#Bell Chime Timer

[a-pastel-edgelord]

Shinsuke Kita is a man who likes what he likes and gives little thought to things he doesn't. He'll go about his daily routine: rise with the sun, eat, morning ablutions, out to the fields until lunch, take a break, then back into the fields until dinner, do chores around the house then a small past time or two until it's time for bed. Unless it's the weekend or a game day, then he goes to Onigiri Miya to catch up with Osamu, Gin, Akagi and Omimi around lunch time.

However, he finds himself going to Onigiri Miya a little earlier on some days with the hopes of catching you while you're on shift. You're a part-timer and university student—but Osamu has been telling him that you have the chops to run the restaurant by yourself. "I know I don't hafta worry about leavin' for an hour or so. S'good feeling, Kita."

It's easier to like someone if a friend vouches for them. Yes, that must be the reason he's fond of you, because Osamu is. He arrives at the restaurant an hour early—an electronic bell chimes through as he enters. It's busy as usual but there's no line.

"Welcome!" You look up from the register and beam. "Kita-san! I'll call the boss over, he's in the back doing inventory."

Before he can protest, you've bounced away. He hears a muffled conversation the opening of a door and a moment later Osamu takes your place with a raised eyebrow. "Yer awfully early, Kita. S'not delivery day is it?"

"Nah, nothin' like that. Just... Had some spare time."

"Spare time huh." Osamu repeats, like he's tasting the words for the first time. "Well, did ya want anythin' ta eat? The usual?"

"Sure, that'll do."

"Uh-huh." Osamu leans back to shout into the kitchen. "Go ahead and make Kita his usual!"

You respond in a sing-song voice. "Already started!"

Shinsuke can't help the grin that hitches onto his features even as Osamu casts a wary but amused eye over him. The two men make eye contact for a few beats before Osamu sighs. "Please don't go scarin' off some of the only good help I've been able ta find."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Yeah-huh."

But nothing else can be said on the subject because you emerge from the back with a tray laden with food. There's even a side of fried tofu—not typically part of his order. You must have seen him looking because you hurriedly explain, "The boss said you like tofu, so I just did some up. I hope that's ok." Osamu rolls his eyes and walks back to the kitchen, catching Kita's eye as he goes.

"S'just fine." Kita takes the tray. "But I'd like to repay ya."

"You don't have to do that! It's my pleasure." You try and reassure.

"Then it'd be my pleasure to make ya dinner some time. Could do it today, after the game if that's ok?"

As you fumble through saying yes, Shinsuke savors his first bite of food. Yeah, he could eat your cooking for the rest of his life he thinks. It would be a nice addition to his routine.

[callsign-peach]

the beanery

summary: jake goes from drinking the base’s stale coffee to bringing in cups from the cafe down the road from the hard deck, and the dagger squad is determined to find out why

pairing: established hangman x female!reader

a/n: the title? has almost nothing to do w the plot, but it’s the name of the coffee shop!!

--- Javy was the first to notice, but it was only because he had gone with Jake to your coffee shop a couple of weeks ago. He had been talking to his best friend about some plans for the newest aviators, and didn’t realize Jake had an end location in mind.

“What’s that?” Bradley asked, eyes honing in on the white take-out cup that Jake was sipping from.

“Hm?” The blonde asked, pocketing his phone and looking at his wingman. “Oh, just some coffee from that new place.”

Javy took a swig of his own Thermos to hide his smirk.

“Oh? The one near the Hard Deck? Penny said the owner’s been in a few times to ask about some tax shit.”

Jake nodded absentmindedly, he already knew this information. “Yeah, they’ve got some good stuff.”

He met Javy’s knowing eye and sent him a look, and Javy was thankful looks couldn’t kill.

Before anyone else could get a word in, Pete entered the room alongside a dozen newly-adorned Top Gun students, raring to go up in the air.

--- You heard the belle chime on the door, calling out to the patron that you’d be a moment. 

Slicing the now-empty cardboard box, you slid it between the wall and the trashcan, hoping you’d remember to take it out to the dumpster before trash day. 

Walking out into the bar, you smiled when you saw your boyfriend leaning along one of the columns in the seating area. “Hey, J. How was your day?”

“Good, you?” Jake asked, thanking you as you handed him a toasted bagel with strawberry cream cheese. You almost keeled over when you found out your boyfriend’s go-to pastry at the cafe was a plain bagel, losing it when he spread pink cream cheese over it.

“I can’t believe you go for those bagels over my croissants!” You laughed, taking a sip from the iced coffee you made yourself about half an hour ago.

“Oh, what’s that? New syrup? Sauce? Lemme try.” Jake reached over for the clear plastic cup, puckering his lips over the straw. “Oh, babe, I don’t know about that one.”

Laughing, you nodded over to the dainty chalkboard wall with the featured drink. “Raspberry vanilla iced latte. You don’t like raspberries.” 

Jake hummed, face falling when his phone chirped from his pocket. “Damn, duty calls.”

Duty referred to drinks at the Hard Deck, a weekly tradition the dagger squad kept up once they were stationed at Miramar for good.

“Don’t know why you don’t just offer to have drinks here sometime. I can make espresso martinis or whatever shit Javy’s trying to make at our place.” 

Jake chewed the thought over, pulling his lip between his teeth. “Soon, I just like having my little secret barista girlfriend.” 

Scoffing, you playfully slapped your boyfriend’s chest. “Barista? I’m a full-fledged business owner, Seresin! Get it right!”

Jake laughed, pressing a kiss to your temple with a promise to be home before midnight. --- Stopping the timer on her watch, Natasha stepped into the cool air of the newest cafe in MIramar after her morning run, thankful for the air conditioning. 

“Good morning! Welcome to The Beanery, can I get anything started for you?”

Looking at the woman behind the counter, Natasha felt like she’d seen the woman somewhere before. “Oh, um, sure. Iced coffee, no creamer.”

“Any flavors?” You asked, scooping ice into the branded cup.

“Caramel?” Natasha smiled, and you laughed and pumped some caramel syrup into her cup.

“Oh, this is so much better than the base coffee!” Natasha smiled, depositing her change into the tips jar. 

“Base? You’re in the Navy?” You asked, setting some mugs out on the counter. 

Sure am. Naval aviator, originally was only here for a quick mission a couple years ago, but I guess they thought we were good enough to stick around.”

You smiled, setting the drying towel on the counter as the bell chimed for another customer coming in. “My boyfriend’s in the Navy, I’ll have to ask if he knows you.”

“Who knows! Thanks again for the coffee!” Natasha smiled as she left, taking her time walking back to her apartment and changing into her khakis.  --- “You, too?! Man, everyone’s getting coffee at the new place!” Mickey spoke as Natasha finished off her iced coffee.

Jake looked up from where he was texting you about the chocolate pastries you were experimenting with selling. 

He saw the plastic cup he had helped unpack the weekend prior, curious if his colleague had met you or one of your employees. 

“Yeah, it’s really good, and the food looked so good! I might go after work again to grab another drink.”

“Oh, I’m coming with. I need to try this coffee if you and Bagman say it’s good!” Bradley added, tossing a ball of paper at the blond man’s head.

Soon enough, the entire dagger squad was planning a short jaunt over to your coffee shop, Jake included. --- The bell chimed and took you from your thoughts, thankful for the distraction from the pastries you were trying to laminate.

“Welcome to the Bean- oh. Back so soon?” You asked, smiling as you saw Natasha walk back in, flanked by some other Navy men. “And you brought friends? Man, my confidence is sky-high right now.” 

Natasha laughed, though she missed the teasing look you gave your boyfriend as he walked in. “Sorry, I just can’t enjoy anything. These rats always have to tag along.” 

You snorted, starting on Jake’s drink absentmindedly. “What can I get you guys?”

The aviators all ordered, but when it was Jake’s turn to speak up, you smirked. “What can I get for you, Lieutenant Seresin?” 

Jake smiled, wanting nothing more than to swipe the flour off of your cheek. “Iced macchiato, extra caramel.”

“You know what a macchiato is, right? You bitch about me pouring any milk in my coffee, they’re like 90% milk!” 

You laughed as Bradley pointed to the cup, exasperated.

“Shut up, Birdbrain.”

Silently setting all the drinks at the end of the bar, you slid Javy one of the oatmeal cookies you made earlier. “Since I was out of them last week.”

“Thanks, but you know I was just going to grab some next time I was at your and Jake’s place.”

Shrugging, you watched as Bob seemed to put the dots together, silently sipping his Americano with a knowing look.

“Okay, this is going to sound really weird, but do you know anyone on base? I swear I’ve seen you before!” Natasha said, curiosity getting the best of her. 

You smiled, twinkle in your eyes. “My boyfriend’s an aviator, maybe you’ve seen me around with him? I don’t know, though. I just moved out here recently.”

Javy coughed into his coffee, trying to disguise his laugh. 

“Who’s your boyfriend?” Rueben asked, curious.

Smile growing wider, you simply nodded towards Jake. “Jake.”

“What the fuck?” Bradley asked, jaw falling open. 

Natasha and the rest of the aviator, sans Bob and Javy, all stared at the two, heads swiveling to look at the couple. “In your locker! There’s a photo of her in there, that’s where I’ve seen you before!” 

“You keep a photo of me in your locker? Cute.” You teased, coming out from behind the bar to stand with your boyfriend’s friends.

Jake blushed, offering you a sip of his coffee. “All right, all right, yes, everyone meet my girlfriend.”

You smiled, officially introducing yourself, promising to catch up more with the aviators after you heard the alarm going off for the croissants in the back oven.

“Damn, Hangman, you did good.” Rueben clapped his friend on the back. 

“Yeah, I did.” --- a/n: i like this couple idea a lot but i cannot write it i have too many thoughts going through my head so def expect more !!!!!! send requests, chat to me about this trope at literally any time !!!

[house-of-lovin]

protect her

Tara Carpenter x Detective!Reader

masterlist

Preview: "Tara wants to go to college, study, party, make mistakes, and maybe even find love – glancing back at you with that thought. She wanted to be a normal 20-year-old, doing 20-year-old things with her older… girlfriend? Tara didn’t know if she could call you that, but you shared enough sweet soft moments with her to consider you, hers. But she couldn’t do that if she had to look over her shoulder at every creak with a startle."

Warnings: suggestive themes, mentions of violence and mature language. slight scream vi spoilers. read at your own risk.

Note: Reader is around Sam's age, so like 25 or 26. Tara being a words of affirmation girlie. Thought this dynamic would be fun to write about. I'm incapable of writing shorter oneshots ig, so enjoy 6k+ words of whatever this is lol.

Word Count: 6.1k+

The honking of horns blowing through the cool night air was muffled when you pushed the glass door of the diner open. The chimes of the overhead bell rang alerting the room of your presence but barely anyone turned their heads – save for Sam Carpenter who smiled at you.

You shuddered away remnants of the chill air off your shoulders, stepping closer to the bartop; claiming your seat in the far corner pressed up against the wall. A mug is placed on the counter before you even finish hanging your jacket on the back of the chair.

You slide into the high-top seat as the brunette pours coffee into the mug with a carafe. “Still hot, wow, I must be special.” 

“Yeah okay, hotshot. You just happened to make it in time for a new pot.” She rolls her eyes, and you hide your smirk behind the mug; taking a sip – ignoring the fact that you usually come in at this time.

“You on the clock?” She asks, leaning on her elbows atop the counter. She glances back briefly, making sure her snitch of a coworker wasn’t around to scold her for not doing her job.

It was still too early for the influx of drunk regulars and one-timers to come by, so really the only kinds of people in here were the ones who were getting off work too late to make dinner at home.

“Just got off, 16 hours. But got a new lead on a case that went cold a couple of months ago so I guess I’m doing a double. Just reviewing some notes now.” You sigh heavily, gesturing to the files and folders sprawled out on the table. 

She chuckles, shaking her head. “You work too much. You need to take a break and focus on something else outside of work. When was the last time you did something just for you?”

You roll your eyes at her mocking tone, shooting back, “Oh yeah? You learn that from therapy?”

It was her turn to glower when you remind her of the doctor visits. 

“Yeah, that’s usually the advice therapists love to give me before I actually open up – you know like they tell me to and suddenly they’re running for the hills, one by one.” 

You snort, all too familiar with the tales of her doctor visits. It took a while for Sam to open up to you; trust came sparsely these days for the Carpenter. It wasn’t until one of your frequent visits turned into you having to step in and kick a rowdy group of drunkards who were harassing Sam of something along the lines of ‘Woodsboro’ and ‘Ghostface’. It was only when you threatened the group with jail time did they relent.

Sam knew she could trust you after you sent her an acknowledging nod when the group left and went back to minding your own business. The next time you visited, she opened up; about her past, her father, her hallucinations, the attacks and the trauma that came afterward. And, how she managed to land herself in the big city, which sprouted an overzealous rant about her strained relationship with her sister.

You knew how to read people well, it was a significant part of your job to be able to. So, you knew from the moment you laid eyes on her that there was a fire behind those dark eyes that she desperately tried to douse – you had interrogated and dealt with enough people to know what the glint meant.

You were honest to Sam that you had an inkling of suspicion about the darkness in her mind – you still accepted her despite knowing her dirty secret; that a part of her doesn’t feel bad for killing Richie and Amber, if anything it felt kinda good. Sam was confused as to why you, a cop, weren't locking her behind bars at the confession. 

But, having dealt with the scum of the Earth, you can tell she was nothing like them.

It isn’t always easy to differentiate people between just good and bad, you told her when she asked.

A friendship blossomed between you two after that, bonding over similar traumas. Sam invited you to her apartment to meet her friends and sister – who all interrogated you, Mindy, most especially to make sure you weren’t secretly Ghostface. The girl had some skills in that department, you'll admit.

Coming to learn of your career and how surprisingly well Sam trusted you, the group lowered their walls bit by bit. They would never say it out loud but they felt way safer having you around.

“That’s why I don’t go to therapy.” You shrug, taking a sip of the steaming coffee; letting the heat warm your bones.

She snorts, pretending to be wiping the countertop when her coworker peeks her head out to look at you two. “You probably need it more than anyone else in this place.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” You mumble, as you flip through the evidence photos of a homicide you investigated five months ago. The pictures were gruesome, but it was just another day on the job for you. Maybe that’s why you and Sam got along more than expected.

Sam’s phone vibrates from her back pocket and she fishes it out, reading the text.

‘We got into some trouble, some help?’ it was Anika, no doubt being appointed to text Sam because the others didn't want to do it themselves.

“Dammit.” Sam sighs, already taking off her apron to leave.

“What’s up?” You raise a brow at her panicked expression.

“My sister and her friends got into some trouble. I need to get them. Crap! They’re all the way in the East Village.” She says reading the other incoming texts on her phone. “This is what I get for letting her go out.”

“Come on, I’ll drive you.” You say, already standing when Sam mentioned Tara. The thought of the brunette in trouble makes your heart stop for a moment.

“No, I can’t ask you to do that. You’re working.” She shakes her head in protest.

“Carpenter, it’s a 30-minute drive just to get to the East Village, get your ass permission to leave then meet me at my car. Acting like Danny wouldn’t have my ass if I just left you like this.” You mutter, acting indifferent – but it was true, her boyfriend would have your head on a stick if you ever left Sam high and dry, not that you would ever.

She nods, knowing she won’t win this one with you. You throw a $20 tip, slip on your jacket, and make your way back out into the cool fall air.

You lit a cigarette to pass time as you wait for Sam – leaning against your car, trying to ease the nervousness raging in you as you think of what kind of trouble Tara found herself in.

You and Tara are... complicated. You two haven't exactly slapped a label on it, all you know is you care about her more than you probably should.

Because of your close connection with Sam, and how much everyone secretly trusted you. You and Tara found yourselves growing closer to each other with each visit to their apartment.

Tara was weary about you at first introduction, ignoring that you were ridiculously attractive. She can still remember Mindy asking you to your face 'Where did Sam find you?' in a flirtatious tone. You just chuckled and explained how you met her sister, and Tara knew it was kind of wrong, but she couldn't help but be intrigued…

Then Sam started leaving you two alone in the apartment to run some errands. With not much to do, Tara decided to pop a horror movie in to watch with you – finding out you’ve never seen ‘Se7en’ after inquiring if your job was just like the movies.

A connection between you and Tara blossomed from those moments in that tiny NYC living room.

Suddenly she wasn't just your friend's little sister and man, is she magnetic.

She educates you on the joys of horror movies and you watch every single one, listening to her analysis of each scene; simply enjoying the serenity she brings out in you.

Tara is secretly glad you are older than her because sometimes it meant you’re so different, but that just means she can expose you to her interests, and vice versa. You never turned her down – no matter what it was.

On the slim chance you got off work early enough, you visited the diner to keep Sam company and do some work.

Sometimes though, when Sam would end mid-morning, you two would continue your talks at her apartment – sometimes with Danny, over whatever leftover diner food she would steal from her work for you three to munch on over beers and conversation. 

Those would be the nights where you would pass out on their couch from drinking and Tara would finally come out of her room when Sam and Danny leave. She would tuck a blanket over your sleeping figure, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, taking the time to scan your features for any injuries. And in the mornings, when you were gathering your bearings from a night of drinks and bad choices, Tara would force you to sit down at their dining table and have breakfast with her. Scolding you for your irresponsible choices, but being grateful you were in front of her, nonetheless.

She worries for you with your job and all.

And as you find yourself giving into her request for morning coffee, stolen kisses, and conversation – you push away thoughts of being late to work as you find yourself grateful for similar musings the longer you stare at the pretty girl across from you.

“Wow, if people couldn’t tell you're a narc. They sure could now.” Sam takes the time to poke fun at you – pulling you out of your daydream. You look down at your figure; sporting a button-down shirt, trousers with your leather jacket on top and trusty leather boots on your feet.

You roll your eyes in realization and flick away the cigarette bud, yanking the car door open.

“It’s the work dress cod– just get in the damn car, Carpenter.”

– – 

The usual thirty-minute drive instead took fifteen minutes as you pounded on the accelerator, flipped the sirens on, and dashed past other cars on the road as they cleared the way for you.

You arrive at the corner of a lower Manhattan intersection, the East Village was known for its bustling nightlife; you can see a mix of all ages of people wandering the street as they continue their bar crawl.

It was further down the road, where you can see six sullen-looking figures sitting on the curb of the sidewalk – a police officer standing above them. 

Sam dashes out of the car before you can even finish parking. You see her run down the street and talk to the officer, getting in his face and the six others look at her panicked. You sigh, and make your way out of the car, strapping your badge to your belt – you’d need to use it soon, you’re sure.

Tara’s eyes immediately connect to you as soon as you climb out of the car. Before she can think about it, she’s standing up to meet you. “Ah ah, I said sit down! You better listen or I’ll throw you all in jail for the night.”

“You can’t do that!” Sam shouts, stepping closer to the police officer. You decided enough was enough when you saw the police officer resting his hand on his holster.

“All right, that’s enough.” You grasp Sam’s elbow, yanking her away from the police officer. The older Carpenter is slightly startled by the rough tug, but you push her behind you getting in between her and the policeman.

“I think we’re all good here officer, thank you.” You say with finality. You weren’t asking, you were telling and Tara’s inebriated mind is all hot and bothered. 

“Like hell we are, these six were caught sneaking into a club underage, and this one.” He points to Sam, “is getting on my nerves. Now, it seems like I can add you to the list, ‘cause who the hell you think you are, buddy?”

You briefly glance a stern side-eye to Tara at ‘club and underage’, she immediately looks away.

“Detective Y/L/N from the 99th precinct.” You slide your jacket aside to flash him the badge on your waist.

”And, you must be… Officer Leroy. From 6th, huh.” Reading his name tag and badge.

“Think that’s supposed to mean something?” You see his eyes on your badge before glowering to meet your eyes. “I’ll arrest you too.”

The group breaks out into loud protests.

You chuckle knowingly, “How long you been in the force buddy?” You ask, not unaware of all of the eyes on you as you and the officer have a stare-off.

“Four months.” He answers confidently, pushing his shoulders up and back to appear taller.

“Hmm… see I had a feeling. ‘Cause, my buddy Rivers just got promoted to Captain six months ago over on the 6th precinct, which means he’s most likely your superior. I wonder what you’ll tell him as to what charge you picked us up for. ‘Cause well, he will see me.” You shrug, offering up that thought for him to think about. 

“Oh better yet, I’d just love to see what you write down on that case report, Officer. Leroy.” Your tone was harsh now as you stepped in his face, intimidating him.

He was forced to take a step back as you got in his space, his features paling, it took a few seconds before he conceded. “Fine! Just get the hell out of here, and don’t let me see you again!”

Everyone let out a relieved sigh as you smirked at his submission; everyone immediately takes the chance to leave and Sam tries to tug on your arm but you were still staring the cop down. He put this hand on his fucking gun when Sam got in his face and anger was quickly rising in your veins – you were unmovable, even by rough force.

“Y/N it’s over, let’s go.” Sam tries again but she can feel your arm harden as your knuckles tighten into a fist. “Y/N, seriously.”

Tara sobered up by the time police charges was being thrown around and her worry about your protectiveness was increasing. Sam couldn’t even pull you away. Chad steps in when Sam asks for help to convince you to move. He puts a hand on your shoulder, whispering calming words, no doubt. 

But nothing was working as you stood there, still unmovable. She wouldn’t be surprised if Chad threw you over his shoulder and dragged you away, even though you weren’t that much smaller than him. In your boots, you were nearly at his height and Tara had to strain her neck to try and meet your eyes. 

It was only when Tara pulled away from Quinn and Mindy’s hold and stepped in front of you, putting a hand just above your chest that you blinked, glancing down at her. “Y/N, let’s go… please.”

When you tried to glance back up at the other officer, whose partner had seen the commotion and tried his own efforts in calming him; his patience thinning by the second – was when Tara’s grasp on your shirt firmed, making you look back at her own stern eyes.

"Let's. Go." Her tone left no room for argument. Warning you from doing something stupid and you clench your jaw, looking away from the uniformed officers.

“Fine…"

Everyone slowly releases a breath when your rigid posture relaxes. “I’m driving you home, let’s go.” You exclaim to the rest but look directly at Tara, “Especially you, Carpenter.”

You place a hand on the sliver of her back and Tara shivers not used to being this close to you in a while. Your hand keeps its place even as you both turn and Sam is immediately on her ass about sneaking into a club. You guide the bickering sisters to walk to the car, zoning out the familiar sounds of their argument.

“–ou’re lucky Y/N was at the diner, who knows what that creep would’ve done if we didn’t drive out here in time.” Your hand tightens, subtly bringing her closer to your side at Sam’s words, Tara glances over when you do.

“It was fine until you got there and started overreacting, Sam.” Tara rolls her eyes, way past just ‘over’ Sam’s overprotectiveness. The younger girl loved her sister, she did, but she didn’t want to live her life constantly looking over her shoulder.

Tara wants to go to college, study, party, make mistakes, and maybe even find love – glancing back at you with that thought. She wanted to be a normal 20-year-old, doing 20-year-old things with her older… girlfriend? Tara didn’t know if she could call you that, but you shared enough sweet soft moments with her to consider you, hers. But she couldn’t do that if she had to look over her shoulder at every creak with a startle.

Sam scoffed offended, “Are you kidding me right now?” And you sigh because you can feel a bigger fight brewing and you can hear the slurring in Tara’s words, not a good mix. 

“Let’s get you all home first before we do this, okay?” You cut in when you see the car come closer into view. Fishing for your keys, you throw them at Sam making her catch them. 

“Walk ahead and start the car for me, please?” You ask with a raised brow; tilting your head to gesture to Tara saying a wordless ‘i got her’. Sam relents, tightly gripping the keys and walked ahead.

Tara leans her head against your shoulder, grateful for the brief moment of seclusion as everyone else walks up ahead.

“Are you mad at me?” You glance down at her frown, before looking away. 

“No. I’m not.”

“That wasn’t very convincing. If you’re mad you can tell me… cause then I can fix it.” You feel her run her hand up and down your back, under your jacket. It made a shiver run up your spine as she continued rubbing lines on the fabric of your shirt.

“I swear, I’m not mad. A little disappointed but no, not mad.”

Tara huffs, sliding her arm off your back when you reach the car; the talk cut short. You open the car door sitting Tara inside, it was a tight squeeze but she was small. You’d sit her on your lap if her sister wasn't here. Anika did sit on Mindy’s lap though with poor Chad in the middle seat and then Tara. 

She squeezes your hand just before you shut the door.

Apparently, Ethan and Quinn elected not to go home and continue on with their night.

Sam is already sitting in the passenger seat by the time you closed Tara’s door. With a sigh, you pull your door open, sit behind the wheel and drive off to the Carpenter’s apartment.

– –

Sam hurriedly rushes everyone into the living room as soon she opens the door; making sure to quadruple lock it, twist the handle to make sure it's locked and look out the peephole. It was Sam’s routine whenever she got into their place.

“Come on, let’s go, sit down.” Sam waves at you all, walking to the kitchen to grab water for everyone.

You help Tara onto the far edge of the couch, sitting her beside Mindy, who sat beside Anika. Chad decided to choose a record to listen to get rid of the tense air.

You felt Tara pulling you down with her, “Let me sit on your lap.” She mutters only to you.

“We can’t,” You whisper in her ear, slightly shaking your head. You hear her huff when you refuse her and see the pout on her lips when you pulled back, slightly smiling at her adorableness.

You force yourself to walk away from the younger Carpenter; heart tugging firmly, wanting nothing more than to wrap her in your arms, especially after not knowing what kind of trouble she was in.

Instead, you make your way into the kitchen to help Sam with the water bottles and bread.

“Is this necessary, Sam?” You ask the brunette, who was frantically searching through the fridge on her knees.

“You kidding? Chad is literally just staring holes at the record player.” She rebuttals and you glance back at the younger boy in amusement.

With a chuckle, you say, “He’s just high as shit. He’ll come down soon, plus he’s here now, they all are. Just relax and take a deep breath, man.” You remind her in a serious tone, holding out a hand to hold all the water bottles she was passing off to you.

“I know, I know. I was just worried.” She follows your advice taking calming, deep breaths as you follow along with her. 

“Your therapist would be so proud, Samantha.” You tease smugly as she scoffs, hitting your leg from her position on the floor – you kick her back.

“Can you make sure Tara drinks and eats something, and that she’s okay before going to bed?” Sam asks you in a hushed tone, although she didn’t need to. The other four were all too engrossed either in the music or the TV in the back. 

“Why me?”

“She’s not ready to talk to me and I’m not either... and I just wanna sleep right now.” She admits with a plead behind her eyes and you nod with no hesitation. 

“I'll make sure all of them make it to bed, don’t worry.” She nods appreciatively, then stands so you can both get back to the other four in the living room – tossing them some bread.

“Finish that whole bottle before going to sleep, I don’t care if you piss your pants while you do ‘em.” You say in a stern tone while throwing the bottles, then sitting on the armchair to Tara’s left.

Sam shares a look with you as she slips out of the room, wordlessly, leaving you with the other four. They watched TV for the next 20 minutes, glancing around as each of them got progressively tired the more time ticked on. 

“Alright. I think it’s time to call it a night.” You call it.

The twins and Anika slowly got up, muttering goodbyes and promises of texting Tara once they’d made it home. You offered to drive them to their dorm but felt the silent conversation between the friends – as Tara got them to turn you down to get you to stay here with her. 

You lean against the front door, watching as the trio made their way down the stairs until they were out of sight. As soon as you shut the door closed, you felt arms wrap around your midsection – making you turn around.

“I missed you,” Tara mutters against your chest making you chuckle when it slightly tickled. 

You cup her jaw, making her look into your eyes. “I missed you too, baby.”

Tara melts at the term of endearment, grabbing your neck to pull you down for a long searing kiss. Lips slotted over one another as they found the familiar grooves of each other’s mouths. Only breaking apart when Tara confessed with a bated breath, “You looked so hot confronting that other cop.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm…” She mutters connecting her mouth to your neck, peppering wet kisses there. She can hear you sigh in satisfaction and it makes her hold on you tighten even more. But with great reluctance, you pulled away from Tara; who whimpered in protest.

“We can’t, babe.” You remind her, pointing with your head to Sam’s room.

She frowns, “then come to my room.” Problem solved. She smirked devilishly, tugging you toward her room; you refused.

“We still can’t. You’re drunk and I’m not taking advantage.” You whisper, only stepping close to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She groans letting her head drop to your shoulder as your hand played with her hair.

“I hate that you’re a goodie two shoes.” She mutters making you laugh.

You tilt her head up with the hand already in her hair – gaze intense as you whisper, “I can assure you, I am far from a goodie two shoes.”

And Tara thought she melted at the way your voice dropped an octave when you said that but she knew she melted when you leaned down, tugging her by the hair, to connect your lips.

It was barely a peck, all tender and fleeting.

When you pulled away, she smirked knowingly watching as your eyes traced a path from her lips to her eyes – your gaze all dark, lustful. When your eyes connect you dive into her with a hair-raising kiss; all hungry and pining.

The feeling of your tongue clashing against hers and sounds of soft moans sends time stopping like only you and her exist in this apartment together. But Tara knows it doesn’t really stop and she has to eventually pull away before she takes you in the hallway – right then and there.

“God, you drive me crazy,” Tara whispers against your lips.

“So do you… cause sneaking into a club, really?” You ask unimpressed and Tara immediately pulls back, groaning.

Snickering as you follow closely behind when she walks into her room, trying to get away from you.

“You’re a mood-killer.” She mutters sitting on her bed, arms crossed over her chest; sulking.

“And you’re gonna give me and Sam a heart attack soon.” You joke but it was true. Tara loved to prove her sister wrong; not like being told what to do. It grew a defiant attitude in her that loved to stir shit up just for the hell of it, and that landed her in some hot waters with her friends sometimes. She definitely made your blood pressure sky-rocket, sometimes too.

“Why?” Tara probes. You were always so elusive and mysterious – it came with your job and allure. She can barely get you to open up about your feelings most of the time, saying you prefer to show her than tell her. You definitely did, so this admission from you was new. It has Tara yearning to hear more words of affirmation from you.

“Do I have to spell it out for you? I care about you, dummy. I nearly caused multiple accidents just to get to you. I was going like 80 mph the whole time,” You admitted, scratching the back of your neck a little ashamed.

“You were really that worried?” She asks, looking up at you with a hopeful stare like she was surprised.

“Of course, I was Tara. I even used the siren lights.” You shake your head at the fact that she’s even asking. 

She was smiling goofily as you walked closer to stand between her legs, taking both her hands in yours. “I worry for all of you. But you, well, I always worry for you 'cause I’m thinking about you all the time.” You confessed in a whisper in her dark room. 

Tara bites her lip, staring up at you with an indecipherable look. “You’re the worst.” Was the words that left her mouth.

“What, why?” You ask laughing.

She lets go of your hands to fiddle with your shirt buttons, muttering, “‘Cause you’re standing here looking all good and saying all the right things, and you still won’t fuck me.”

“Oookay…” You chuckle, grabbing at her fingers trying to unbutton your shirt, “That’s enough from you tonight. Let’s get you to bed before you say anything else you might regret tomorrow.”

She huffed but allowed you to grab her some new clothes to help her change; still not fucking her, Tara complains. Your eyes never even strayed from hers, not even when she took her bra off to change shirts and batted her eyes seductively. When she was all ready, you helped her to bed; tucking her in.

“Stay with me?” She asks grabbing onto your shirt, then gripping tighter. “Please.”

“What about Sam?” You ask softly, pushing away some hair from her face.

“She’s probably already sleeping, if not, she’s gonna be in her room all night.” Tara reasons, fully tugging you on top of her. 

You give in like you always do.

Work for you and classes for Tara have been a lot right now, not being able to find time alone. You were practically living at the police station with the crime surge in the city, working late nights and long hours. With Sam’s overprotectiveness, Tara can say goodbye to dates so she only really sees you when you come over with her sister. You take your jacket off, place it on the chair in the corner of her room and tug your boots off. Remembering you had a change of clothes here from when Tara ransacked your closet; you picked out a shirt and shorts before getting into bed beside the younger Carpenter.

She was on you in an instant, swinging a leg over your waist, shoving her face in your neck. You feel her exhale a calming breath, once she’d settled into a comfortable position on you. You reciprocate by wrapping a strong grip around her waist, cherishing the way her skin warmed yours and how the weight of her body felt perfect.

“Just stay with me until I fall asleep?” She asks you with such a vulnerable gaze that you would never dream of ever telling her no.

You nod, pressing a kiss to her lips, then forehead. “Of course, pretty girl. Goodnight.”

She smiles against your lips, whispering her own, “goodnight.”

As you hold Tara Carpenter in your arms, you find yourself fending off sleep, only ever being this relaxed around the girl. You squeeze her slightly, feeling grateful to be with her at this moment with all the craziness in your two’s lives. No worries of outside-world problems could break the cozy bubble you and Tara created. Without ever standing a chance, you lose the fight to sleep and easily fall off the precipice with her in your embrace.

– –

“Tara, do you have my nail polish – Oh this is cute.”

You spring up, the voice startling you from the most relaxed sleep you’ve ever had; the type that makes your entire body heavy and head foggy when you wake up. You were the lightest of sleepers, a pin drop could probably startle you awake, but never when you fell asleep beside Tara.

“What the fuck?” Tara grumbles against your side, peaking her head up to see Quinn watching you two in bed.

It took you a few seconds to realize where you were and instantly pale when you realize you never left the Carpenter Sister’s apartment, you never even made it out of Tara’s bed. You can feel the stream of sunlight coming in from Tara’s window and just know you had majorly fucked up.

“I just needed my nail polish but this is quite a sight, definitely a pleasant surprise.” She waves a hand toward you two, and you roll your eyes.

“Shit babe, Sam.” Tara places a hand on your arm. You check the watch strapped on your wrist for the time, 10:32 AM – making you leap out of her, oh so warm bed.

“Screw Sam, my Captain is gonna be on my ass until next year if I don’t get to work now. I was late about two hours ago.” Grumbling, you yanked Tara’s closet open and grabbed the spare trousers and button-down, you stowed in there.

"Can't say I blame your Captain." Quinn retorts, heavily eyeing you as you change your shorts into trousers.

Tara groans at the mess this morning has already been, flopping onto her back.

“Screw Sam, huh?” She appears, leaning on the threshold just behind Quinn, crossing her arms over her chest.

Your hands stall on the tie you were tying as you hear your friend’s voice, making you turn around.

“I guess that’s a no on the nail polish?” Tara glares at her roommate. 

Quinn shrugs, still ogling as you changed before turning to leave the room. “Not a wasted trip though, nice catch Tara.” She winks at the brunette – holding a thumbs up.

The redhead just laughs, moving out of the way when Tara attempts to throw a pillow at her.

“Sam… I’d love to explain but I am so late for work right now.” You plead at the older sister.

Tara sat on her bed wordlessly, unsure of what Sam’s reaction is going to be – but ready to defend her relationship with you, regardless.

Sam chuckles shrugging lightly, “I already knew. Or well, I had a feeling, but this just confirms it.”

You and Tara look at each other at her confession, unsure if Sam’s words hold positive or negative connotations. Sam sees the eye-contact and laughs.

“I’m not mad, I promise. I was a little hurt that you didn’t tell me…” She pauses, “okay. I was really hurt when you guys didn’t tell me. But I realize I haven’t given Tara reason to trust me with anything about her life lately.”

That makes Tara’s head perk up at her sister’s admission. All she’s ever wanted was for Sam to trust her a little because trust went both ways in every type of relationship.

“And well, I guess I can’t think of anyone better to be with my sister than my cop friend. Especially after you came through for her last night. You were driving so fast, I thought I was gonna die.” Sam laughs a little but you’re still unconvinced.

When Sam realizes no one was still talking she chuckles again. “Guys, I’m serious!”

You cough clearing your throat, “Sorry Sam, it’s just that... I–uh,” 

Tara decided to cut off your stammering, “We’re just surprised, Sam. We thought you'd be more upset. And that we were more subtle.” She admits, shooting you a look.

“You weren't. But, I thought a lot about what to say until I realized it was just you guys and I care about you two so much. You don’t think I noticed Tara being a lot happier than usual and you actually looking somewhat at peace?” She asks rhetorically, reading you and Tara to filth – your cheeks reddening, not being used to being at the other end of the ‘questioning’.

“I see how you look at each other. I know you’ll protect her.” That last sentence she says looking at you and it means the world to get her approval – something that you didn’t even know you wanted, you nod at her appreciatively.

Sam pushes herself off the doorframe, tapping on it. “Now come on, there’s breakfast in the kitchen, don't let it get cold. And Y/N, I don’t think you’re gonna make it to work today.” She winks, leaving you and Tara alone in the room.

You didn’t say anything for a few seconds, unable to find words to describe what just transpired in the span of a few minutes. Then you hear a scoff bring you out of your reverie.

“What the hell was that,” Tara commented, getting up from the bed and closing the door before approaching you. 

“I’m… not really sure. I can’t tell if I’m still asleep.” You mumble, grabbing at her cheeks to make sure you weren't in a dream. Tara whines against the pinching, swatting your hands away.

You laughed at her frown before leaning down to kiss her slightly chapped lips, all soft and slow. Tara pulls you closer by the neck, sighing against pressed mouths. A sweet moan escapes her mouth when you suck down hard on her lip, releasing it with a loud pop. 

“You think I should call in sick today?” You whisper, running a gentle thumb to soothe her swollen lip.

Tara nods, eyes half-open still a little dazed from your kiss. When she gathers her bearings, she runs a hand down your half-done tie, tugging you closer. “Definitely.”

"You can tell me more about how worried you were and how fast you were driving too," She whispers against your mouth, using your tie as a leash.

"Are you turned on right now?"

"Kinda... can I drive with the sirens on?" She slides the question in like it was nothing.

"No."

"Buzzkill." She teases but pulls you on top when her back hits the mattress. “I’ll make you change your mind.”

You definitely forgot to make that phone call.

The rest of that morning was spent in between Tara’s sheets, you two hidden away from the world; ignoring the flurry of texts and calls from your work phone. Only leaving her room to grab some food and water, but getting caught in the crossfire of teasings from Tara's friends when they see the hickeys on your neck.

Tara merely strides past you, dressed in nothing but your button-down, stopping for a peck on the lips and grabbing the water from your hands before hiding back in her room to ignore her friends. You don’t miss the cheeky wink she tosses you and the grimace Sam lets out as she watches. Instead, you keep your head down and follow the smaller girl like a lost puppy, ignoring the other's whistles as you do.

And, when you make your way to your desk the next day, a mountain pile of shitty cases for the next month is stacked high as punishment.

You still find it hard to feel any remorse for the no-show.

It was definitely worth it.

– –

:)

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part V

Thank you as always to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading for me, you're the best bb!! ❤️❤️

Hello everyone!! This chapter is going to be a little more plot/lore heavy. But, we still get some sweet and flirty boys. IV brings Reader dinner and II is becoming more comfortable in his flirting. Thank you so much for reading, if you would like to be added to the tag list let me know!

WARNINGS: None

Part IV - Part VI

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

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

Today was one of those times where your store was absolutely slammed. "I'll be right with you Jay, just give me one second." You clap the older man on the shoulder as you round the counter.

"No worries darlin', I got all day." He smiles cheerfully at you." You hurriedly set a fresh batch of coffee to brew, quickly cleaning up the station.

"Next batch will be done in about ten minutes guys." You smile as you pass by a tow of your usuals, a group of old timers that would set up shop at the shelf along one of the windows and spend their day drinking cups of coffee and playing scratch tickets.

"Now Miss (Y/N), don't you go running off, I got a vibe to pick with you young lady." You skidded to a halt, turning in your heels to face the myriad of curious stares.

"You better make this quick Randy, I got a line out the door." You huff with a sarcastic smile.

"I just want to know what you're doing hanging around with those cultists." Your eye involuntarily twitched as he spit out the word. "I'd just hate to see you get mixed up in that crowd."

"They're nice boys Randy." You hurry up to the counter as you continue to call over your shoulder. "It might do you some good to actually get to know them before you try to crucify them over nothing.

"Why don't you try inviting them to the Fall Festival?" Jay asks gently.

"Unfortunately I don't think they'd go. I know it's hard to believe but they're just as nervous about you as you are about them." You explain with a huff.

"I think it's worth a shot at least." He leans in a bit to whisper to you. "Now I can't speak for everyone obviously, but I think if the townsfolk actually got to meet them and see that they're not some big ol' scary monster in the woods… well, they might just come around." He offers his advice with a patient smile. "If you're saying they're a good group of guys I trust your judgment. Your word means a lot more to me than some blood thirsty reporter after a story."

"Thanks Jay, I'll ask them. Who knows, maybe they'll show up." He bids you farewell before leaving you to tend to the rest of your sea of customers. After what felt like an eternity your store was finally empty. You groaned, slumping over the counter. The cool linoleum felt nice against your sticky skin. You jolted up at the sound of the bell ringing above the door, eyes flashing over to reveal II and IV looking at you curiously. "Hey guys." You give them a tired smile.

"Everything alright, love? You look exhausted." II approaches the counter, his eyes full of concern.

"Yeah, just a long day." You explain. You sit down in your chair, resting your elbows on the counter. II copies your motions, his eyes searching yours, his nose just barely out of reach from bumping into you.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" You shake your head in response.

"You boys are already too good to me as it is." You giggle as II playfully rolls his eyes. "I'll be alright, just gotta do some quick cleaning before I go upstairs. Then it's a cup of ramen cause I'm too lazy to cook and shitty movie re-runs until I pass out on my couch."

"A cup of ramen isn't a meal, doll." He tuts.

"I know that, doctor." He chuckles at your sarcastic tone. "I'll be alright, one night without a proper dinner isn't going to kill me."

"I wish we could come help more around here, I hate seeing you so tired." IV chimes in, dropping an armful of snacks on the counter.

"I appreciate all your help, but I promise you, I'll be just fine." You respond with a reassuring smile. Neither of them seemed satisfied with your answer but they could tell you weren't in the mood to argue.

II sighs, "just promise me after you finish up here you'll go get some rest."

"You have my word." You chuckle. The two of them finish their shopping, idly chatting with you as you do some cleaning up. "Goodnight guys, get home safely." You wave as they head out.

"I better not come back here and see you exhausted tomorrow." II warns playfully.

"I'll try my best." He winks at you before pushing out the door. IV wishes you goodnight before joining his companion.

You collapsed on your couch with a groan once you finally made it upstairs. Despite how much you were trying to convince yourself you weren't hungry your growling stomach said otherwise. You lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling, when suddenly the familiar rumble of a pick up truck pulls into the lot. You stood, walking over to the window and pushing the curtain aside. You saw IV fumbling with something in his passenger seat before kicking the door open. You met him at the back door, he froze when he saw you standing at the top of the landing with a smirk spread across your features. "I, uh, I brought some food." He offers bashfully.

"Come on up IV." You chuckle before heading back inside. IV steps into your apartment, eyeing you curiously.

"I'm sorry I showed up without an invitation." He apologizes. You smile, taking a couple steps closer to him.

"You're welcome here anytime." He breathes out a laugh as his eyes dart to the floor. You offer to take the food for him, setting up a spot for the both of you on your couch. "I am curious, how did you manage to get fast food without raising any suspicion?" You ask as you pop a fry in your mouth. IV chuckles in response, adjusting to sit more comfortably.

"It's a funny story actually, I pulled up at the drive through and the kid working there told me he liked my costume." You laugh.

"Really?" He nods. The thought of the Fall Festival popped into your mind; how you would love to bring the four of them because you know they would have a great time, how it would give them a chance to see the town for what it really was, and of course your little crush on the charming masked men didn't help either. "IV, do you think Vessel plans on ever going into town? You know, aside from you guys making supply runs under the cover of darkness." You joke.

"If I'm being completely honest, I don't know." He pulls his mask away from his face to take a sip of his drink. "I'm the newest of our little group so I can't give you the whole story, but from what I understand up until we reached here things weren't too great. There's a lot of people out there who want to get rid of us before they even have a chance to get to know us. We've been run out of town after town, sometimes through more… humane means… other times not so much. But, we have something good here, with the camp in the woods, with you." He pauses for a moment to smile at you. "That's something I want to try and hold onto for as long as I can."

You study him for a moment, "what if I tried to help?" You offer. "I could be the middleman for you. People in town know me, I grew up here, that has to mean something. I just… I don't want you to have to constantly be worried about someone being out to get you. I know that if they met you, if they got to know the people I know you are, they wouldn't be afraid anymore."

"I'm sure Vessel would be interested in hearing you out. Who knows, maybe you'll actually convince him." He chuckles. "Between you and me, if you bat those pretty little eyes at him, I'm sure you could convince him to do just about anything." He jokes as he shoots you a wink.

"I bet that line works on all the girls, huh?" You giggle, trying to shake off the heat that had settled in your cheeks.

"As long as it works on you I'm set." You playfully smack his arm. He nestles back into the couch cushions, letting out a soft groan as he stretches an arm over the back, the back of your neck buzzing as you feel his warmth seep into your skin.

"You're all a bunch of flirts." You smile at him.

"A bunch of flirts?" You roll your eyes at his mock annoyance. "It's not my fault that you're so captivatingly beautiful." You noticed that growing familiarity in your chest. The steady thrum of your heartbeat as you tried to hide your flustered state. IV leans in closer to you, his side pressed flush against your body. "Once I met you I understood what they were all fussing over." He chuckles before muttering, "the perfect being brought to us by Sleep." You turn to look at him, his hazy blue eyes coaxing you in deeper with every passing second.

"Who's… who's Sleep?" You whisper. IV tilts his head, a curious expression matching yours. The pieces must have clicked together because he returned to his usual smiling self a moment later.

"You'll find out soon, Vessel's probably waiting for the right time to explain." You accepted his explanation without a fuss. You trusted that if it was something you needed to know they would tell you. He glanced up at the clock, "I'm sorry to cut things short, love, but I should head back." You nod, standing and walking him over to the door.

"Thank you for bringing some food." You smile.

"Anytime." He responds with a wink. "Get some rest, alright? II will throw a fit." You both shared a laugh before IV reached out and pulled you into his arms. You froze at first, not fully comprehending that he had wrapped you in a hug. But, the moment realization set in your arms slipped around his torso. Neither of you were in a rush to let go, the two of you standing in a comfortable silence as IV held you close, gently swaying you from side to side.

"Goodnight, doll." His hand lingers in your hip, taking your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze before slipping out the door.

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

Tag List: @spookyghostjelly @herripinkle @thepoisonedchalice @themultiverseofmars @saturnhas82moons @wingsofeternitysstuff @creamwhxre @itsyagirl-snowflake @bookishpenguino @m0cha-bunny @coreofpleasure @madsthenightowl @dangerkitten1705 @rainy-darling @shad0wcast @amara-among-the-stars @venuswinnyix @dontpercieve-me-pls @ripleyswife @thepityscene @lipstick-and-lycanthropes @vmpirekiss @savaneafricaine @mustluvecho @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe (I think that's everyone, if I missed you or you would like to be added please let me know!!)

[harleehazbinfics]

Learn more about you Cannibal chef! reader m.list | Author profile

Word Count: 512 A/N: Hello, lovies! Been so long since I updated. But hey! I came back to also say I graduated woohoo! Nothing permanent yet, I don't want to get your hopes up with daily updates like I used to since I'll be looking for a job now, omg. But, I'd love to hear requests from you. I honestly don't know what more I should add to Cannibal Chef!Reader. I'm out of creativity lmao. THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR HOLDING OUT THIS LONG! MWAH!

"Good morning, Miss Rosie!~"

"Y/n! Sweetheart! Here to take your order?"

"Yup!"

"Here ya go. Looks like a big order. Did something happen?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. So, Sir Alastor was in a good mood, and we went to eat at a restaurant in the circle, but the food was so inedible that Sir Alastor had to spit it out in public. Something, I've never seen him do honestly. Then after we bumped into the Vees and got into a bit of a scuffle with them. After making it back to the hotel, Sir got splashed with alcohol right in the face," you mutter, awkwardly laughing.

"Well, that's one hard day he had there. You gonna make him something then?" she asks flashing you her sharp teeth.

"Mhm! I was thinking of making hotpot or a casserole. He must be famished after such a tiring day," you smile.

You then hear the bell tower chiming then whipping your head to see the time.

"Well, that's my cue. I'll see you around Miss Rosie!" you called before leaping from building to building.

"Take care, dear!"

You arrive at Alastor's room where you hear the bathroom door close and hear the rushing water after. You nodded to yourself as you walked to the kitchen he conjured just for you and tied your hair back to prep your meal.

After leaving it on the stove with a timer on. You strolled back into the living room and picked up Alastor's drenched clothes into the laundry chute for you to deal later. Of course, not before you took his handkerchief and took a whiff of it. Eyes drawing into hearts that in delight.

Amidst your happiness, the handkerchief got tugged away and thrown into the chute along with the rest of them. Alastor stands behind you, still dripping with water from the bath. Chest bare-naked and red shorts around his waist, and his towel on top of his head as his hair stuck on his forehead.

"Come on now, if you wanted one you could have just asked, sweetheart," he says with a smirk before pinching your pouting face.

He turns away from you and sinks into his favorite chair with a drawled sigh. You compose yourself and slowly walked beside him after.

You pursed your lips and pouted, "You just don't understand the smell fresh from the source, Sir Alastor."

"Oh, believe me. I know the feeling," he chuckles, waving his hand as shadows appear under you and lifted you onto his lap. He embraces you and sniffs from your collar, as you stared at him with shaky heart filled eyes as he stares back with his half-lidded ones.

"I-I never knew you were this cheeky, Sir," you stutter under your breath nervously. Your hands on his chest while he purrs under you snuzzling closer and closer.

"There are many things you don't know yet," he mutters as he grazes your neck with his teeth then his eyes flicker from your neck to your eyes and asks, "Would you like to learn?"

"I'd love to." <3

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[mystar-girl57]

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲, 𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : Dealer!Ellie Williams x Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Ellie has come to learn that she has fucked up, now the question is, how does she undo it? - wc 2.0k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : cheating, implied sex (not between reader and ellie), angst, feels, mentions of being drunk, depression symptoms

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 : i fucking love writing angsty ramble scenes

Your first reaction to seeing Ellie there was not what Ellie had hoped for, you jumping into her arms letting her apologize to you for all the wrong she had done. Instead it was you standing in the doorway and just slamming the door. Or you tried to anyway but Ellie being her determined and upfront self put her foot in the door to catch it, swallowing the holler of pain that threatened to escape from her throat.

“Please just give me five minutes to explain what happened please!”

You tried to close the door but the gentle hand on your wrist made you look up. “Please,” She whispered. “You don’t have to take me back, just let me say my piece.” You tried your best to stand firm and force the door closed but the way that Ellie looked at you, begging you, you couldn’t help but fold.

You inhaled sharply but backed up from the doorway, letting the door swing open fully. Ellie was surprised by the invitation, she had always known you to be stubborn and surefooted, not letting anything or anyone sway you no matter how pitiful of a display they put on. This worried the auburn girl, had she broken you so badly that you even lost that part of your personality?

She followed you down the short hall and into the kitchen where you snatched the egg timer off the stove and twisted it to the five minute mark. It started to tick and you slammed it down on the butcher block between the two of you. “You’re on the clock. Go.”

Ellie gulped feeling the pressure start to rise. When she had said she needed only five minutes she meant it as ‘let me start talking and it lead into five hours’ but no, you were serious.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath willing herself to not talk too fast from nerves. If the way you were dressed in just her shirt didn’t make her nervous enough, the glare you had on your face did. “We were at the party, I was high and drunk and I know I never drink that much. We- or well no I was alone you were with Dina and Jesse in the house. I was passing out prerolls and Seline walks up—” “Seline?” You raised a brow, feeling sick hearing the name, let alone hearing who you considered to be your lover say the name. “Yes. Seline, blonde, uh boobs? Shit no forget that part—” Ellie was rambling at this point, anxiety taking over. She hated how stupid and desperate she looked trying to explain to you what happened that night. And from the look on your face she knew that it wasn’t working.

The egg timer was down to thirty seconds and Ellie was still going on about Seline. “And then she came back to my place and I wasn’t thinking and the entire time I thought it was—”

‘ding!’

The egg timer’s bell rang out, the quiet chime sounding to sound like a gong echoing out. That was it, that was Ellie’s chance at reconciliation and she blew it. She couldn’t bring herself to look at you and hearing your sharp inhales,she almost broke down right there. Ellie wanted to fall to her knees and hug your waist, pleading into your stomach but her knees stayed locked. Standing there in silence, the auburn haired girl knew that she needed to leave before you forced her out.

Ellie made herself look at you and what she saw broke her heart. You stood there, one hand gripping the hem of Ellie’s old tee, the other over your mouth to keep the tears in and the sobs down. Tears started to blur Ellie’s own eyes and a lump formed in her throat. She had promised you when the two of you started dating that she would do everything in her power to not hurt you, on purpose or other. And here the two of you were all these months later, standing in your dark kitchen at 3:00 a.m. Ellie having to explain why she cheated on you.

She took a slow step to you making your body tense up but you couldn’t make yourself move. Ellie gently cupped your cheek, thumbing your jaw. You were so close, you could just fall forward and you would be wrapped up in one of your favorite hugs. Ellie’s hugs always made you feel so safe, she could be intimate without being sexual, she could be possessive without being controlling. All of her hugs and touches had so many underlying meanings that were meant for only the two of you. But the thought of Selines’s body under or on top of Ellie, connected in a way meant for you two made you refrain.

Ellie pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, “Just give me some time babygirl,” she whispered her nose against yours. “I’ll figure it out.”

It wasn’t until Ellie had pulled away and the dorm’s front door closed, the lock clicking that you let out the sobs you had been keeping down. You were angry, anxious, and upset. So many negative emotions wrapped into one little body making you feel like you were going to explode. Without really thinkinking you kicked the trash can beside you making it fall with a clatter, its contents spilling out on the floor. Your breaths were quick and shallow, your knuckles slowly turning white from how tight you had balled your fists.

A little voice, peeking its way out in your mind among all the red anger you felt told you to believe Ellie. Believe Ellie when she said she didn’t know what happened, that it was unintentional. What she said did make you a bit confused however. How could Ellie have gotten drunk? One, she’s a heavy weight through smoking, drinking, and two she never drinks enough to get tipsy as she said during her rant. If Ellie wanted to space out for a bit, lose touch with reality she’d just like a joint and relax.

You knew there was more to the story that she was trying to explain and maybe you should have given her more time to explain but in the moment you were just too upset and confused to go after her. What’s done was done and now future you would have to deal with it.

“And then I left.” Ellie sighed looking down into her hot chocolate. She watched as the whipped cream melted into a smooth, rich forth into the dark drink. The warm steam hit Ellie’s face as she was prompted to focus on the chocolate rather than look at Dina’s face.

It had taken lots of convincing but Ellie finally got Dina to come out to Jitters with her so she could try to explain what happened. The two hadn’t had a proper conversation since the morning that you discovered Seline in the dorm. And not only was Dina Ellie’s roomie, she was her best friend, her confidant. She was lost without Dina.

When Dina didn’t say anything Ellie nervously tilted her gaze up from the mug to the woman sitting across the table. Dina was contemplating the information that Ellie had just relayed to her, what she had wanted to tell you. “And did you say any of this to her?” Dina asked finally. The dealer hung her head back down letting it shake side to side signifying that she had not.

“She had me on a timer.” Ellie muttered, making Dina raise a brow.

“Timer?”

“I told her I just needed five minutes to explain and she took it literally, had that deviled egg or whatever it is timer set to five minutes. I had hoped she’d let me come in and sit and so we could talk it out for a few hours.”

Dina scoffed while taking a sip of her coffee. “Well you’ve obviously forgotten who your girlfriend is. She is stubborn.” She pointed the mug to Ellie, “Like you.” Ellie rolled her eyes, “Y’know you’re not being a big help here. I’m trying to get her back, not push her away even more.”

“Shouldn’t have cheated then.” Dina deadpanned, making her roommate let out a groan and flop against the seat.

Ellie pulled her burgundy hood over her eyes wanting nothing more than to disappear. All the woman could see when she closed her eyes was the look of betrayal on your face that morning, followed by the fear when she grabbed you and the hurt in your eyes this morning. It was safe to say that Ellie had fucked up. Even Joel who Ellie had called for advice on the situation said that she fucked up. Now she was questioning how to fix it.

Ellie laid back on her bed with a sharp sigh. It was lonely without you she had come to learn, the silence was so loud. She didn’t know what to do, she had gone through her social medias, mindlessly scrolling through the endless short videos of dancing and tutorials to stalking your instagram feed. She looked at the various pictures that you had posted, most were of the two of you, some with you and Jesse screwing around at work and others were of the equestrian team you used to compete on.

Ellie chuckled, coming across a picture of you and your horse. The memory showed you squishing your face to Fisaco’s, the horse glaring down at you. That day you had to give the large buckskin a bath and Fiasco, true to his name, was raising hell the moment you turned that water on. She remembered having to be held back by Joel as you tried to get the horse to sit still, she was terrified for you. But to Ellie’s amazement (and relief) after a few minutes of back and forth pulling from both sides, Fiasco finally settled and let you run the hose water along his body while he happily munched on carrots and sugar cubes

She turned off her phone and held it against her chest. Ellie didn’t deserve you, she knew that every moment she had with you was a miracle in itself and she took it for granted. She should’ve put an end to the looks, the touches and flirts the moments that they started. The moment you said something she should’ve made it stop.

‘Should’ve made it stop.’

Those words kept floating around in Ellie’s mind. They were scribbled out in her journal beside doodles of you and broken hearts, etched on crumpled up pieces of paper which had now been haphazardly thrown around her overflowing trash can.

Ellie had truly lost herself these past two weeks, her room was trashed, her hair greasy and clothes sweaty. She had lost any interest or motivation in taking care of herself. That was something you had always done, texting her little reminders to shower and clean up if you knew she was swamped with astronomy homework. Most times though you would just show up and lay on her bed in the background to give her emotional support.

Letting the silence wash over her mind, Ellie almost succumbed to sleep. But then,

‘Thap’

‘Thap’

‘Thap’

Someone had to go knocking on the fucking door.

She ignored it.

‘Thap’

‘Thap’

‘Thap’

Ellie knew it wasn’t you, you would’ve let yourself in with the key she gave you, calling out saying you had brought whatever fast food place you found on your way home from work. It wasn’t Dina, that wasn’t her knocking pattern, and she too would have a key.

So who the hell was knocking at this hour?

The knocks came again and Ellie rolled off her bed with an annoyed growl. “Yeah, yeah, hold your fucking horses im coming.” She flung open the door making it hit the wall beside her with a loud thud.

“What the fuck are you doing here.”

🏷️: @flo-solerdiaz378 @ellieseater @l0v3e1i @sl-ut @hebrokeimup @siesie2 @yookayyo

© 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫-𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝟓𝟕 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐬

[givemeonereason]

My Blue-Eyed Master: Part 1

Part 2

Photo credit: here

Rating: 14+ (I know that this will gradually have more mature content in further parts.)

Plot: A handsome new customer comes to the cafe. What could go wrong?

A/n: This is the introductory piece to a short series I'm hoping to work on.

I was greatly inspired by watching "Maidsama" recently and loved it.

I was thinking, we all know Gojo would be living it up in a maid cafe. Lots of sweets, lots of women to fawn over him. Seems like the right place for him to be right?

While listening to this.

╒══════════════════════╕

Bells chimed when the entrance door opened.

A tall, well-dressed, white-haired man stood by the door wiping the rainwater off his shoes on the 'welcome' rug.

"Good afternoon, Master!" Three women in maid cosplay called out to him sweetly. Each of them walked up towards him to vying for his attention.

"Good afternoon." His smile was bright. He looked at them over the top of his dark black sunglasses. His bright blue eyes almost making one of the girls faint.

The girl who almost passed out, proved to be uneasy and weak in her knees. Being held up by the other two. You stepped in, not so easily swayed by his masculine wiles.

Your tone was not as nearly as high-pitched and cheery as the other girls. "Right this way Master." You didn't even look over your shoulder at him as you walked towards a table at the far end of the room. You set down a menu. "Please make yourself at home." And you walked away without bothering to pay him any mind.

"Oh my god, he's so handsome."

"I wonder if he's single."

"It's as if the gods sent us an angel."

You stood near the back preparing a teapot for another table. The roll of your eyes almost gave you vertigo.

"Ladies!" The matron of the cafe warned. "Please keep your voices down."

The girls who were huddled at the prep counter grew quiet. Only two of them were whispering amongst themselves about the mystery new client.

June, the co-owner of the cafe continued, "There are rules we place to protect you girls. Please make sure you follow them as well." She looked over at the man they were all gushing about. "No matter, how handsome or how charming, you never truly know what a person is capable of." She looked back toward you and the girls. "I've been in this business for some time and have seen my fair share of things to shock me." You have always loved how sweet and protective June was. She became like a loving aunt that you never had.

You've been working at Cafe Sakura for five years. You took the job as a part-time gig while you were in college. Low profile enough to not run into anyone you knew. But it served another purpose, which provided a confidence boost for you. Growing up you were never really seen as conventionally beautiful and you were picked on by the popular girls at the time. So being able to work in a place like this worked wonders on rewriting those negative inner monologues.

People were very kind to you while you've been working there. The regulars are respectful. Sure, there are some douchbags who are there especially to live out demented wet fantasies. But overall, it's a great place to work, and why you've been there for so long.

You dropped off the tea pot to a nearby table sharing pleasantries before you stopped back at that man's table with a glass of water. You were staring down at your small notepad, the fairy charm hanging from your pen jingling as you jotted down the table number. "What can I get for you, Master?"

He didn't answer at first, he was looking at you, waiting for you to look at him. Unfortunately for him, you only sidestepped near him, looking and pointing down at the menu. "If you're unsure about what to get for a first-timer, I suggest a slice of cheesecake." You grabbed the menu from his hands and flipped it over. "Any of these sauces or combinations can be used."

Still, he remained quiet, looking at you taking in your features. His eyes darting across your face, to the end of your hair, to the buttons on your near your collar, to your fingers wrapped around your pen. It was in the shape of a lobster claw. He started to chuckle. He lifted his hand to his lips to try and conceal his laughter.

"What?" You were so annoyed with this guy. It kept getting worse and more worse.

"So I take it you like seafood?" An eyebrow raised, he's looking between you and the red pen in your hand. His bright blue eyes showed over top the rim of his rounded glasses.

When you caught his eyes, you looked back down at your notepad. "Where would you get an idea like that?"

His hand so gently bent over, his finger pointing towards the claw.

Your eyes are furrowed. What is he up to, god almighty! You look down at your uniform checking for something that would give any indication of your meal preferences. That's when he stood up and walked towards you. He towered over you. He's taller than most men who frequent here.

The other ladies were gasping and cursing you under their breath. How they wish they could be you in that very moment. Close enough to taste his cologne....You rolled your eyes. They wouldn't mind tasting it. However, you, on the other hand, have had enough of his charade.

He took his glasses off with the swagger of man who can afford to buy several new pairs. Seeing his blue eyes in full view was so striking. Maybe you can use those glasses to shield yourself from the glare.

"I'm talking about your pen." He reached out and plucked it from your fingertips. He pulled it up and inspected it, giving it a solid click for good measure. "I just assumed one would be a seafood fan if they so blatantly paraded around with such a token."

Innermost sighhhhhhhh.

You snatched the pen from his hand. "I would appreciate it if you did not touch my things, sir. There are rules in place at this establishment and if you cannot follow them, I will have to ask you to leave."

All of your coworkers raced towards you. The girls fawn over the man, the matron pulling you by your elbow towards the back. "Y/n, what have I told you about talking to the customers like that?"

You cross your arms across your chest. "You're the one who created the rules. Some of them are strictly unspoken rules. He shouldn't have done that."

June closed her eyes. "He shouldn't have done that. And I don't take very well to anyone intimating my girls."

"...I wouldn't call that intimidating..." You added before she continued.

"If he would have put his hands on you I would have definitely thrown him out." She turned to you. "Focus on other patrons. I will have one of the other girls take care of him. If we're lucky, he might never come back."

A blessing, I'm sure.

You walked out from the back room and reached down into the front pocket of your maid cosplay. The lobster claw pen was buried down in there, but you pulled out a generic pen with a local business's address and phone number on it.

You could hear the girls giggling when they talked to that guy. His sultry voice charmed them as they served his cheesecake you so obviously suggested to him. Their breathy attempts at "master" were followed by him with a sweet "miss" and a wink.

It's disgusting how men prey on innocent girls. Good-looking, charming men are the worst of the worst.

A few of your afternoon regulars showed up and made the day redeemable. It's not always a bad day. There isn't always a bad customer. It's rare in the time you've been there. It does happen.

You thought on it, that guy wasn't that terrible. It was just you hated how forward people were sometimes. You work at a cosplay cafe, it should be expected. Men come here to live out their own fantasies. Women enjoy these experiences as well. It's just that you're more likely to run into a pervert than anything.

He just grabbed your pen is all. And he can't help that he's tall...and handsome. He was born that way, right?

Nonetheless, you might never see him again.

Possibly for the best.

Besides, you really do like that pen. It was the last gift your grandfather gave to you before he passed away. Silly as it is, it was a gag gift, but it's special to you. It's a way for you to think of him. Both your grandfather and you are just a little bit crabby. Ha!

.....to hell with that guy.

Damn it all.

Damn his beautiful eyes, damn his sexy voice, damn his gorgeous hair, damn his charisma, damn the way his clothes hug his body.

damn. that. man.

╘══════════════════════╛

© 2024 givemeonereason

Don’t steal other people’s works! Respect creators!

Reblogs and likes appreciated :)

[nonclassyparty]

seasons out of time - part 2 (teaser 2) (C.S)

You don't see San for eleven days after that (but who's counting?) and you dodge Yunho's messages for no other reason besides the fact that you're avoidant to the core and run away from your problems.

So, now, you're standing behind the counter with Hongjoong by your side as you're both trying to soak up the rare instance of peace in the afternoons at the shop as you clean up the coffee powder spilled onto the lower counter while Hongjoong messes about with the cash register.

The bell by the entrance door dings again signaling an incoming costumer and both Hongjoong and yourself look up out of habit by now.

You press your lips firmly together once you see San enter and walk up to the counter with determination written all over his features. He might look determined but he also looks...not too well, dark circles under eyes that were rimmed red and messy hair slightly damp from the snowflakes he caught on the walk to your shop.

All in all, San looks exhausted.

He comes to a stop in front of you, eyes filled with a certain fire that catches you by surprise for a quick second before you quickly recollect yourself.

You lick your lips, "What can I get for you?"

San's features darken for a split second as you utter the question, jaw clenches and for the first time, he looks properly angry at you.

To your utmost surprise, he doesn't say a word to you but instead, slides a step to the side to stand in front of Hongjoong who awkwardly raises his head from the register.

You watch in pure confusion as San gives him a cracked smile, the same dimples showing up on his pretty skin and Hongjoong glances at you before clearing his throat.

"Uh, yes?"

No matter how tired and devoid of sleep he looks, San's smile is charming, always was. "Excuse me, I saw the sign at the front that you're looking for a part-timer."

You think you stop breathing as you watch San tilt his head at Hongjoong. "Uh, yeah, we are. A part-timer..."

You swear San's pretty smile widens at that and your hands clench around the kitchen towel. He glances at you, almost smugly, before turning back to Hongjoong; "I'd like to apply."

"No, you wouldn't." The words are out of your mouth before your brain can even catch up to them.

San looks positively pleased as he turns to you, giving you a look of fake confusion that makes you clench your teeth. It reminds you of the time you first started working for him, when he would call you "new girl" and poke fun at you with sarcasm dripping in his voice. Smug bastard. "Oh sorry, are you the supervisor here?"

"You're not applying here." You tell him in a firm tone although you really have no right in deciding any of that. You are Hongjoong's employee.

San opens his mouth again, eyes dancing with some sort of mirth but gets interrupted by Hongjoong's cough. He slides next to you;

"Uh, we haven't really...had anyone else apply except for that Junseo kid and I'm pretty sure he's addicted to crack." Hongjoong says in a hushed whisper and your eyes fall shut in annoyance before they flutter open again.

San chimes in again, "I don't smoke crack!"

"San, you're not applying-"

San, on the other hand, completely ignores you and gives Hongjoong another employee-of-the-month worthy smile again. "I'd like to apply."

You throw the kitchen towel on the counter in fury and stomp your way around the counter towards him before grabbing him by the wrist and dragging San, who has a dumb, stupidly endearing look of surprise on his face, through the kitchen and then the back door of the coffee shop to the small alley behind the shop leaving a flabbergasted Hongjoong standing behind the counter.

As soon as you're engulfed by the cold air you throw his hand away and angrily (maybe a bit too dramatically) turn to confront him.

"What do you want?" You spit out and San hesitates for a moment eyes roaming over your sweatshirt.

"You'll catch a cold like this-"

"What. Do. You. Want." You repeat, wagging your finger at him to punctuate each word.

San sighs, features softening in a way that makes your heart squeeze but you'll blame it on the cold, "Just to talk. That's all I want."

"I already told you; I don't want to talk." You let out a groan, rubbing at your eyes and probably rubbing off the little mascara you coated your lashes in this morning. "Why is it so hard for you to take 'no' for an answer?!"

He frowns, looking like you've just insulted him. "I can take 'no' for an answer just fine but I'd appreciate it if you'd hear me out first. I just want to explain myself properly, I know that back there was wrong," He motions to the door, referencing himself just applying for a job where you work, "But it was the only way you'd actually look at me properly and speak more than six words to me."

Something inside of you warms up at that, which isn't right, you shouldn't be this close to him right now but...it's been eleven days since you've last seen him. A part of you, buried deep under all the pain and all the memories, was scared that he won't come around anymore and that you won't see him. That he really had enough of your bullshit and gave up.

Deep, deep down somewhere where all your other little secrets that you would never allow to admit to yourself reside; there is a little one which says that you don't want him to give up. You want him to keep trying, keep coming, keep begging. 

You sniffle, the cold causing your nose to run easily and cross your arms over your chest as you just your chin out at him. "Well, go ahead then. Talk."

San stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket, shifting from one foot to the other as the adorable, devastating pout you've grown used to appears again.

"Well, I can't talk now...you're angry."

"Wha-" You scoff out a laugh, looking to the side in utter disbelief as you mutter to yourself. "This is so fuckin' stupid."

His frown only grows and you're pretty sure he's never even aware that he's pouting. "It's not stupid, I'm serious. You won't take anything I say into consideration right now because you're mad."

You open your mouth to tell him off again but once again, you know he's kind of right. If he says something to get your defenses to crumble, you won't ever let it show because you started the conversation while being angry and in your head, that's the way it should end as well.

What is wrong with you?

"Yeah, I'm angry, San, and I have a job to get back to so either say something or leave." You loudly exclaim, body slightly shivering from the cold that's starting to affect you.

San seems to just stand there for a prolonged moment, thinking about something before his brows jump up and he shuffles out a small piece of paper out of the pocket of his jacket before taking a hesitant step towards you and pulling out the pen out of your apron. You take a step back when he gets the pen, feeling like he got too close. And of course, he notices.

"If you would meet me here...Tomorrow at....seven?" He starts to speak, scribbling something clumsily on the piece of crumbled up paper, "We could talk...properly." San clears his throat, handing you the crumbled up receipt with what you assume is an address of some sort scribbled on it now. "Obviously, you don't have to show up. I'd love it if you did because I'd really like to talk to you but...but if you don't, I'll take it as your answer, Y/N, I'll take it as a 'no' and I won't show up again. Promise."

You stare at the folded up receipt in your hand before stuffing it in the back pocket of your jeans.

You don't know what to say now, San is still standing just an arm-length away from you, peering down at you with his pretty eyes filled with sweet desperation, looking like he's thinking of something to say just to be able to talk to you for a little bit longer and you can't stand it for much longer.

"I have to get back to work." You mutter, eyes falling to the snow covered pavement at your feet.

He sighs lowly, his mouth turning downwards as his eyes fall, "Alright."

You turn for the back-door again before he calls your name, voice softer this time, "Please...consider it. Please."

You walk in without another word.

[anne-chloe]

Trust Me | Five |

Jareth/Goblin King x F! Reader

Summary : As Sarah's next door neighbour, you're often Mrs Williams' last resort as a babysitter. Sarah had never liked this, but she can be extremely unreliable at times. One stormy night, Sarah grows frustrated with her baby brother and babysitter, resulting in saying a phrase that she later wants to take back. Now, you are stuck in The Goblin Kings realm with little hope to returning home again, unless Sarah can reach the castle and defeat Jareth in time.

The sound of a bell chiming pulled you back into reality.

Your eyes snapped open and you pulled yourself away from Jareth. He slowly opened his eyes, his smirk still very present, a smugness about him. You tenderly brushed your fingers against your lips, feeling a tingle and a spark, and it left you wondering what the consequences of kissing The Goblin King would be.

You glanced around the room and spotted a clock. It ticked away, as if the moments before didn't matter. You blinked, now noticing a sand timer sitting in the window.

You gulped nervously. "What's that for?" And why is it nearly empty?

Jareth joined your side, his arm sliding around your waist, pulling you close into him. You didn't dare to struggle against him, but you did tense and become rigid at the action. He didn't seem to notice, and if he did he simply ignored it.

"It's for the runner in the Labyrinth," Jareth explained coolly, now pointing to the land behind the Goblin City. You could just about see it through the mist, and from what you could tell, it was large.

That must be the way out. Through the Labyrinth. It looked as though you'd have to navigate through the Goblin City first, but you figured it would be straightforward as long as you refrained from making any unnecessary detours. Then, you'd reach the Labyrinth itself and search for the way out—and finally you could return home.

But someone was already in the Labyrinth. And their timer was running out. What would happen if the timer ran out?

You looked to Jareth for answers. "Who is it?"

Jareth smirked down at you, but he refused to elaborate. You felt a chill run up your spine. Whoever it was, you prayed they'd finish Jareth's vile games before they ran out of time.

"What happens when it does run out?" You asked, "do they lose the game?"

"They become additions to my Kingdom. They become Goblins."

Who would be brave enough to challenge The Goblin King like this? In fact, why would they want to challenge The Goblin King in the first place? The mere thought of living forever as one of these Goblins, it made you shiver in fear. Living under Jareth's cruel rule for all eternity; that wasn't a fate that you desired to seek or challenge.

"How does someone become a runner in your Labyrinth? Are they wanting to leave your Kingdom?"

Jareth tilted his head back and sighed loudly. You blinked at his obvious annoyance, and flinched as he then directed his gaze back to you. It was clear he was trying not to show his irritation by your many questions. But you were curious about the area of his world that you might need to venture through in order to escape.

Jareth slipped his hands around yours, now holding them to his chest. You tilted your head in curiosity at what he was about to say. "This person made a wish, and they wanted to change it," he vaguely explained, and you felt indifferent to the way he deliberately missed out details. "I gave them 13 hours to complete my Labyrinth or face the consequences of becoming a Goblin."

Only 13 hours? Seeing the size of the city and Labyrinth made you feel as though 13 hours wouldn't be enough. Plus, even if it was, you knew Jareth wouldn't play fairly and would create obstacles for the runner to face, which would ultimately slow them down. It didn't seem right, but you knew Jareth must have done this deliberately with full knowledge that his rules weren't fair.

But this then encouraged the question of how many people made wishes with The Goblin King. You had never heard of him until Sarah recited that line from her book, and until you were whisked away you only believed that he was fictional. It made you wonder how many people had attempted the Labyrinth in hopes to reverse their wish, how many people regretted ever making a wish to The Goblin King.

You had made many wishes before. You'd thrown pennies into wishing wells, you'd wished with closed eyes upon a shooting star, you'd blown out birthday candles and wished for something. Did that mean you needed knowledge of The Goblin King, and to direct your wish to him, for it to come true? Or did he only select those wished that meant he'd gain another Goblin in his ranks?

But for wishes to come true like this, the person making the wish had to mean it. Right?

Or did The Goblin King obey the wishes made to him created out of jest?

"You've made the whole thing nearly impossible for someone to get through, especially in 13 hours," you mumbled, feeling a deep sorrow for the unfortunate person trying to navigate by themselves.

Jareth snickered, his hand gently stroking your hair. "Nearly," he emphasised. "It's entirely possible to complete my Labyrinth in 13 hours. You just need to know how to do it, and who to trust."

You stayed quiet, eyes falling on the sand timer, which continued to deplete with every passing second. You felt terrible for the fate of the runner, and more so curious about the wish they made and the repercussions it had caused.

You took a step away from Jareth, causing his arm to fall back to his side. You lowered your gaze to the floor, avoiding his mismatched, hypnotic eyes.

Jareth watched you curiously as you shuffled over to where Tobey lay fast asleep, sleeping on his side, his thumb hanging loosely from his mouth. You knelt in front of the throne, your fingers gently stroking Tobey's soft head.

Despite hating the idea of spending the rest of eternity trapped inside The Goblin Kings castle, you couldn't help but feel relieved that you were still here to protect Tobey. All you needed was time and patience in forming an escape plan, and then you'd be able to return home to where Tobey would truly be safe.

"You cannot escape from here."

You froze as Jareth's voice cut through you like a knife. You slowly turned your head to look at him over your shoulder, dread quickly settling back in. You briefly wondered if he could hear your thoughts, and that very idea frightened you.

"I can't?" You repeated, almost in a whisper. Too loud and you would wake Tobey.

Jareth only seemed amused by your response. "Only the one who made the wish has the power to reverse its effects, and only then they must complete my Labyrinth and speak the words against me."

Your heart sank at this new information. "I can't go home?" You weakly asked, wanting clarification, even though you already knew the answer.

Jareth walked closer. He crouched down in front of you, his hand lifting and tucking underneath your chin. He raised your eyes to meet his, and you watched, helpless, as his mismatched eyes held you in place.

"My dear," he muttered gently, though his wicked smile was a stark contrast. "You are home."

You felt tears form in your eyes, your vision blurring over at the thought of never seeing your parents again. You had said meaningless goodbyes this morning when they departed for work, and you left a hastily scribbled note in the kitchen to explain your whereabouts—which you were now far away from. You imagined they would be distraught when you were announced missing, they would possibly mourn for you.

As if to further injure your soul, Jareth began caressing your hair. "You have no power here," he crooned, his smile widening at the sight of your tears now rolling down your cheeks. "Sarah has condemned you to eternity with me. Tobey will become a Goblin, like his new brothers, and you will rule by my side."

You gasped as Jareth caught your tears with his thumb, now wiping them away. "Tobey... will become a Goblin?" You whimpered. You cast a despairing look to Tobey, who continued to rest peacefully, blissfully unaware of what his future awaited him.

"As will Sarah."

Sarah.

Sarah?

You frowned solemnly at this added information. "Sarah will too? I thought she was still at home—"

Jareth placed his hands on either side of your face, steadying your gaze and forcing you to look at him and only him. Your lips parted to speak, but no words came out, much to his enjoyment.

"Sarah is the runner in the Labyrinth," Jareth explained, his malicious intent reaching his eyes as he smiled so cruelly down at you. "Her progress is slow. She's wasted 8 hours already, and she hasn't even reached the Goblin City."

Jareth fell silent as he observed your reaction, loving every negative emotion that crossed your face. You let all that information sink in, now feeling worse than before upon knowing that you couldn't escape, and the 15 year old girl that you babysit was wandering aimlessly through Jareth's twisted Labyrinth.

You wished you had stopped Sarah from speaking those words before. You wished you had dedicated knowledge to The Goblin King, much like Sarah had, so you would at least possess some power to help you out. But you weren't very fond of that stuff. Instead you focused a lot on your studies; you dedicated your free time to caring for others and admiring the relationship your parents possessed.

"How long is eternity?" You weakly asked.

Jareth smirked. "Not long at all."

[sunny6677]

Lavender.

Summary:

Skid goes about his daily life in the care of his adoptive father, Kevin—though of course as always with him, shenanigans ensue.

(For whatever reason I felt strangely compelled to post these chapters on Tumblr, so here ya go)

Chapter 1: It's Spooky Month!

————

"Kid—you alright in there?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah! I'm fine, Kevin!"

Skid happily answered the muffled masculine voice outside of his door with a smile, turning in his chair as he slightly twisted his head toward the door. Sweating beneath his costume from the sheer euphoria he'd experience in a few more hours as he sat with a childish smile at his computer.

For a few moments, silence passed, and he heard Kevin let out a sigh from outside.

"Well.. if you say so. I'm going to bed, but don't stay up too late. And—take that costume off, okay? I'm still not really sure how you sleep in that thing without overheating."

"Aww.." Skid frowned. He didn't really want to take off his costume. Not now when in a few hours, he'd probably need it.

"..ugh.. okay. You can wear it."

"Yay!"

"Go to sleep soon, alright? Let me know if you need anything."

"Okay, Kevin!"

Skid heard footsteps slowly become more distant from his door, and after a while, the sound faded. Skid turned his face toward the bright screen of his computer with an eager smile, giggling to himself.

On the screen—in large text as a timer counted down, it read "TIME BEFORE OCTOBER 1ST: 2 HOURS, 2 MINUTES."

————

A bell chime rang out. A deep, bell chime from his clock as he slowly turned around in his black chair, away from his screen. Shadows coated his mask, and a smile eerily curled upon his lips. His eyes darted toward the clock, and caught sight of what it read.

"OCTOBER 1ST, 2010."

"Yes!" Skid cheered, his grin becoming a lot happier as he shook his fists. "It is the spooky month!"

Skid eagerly grabbed his phone from his desk, and practically smashed it against the arm of his chair, pressing it firmly with several more whacks until he pressed it to his ear. He heard a slight ringing sound come from the device, before a simple click came, and he grinned.

"Ayyyy!" Skid smiled.

A familiar, equally high but nasally voice chimed from the other side of the phone—"Ayyy! Were you watching the time too?"

"Yes! Are you ready for the spookiest month?!"

"Yeah—oh! I sent you something! Heheh.."

Skid swiped his screen with a smile. And as the voice from the other side of the phone had said, there was a message of a video in their texts. Pump—his friend, and the voice on the phone, had sent him this message. Eagerly, Skid pressed his thumb against the video, and let it play.

Darkness shrouded the scree—

"OOGA BOOGA—"

————

Skid ran out of his room with energy swaying in his small body, a grin visibly on his masked face as he ran through the halls. He quickly ran toward the living room, where light seemed to be seeping into the corridor from it. Kevin must have been up. He could tell him that it was spooky month!

Skid turned into the entrance of the living room, and—

"..ki—kid.."

Skid froze.

Kevin appeared to be standing there, his eyes visibly widened as his mouth hung open anxiously, and beads of sweat trickled down his face as he trembled. A red sleeved arm with red claws for hands hung over his neck, drawing a blade to Kevin's fragile throat. From behind him, there was a smiling man.. a smiling man in a red-devil mask, grinning and laughing.

Kevin shuddered. "..ki—kid.. run. Don't come over here. Run—"

"But, Kevin—it-sa spooky month!"

"..wh—"

"It's spooky month?!"

The man in the devil mask smiled more excitedly, lowering his blade as Skid nodded.

"Yeah! Here—have a candy!"

Skid pulled out a pink wrapped taffy from behind him—he hadn't know where he had gotten it, but that didn't matter. Because it was spooky month! Tossing the taffy in the direction of the large man, he quickly ran, hearing the man begin to laugh excitedly.

"Yay! Hahah—"

He saw the man begin to dance in the corner of his eye as he vanished into the corridor, and Kevin only watched with a stunned expression, slowly backing away toward where his phone had been on the couch.

————

"Mom! Grandma! It-sa spooky month!"

Skid eagerly beamed, waving his hands with a wild gesture as he tilted his head to the side. In front of him was a photo of a young woman with lilac purple hair—cascading to her back. She smiled gently at whoever took the photo, and wore a light purple shirt. And there was an old woman next to her with parted bangs, with gray hair and a light brown shirt.

He giggled, and after looking at the photo for a moment longer, he turned around and ran further into the corridor—which led to the exit of his house.

————

Skid gasped—a familiar, also masked face was outside.

"Ayyy!"

A little boy in a pumpkin mask grinning back at him waved, wearing white gloves and a simple black suit. They were both equally tiny, waving with enough energy to cast a thousand winds unto the earth.

Skid ran toward his friend, and hopped—and with excited giggles without a single word, they began to run down the sidewalk together.

The night winds brushed against their tiny bodies as they ran while laughing, their grins never fading from their face as the stars shone down brightly upon them. They ran past several houses. Past several cars.

Though they then slowly came to a stop, their smiles unfading as a white van pulled up to where they had been. A window rolled down, revealing a large man with black short hair and dark eyes, wearing a blue shirt as he smiled eerily down at them.

"Hey.. kids. Want some candy?"

Ah! It was Mr. Frank!

"Of course!" Skid nodded.

"It is a spooky month!" Pump added.

"Oh—it is!" Frank grinned with a chuckle. He threw two taffy candies in their direction, and began to drive away, moving his arms around as he performed the spooky dance.

Skid slowly turned to Pump, swearing he could have heard a faint scream from behind him.

"Let's watch a horror movie!"

————

After they rushed into the movie theater which was brightly lit up despite it literally being midnight and was somehow still open, they went into a room that had been hosting a movie. A horror movie. A spooky, horror movie!

And of course, it had been the spookiest thing they had ever watched. Having such great characters, such great plot lines, such great scares..

As Skid and Pump stared up at the screen with eager smiles, they watched the movie. A man with blonde hair was walking slowly with a flashlight in his hand. And from behind him, a green spooky face appeared and screamed—

"OOGAAAAA—"

"Aghh!"

"BOOGAAAAA—"

Pump, with a smile behind his mask, cheerfully said—"Let's go to the graveyard!"

————

After rushing there with crashes and the thousand sounds of souls screaming from the agony of hell, Skid and Pump rushed to the graveyard that was vast and held several tombstones. They came to a stop in front of the gate. And for a moment, silence fell.

The two then smiled, cheerfully saying, "It is a spooky month!"

No one replied.

Skid turned to Pump, and laughed again, "Let's do a prank-call!"

The two quickly rushed away from the gate and down further into the sidewalk, swearing they could have heard faint ghostly voices from inside of the graveyard the moment they left.

————

The two had gone into the damp, humid basement which barely had any stuff in it. It was dark with a light gray roof, and there appeared to be a small door that led to the outside incase there would ever be any sort of need for that.

Boxes surrounded the place as dust collected itself on random corners. There was a closet with a mannequin inside, along with a shelf that held various odd items such as red robes.

And in the middle of the boxes, Skid and Pump eagerly dashed their hands along the surface of a Ouija Board—giggling to themselves as they did so.

From the surface right then, a red large figure emerged—bearing muscles and horns as it's amber eyes glowed. It beared sharp teeth, and it growled slowly as it rose up, the place becoming a lot colder as it did so. Yet neither of the kids minded.

"It is a spooky month!" Skid grinned up at the new friend they had summoned.

The new friend peered down at them with his sharp teeth, yet instantly, he cheered—throwing his hands from side to side as he danced.

Pump smiled. And then looked at Skid. "Let's play horror games!"

————

The two ran into a space which held a simple computer on the floor. And the instant they did, Pump sat down excitedly in front of it while cheering. And Skid attempted to sit down, but quickly fell on his face. Despite this, he cheered as well.

Pump booted the computer up at seemingly sonic speed, and grabbed a controller as a game activated. As the screen lit up, there appeared to be some kind of man with a green hat and a mustache wondering through a haunted mansion, bearing s flashlight in his hand.

A ghost slowly trailed up from behind him with a mischevious grin, and—

"OOGA BOOGAAA—"

Skid smiled again. Lifting his head with an innocent stare, he giggled. "Let's go upstairs!"

————

They rushed, feeling the humid air of the basement brush less against their skin as they went up the dark stairs. And as they did so, the bright light from outside shone down upon them. And they quickly rushed into the kitchen with smiles on their—

They stopped. And their smiles faded.

Kevin stood there with a blank stare in his eyes. A frown upon his lips as he furrowed his brows. A coffee mug was in his hand, and he looked to be wearing a pink sweater.

"..there you two are. Where've you been?"

Kevin asked with a slight huff.

Neither of the kids answered. Slowly, they looked behind him. On the calender behind him that was also beside the table, it read..

..November.

...

The two then grinned.

"It's a spooky-giving!"

They began to dance with eager grins, excitedly giggling as they threw their arms from side to side and crouched. Kevin squinted at them in confusion, staring—before letting out a sigh as his low voice became raspy with only slight irritation.

He took a sip of his coffee. There probably wasn't any way these two would ever stop with their love for Halloween, or.. spooky month, as they called it.

Whatever. Not like he was even trying to make them stop with their antics anymore anyway.

[hatredcurse]

The brunette was standing in front of the Yamanaka flower shop before she chose to go inside. Giving oneself a lovely bouquet didn't sound so bad. A bouquet that would not be placed on the nightstand next to the hospital bed she had been in for over five years. No. Finally, she could arrange them in a lovely vase somewhere in her modest flat. She approached the blonde woman, sheepishly smiling at her. "Uh, haaah…" "I would like to buy flowers, b-but I'm not sure..." She paused abruptly. Her ears began to ring, and red sand poured from the walls. She was suddenly sucked into the illusionary world. In actuality, what appeared to be a few seconds was a day on the other plane. When she returned to reality, she shook her head and reached for it with her hand. She took a slow glance around her surroundings. Flowers… "A flower shop?" The brunette asked in confusion. She wasn't sure what she was doing there. This is why she should have gone with her nurse. Too stubborn she was. || @kyuusou

It was one of the rare times that Ino was actually in shop. Some of the part-timers wanted off for various celebrations, that she switched her schedule around and left the Barrier Committee with fewer helping hands today.

Wilting buds to be pruned, vegetables to be harvested, fresh seeds to be gestated, everything was lined up perfectly to the tasks she set out to do. She hummed, keeping herself company through all the tasks until the bell jingled from the door edge kicking it and broke her meditation with the hose in her hand.

" Welcome in, " Ino chimes over the shelves of vegetation, wheeling around towards the door to greet the customer.

" Oh- " her lips parted, ready with suggestions until she noticed the listlessness within the brunette's eyes. A sort of clinical phasing between present and disassociation. The Yamanaka couldn't fight her nature, hovering a nurturing hand near the Uchiha, urging her into the safety of the shop and away from the door or any fragile clay pots.

" Yes- were you wanting some flowers? " The question was simple, yet an important gauge of the woman's cognizance, " for decoration, perhaps? "

[xunandran]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday

Haven't posted anything in a while because I've been working really hard, both at work, and on one of my fics that's started getting to the good bits.

So here's some words I was playing around with for a 911 themed Beauty and the Beast retelling. Not sure if I'll actually pursue it, but I thought it was neat to dip into for a bit.

Enjoy.

“You shouldn’t do that. The master expressly forbids anyone from being in this area of the building.” The small hen timer clucked along behind Buck as he walked, his fingers tracing along the boarded up windows of the space. Buck’s eyes lit up with devious glee. “Well now I’m even more curious than before. Don’t worry. We’ll be in and out before he even suspects a thing.” The little device shuddered, ticking nervously as it followed along. “He’ll know. He always knows.” Buck paid the nervous appliance no mind as he ambled down the hallway. How strange that the fantastical nature of a talking timer was already seeming commonplace to him. He smudged away the thick layer of dust on a portrait. Three people, possibly a family. All of the faces and the recognizable features had been clawed away, leaving only ribbons of canvas dangling from the stately frame. The longer he focused on the damaged portrait, the more nervous the timer seemed to get, clucking low and pacing to and fro beside him. Buck pointed further down the hall. “What’s that?” At the end, two large oaken doors stood side by side. One, the furthest, was stained dark, near black in the dim light. Large gashes tore along the edge where the knob used to be, as if large, clumsily angry claws had no patience for mastering its use. But for how interesting that door was, it was the one before it that truly had Buck’s interest piqued. It stood the same as the further, dark stained oak. But unlike the damaged one, this one was pristine, save for the thick layer of dust that implied its disuse. Large planks of wood were nailed into the door frame along the bulk of the door, leaving only the top and bottom visible. Buck noted that, since the door opened inward, if he could remove the bottom plank, he could get crawl through. Hen clucked low and shivered, a small shrill bell like chime. “That room is expressly forbidden. I don’t know what’s in there. We’re not allowed.” Buck sat on the dusty floor in front of the door. After bracing his feet on either side of the frame, he grabbed the lowest plank and pulled. “Are you crazy?” Hen’s voice was barely audible over the groaning squeal of old nails pulling from wood.

Buck tossed the plank aside and angled himself so he could reach between the barrier and the door. He fished for the knob, blindly groping. Motes tickled at his nose, and he could feel the dust smear against his face as he pressed against the wood. “Your master is a beast, and I am his prisoner. If what’s behind here gives me any sort of explanation why, then I want to know.” His fingertips closed along cold iron and he wriggled the latch until a dull click filtered through the space. The large door opened inward with a loud creak. Buck peered into the blanket of darkness, searching for anything, but no light passed into the space beyond. He grabbed Hen and twisted her. “What are you doing?” Her yelp reverberated down the empty hall. “Setting a timer. Wait out here.” “That was the plan,” Hen huffed. She crossed her wings and glared at Buck. It was hard to take her seriously, one with her being a hen timer, and two with her ticking intermittently. “You should stay out here too. You don’t know what could be in there.” “I’m hoping answers,” Buck whispered as he shimmied on his belly into the yawning dark beyond. Buck pawed his hand against the wall next to the door until he felt the light switch. Flipping it proved useless, just like the rest of the decrepit building. He wished that he’d brought that annoying lamp with him, but it was too late now. He stutter-stepped deeper into the black space. His outstretched left hand brushed against a surface of some kind. A table, maybe a desk. He could feel the dust pool against his fingers as they pressed against the surface. A dim, multi-colored light pulsed from beside his hand. He crept his fingers toward the pulsing kaleidescope. Soft cloth, maybe velvet, pooled beneath his hand. He gently pulled the cover, illuminating a small Christmas tree under a glass dome. The small lights of the tree twinkled in reds, blues, greens and purples, illuminating a small corner of the room. Buck leaned down to get a better look at the replica tree. Silverly tinsel garnished the bulk of the branches, reflecting the glittering lights. Little homemade strands of garland - five popcorn to one cranberry - wrapped around and danced with the lights. Various ornaments finished up the small festive decoration. The lights, however, interested him most, for at the bottom of the tree, where there should be the most, none of the lights appeared to work, as if all of their bulbs had gone out. Next to the tree was a down turned picture frame. Shards of glass from the broken cover clattered onto the desk like icicles as Buck picked it up to take a closer look. Festive Christmas lights illuminated a small, smiling boy with large curls and a woman with wavy brown hair and bangs. They appeared to be at the beach, the ocean tide easily visible behind them. The small hen timer in the hallway rang an alarm, catching Buck’s attention. “He’s coming! Get out of there!”

[perfectiongeeks]

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[dayqyeen]

no good can come of longing | @rhysie

SHE HAS PAINTED HER LOVELY FACE INTO A MASK OF NEUTRALITY, tucking away every thought and intension behind an insipid little smile, just as her mother had taught her. It comes as no surprise that Rhysand is able to see through that guise like glass – seasoned noble that he was. How many centuries did he have to pluck apart every micro-expression presented to him in his fae court? That ability frightens her almost as much as that gift of his; the gift he was sure to use should the need ever arise. How strong were the thorns and wrought iron gates of her mind against taloned darkness? Perhaps that had been one more excuse to pull her from the abyss of the cauldron she had dwelt in those first few months. . .

A chime from atop the kitchen counter draws her attention to the bread proofing in the oven, the little timer merrily ringing away. Saved by the bell indeed. Drawing the dough from the oven and flouring the table blesses her with the much needed time to consider this mini confrontation. Did she look so dejected he felt the need to intervene? Had her wraith chaperones informed their high lord of her bleak and monotonous existence? The roots she had planted here were confined to a tiny window box, FREE TO FLOURISH BUT ONLY TO AN EXTENT. Pleased as she was with Nuala and Cerridwen's company, their careful observation of her behavior did not go unnoticed. She works the spark of ire out into the dough as Rhys watches her from the doorway. It's braided and placed atop a baking sheet by the time she deigns to look at him again. Fawn brown eyes assessing his intent and the safest answer she could give him.

It was easy to assume he spoke of Solstice in all its disaster. A mistake indeed, she realizes now, her feeble attempt at reaching for a scrap of control somewhere familiar. Elain had slunk off to bed with no little displeasure at the interruption, avoiding her brother-in-law's gaze. It was only a few scant moments later that she was thankful for it. They must forget, sometimes, what she is. Their conversation had been easy to overhear, even from the comfort of her bed. Any longing that had clung to her all the way upstairs had been thoroughly destroyed at the violence and entitlement in the Shadowsinger's tone. How sick to death she was of being claimed by those that thought they had a right to her, as if they deserved her, her feelings be damned. He hadn't used her name when speaking about his so called desire for her, hadn't declined his feelings towards Morrigan... How foolish she felt curled in her bed weeping bitter, angry tears. She had tossed the necklace in his pile of presents some time later.

Perhaps he spoke of Lucien, a far more humiliating desire when she has been so public in her supposed dismissal of him [ . . . ] The golden thread stretched taut between them – no amount of resentment can dampen it, no matter how desperately she tries to ignore this strange magic. Even leagues away she can feel him nestled in her heart like a burr, halting her in her tracks on any day with the sheer depth of how wrong his absence felt. To accept him was to reject who she was, what she was, a fact she was unable to abide; however foolish it made her appear.

That was the truth of the matter, wasn't it? Layer upon layer peeled back to reveal the same thing every time. Humanity, or the lack thereof. Of Graysen and the life she had so carefully cultivated in her dreams. HER REFLECTION WAS STILL UNFAMILIAR – THE WRETCHED HORRIBLE BEAUTY OF HER. The points of her ears refuse to be hidden by her hair, and she cannot peel away the perfect skin, though she'd tried to with rose thorns. She longs to go back so desperately she would gnaw off her limbs like a fox in a trap to spend a week in a body free of this wretched magic that would last for an eternity. A hazy part of her knew that it held her back from all she could have and all she could be, a part that was too frightened to examine what that could mean [ . . . ] No, she supposes, no good could come of longing. But she was nothing if not longing; the cauldron had sewn into her very marrow, this impossible yearning. There was no end in sight and no name she would give it to voice it outloud.

' Then you'll be pleased to know I long for nothing. ' She murmurs her pretty lie & he is sure to see through like glass. ' You and my sister have provided all I could ever need right here. '

[acroynon]

Yellow Marigolds

Wesley

“Ding!” The bell above the door chimed. Wesley recoiled from the noise and sheepishly ducked into the store. He could see a bull of a man, looking at him from under his eyebrows, sitting behind the register. Wesley quickly darted to the back of the store, away from the man's stare.

He needed to find something quick. Today was the big day, the first interview he had been given for ages. He couldn’t blow it by turning up late or having a shirt stained with blood. Stupid Wesley. He berated himself, Dad always told me never to rush shaving, now look what you’ve done. You’re going to be late and lose the job. No one is ever going to hire you. He scanned the shelves of the little convenience store hoping to find something that could fix his shirt and prevent him from embarrassing himself any further. Baking Soda, no. Salt, No. Ah, vinegar!. He remembered reading somewhere that vinegar could be used to get red wine out of clothes, so it might work. He grabbed the smallest bottle and headed towards the counter.

The boulder of a cashier looked at him and didn’t speak. He could probably tell how useless Wesley was and didn’t think he was worth a conversation.

“Uh... just this, please”, Wesley squeaked as he held up the vinegar. “I uh.. Got some blood on uh... my shirt when I was uh... Shaving. Uh… I read that uh… Vinegar can uh… Help.” He’d always struggled talking to people but he’d read online that practising with strangers was the best way to help his confidence issues. The cashier eyed him, then the vinegar, then him again, looking down at this shirt, then back to Wesley's eyes. He must think I’m such a loser, can’t even shave right.

“Ah, first timer is it?” His voice croaked from the depths of his throat. “Vinegar’s no good. Those sort of stains will still show up under certain lights. You’ll want to just throw those clothes out. Black bags are just over there.” He said pointing to his left at one of the shelves behind Wesley. You look like such an idiot, everyone knows that blood stains don’t come out with vinegar. He thought to himself as he shuffled his way around the store. Exchanging the vinegar for a roll of black bags. “Grab some Marigolds too. They’re next to the bags.” The man growled towards him. “No, other side. The yellow ones.” He corrected as Wesley reached towards a pair of pink gloves.

“That’ll be £2.49.” The cashier said. Wesley had already got his wallet ready when the man was scanning the items. He pulled out his card. “Sure you want to pay on that? Do you have any cash?” He asked.“Uh… Cards uh… Fine.” He managed.

“Apologies. The machine is broken. It’ll have to be cash.” The man said. You idiot Wesley, he just told you to pay with cash. Wesley nodded, shoving his card back into his wallet and thumbed around for some coins. Dropping a few on the floor in the process. As he scrambled on the floor the man said “Remember not to throw these bags into your own rubbish. Don’t want someone finding these soiled clothes, do we. The dump down the way can be quite discreet, just go when it’s nice and dark and quiet.”“Yes… Uh… Thank you.” Wesley replied as he stood up. Of course you can’t throw bloodied clothes into the normal rubbish. That’s unsanitary for the collectors. Don’t you know anything. The constant critic in his head pointed out.

Wesley was pushing coins around on the counter, counting out the exact change. The man was watching him intently. “Before you shave again I’d get a nice leather apron. Larry’s a good’un, I’ve been going to him for years. Also get yourself some sheets to put across the workspace. Makes the mess easier to clean up.” Wesley handed the coins over, the man dumped them into his pocket and added “If you come back when I’m done here, say ‘round 10pm” he motioned upwards with his head. “We can chat a bit more privately about all these things.” Wesley looked behind him, to the top shelves where he was motioned. Is he offering to get a drink with you? He wondered to himself.“Yes… Uh.. Yes please.” He said before the man could take back his offer. Wesley wasn’t much of a drinker but he couldn’t turn down this offer of friendship. He felt the unfamiliar sensation of a smile on his face as he walked out of the store. Ready for his interview.

Don

“Ding.” The small bell above the door chimed. A skinny young boy entered the store. Don gave him a quick glance before returning to his paper. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the gangly child dart to the back of the store behind some of the shelving. The guy was probably in his early 30’s but had no meat on his bones whatsoever. Most likely a tweaker. He thought to himself as he thumbed over a page.‘Hitch-Hiker Goes Missing Leaving Police Mystified.’ The article read. The paper was from a number of years ago, but Don loved re-reading some of the classics. He’d retired from the ‘business’ about ten years ago now. He was getting too old now to pick anyone up. No one would accept a lift from an over 60 year old in a battered old truck.

He barely noticed that the twig was now standing in front of him. Proudly holding up a tiny bottle of vinegar.“Uh... just this, please”, the boy squeaked. “I uh.. Got some blood on uh... my shirt when I was uh... Shaving. Uh… I read that uh… Vinegar can uh… Help.”.Done noticed the sweat building on the young man's forehead. There was blood on the collar of his shirt. Some dirt under the fingernails of the hand that was clenching the bottle of vinegar. The man’s other hand was hidden behind his back. Ah, not a tweaker then.

“Ah, first timer is it?” He’d know the patterns anywhere. The first kill was always the most terrifying, but also the most exhilarating. This poor chap was probably still in shock. Must have been a spur of the moment one, not thought through at all. Not to worry, Don had plenty of experience and wisdom to offer. “Vinegar’s no good. Those sort of stains will show up under certain lights” he gave the man a small wink “You’ll want to just throw those clothes out. Black bags are just over there.” No point trying to wash civilian clothes, easier just to dispose of the evidence. “Grab some marigolds too. They’re just next to the bags.” Don offered. He preferred surgical gloves, but he didn’t have any in the store. “No, other side. The yellow ones.” The pink were some off-brand washing up glove. Useless things, they always split.

“That’ll be £2.49” He’d made the number up. That way this transaction would be harder to trace. The newbie stood there and held out his card. He really hadn’t thought this through. “Are you sure you want to pay on that? Do you have any cash?” Don offered.“Uh… Cards uh… Fine.” He replied. He really was new to this.

“Apologies. The machine is broken. It’ll have to be cash.” Done replied, with another little wink. The man's trembling hands rummaged through his wallet, dropping all the coins over the floor. Poor guy. Don remembered back to his first time. He was a wreck, nervous as could be. He’d been planning it for months. Targeting someone who wouldn’t be missed, what clothes to wear, where to dump the body. “Remember not to throw these bags into your own rubbish. Don’t want anyone finding these soiled clothes, do we. The dump down the way can be quite discreet, just go when it’s nice and dark and quiet.” That’s where Don had dumped his first too. He hadn’t dumped them all there though. Some he took to neighbouring towns, others he had buried. He avoided any obvious patterns unlike some of the amateurs he saw on TV.

“Yes… Uh… Thank you.” the young man managed, wiping the sweat from his brow. He had started meticulously counting out coins on the counter. Don could imagine how good this young guy could grow to be, a real eye for detail on this one. “Before you.. ‘Shave’ again. I’d get a nice leather apron. Larry’s a good’un. I’ve been going to him for years.” Larry was a leatherworker known around the town. He could do it all; fix knackered furniture, make custom jackets, but his aprons were masterpieces. Don had bought a number throughout the years. “Also, get yourself some sheets to put across the workspace. Makes the mess easier to clean up.” There was an old derelict cabin in the woods that he had used as a workshop for a number of years. Maybe it was time to pass the old place on.

“If you come back when I’m done here, say around 10pm” he motioned his head up towards the CCTV above his head. “We can chat a bit more privately about all these things.” He couldn’t risk going into any detail with the guy, or mentioning the cabin when he was being filmed.

“Yes… Uh.. Yes please.” A small smile grew on the young man’s face. Don thought back to when he was starting out, wishing he had had a mentor to help him through it. He looked forward to reading about the man’s exploits in the paper.

[pnrwrites]

💖Day 6: Chocolate💖

The confectionary is in chaos, and I along with it. Pastry chefs hurry to fill their chou, oven timers ding, and the sound of high speed mixers drown out all thought aside of the next bake.

I stand with the other chocolatiers, rolling thin spirals of brown and white to put atop the back of frosted cupcakes sitting on the rack.

Valentine’s Day is always our busiest day of the year. Every January I beg the shop owners for more bakers, more chocolatiers, and every year I’m met with half the staff I started with the previous year.

The plastic rolls under my fingers, curling the chocolate into thin spirals before I toss it into the cooler. Then I move onto the next batch, and then the mousse domes I’m so terribly behind on. They still need a mirror glaze. Then, once the cupcakes are decorated, I need to start on the set of truffles and bonbons that will fill the little pink heart-shaped gift boxes waiting patiently in the corner. 

A bell chimes. I ignore it, too engrossed in pouring the silky marbled chocolate over the domes. They shine like jewels, glinting off of the overheart lights.

“Lunchtime,” a voice says behind me; my manager, Chrissy.

“I’ll skip.” I don’t look up from my task. There isn’t enough time to stop now. The endless list plays like rolling credits on the back of my eyelids.

“It’s mandated.”

“No one needs to know.” I reach for the piping bag but she snatches it from my hand.

“I’m not getting sued because you’re stubborn,” Chrissy says. I glare back at her. I wouldn’t be so stubborn if she hired enough people to handle the workload in the first place.

“I’ll go in a minute--”

“Now.”

There’s no winning with her. Frustrated, I stalk to the break room and toss my apron on a chair. I’m not even hungry--or so I tell myself. My stomach growls as the scent of fresh pastries wafts in my direction. I don’t dare sneak one off the rack--we���ll need all we can get for Valentine’s Day. 

With a sigh, I grab my lunch from the fridge and plop down in one of the metal chairs. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of leftovers the day after Valentine’s, anyway. Any special boxes that don’t sell will go to the rest of us, and it’s not like anyone is going to buy me sweets. I haven’t even been on a date since 2010. 

Chocolate is my only love, and she’s never steered me wrong.

Day 6 of Valentine/February Prompts