendage against your ass and tried to reach behind you but Joshua managed to catch both hands and pin them to the bed.

“Shhh,” he murmured. “Just relax for me. Can you do that, angel?”

You moaned into the sheets as the second tentacle pushed into your ass, carefully stretching you open. Your fingers gripped the sheets tightly as the tentacle stopped, settling in your ass as the one in your pussy continued to move. The sensation was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

“That’s my good girl,” Joshua whispered into your ear as the tentacle in your ass slowly started to move, setting an asynchronous pace to the first tentacle and soon both were thrusting into you. It wasn’t enough to build up an orgasm but it was enough to drive you insane.

You wanted more. You needed more.

You moaned into the pillows as the tentacles increased speed. “That’s it baby,” Joshua cooed. “You’re doing so well for me.” You were aware that the sheets were no doubt covered in your arousal and that a mess was being created between your thighs.

Joshua didn’t seem to mind. Without another word, the tentacles withdrew leaving you feeling empty. You let out a tiny yelp as Joshua wrapped an arm around your hips, pulling your ass up before taking one of the pillows and tucking it under your raised hips.

You moaned as he ran his hands over your ass, crying out when you felt him land a blow against the skin. He repeated this again, rubbing his hand over the spot each time. “Of course,” he murmured, more to himself than anything else. “Of course you’d like that, you little slut.”

You moaned at the degrading name, whimpering when you felt him push two fingers into your heat again. “I supposed you’re ready,” he added. Your body burned in anticipation as you felt the bed move. You had neither the energy or will to look and see what was happening but it didn’t matter.

As quickly as Joshua disappeared, he was back, kneeling behind you and spreading your cheeks with his hands. “Such a pretty little pussy,” he growled. “And it’s all mine.”

You moaned in response as he spit onto your waiting hole. The next thing you felt was the tip of his cock brushing against you. “I’m going to ruin this little pussy,” he growled in your ear. “Make it so mine is the only cock you can take.”

You whimpered as you felt his teeth dig into your shoulder before he straightened back up. You felt the head of his cock as it pushed slowly into you and suddenly, you knew why he prepped you with the tentacles beforehand.

Inch by inch, Joshua slid into you. Your body shook as your cunt stretched to accommodate his girth. As he bottomed out, you shuddered, walls clenching and unclenching around him. “So warm,” he breathed. “M’gonna wreck you,” he added, taking your hips in both hands before slowly drawing his cock out until just the tip was still inside you.

Without warning, he snapped his hips forward, making you scream into the pillows as he pushed all of his cock into you at once. The first few thrusts were the hardest but as he fell into a steady rhythm, the stinging pain was replaced with a dull ache. You could already feel your juices starting to roll down your thighs, no doubt mixed with sweat as Joshua pounded into you from behind.

You could feel the tip of his cock hit your cervix with each stroke. You cried out as he slammed into you.

He hovered over you, one hand on the mattress next to you and the other holding your hip. “You take cock so well, baby,” he growled. “It’s like you were made for this.”

You moaned loudly, tears and spit staining the pillow your face was currently buried in. Joshua grabbed the pillow and tossed it aside. “I want to hear you,” he rasped, hips hitting your ass as he thrust into you. “Wanna hear you scream for me and I split you open.”

Your cries filled the room with each slam of his hips, the sound of skin hitting skin the only other sound to be heard. Your fingers dug into the sheets, trying to ground yourself from the onslaught of his hips. “Mine,” you heard him growl. It was almost animalistic. As if to seal his claim, you cried out as you felt his teeth sink into your shoulder. The stinging pain of your shoulder combined with the feeling of his cock repeatedly dragging against your walls raw sent you over the edge and you came with a whimper, falling limp as he continued to fuck you.

More tears spilled as Joshua moved, his hips never faltering. “M’gonna fuck you so good,” he grunted. “Fuck you like you deserve. Fuck you until you’re full of nothing but my cum. Turn you into my own cum dumpster like the good little slut are.”

The sound of his almost angelic voice saying all those dirty things had your mind reeling as your second orgasm built up quickly, a low, deep moan escaping you as you came for a second time. “Such a good little girl,” he chuckled. His chest pressed against your back as he buried his cock fully inside you, pinning you to the mattress.

“You want that? You want me to fill you up? You want me to breed you?”

You moaned, hips pushing back against him, urging him to move again.

When he did it was fast and unforgiving. His thrusts were erratic. “Fuck,” he growled, his voice hitting a low you didn’t think possible. “Stay down,” he added, pinning you to the mattress as he pushed himself up with one hand. “Yeah,” he continued when you obeyed him. “Just like that.”

You felt his cock twitch and throb in your pussy, your walls fluttering around him as another orgasm washed over you. You’d lost count at this point how many you had but Joshua was nearing his own and you were left at his mercy as he chased his high, hips slamming into you as he growled and cursed in a language you didn’t understand.

As he finally started to come undone, he thrust once, twice, thrice more before burying his cock deep in your walls as he came, teeth sinking into your skin once more, marking you as thick ropes of his hot cum painted your walls and filled your cunt until it started to spill out.

You panted, breathing heavily against the sheets, ignoring the drool on your chin. Joshua shuddered as the last of his cum spilled into you. He let out one final groan before stilling completely. Your eyes fluttered shut as you heard him whisper into your ear but what he said you weren’t sure.

Everything faded to black.

You woke with a start and opened your eyes, sunlight filtering into your room and blinding you.

You groaned as you tried to roll over but your limbs were heavy and sore. It took more strength than usual to roll over. As you did, you caught sight of the alarm clock next to your bed but something was wrong.

It was on the opposite side. You lifted your head and stared at the alarm clock. The red numbers told you that it was just after nine in the morning. That was when you noticed the wall. It wasn’t your wall. You started to push yourself up, peering down at the sheets. They weren’t your sheets.

Just where the hell were you?

You sat up and looked around. This wasn’t your place.

Your gaze continued over the familiar surroundings but it wasn’t until it landed on a figure in the kitchen that everything clicked.

He smiled as he walked over carrying two plates and a mug of coffee.

You watched as he sat on the edge of bed, setting the coffee on the side table next to you before setting one of the plates in your lap. “Morning,” he said cheerfully, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “You seemed pretty tired last night,” he added. “So I let you sleep in.”

You looked around as you tried to process what waking up at his place meant. Did you two…?

Memories from the night before flashed before your eyes.

The demon in your room, showing up at Joshua’s place, the sex. You raised a hand up to your mouth as you realized what actually happened last night. You looked over at Joshua as he ate his own plate of pancakes. “Did we…?” you whispered looking up to meet his gaze. His eyes, which were brown, momentarily flashed red, and you knew instantly.

“We did indeed, doll,” he answered, returning his gaze to his plate.

“And you’re…?” Joshua nodded, looking up. “Yep. I’m a demon,” he answered nonchalantly.

“But I’m your demon,” he added. Your cheeks burned as he smirked at you.

“So I was thinking,” he continued to speak.

“Maybe we could move in together.”

You stared at him as he spoke. “I mean, since we’re bound to each other for eternity now, it just makes sense, you know?”

Your heart hammered in your chest, blood pounding in your ears. ‘Move in together?’

“And if we live together, we can have sex like every night.”

‘For eternity?’

“It would be perfect. It’s stupid for us to be apart anyway.”

You looked down at your plate as your pulse sped up.

‘What the hell have I done?’

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

#svthub #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #joshua hong #joshua hong scenarios #joshua hong imagines #joshua hong fanfic #joshua hong smut #joshua hong x reader

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bobbertskeetz · 5 months ago

Text

𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣 (𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮) 𝙨.𝙧 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Summary: Months ago, she appeared almost seemingly out of thin air; and Spencer couldn't figure out how exactly he'd struck the jackpot of life. A life in which he truly believed himself destined to remain alone.

Themes/Warnings: friends to lovers, slight angst but mostly fluff, no warnings that i'm aware of but feel free to let me know any different!

𝙄 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙩 𝙖 𝙣𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧...

The soft hum of the radio floated out amongst the bullpen, eminating from a young Spencer Reid's desk. He was going to smash it to smithereens. The radio played the same station every day, and has done so for many years. However, recently the station had taken to playing the one song he never wanted to hear again. It was as if the DJ was trying to make him feel as though he was the smallest man alive.

Spencer hated that fucking song. Yet, he embraced it. Perhaps it was an indulgence of self-pity. Or, better yet, a form of punishment for allowing himself to end up caught in an endless cycle of loneliness. After all, Morgan said so himself, Reid could never get a date. His connection with Lyla hadn't had the chance to flourish, if it was even a true connection, and he was in fact, alone again...naturally.

He could've left long ago, seeing as though Hotch had been kind enough to grant the team an hour early off of the work day. But, why would he? No one was waiting for him. No one aside from his cold sofa and empty bed, the two physical embodiments of his heavy heart. Why go home and wallow in solitude, when he could wallow in the company of an empty bullpen, knowing that Hotch was above him in his office. At least, he thought, I'm not the only recluse in Quantico. Despite this conclusion, Spencer failed to find any solace in the knowledge that he is not alone in owning a troubled soul. Once the song ended after an obnoxiously peaceful tune, which entirely juxtaposed the soul crushing lyrics; Spencer reached for his satchel and sulked his way through the glass double doors. Heading home, alone again, naturally.

The clock struck ten, and the light from the TV screen was the only form of illumination Spencer's living room would receive. Doctor Who had been paused for quite a while as he had taken to calling Garcia requesting information on a fan theory online, which he so desperately wanted to debunk. After countless minutes of begging Penelope to read him out the theories she had found, Spencer finally gave up and agreed to her terms and conditions: "chai latte on my desk tomorrow morning, and your theories will be bestowed upon Doctor You!" He was convinced the universe was out to get him.

With a sigh, Spencer dropped his phone in defeat after hanging up the line. Just as he reached for the remote to resume his marathon, a light knocking echoed through the apartment. With a swift glance out the window, checking for unusual vehicles or sketchy characters loitering on the outskirts of his building, Spencer was only met with an empty street and the pounding rain. He rose from his seat and padded over to the peep hole. No one ever paid him visits, he always ventured to other people instead; there was no logical explanation as to why there was a knock on his door this late into the evening.

Carefully, Spencer ducked to examine the peep hole, and he finally released the breath he hadn't realised he was holding. Within seconds, the lock flicked and the panelled door swung open, welcoming a sight for sore eyes.

There you stood, soaked to the bone. Your hair darkened and damp from the torrential storm blowing outside, and your nose red and glistening from the chilly wind. Despite it all, Spencer couldn't help but notice your radiance after all this time apart. It wasn't as though you both didn't care to see each other, it's just, well... life gets carried away. Jobs have a funny way of tearing people apart, and in your case, your jobs tore you both apart for around six months. It is for this exact reason as to why Spencer immediately feels the need to question your sudden appearance on his door step, especially considering the typhoon blowing outside.

"I need a phone." Was your answer, and he didn't miss the gentle quiver of your lip and waver to your voice, unusually smaller than he remembered. With his signature tight-lipped, kind smile, Spencer lead you to the sofa, removing you of your drenched trench coat and handing over his phone. Before you managed to utter any apologies for the intrusion, Spencer had already left the room, preparing a mug of piping hot coffee to aid your chills.

Upon his return, Spencer felt the need to break the silence, "Consuming at least 400mg of caffeine up to as long as six hours prior to sleeping can significantly disrupt your nights sleep." You gratefully took the mug with a content sigh, slipping a small 'thank you' through your chapped lips, before meeting his gaze with an answer.

"And yet, I'm such a mess you're willing to disrupt my sleep schedule." For a second, he panicked, fearing he'd truly offended you.

"N-No! No, absolutely not yo- Oh. Joking, you're joking.. well in that case yes you look insane." The twinkle in your eye had given you away.

"Yes, joking. Despite this definitely being one of the top ten shittiest nights of my life Spence, trust I will never lose my humour."

He breathed a small chuckle and nodded in agreement, silently glad you'd continue your good natured spirit, even after enduring the embarrassment of being stood up only hours earlier. You rang for a cab using Spencer's phone, and then proceeded to enlighten him of your evening from Hell. This guy had left you waiting for an hour and a half while ignoring your calls, your phone then deciding to die and the Heavens burst open, which completely soaked you through.

However, regardless of how you turned up on his door step, Spencer couldn't find it in him to feel regretful for you. Was it selfish? Of course, but, these events brought you to him. And little did you both know, in many years to come, you would be eternally grateful to the sleezy prick who left you in downtown Virginia after all.

As a man of science, a man of reason, even Spencer was struggling to rationalise the sudden shift in the universe. It was as if the two of you were slowly gravitating closer and closer over the following months.

You were every where. Every. Where.

After that fateful night, Spencer felt as though his feelings for you had completely changed. You were no longer only his friend he occasionally met once every blue moon. You were now, his friend who made him blush with every small wave from across the street. His friend who managed to unknowingly catch his eye. His friend who had recently found more and more excuses to pay his apartment a visit, and more and more reasons to remain in contact when he had to travel for cases.

You were here to stay. And in no world would Spencer ever be upset about that fact. So much so, he was adament to keep you in his world indefinitely.

After hours of watching old movies in his apartment, Spencer paused the TV and shifted closer to you on the sofa. In a tired haze, you lifted your head to meet his eyes, and smiled a gentle smile. One which he gladly returned.

Swallowing the lump building in the back of his throat, and supressing all self-doubt, Spencer parted his lips. "I have something for you." "For me?" You straightened your posture and faced him fully, intrigued by this information. The subtle fear and anxiety which washed over his face did not go unnoticed by you, and your interest was piqued once and for all. Why was he so skiddish?

Spencer reached behind him, retrieving a small purple bag from the side table, and held it out to you. Gleefully, you accepted the little token, proposing your theories as to what it may be; to which Spencer replied, "Open it and you'll see!" And you did.

The bag revealed a dainty gold ring, with a heart enclosed in two hands, adorned with a small crown on top. A pinky ring. It took your breath away on sight.

"A Claddagh. The tradition originated in the 17th century in a village near Galway- it- it itself is named Claddagh. The ring symbolises that love and friendship s-should reign supreme, however, the tradition rapidly evolved into giving the ring as a gift to someone you wished to court-"

"Spencer?"

Automatically, his nerves produced an immediate response; "Yeah?!"

You didn't want to cut him off as you loved to hear out his info-dumps. However, you could tell he was spiralling, with each word he spoke the fear grew deeper in the form of creased eyebrows. And if he didn't get to the point soon, the point you hoped he was beating around the bush to, you thought you would explode.

Your words expressed themselves in a small whisper, "Are you asking me out?"

His heart sunk, yet he couldn't lie to you. Despite working as one of Quantico's most prolific profilers, Spencer managed to mistake your awe laced voice for pity. He was to be alone again, he knew it. You were too good to be true.

Somehow, his voice was even smaller than how he felt in that moment, "Yes..."

Of all the reactions Spencer anticipated, he never once guessed you would jump into him on his sofa, entangling your bodies together in a tight hug, and a loving one at that. With your face buried in the crook of his neck, he heard your muffled excitement rise with each breath, "What hand do I wear it on?!"

Shock radiated from Spencer's core.

For years, he had grown accustomed to returning to a cold, empty and often messy apartment after cases. Nothing could prepare him for the sight he'd see once he walked through the door.

The dishes he'd left by the sink four days ago were neatly stacked in the cupboard. The lamp he'd accidentally left on in his room was switched off at the plug. The place was like a showroom, if a showroom had endless amounts of encyclopedia's stacked neatly by the TV, and a pretty girl curled up in his armchair.

There you lay in his navy sweater with nothing else asides from your black underwear. Your bare legs were folded into your chest, with your hand supporting your heavy head. He grinned once he noticed the golden glint of the band wrapped around your pinky.

Quietly, so as not to startle you from your dozing state, Spencer ventured across the room, softly setting his satchel by the sofa. When in front of you, he dropped to your level, bringing his hand up to push a strand of hair away from your eyes, and planted a gentle kiss to your nose. His grin only widened when your eyes peeled open, and a little groan escaped your lips.

"Your nose is cold y'know."

Another groan met his ears, followed by a soft pinch to his cheek. Your own way of greeting him after four long days apart, too tired to speak yet.

Spencer peppered your face in feather-like pecks, before bundling you up in his arms, escorting you to his bed - desperate to warm you up. Once he'd laid you out underneath the covers, Spencer quickly readied himself to join you before you drifted off again.

Sliding under the covers, he got comfy in your embrace, feeling like a schoolboy with you attached to his hip. His mind began to wander, and he could not for the life of him understand how he had gotten so lucky. Spencer had accepted his unfortunate destiny of solitude, finally coming to terms with the overwhelming loneliness felt in his day to day life - and there you were. Like an angel. His angel. And despite his aversion to fate, he forever thanked whatever higher power brought you to him when they did.

With a final kiss to your hairline, he wished you a goodnight, angel and turned out the light.

As usual, the radio hummed a quiet tune throughout the almost empty bullpen. Two more files and he could go home. Two more he told himself.

"Night, Lover boy. Happy anniversary."

Waving goodbye to Morgan, Spencer hurried to finish the remaining paperwork, desperate to get home to you. He had it all planned, a bunch of flowers sat next to him on the desk, ready to be delievered to you with a card, asking you to officially move in.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost missed the familiar tune of his arch nemesis. In all honesty, he didn't even recognise it at first, it had been so long since the station had last played it.

𝙄𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙, 𝙄 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙢 𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙙… 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣, 𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮.

For once, his blood didn't boil. His stomach didn't sink. There was calm. Gilbert O'Sullivan, he couldn't faze him now. Because, Spencer finally didn't have a single aspect of his life to relate to that soul crushing song. In fact, he never had to worry about it ever again.

He rose from his chair, grabbing the bouqet, ready to start his journey home. But first:

𝙄𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙠𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖- He turned it off.

Immediately, almost as if you sensed this monumental moment, his phone rang. With a shit-eating grin, he quickly answered with a joy he could never fully express in words, despite having every synonym for happiness memorised.

"Hiya angel, yes... yes, darling I'm on my way... I love you too."

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst

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mrs-bucky-barnes106 · 1 year ago

Text

☆｡.:*･ﾟ Sweet Nothings ｡.:*･ﾟ☆

pairing: tfatws!bucky x baker!reader

warning: fluff, multiple mentions of cake, mentions of Bucky with children

a/n: Ahhh I had this idea before going to bed and literally stayed up two hours working on it. I finished it this morning, and I've gotta stay I'm proud of my commitment because I usually take at least a month to finish a fanfiction. Hopefully, there's more where this came from. P.S. I'm not a baker, so I'm sorry if I fudged any details. Feedback is always appreciated but please be kind. Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated but no reposting without credit <3

word count: 1.6k

summary: Reader is a baker and Bucky gets a cake from her to take to Sam's picnic party on the docks (scene from tfatws).

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

The bell jingled as Bucky entered Sweet Nothings, the bakery you had started from the ground up. He was instantly enveloped by the sweet scent of baked goods from the array of desserts neatly displayed in the glass case by the counter. Underneath the sugar, he smelled the new chai latte you had just added to the menu. It had been an instant hit, totally trumping the one at Starbucks that everyone raved about. Chai had been a nostalgic drink for you and a completely new one for Bucky. He now had an affinity for it, however, and asked for it every time he entered the shop after you made him the first honorary taste tester of the drink. Now, the shop was bustling since it was happy hour.

Soft music played in the background. Bucky recognized the voice of Taylor Swift, one of your favorite artists. She was one of Bucky's favorites now too. You had impeccable taste, and any song you loved became his favorite. The album that was currently playing was Midnights, the one you had told Bucky he was most like. He loved that about you, how you would associate things like albums and songs with him. It made his heart swell, knowing you thought about him in relation to music, which had a special place in your heart.

You were nowhere in sight, so he assumed you were in the back checking on your bread dough. Bucky approached the barrier that led to the backroom for employees and pushed the door open, hoping to surprise you while you were working. Once he entered, he found you bent over your proving drawer, checking on a fluffy batch of bread dough. He tiptoed up to you and grabbed your waist, lifting you off your feet and causing you to let out a yelp of surprise. Bucky spun you around, chuckling at your reaction (what did he expect when he literally attacked you with a bear hug from behind?).

Finally, he set you down on your feet and spun you around to face him. His eyes were crinkled with laugh lines as he took in your disheveled form. Your hair was in a low messy bun with a few strands astray in the front. You donned a cream-colored beret and a blue long-sleeve over which you had on your cheeky apron that read "Kiss the Cook." It was, of course, gifted to you by none other than your doting boyfriend. A light dusting of flour over your entire being gave you an angelic glow. In Bucky's eyes, you looked more heavenly than all of the desserts in your shop combined.

You blew your hair out of your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest before attempting to glare at Bucky. You didn't last long, however, as his sheepish grin caused you to look down, so he wouldn’t catch you smiling.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on me,” you admonished him half-heartedly. “Bakers can be dangerous when startled, you know.”

“Sure, doll,” Bucky still had on that cheeky grin. “I don’t know about dangerous, though. Former assassin here, remember?” He pointed at himself with his index fingers as if you didn't already know. "I think I can handle a blow from a rolling pin." He picked up the nearest tool his hand landed on, which, unfortunately for him, was a basting brush, making his joke fall flat. He sheepishly put the brush away as you tried not to laugh.

You gave him a warning look before turning your back to him and smiling wide. You may pretend to be annoyed by his antics, but they truly brought joy to your heart and brightened up your bland days. You loved your job, but you loved your man most of all.

“I’ve got the cake ready for Sam’s. Just gotta put the finishing touches on it. Did you bring the Oreos, baby boy?”

You turned around to find his face in yours. Had it been anyone else, you would’ve found it incredibly infuriating. But with Bucky, it left you blushing to your core.

He wrapped his arms around you and held up the blue plastic box. “Right here, sweetheart.”

It was a generic nickname that every single boyfriend in the history of the world had called his girlfriend at some point. But somehow, it was almost erotic coming from his plush pink lips with that deep timbre. You sometimes wondered if Bucky knew the effect he had on you.

“Thank you,” was all you trusted yourself to say as you took the box of cookies from him and started peeling off the plastic cover. You moved away from him and carefully placed six cookies on the cake, one on each of the iced rosettes on the border.

“Alright, Buck, I think it’s ready for the party. Lemme just get a box for it, and we’ll be on our way.”

Bucky smiled as he watched you tenderly place the plastic casing on the cake as if it was your baby. In a way, it was, along with all of your other creations.

“Alrighty then, doll,” Bucky grabbed the cake in his gloved flesh hand, then put his metal arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to plant a kiss on your temple. “Thank you so much for making this, baby cakes.”

You turned pink hearing him use your favorite nickname of all time. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you mumbled bashfully, suddenly shy again in the crook of his arm.

“It’s a Sweet Nothing, which means it’s the opposite of nothing. Doll, this cake is quite literally everything to me.”

“Buckyyy,” you playfully swatted him away. Sure, you were proud of your work, but you still got flustered when people complimented you, especially your boyfriend, who took every chance to make you feel like you were the biggest star in his world.

You eased yourself out of his embrace momentarily to hunt down your assistant. “Lemme just tell Nico to take over the closing shift tonight.”

Bucky nodded and waited patiently by the door for you to rejoin him. You returned and looped your arm around his waist to steer him out of your shop.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

Bucky drove the both of you from the bakery to the docks in his pickup. You held the cake securely in your lap with your right hand and entwined your left with Bucky's. When you arrived, you let go of his hand and moved to open the door, but Bucky reached over you to close it again. Then he climbed out of the truck and rushed to open your door.

"M'lady," you rolled your eyes at him but couldn't help smiling as he took the cake from you so you could climb out of the car. He shut your door behind you, then took off with the cake balanced precariously in his flesh hand.

"Bucky! Be careful!" Your cries were drowned out by Sam's nephews, who were happily trailing Bucky at the sight of the cake. They tried play-fighting with him, pretending to punch him in the face, to which Bucky pretended to stagger backward from the force of impact.

You sighed and let the corners of your mouth lift as you watched your lover boy, totally enamored by his way with children.

Bucky ran to the nearest picnic table and finally placed the cake down safely. You let out a breath of relief you didn't realize you had been holding in and walked over to him.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

Bucky returned to entertaining the kids a little while after everyone had eaten. He stood atop a picnic table, talking to you and Sarah with his metal arm extended out. Sam's nephew and his friend hung off of Bucky's arm. You were trying your hardest to concentrate on what he told you about his days in the Navy, but you couldn't help giggling softly at the sight of him effortlessly holding up two children using only one of his arms.

When you could finally steal a moment alone with him, you handed him a beer and tugged his arm to lead him to the pier's edge. You plopped down and let your feet dangle, the bottoms of your boots grazing the water's surface. After a moment, Bucky crouched down to join you. He scooted closer so his thigh was pressed up against yours. He put his arm around you, and you sighed softly, leaning into his shoulder and staring at the setting sun. Nose pressed against Bucky's shoulder, you inhaled, reveling in the warm scent of freshly-cut pine and the sweet undertones of amber and musky vanilla.

You leaned up to wrap your arms around his shoulder, suddenly needing to be closer to him than you already were. He seemed to understand and gently twisted to the side, snaking one arm around your lower back and using the other to bring your legs into his lap. You moved in to kiss him tenderly. Your hands were in his hair, his hands were on your hips, and everything felt perfect at that moment. You could still taste the Oreo cake on his breath, and you broke away from the kiss slowly, smiling all the while. Bucky returned your smile warmly as you turned to look at the sunset.

Bucky watched it paint your face the most gorgeous shade of pink and thanked his lucky stars at that moment. Somehow, life had brought you to him. He had never thought of himself as fortunate, but he was ecstatic now that you were in his arms, and he damn sure was never going to let go of this beautiful thing he had with you. He pressed his lips to your forehead and tightened his hold on you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

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mewo-ita · 10 days ago

Text

-‘๑’-

Sim + outfit combo: Chai (Calico ver.)

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ Ⳋ "At 2 pm exactly, on the final Tuesday of every month, Chai dons his favorite hat and owns up to the 'cat' nickname his friends gave him. Only on that final Tuesday though. Otherwise, he won't share his snacks with anyone who dares to call him one a second earlier."

-‘๑’-

Sim + outfit combo: Chai (Sugar Rush ver.)

(≧▽≦) "Whenever exams come around, Chai eats as much candy as he can get his hands on to stay awake and maintain his nearly perfect grades. The problem is that he can't remember anything after eating the candy. All he can go off is the remnants stuck on him and the path of destruction left behind."

-‘๑’-

╭┈ ↷ •̩̩͙⁺ 𝓒𝓻𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓽 ⤾·˚ ༘ ◡̈

︴ Calico ver.

︴ Top: @kumikya ✧.┊ ⁭ Bottoms: @dyoreos ✧.┊ ⁭Hair: @raccoonium ✧.

︴ Shoes: @madlensims ✧. ┊ Earrings: @saruin ✧. ┊ Hat: @saruin ✧.

︴ Toast: @skaays ✧.┊ Ahoge: @simbience ✧.┊ Glasses: @mewo-ita ✧.

︴ Face paint: @pralinesims ✧.

︴

︴ Sugar Rush ver.

︴ Top: @aharris00britney ✧.┊ ⁭ Bottom: @aharris00britney ✧.┊ Hair: ✧.

︴ Shoes: @madlensims ✧.┊ ⁭ Socks: @adrienpastel-blog ✧.

︴ ⁭ Hair ears: @icchixxxxxx1 ✧.┊ Gummy acc: @oppasims ✧.

︴ Earrings: @saruin ✧. ┊ Candy acc: @a-luckyday ✧.

╰ _________ ੈ♡‧₊˚ ╳ 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝒸 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓈! - 𝑀𝑒𝓌𝑜.𝒾𝓉𝒶♡ ˎˊ-

#sims 4 community #sims 4 #ts4 #the sims 4 #my pics #ts4 edit #my stuff #phase 1

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minimomoe · 7 months ago

Text

Love Bites

Baker Fem Reader x Toji Fushiguro (mafia au)

word ct: 15.1k, 11 Chapters

tags: Fluff, grumpy x sunshine, found family, a little angsty but nothing too bad, marriage proposal, established relationship, (last chapter only: kitchen sex, creampie, oral- fem receiving, other sexxy funtime stuff)

Chapter Two: Chimayo Chai

Much to your dismay Toji visited the shop at least once a week with the same order. He always wanted to eat two of everything and a new drink to try, a drink that you had to choose for him. Your routine was set to where you had his boxes already waiting for him by the time he came in.

“Can I ask you a question?” Toji stops and stares down at you. You roll the ties of your apron around your fingers to try to calm yourself.

“Why do you order so much? I mean, you come in every week, but you don’t strike me as someone who has a sweet tooth.”

Once again Toji didn’t respond right away but you were used to it by now. Toji seemed to talk more when he was annoyed, so him being quiet was actually a good sign.

“I give them to my son and… coworkers.”

“You have a son?” you perk up. “I didn’t know you were married.”

“I’m not.”

You cringe at his response. You didn’t mean to bring up an unpleasant memory for him but you could never seem to talk to him normally.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I- Here’s your drink,” you sigh and hand him the latest fall drink on their menu, which is a Chimayo Chai. You hold the drink out and he takes it, lingering for a moment before speaking again. “He doesn’t like sweets either. My son.”

Your eyebrows knit together at his confession. “So it’s mainly just your coworkers who like sweets?”

Toji nods and finally takes the tea from over the counter. “They won’t shut up about them.”

“I love to hear that. I’ve been meaning to try more sugar and gluten free recipes. Maybe then you can enjoy them too.” You gave him a soft smile and the word “cute” flashed in Toji’s mind. He couldn’t even remember the last time he used that word willingly. “Oh, one more thing,” you say. “Next week on this day I won’t be here. The shop will be closed actually,” you mutter quietly. The words make Toji’s grip tighten around his cup and he waits for her to continue.

“It’s just for one day! I’m telling you because you always come in on Thursdays so I wanted to give you a heads up. I’ll close earlier on Wednesday but Friday will be open during normal store hours,” you smile and push your glasses up.

“Why?”

You were hoping he wouldn’t ask that question. You really didn’t want to lie to him, but at the same time you didn’t have any idea who this man was, even if your interest in him piqued every time he walked in with his tieless suit and emotionless face.

“I’m… visiting family,” you acquiesce.

“For only a day?”

“Yes, that’s all I need.”

Thankfully another customer broke their conversation with an announcement of their own. “Hey you, feeling old yet?” You smile at your tall friend who reaches over the counter to give you a tight hug.

“My birthday’s next week, jackass. How have you been, Rina?”

“Now I have to be more creative with my learning plans to keep the kids focused on their school work,” Rina dramatically sighs and her eyes trails over to the man she brushed past to say hello to you and her eyes widens.

“Oh Mr. Fushiguro! Funny seeing you here!”

“You know him, Rina?” This was getting ridiculous. How could an elementary teacher know a man like Toji?

“I teach his son, Megumi. He’s an absolute sweetheart. Quiet, but smart. He also loves all things related to frogs. Did I interrupt your conversation?”

“No, not at all. I’m sure Mr. Toji has other things to attend to. I’ll see you next week? Or maybe not, but soon?”

“What drink is this again?” Toji looks down into the cup.

“Chimayo Chai. You’re the first person I’ve made it for so far since it’s new on the menu,” you beam. “Let me know what you think when I see you again, okay?”

Toji nods and leaves without another word and Rina slowly turns to you with a smile pulling at her lips.

“He’s single you know.”

“Rina.”

“And quite a catch. He shows up to all of Megumi’s events and the other PTA moms drool over him from a distance.”

“Rina…”

“I wasn’t joking about Megumi. He doesn’t smile often but he is one of the kindest kids in the class. He’s like a tiny adult. I think you’d like him.”

“Stop that! I barely know the man. I just—“

“You just add new items on the menu in the middle of the season for him to be the first one to try it. No big deal,” Rina smirks and pops a piece of a muffin that she grabbed off of a rack into her mouth.

“Shut up. And I'm charging you for that.”

“Yeah yeah. Anyway, be sure to get ready for the school’s fall festival. Who knows, maybe Mr. Fushiguro will be there too.”

Chapters: I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.

M.list || Ao3 || Twitter || Ko-fi

#minimoe #momowritings #black fem reader #jjk #toji fushiguro #jjk fanfic #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fluff #jujutsu kaisen #bakery au #jjk fluff #kid megumi #minimomoe #dilf toji #toji is a good dad

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i-will-cry-you-a-river · 2 months ago

Text

Part 1

No matter what Er-ge might think, it really was an honest-to-god mistake. He really did not intend to land himself back in the hospital! He was trying to keep himself out of it, in fact! It wasn't his fault that when he ate while hate-reading his most despised web novel, he accidentally sent it in the wrong pipe. It was just an accident!

Then again, maybe if he hadn't tried to stuff his mouth at the same time he had been furiously ranting about the latest Proud Immortal Demon Way update, he probably would have still been in the comfort of his home. No matter - his er-ge would never let him forget if he would admit that he was at fault. So, no; it was an unavoidable accident!

He didn’t remember much, only his meimei’s desperate attempts to do the something-something maneuver to save his life, the loudness of the sirens, and suffocation. Sure, it was painful, but the scariest part was the knowledge that he was going to die. That he would never hug his family ever again, that he would never drink a chai latte ever again, and that he’d never have the opportunity to create something, instead of destroying it. He’d lost consciousness with the heavy feeling of wasted opportunities.

But he got a second chance. If it weren’t for his meimei, he wouldn’t have made it - but there he was, recovering in the quiet hospital room, having one more chance to be the person he always wanted to be. Kind. Helpful. Somebody who creates. Somebody, who is not a shut-in coward, afraid of opening up to people and to new experiences. A better version of himself.

However, he was stuck in hospital for a while - until his er-ge, Shen Jiu, told him he was finally free to go. So, with more free time than responsibilities, he turned to that one piece of media he’d ever regretted allowing to stay how it was: Proud Immortal Demon Way.

He just couldn’t stay away from that dumpsterfire. He was too deep into it.

He should have hated it! He should have stayed away from it, if nothing else, to avoid almost dying again because of that piece of trash. Yet, he couldn’t do it. He just loved it so much. Well, not it; he loved what it could have been, if the author, Airplane Shooting Towards Sky wouldn’t have been determined to drive him absolutely insane with his priorities. So much papapa, and for what?! What about the world-building? What about character depth and development?! It was so promising at first! Airplane’s cultivation world was unique, the flora and fauna - except for the overwhelming number of sex pollen - were absolutely breathtaking to read about! The characters were interesting; all of them had some mystery in their backgrounds. And the protagonist? At first, he was the best protagonist Shen Yuan ever read about! He continued to be, even after the trauma, the blackening, the hundreds of wives, but… Shen Yuan had to admit: his favorite protagonist, instead of going through a character development, went through the reverse. And it was too painful for Shen Yuan to allow it.

So, he decided to do something about it. Opening up his alternative fanfic account - he didn’t want anybody to know what he, as Peerless Cucumber, was reading when he wasn’t criticizing PIDW -, he allowed himself to enjoy the freedom. With his fanfiction account, he never interacted with the fandom outside of the occasional comments on other people’s works, so the quasi-anonymity gave him the push he needed: he finally started to write Saving the Scum Villain, fixing all the glaring flaws, inconsistencies, and outright discrepancies.

He thought about all the wasted potential in PIDW (the world-building that got overshadowed by endless explicit scenes, the underdeveloped characters who could have had so much more depth, the storylines that were abandoned in favor of cheap, overused tropes), and found the way how to correct them: save the Scum Villain, save the White Lotus, save the story! He could write the version he wished the author would have written.

However, it was easier to be said than to be done. Sitting on his bed in his hospital room, Shen Yuan felt the cursor was taunting him as it was blinking on the blank screen. He could feel the familiar restlessness of the anxiety settles in his stomach. He could almost hear the echoes of his er-ge’s disgusted voice in his head: “Fanfiction? You are writing fanfiction?”

Running his hand through his hair, he huffed, “You are just as much of a coward as you’ve always been.” It was a vicious cycle; the longer he hesitated, the heavier he felt, and the less equipped he felt to really write his dream PIDW.

But then he remembered the feeling of wasted potential, how it had haunted him after almost dying. How much he wanted to improve both his own life, and the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way. He started to ask something else from himself: “But what if I could make it better?” He took a deep breath and wrote his first few words.

While he knew it was only a draft, with each sentence, Shen Yuan felt more comfortable. He planned to introduce his story in a different way Master Airplane had done, but to make the necessary changes, he needed to go back to the roots of his fanfiction: canon PIDW. Just as he started to immerse himself in the first chapters of the web novel, ready to take notes on all the tiny details Airplane had ever hinted, a knock interrupted him.

“What are you doing, san-ge?” His meimei asked, peeking into the room.

Shen Yuan shrugged, “You know, just saving the world! No big deal.”

Meimei raised an eyebrow, a slight smile twitching at the corner of her lips. “Whose world are you saving?”

“Luo Binghe’s,” Shen Yuan admitted. His sister gave an understanding noise. She has heard him rant about that web novel, countless times.

“That explains everything,” she nodded wisely, sitting down next to the sickbed. “What a hero…”

“Right? I can’t let a bunch of characters with great potential wallow in bad writing forever! It would be a crime against humanity or something.”

His sister laughed at his excitement, but she felt like something unknotted from her heart. It was lovely to see her brother finally be so lively and full of light as he was ranting about his plans on how to improve the story. Shen Yuan didn’t notice how many hours he was talking about his outlines and ideas, nor the way his sister's smile was a bit wobbly at the corner of her mouth.

When she had to leave, she made him promise that he would keep up with the story. Shen Yuan didn’t understand why she thought it was so important for her, as she never read PIDW - nor would he ever recommend it to her! -, but it was something he could definitely promise. He would write his revised PIDW until the very end!

-*-*-*-

The first chapter he posted, was technically not even a chapter, only a comprehensive guide to the main characters, the canon structure of the cultivation world, and the lore behind the key elements that would affect his version of the story. He introduced some of the peaks Airplane never spoke about in details, he clarified each peaks’ and sects’ core motivations and values, and the differences between spiritual, physical, and demonic cultivation. He explained the structure of the demonic world and its hierarchy, and who were the key players. He was pretty sure nobody really read it, especially not the PIDW fans who wanted nothing except for papapa, but it was for his own peace of mind anyway. He wanted to make a guide to canon; after all, he didn’t want to make a completely new story - he just wanted to elevate the already existing one! He wanted to expand it, and play with it; figuring out the lore behind everything to make it make sense! Giving characters complex motivations, relationships, and arcs that weren’t abandoned for more senseless papapa! Building up a protagonist, who wasn’t just a power fantasy, who survived because the Plot said so, but a flawed, yet relatable individual who worked on his own perceptions, ambitions, and insecurities!

And so, the second - well, first - chapter was born. It wasn’t perfect, as he had to get used to writing again after so many years, but it was something. Something, that told a story of a young orphan boy living in a difficult situation, and who lost the only person he’d ever loved in a tragic fate. Only when he reached the conclusion of the chapter, did he name his character: Shen Jiu. The Scum Villain.

After all, if you save the Scum Villian, give him a relatable background, and make sure gets the push he desperately needs to change, you can save the best protagonist ever: the cute little bun that was Luo Binghe. And the best part was that everything he wrote was built on the teeny-tiny crumbs Airplane left between two torture fantasy scenes.

For a moment, he imagined Airplane reading his story, learning from it, and turning PIDW into a classic novel, but then he snorted. Only in his dreams. Probably that hack of an author would lean more on the sex scenes if he’d ever learn about StSV as a fuck you. At least he would never know that it was his biggest hater, Peerless Cucumber was writing it…

The usually boring and tiring hours in the hospital turned more exciting while creating something. He forgot how much it meant to him when he was younger, stuck in the hospital, he found writing to cope with pain and boredom. It was much better than just allowing the nurses to stick him full of needles and read shitty web novels all day.

The only other thing that made his days more interesting was the guy in the other room.

He remembered hearing one of the nurses telling her colleague, “Poor guy. He accidentally electrocuted himself with his computer. It is a miracle he survived!”

At first, he wasn’t interested in the guy, but then they met in the hospital’s garden. Shen Yuan had been outside for his daily walk out in the fresh air when the guy was trying to figure out how to use the wheelchair alone. He looked way too pale to be healthy and was clearly exhausted, his hands trembling with each movement.

Feeling concerned, Shen Yuan approached him, slowly, as if he was moving closer to a wild beast. Or more like, to an overly anxious hamster.

“Hey,” Shen Yuan said with a smile. “Would you like me to help you?”

The guy blinked, his wide, brown eyes darting towards Shen Yuan - oh, he had such beautiful eyes! -, before quickly flicking away. Shaking his head slightly, he denied it. “I’m fine,” he whispered.

He looked anything but fine.

But Shen Yuan knew it better than to push. The guy was obviously scared, maybe even panicked, so he didn’t need a stranger crowding him. However, he didn’t want to leave the poor guy alone, because who knew what could happen to him, so he stayed.

Walking a bit farther away, he sat down on the bench; even though he needed to rest for a bit. Almost dying was not a fun experience, nor a quick way to be healthy again.

“Okay, but if you need anything, I’m here,” he stated. The guy didn’t respond. He didn’t even look up. But Shen Yuan could clearly see his distressed posture. He waited a moment, then added. “You know, I don’t want to brag, but I’m pretty good at being a distraction! You know… if you ever need someone to divert your attention from something. If you wish to.”

The guy tensed, but then, hesitantly, glanced back at Shen Yuan.

“A… distraction?”

Shen Yuan nodded. Grinning, he said, “I’m good at talking about random stuff. About books, K- and C-dramas, Western series, making fun of conservatives, fun facts about animals and mythical beasts… Hell, I can even tell you about most of the famous K-pop band’s lores, if you want me to! Or you can listen to me ranting about fantasy and Xianxia world-building and the numerous ways an author can screw up the economy and livability of their world! Basically, I can talk about anything.”

For a moment, the guy just stared at him, his expression showing the same incredulity everybody always looked at him. Shen Yuan wondered if the guy would be the same, and rather choose anxiety than the infodump Shen Yuan could provide for him, but then…! A miracle happened! The man’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile!

“I’ll keep that in mind.” It wasn’t an ask for help. But it wasn’t a rejection either.

They stayed relatively silent for a while, but when the nurses came for them both, they parted with a smile and the unspoken promise that they would meet again.

Even just thinking back to that first meeting filled him with warmth. He wished they could talk more the next time, or at least just interact again. Until then, however, he had his fanfic to occupy his mind, time and energy.

While the first few chapters didn't gather much attention at first, slowly, but surely, he started getting comments and compliments, people wishing him to continue with his work.

Amongst the few comments, one was standing out. It wasn't the usual “pls more!” or “when will you update???” or “this sucks. You should write more about qjl pushing sj down and- [redacted]”. Instead it was thoughtful, even enthusiastic.

Fallingfromsky1: I really like the way you’ve fleshed out the cultivation world! The attention to detail with the sect politics and partly ancient, partly modern, partly created customs is exactly what PIDW was missing! It makes the story so much richer. Can’t wait to see where this goes!

Shen Yuan blinked, a little surprised. Other than the above mentioned ones, most of the comments he’d seen on fanfiction in the PIDW fandom were either thirsting over characters or begging for more smut. This... this was different. It wasn’t just a compliment; it was someone who cared about the same things he did.

Without thinking too much about it, Shen Yuan replied:

NobodysShizun: Thanks! That’s exactly what I was going for. I thought PIDW’s world had a lot of potential, but it was wasted on... well, you know. I hope you will continue to like it even when I shift the focus to Luo Binghe. I want him to feel like a real person, not just a sex-crazed stallion for readers to project onto.

Almost immediately, Fallingfromsky1 responded:

Fallingfromsky1: Oh, definitely! I can't wait to read it! That’s one of my biggest complaints too. The characters in PIDW could be so much more, but it’s like the author keeps sacrificing depth for... other things. I think what you’re doing here is amazing. Even the Scum Villain feels much more relatable.

Shen Yuan felt a weird sense of validation from those words. It was like Fallingfromsky1 understood exactly what had driven him to write this fanfiction in the first place. For the first time, Shen Yuan felt like he wasn’t just ranting into the void.

His interactions with Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky were a completely different beast. They were nothing like his conversations with Fallingfromsky1, which had become comfortable and almost... reassuring. No, when it came to Airplane, things were prickly from the start, like a battleground full of grenades.

The web novel that had driven him to the edge of frustration - and, let’s be honest, the brink of insanity and death - was something he continued to read even after he’d started writing his own fanfiction. For one, he needed to know how canon progressed to be able to improve its quality. For another… he would have read it anyway. There was just something infuriatingly addictive about the terrible plot and ridiculous characters, not to mention the endless papapa scenes. He was hooked and not even his much better story could fulfill his need of bad literature.

After each new chapter, Shen Yuan found himself unable to stop from leaving biting, sarcastic comments on the story under his usual handle, Peerless Cucumber. He wanted to keep his accs as far as he could for as long as it was possible.

Peerless Cucumber: Great. Another fight resolved with the power of an inexplicably sudden increase in the protagonist’s cultivation without anything at all. There weren't any helpful flowers around him! He didn't even dual cultivate! Then pray, tell me, how the fuck did his cultivation get better so suddenly?!

Shen Yuan hit send, feeling deeply irritated with the author. Sure, he had long since proven that consistency and thinking wasn't his strong suit, and Shen Yuan's come to accept that nothing about PIDW was ever going to make logical sense, but at least venting in the comments helped ease his annoyance.

To his surprise, not long after, a reply popped up.

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: Hey, it’s called plot progression, Cucumber-bro. Maybe read a book on narrative structure instead of whining in the comments?

Shen Yuan blinked. It was quite sudden; Airplane never responded to his comments before. This was new. And... well, a little thrilling. Exciting. It felt strangely like a secret.

Peerless Cucumber: Oh, trust me, I’ve read plenty of books on narrative structure. Maybe you should try that sometime instead of churning out nonsense every other chapter.

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: At least I’m consistent in said nonsense. What's your excuse for staying with me after more than 400 chapters?

Shen Yuan couldn’t help but laugh out loud at his phone. He never would have expected that Airplane was so snarky and that he would ever talk with him like this. He was quite excited to explore whether it was going to be the beginning of something new - leaving snarky comments on PIDW, only to have Airplane respond with just as much sass. He hoped it would continue.

He hoped Airplane would enjoy it as much as he would.

#self indulgent #cumplane #shen yuan #shang qinghua #shen yuan/shang qinghua #svsss #svsss fanfiction #no transmigration au

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rebelliousstories · 6 months ago

Text

What We Know

Relationship: Spencer Reid x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 1,357

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Part One: Did You Know?// Part Two: I Know Now// Part Three: Somebody Knows

Summary: Truth or Dare. Who learns the truth? And who takes a dare?

David Foster Wallace said, “The truth will set you free. But not until it is finished with you.”

“Spence. Oh, my God. Spencer!” She yelled, running through the mass of informs that were trying to keep her away. Her heart was racing a million miles an hour as she ran to her husband. He barely registered that she was there and felt like he was in a haze.

Spencer wrapped his arms around the woman, but could not say anything. He ran his hands over her back and through her hair. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, Spencer locked eyes with JJ who was getting checked out by some medics in the background of an ambulance. As soon as their eyes locked, they broke it immediately. The stress and pain of the last few hours were catching up.

“Let’s get you to checked out, honey.” She was ushering her husband over to an unoccupied EMT so that he could be taken care of. Reid let his wife fuss over him as much as she wanted to as he let his thoughts run wild. Words ran all through his mind, and he replayed the last few minutes.

“Thank you. I’ll drive him home,” came her voice, finally breaking through his fog. “Just need to see if he needs anything from his office and then I’ll make sure he gets plenty of rest at home.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispered, drawing her attention again. “Where’s is she? Where’s Erin?” Spencer pleaded with his wife with big brown eyes staring up at her.

“It’s okay. She’s safe with Krystal. I wanted to make sure that she was going to be okay before coming to get you.” She reassured him, and got him to loosen his grip just a little bit. He settled back in to where he was sitting. Letting the medics work, Mrs. Reid noticed that far off look returning to Mr. Reid’s eyes again, but just let him be for now. Once he was given the all clear, she walked her husband to their car that was waiting behind the police tape. They sat in their seats for a moment in silence before she turned to the man next to her.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” She asked, reaching a hand up to run through his hair gently. Spencer leaned into her hand when it reached his stubbly cheek.

“Let’s go get Erin. I’ll explain it later.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to her palm. Even though she was not convinced that her husband was alright, she put the car in drive and went to go get there daughter.

The drive to the Rossi estate was a silent one. Both of their thoughts were racing, but for very different reasons. She parked the car as soon as they got to the door and left Spencer in. Knocking on the door gave her the image of Krystal as she cradled their daughter.

“She’s been out like a light the whole time. Such a well behaved baby.” Krystal complimented. Mrs. Reid took her daughter from the woman with a grateful smile.

“I really appreciate you doing this for us. David’s okay by the way. And we got Spence and JJ out. We’re gonna head home now. I’m really glad you could watch her on such short notice.” Readjusting her hold on her daughter, she bid farewell to the older woman and went to get back in the car. She went to go put her in the backseat, but Spencer reached for her instead.

“Please?” He pleaded. Coming back to the front seat, she placed Erin in Spencer’s arms. She was still so little and they wanted to cherish the time they had left with her. Their daughter was just about to turn two years old, but she still slept well through the night. Whenever she could, she watched her husband cradle their daughter in the passenger seat.

Once they made it home, Spencer refused to let Erin go. Even when they made it into her room, he could not bring himself to put his daughter in her bed. He just made his way to the rocking chair in her room and held her close to his chest. Spencer switched her to one of his arms, and struggled to take his tie off with one of his hands. It was just a moment later when another set of hands came into help.

His wife was gently slipping the tie from around his throat. And once that was placed on Erin’s changing table, her hands unbuttoned his shirt. It was only a couple buttons, but the contact made Erin slip further into her sleep. Spencer still had not said much the entire evening, which was concerning to her. She did not know what went down in that store, but it could not have been good if I triggered this kind of response from her husband.

“Let’s go to bed, honey.” She gently tried to pry her husband from the chair, and he followed her soft hands wherever she led him. Spencer placed Erin down in her crib, and stood there for a minute. His wife made her way to the door and placed her hand on the knob to close it. He watched their daughter, and stroked her cheek softly. Spencer took a deep breath and walked out with his wife.

She rubbed his shoulder gently, and went to make her way to the bedroom but Spencer just went to go sit on the couch. Watching her husband with saddened eyes, she just went into the kitchen. Spencer was staring off into space when he finally realized that he was being joined again by his wife. She placed down a couple of mugs in front of them. There was nothing said as they sipped their warm beverages. Mrs. Reid was waiting until Spencer felt like he could speak to do so.

“JJ she, um, she said she was in love with me.” He finally blurted out. Setting her mug down, she sat there for a minute. She just looked to her husband with an indistinguishable expression on her face.

“The unsub, he made us play truth or dare. And he asked Jennifer to tell him something that she would never admit aloud. She said she was in love with me, and always had been.” Spencer explained, setting down his mug.

“And what did you say?” She asked.

“Nothing. I shot him with the gun from my ankle. He took my main firearm.” He replied, looking to his smirking wife.

“Wonder where you learned that from?” She teased with a smirk on her lips. Spencer finally let a smile crack across his face as he chuckled.

“How are you feeling about it, Spence? I know how you used to have a crush on her.” Husband leaned against wife and she ran her hand through his curls.

“I’m alright. I used to want her, but it’s been years since I’ve thought of her like that. I’m not sure what’s going to happen with us though.”

Spencer moved his head off of her shoulder and brought his hand up to her face. He cradled it as gently as he had cradled their daughter moments ago. There was nothing but love in his eyes as he gazed into her eyes.

“Anything else,” came her question. The man only shook his head and brought her in for a kiss. After all these years together, every time they kissed, it was still just as good as the first time.

“Let’s go to bed honey.” And with that, he pulled his wife to stand next to him. Leading her into the bedroom, Spencer made sure to completely change and secure his firearms before moving to the bed. Once his wife was in the bed as well, he pulled her under the covers and into his arms.

“I love you.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair.

“I love you too.” She whispered back, pressing a kiss to her chest.

“Honesty is more than not lying. It is truth telling, truth speaking, truth living, and truth loving.” James E. Faust

#rebelliousstories #writing #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #jennifer jareau #david rossi

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wordingg · 30 days ago

Text

Let's Get Vengeful

Day Three of Dead Boy Ween! Prompt: Disguises

Summary: Charles and Edwin tap into their worst emotions to disguise themselves as vengeful ghosts. Certainly, nothing could go wrong.

“If the wanker is collecting vengeful ghosts, why don’t we disguise ourselves as vengeful ghosts to lure him in?”

As bad ideas go, Charles was king. He knew that, Edwin knew that, even Crystal knew that after only knowing him for a short period of time. But, even he could admit with time and the power of hindsight, that this was probably one of his worst ideas to date.

“Charles, that might be one of the worst ideas I’ve ever heard,” Edwin said crossly from where he was seated behind the big solid oak desk.

“Okay, hold on, slow your roll,” Crystal said, holding a hand up to forestall the rest of what Edwin was about to say. “None of us have any better ideas, so let’s just hear him out, okay?” she gave Edwin a warning look which he returned with a scathing eye roll, but Charles ignored that. That was baby level Crystal/Edwin bickering. He could ignore that in his sleep. If he did sleep, which he didn’t, seeing as he was dead and all.

“Right, okay,” Charles said, rubbing his hands together. It was his time to shine, both of his favorite people had their eyes focused on him, and he was ready to impress them both. “Like I said, this arsehole wants vengeful ghosts? Why don’t we give him some to hunt? You can plant some rumors about poltergeist activity online, Crystal. We know which message boards he’s been watching. And then I can disguise myself as a vengeful ghost to lure him in and then bam! We’ve caught him!”

Charles looked between the two of them with a grin. Edwin was wrinkling his nose like he smelled something bad, which was funny because neither of them had much sense of smell anymore and Crystal was rubbing a hand over her eyes. Maybe she had a headache. Charles thought he should probably try to get her to drink less coffee. Maybe she’d be open to switching to chai.

“Charles,” Edwin said slowly. “There is one very large flaw in your plan.”

“Just one?” Crystal sighs, taking her hands off her eyes so she could look at the ceiling.

“There is no way we can disguise ourselves as vengeful ghosts. If the sorcerer comes to our location and can’t feel a restless undead, they will leave,” Edwin continued, ignoring Crystal. “Also, why are you the bait in this scenario?” Edwin asked sounding significantly more stressed over that.

“Sure, we can!” Charles responded, ignoring that last bit. It seemed pretty obvious to him why he needed to be the bait. It wasn’t like he was going to let Edwin be the bait, that was just mental. “I just, you know, let myself get a little in my head, feel a little bit vengeful and tada! To the uninitiated I’ll look just like a vengeful ghost,” Charles finished with what he felt was his most winning smile, the one that made the corners of his eyes crinkle up in a way that Crystal had once assured him was ‘sinful’.

The silence that hung in the office after his explanation was long and loaded enough that Charles eventually let the grin drop and instead put his hands on his hips to glare back and forth between Edwin and Crystal.

“‘Feel a little bit vengeful’…” Crystal repeated, her voice dripping with derision.

“Charles, what-? No!” Edwin shouted, shaken out of whatever stunned stupor he had been stuck in by Crystal’s voice. “You can’t just-” Edwin’s long elegant hands flailed in front of his chest for a moment before finally digging into his carefully coiffed hair, sending all the strands astray. Charles wasn’t sure he had ever seen Edwin react like that before. He felt a little accomplished. It was hard to get a new reaction out of someone you’ve known for thirty-eight years.

Edwin took a deep breath and put his hands down flat on the surface of the desk. His hair was still sticking up in all directions. Charles suppressed a smile at the sight of Edwin so rumpled, but it was hard.

“Charles, you cannot just,” Edwin’s face spasmed a little and then he pulled himself back under control, “think yourself into becoming a vengeful ghost. It does not work like that.”

“I mean. It does a bit, doesn’t it?” Charles asked with a frown.

“No. It does not,” Edwin said with a much bigger frown.

“You’re telling me you’ve never gotten really mad or really sad and gone a little…” Charles grimaced and tilted his hand side to side, not sure what word would best describe the feeling of his physical form getting away from him a bit, like the floor going soft beneath his feet and his bones turning syrupy in his flesh.

“No,” Edwin bites out. “And even if I did, I would certainly never try to feel that way on purpose,” Edwin said acidly.

“It’s for the case, Eds!” Charles exclaimed. “It’s not like I’m saying we should make it our new hobby!”

---

In the end, no one could come up with a plan that was better than “become a vengeful ghost for like an hours tops and trick an evil sorcerer into coming to us”. There was a lot of shouting and arguing and by the end, Edwin’s hair was so crazy that he looked like he had put his finger in a light socket, but ultimately Charles’ very bad no good idea had carried the day.

The final plan looked something like this:

Crystal leaves rumors about a nearby abandoned hospital being haunted by a vengeful spirit that only appears at very specific times all over the web

They booby trap the hospital ahead of time with various hidden wards and barriers that they can lead the sorcerer into

Crystal, Charles, Edwin and a mirror travel to St Hilarion’s together

Charles and Edwin return to the places of their deaths to attempt to tap into their vengeful feelings

Once they are sufficiently vengeful, they use the mirror to travel to the hospital just at the time that the alleged haunting should occur

They lead the sorcerer into one of the various traps in the building

They release the ghosts and do something threatening to the sorcerer or something

Case closed

Charles was still not particularly happy that Edwin would also be turning himself into bait, but who would play the part of bait was a point that had been an especially sore spot for both of them. Eventually, Crystal had suggested that they both act as bait just to get them to stop shouting at each other.

Returning to St. Hilarion’s was also not his favorite part of the plan, less because he hated the place (although he absolutely did hate the place) and more because he would have to leave Edwin alone there. The timing was important, so they both would need to change as close to the same time as possible. Because they hadn’t conveniently died in the exact same place, they would have to split up for that part.

Charles didn’t like it but, Charles knew that if he voiced his discomfort, Crystal and Edwin would be eager to toss the whole plan and go back to the drawing board. Charles couldn’t bare the idea of letting the man they had been chasing go on hurting ghosts any more than he already had. So far as they could tell, the sorcerer was using vengeful ghosts and their powerful and volatile emotions to power his own magic. Even if they were vengeful, that didn’t mean they deserved to be used up and destroyed by some asshole hungry for power.

If Charles’ plan had a chance to work, he had to take it.

Once the bus dropped them off at the school, they walked to the mid point between the pond that Charles had taken his death blows in and the dormitory that Edwin had died in the basement of.

“This will work,” Charles assured Edwin one last time, his hands tight on Edwin’s shoulders. “As soon as you start to feel a little off, get back here, okay? Then we’ll close this case, eh?”

Edwin stared down at his hands where they fiddled near his waist. He hadn’t looked at Charles in the past hour and it was turning Charles’ stomach to knots, but he couldn’t toss the plan because of a little anxiety. It would work. He was confident.

“Yes. It shouldn’t take long,” Edwin said faintly. Then he turned abruptly, knocking Charles hands off his shoulders as he did so, and began to walk briskly across the crunchy brown grass toward the dormitory.

Charles and Crystal watched Edwin’s retreating back until he phased through the back door and disappeared inside.

“Maybe you should go with him,” Charles said uncertainly.

“Somehow, I don’t think Edwin will be able to focus if I’m there,” Crystal sighed. “Just hurry up and traumatize yourself so we can get this over with,” she added before stalking away toward the water.

With one last concerned look at the big hulking square building Edwin had disappeared inside of, Charles turned to follow Crystal.

It was the dead of winter, just like it had been the day that Charles had last went into the pond. The trees were bare of leaves, the grass was dry and dead beneath Crystal’s boots and the air puffed in little clouds as it exited her mouth. The water looked still and cold, even to Charles, who rarely sensed temperature unless it was fairly extreme.

All he had to do was go in the water and think bad thoughts. It wasn’t so hard. Charles could do it.

Becoming a vengeful ghost was nothing to sneeze at and it also wasn’t like an on or off switch. There was a sliding scale between ghosts who were very stable and those who were not. Ghosts were basically memories and emotions tied together by energy. The memories and emotions worked together to create the image that they presented to those people able to perceive them. A vengeful ghost was just a ghost that was trapped in a loop of negative emotions or memories. Often this loop would cause their outward appearance to warp, most often to more closely resemble their appearance at death or some negative perception they had of themselves.

Charles knew that he had let his appearance warp a few times in the past, by accident. He had always been a little susceptible to thought spirals, even when he was alive. Sometimes, when he was alone and his mind was wandering down dark paths that were better left unexplored, he would look down and see that his clothes were completely soaked. That was usually enough to shake him out of whatever mire of dark thoughts he had gotten stuck in. He would go find something fun to do or go find Edwin or just focus on breathing air into lungs that he didn’t have until he finally went back to looking like a better version of himself.

It wasn’t that bad. It happened and maybe it wasn’t fun, but it wasn’t the end of the world.

But, Charles still couldn’t bring himself to step into that cold water on his own.

Crystal was looking at him with sympathy in her big pretty eyes. Charles forced himself to take a breath and take a big step forward. His foot broke the water and even his incorporeal skin could feel the shock of how cold the water was. Or maybe he was just remembering.

Either way, once he took one step it was easier to take the next, and the next, and the next until he was in the water up to his waist and shivering.

Charles closed his eyes and he was back there. He wrapped his arms around himself and he felt himself shivering with cold. He took a shaking breath and he could hear his old mates shouting at him, hear the splashing of the water as rocks broke the surface around him. His next breath was ragged, almost a sob. His stomach hurt, the pain so intense he almost felt sick. Yet, he had lost all feeling in his fingers and toes. That was bad, probably. It was too cold to be outside and wet. He needed to run, needed to get away, needed to-

“Charles!” Crystal was shouting his name in his ear, her small soft hand tight on his shoulder and turning him around.

The sight of Crystal shook him out of the trap of his own memories. She wasn’t there that night. If she was there, then he wasn’t still back then.

“C-c-crystal?” Charles stuttered, his teeth chattering too hard to get through her name on the first or second try.

“Shit,” she spit, her eyes huge and terrified in her pretty round face. “Okay. Out. That’s enough. Out of the water,” Crystal demanded, putting her arms under Charles’ armpits and physically dragging him out of the pond.

“Y-y-you’re w-w-wet,” Charles chattered, his wet clothes quickly soaking through her own soft t-shirt.

“You really have no room to talk right now,” Crystal grunted as she tossed him onto the dry dead grass right beside the mirror that she had abandoned on the bank.

“Fuck!” she shouted, stomping her feet and trying to wring the water out of her clothes. She was wracked with fine shivers as well, completely soaked from her ribs down. “This is such a goddamn! Awful! Idea!” she shouted at the sky.

“S-s-sor-sor-” Charles stuttered.

“Shut up!” Crystal shouted at him. “Dammit, where the fuck is-” Crystal cut herself off with a shriek so loud that it echoed off the treeline back at them.

Charles scrambled to his feet, his numb limbs barely obeying him, his legs feeling fawn weak. Somewhere in his mind, he still expected his old mates to come running at him and Crystal from some nearby hiding place, fists and rocks ready to finish what they had started.

What Charles saw instead was Edwin, or what he thought might be Edwin. It was a boy about Edwin’s size, with skin as pale as Edwin’s and hair as dark as Edwin’s. But, he was so incredibly caked in blood and burns and viscera that it was hard to make out any other features.

“I’m here,” the boy who might have been Edwin said, in a blank empty voice. The voice sounded like Edwin’s, soft and a little high, even if was breathy and barely above a whisper.

“Oh, god,” Charles groaned, stumbling toward Edwin. “Mate, w-what-” he stumbled over his words, his eyes roving over Edwin’s face. His nose, usually straight and perfect, was split in the middle, a deep gash right across the bridge that leaked thick clotted blood down and his face and over his lips. There was blood everywhere, in his hair, dried into his eyebrows, caked into the curves of his ears.

It looked like he might have been in pajamas or something like them. The clothing might have been white once, but it was burnt and dirtied and bloodied and it was hard to tell what the original color was underneath.

Everywhere that Charles looked at Edwin he found new wounds. His arm was broken, his stomach was slashed, there was shards of glass in his leg. His bare feet were blistered, at least two toes completely missing. To make matters worse, his injuries kept shifting. The second that Charles dragged his eyes away from one part of Edwin’s body to look at the next, the injury changed. Missing toes became broken ankles became a completely missing foot.

“Jesus,” Crystal sobbed from somewhere behind Charles. He could hear her gagging, but if felt like it was happening far away. He felt like he was at the bottom of the ocean with just this broken wraith of his best friend, trapped with the consequences of his own actions, in his own awful version of hell.

“Charles,” the boy who probably was Edwin said faintly. He pressed his hand to Charles’ cheek and his hand was tacky with blood. His thumb was missing. “You’re cold,” he said.

“Fuck,” Charles sobbed, tears he hadn’t realized were gathering in his eyes spilling down cold blue cheeks to wash some of the blood off of Edwin’s fingers.

“Nope, no, fuck, I’m not doing this,” Crystal said, grabbing both Charles and Edwin by their elbows and pushing them. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but she had an excellent sense of direction, because she shoved them right into the mirror. “Get that fucker and then go back to normal, you dickheads!” she shouted through her tears as Charles and Edwin fell through the mirror.

---

In the end, catching the sorcerer had been easy. He was drawn to Edwin and what he had dubbed his ‘vortex of pain and suffering’ like a moth to a flame. It had killed Charles to sit Edwin down at the end of a hallway and ask him to stay there, but it had worked. The sorcerer had walked right across one of the wards that Edwin had drawn on the floor in that very hallway hours ago and was trapped.

Charles had swung all the way around from terrified to fucking pissed by that point and took great pleasure in smashing his cricket bat into the man’s face over and over before smashing all the glass vials full of vengeful ghosts that he carried with him onto the dirty tile floor.

Spirits had run screaming in all directions, but it didn’t miss Charles’ notice that none of them got within spitting distance of Edwin.

Then it was over. The sorcerer was bleeding a lot, but Charles still felt like a ship at sea and an evil man’s suffering was too hard to hold onto and care about. All he cared about was Edwin.

He had stopped walking a while ago, the motions that the living went through to move felt far away. He floated to Edwin and collapsed by his side against the wall. Charles felt insignificant and empty, like a boy made of tissue paper that someone had breathed their sorrows into. He pressed himself up against Edwin and at least he felt solid and real.

He looked down at Edwin’s feet where they pressed into the dirty floor. They were pale and narrow, the knobs of his ankle sticking out below the hem of his pants. Charles didn’t remember Edwin having bare feet in hell. Somehow that felt like a big injustice, that someone would drag Edwin out of bed without his shoes and socks, let alone the full outfit that he wore to face the outside world like armor. Someone forced Edwin to walk into hell itself with his pale pretty feet exposed and that seemed like the kind of injustice that Charles would happily kill for.

“I’m sorry,” Charles murmured, barely more than an exhalation.

“Whatever for?” Edwin asked. His voice sounded stronger, but still sort of dream like. But, maybe that was just Charles. Everything felt like a dream a little bit just then. He felt so unreal.

“I hurt you,” Charles whispered after a moment.

Edwin took Charles’ hand in his. Edwin had beautiful hands with long deft fingers and carefully shaped nails. Charles could see Edwin’s hand through his own, which seemed wrong, though Charles couldn’t exactly put his finger on why.

“You would never hurt me,” Edwin said with surety.

Charles looked toward Edwin and Edwin tilted his head to look back. It occurred to Charles then that Edwin had much less blood on his face than he remembered. The cut on his nose was back, but it was much smaller and no longer bleeding down his face. There was still some blood crusted around his hairline and ear, but otherwise his face was clear of injuries. Edwin’s hand wasn’t hurt either, all his fingers and toes were accounted for.

“I made you look like this,” Charles said, squeezing Edwin’s hand in his and reveling in how solid he felt. Charles felt certain just then that if he could just hold onto Edwin, he wouldn’t float away or break apart.

“No,” Edwin said, frowning faintly. “A lot of other things and people hurt me before I ever met you, Charles. That’s why I look like this.” Edwin glanced down, looking at their joined hands, Charles’ blue fingers looking more solid every second that Edwin held them tight in his own. “I trust you completely, Charles Rowland. You would not hurt me.”

“Oh,” Charles said. He looked into Edwin’s eyes as they turned back to him. He looked so sure, sure enough for both of them. “I feel the same,” Charles said, gratified to see Edwin’s eyes widen a little at that.

Then, he sighed and pressed in closer to Edwin. He felt good and solid and the closer Charles got to him the more good and solid he felt. They stayed pressed together until Crystal finally found them huddled together, two dead boys in their school uniforms, not a hint of blue or blood between them.

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