#I'm thinking of giving him an apron. maybe give back his jacket?

[evieelyzabethh]

Hey can u do a spike smut

I have another Spike smut fic coming so I'm gonna use this to drop my sfw and nsfw Spike headcannons because fun fact, the buffy brain rot is real and I have over 100 pages of buffy reboot material. anyways...

warning: not proofread

sfw:

Spike purely smokes because he thinks it makes him look cool. I think when it comes to vampires, they either physically cannot feel the effects of drugs or are lightweights. He hates the smell of smoke, hence the duster jacket, and refuses to smoke in his crypt because of the shit ventilation

Speaking of smoking, William was most definitely asthmatic. He had no friends in boys school because too much physical movement sent him wheezing. He did enjoy horseback riding though

He has poetry stashed somewhere, I just know it. Under some slab of rock or rolled in some random alcohol bottle pirate style, it's somewhere.

Spike would love an English major or anyone who has a hobby aligned with creative writing. This doesn't mean he'd automatically show you anything he's written but he'd be more open to the possibility sooner rather than later.

Very picky with what he steals/wears. He will not just put any old rags on. He dressed Drusilla and he is a fashion icon and I stand by that

As for him with a partner, I do think he is the type to fall first and incredibly hard

I think how familiar you are with one another would dictate a lot. If you were a Scooby, I wouldn't say he'd keep his distance, but he wouldn't be super outright with his affection. There'd be some playful banter here and there, dare I say some flirting, and maybe even some gift-giving every now and again. He's like a crow, he'd be the type to drop things on your windowsill just because it reminded him of you

If you two didn't know each other, he'd most definitely be the stalking type. Every time you're walking home from school, there WILL be a dark figure following you around. You're getting harassed by some rando? If you paid attention to the newspaper, you'd see they mysteriously went missing. You can go from eyeing something while window shopping to it magically ending up on your doorstep

Never the one to make the first move. He wouldn't say a word unless he was 100% confident that you liked him back, and even then, there'd be a lot of hesitation

He would love a forward partner. Someone who makes his insecurities melt away and who he doesn't have to worry about them ever getting over him. When he loves, he loves forever. He has all of time to love you and his ideal partner would be someone who wants to spend all of time with him

He is such a romantic!!! I think he would be so into matching couples costumes or just matching outfits in general. Super into domesticity wherever he can get it, decorating a home together, cleaning together, cooking together, doing anything together

Since he can't have a job, I do see him being a house husband. It gives him something to do during the day. Wears a 'kiss the cook' apron and pouts if you don't give him kisses while wearing it. I headcannon that he spent time all over Europe, including France, and had some really good pastries at some cafe that closed like 200 years ago and made it his life's mission to recreate them. The grocery bill is high but it makes him happy

Valentine's Day is his absolute favorite holiday and he makes a big deal of outdoing himself every year. Not in terms of money or extravagance, but meaning. He treats every day as a new one to know more about you. It's not enough to know your favorite color, he needs to know the exact shade, exact hue, and exact context you love it in. He knows your allergies, remembers your favorite outfits, and keeps track of your cleaning habits so he can make everything shiny and new when you forget yourself. He becomes a master of all trades to make you whatever you want exactly how you want it

He does really like Halloween, too. He's a huge fan of the Scream movies. He dislikes when horror movies try too hard. Being so used to gore, blood, and guts, he prefers a funnier, more unserious scary movie

Speaking of blood, he starts out against drinking from you. He used to only do it to kill someone, or at least with the intent to cause harm. He didn't trust himself not to get overwhelmed and hurt you. But I feel like at some point he either gets hurt on patrol or his stash gets low and you both forgot to restock and he has to. It was a very close call, and he couldn't bring himself to even look at you after the fact. He only warms up to it if it's necessary. He avoids it, but there are always slip-ups. He has bitten you during sex a few times when he got a bit too into it. He says he refuses to do it unless it's for your pleasure

He is so obsessed with you, if you couldn't tell. You're his favorite person, favorite scent, favorite taste. Not to be slightly yandere on main, but he would kill for you and kill himself if he wasn't enough for you. Never leave you. Never hurt you. Spike would never.

nsfw:

He is neither an ass or tits guy, he's just a 'you' guy. Absolutely everything about you gets him going. You think it's funny at first until you're trying to eat a bowl of spaghetti and he's staring at you, hard. It's not his fault the stray sauce around your lips looked like blood and vampire you is a very hot concept to him

You guys have to own a house. The noise complaints would be too much and you'd get evicted. I do see him as more of a groaner than a moaner, but sometimes it's just too much and it's both. Sometimes it's just one hand gripping the pillow your head is resting on, the other on the headboard, and his head in the crook of your neck practically whimpering as you milk his cock

You also have a tendency to get pretty loud, and as much as he loves your voice, his super vampire hearing can't take it sometimes :(

Doesn't really matter the position, but it's hard and he's so big. You can feel him in your damn ribs and it's choking you up. You don't even realize how loud you are. It's not until you hear his raspy voice in your ear. "I know, love, I know. It's a lot, but I need you to be a bit quieter. You're hurting me." And you pout a bit and try to mumble apologies that just sound like gibberish. You try, futilely, but surely he must understand that you can't help it. Not when it's this good. He whispers again, rubs where your belly bulges from his dick, but it doesn't seem to work. He eventually flips you over to shove your head in the pillows and you were far too out of it to complain. You like it a bit rough anyway.

As mentioned previously, he is a biter. He can't help it, it's instinct honestly. Its not like you mind, you clench even harder when he does. The sudden smell of iron is drowned out by the stench of sex and sweat, and the piercing feel of his fangs into your neck only stings for a bit. He makes up for it by licking up whatever spills <3 Being with a vampire was always going to be at least a little painful

He likes his hair pulled. You're fingers in his hair in general is heaven on earth, but being pulled around a bit is nice

Has a thing for tearing your clothes off. He really does like being a vampire, feeling big and strong in a way he was never able to when he was human. There is a feral piece of him, maybe its the demon inside him or it was always present, but seeing your clothes in pieces after the fact just scratches the itch in his brain

Speaking of brain, enjoys giving and receiving head equally. Being absolutely obsessed with you, and very secretly obsessed with the taste of your blood, he could die happily with your cum on his lips. Between your legs is his favorite place for real. As for receiving, it's his favorite way of shutting you up in any scenario.

Bruises. Everywhere. Hickeys. Everywhere. He's possessive but not exactly an exhibitionist, they end up along your collarbones and your thighs. Places where they can easily be hidden or revealed

Plays old music because he's old. He refuses to use modern technology because he likes his old as dirt aesthetic but definitely plays sexy orchestral music. I simply do not believe him to be an RnB kinda guy

He likes seeing you in his clothes after!! Going back to the whole love for domesticity thing, it just feels right. He's, shockingly, not always a horny fuck in the morning. Sometimes it feels more right to just look at you, the pretty after sex glow on your face, your messy hair, your cheeks pressed into the pillow. If you get up before him and put on what he had on the night before, it just completes the picture.

When he is a horny fuck in the morning, it's still just as soft and slow as the non-sexual mornings. He likes to be the big spoon simply because it's easier to slide his dick between your thighs and hold your tits at the same time

[1hot-mess-express1]

Changes

(Toji X Reader)

Synopsis: Toji gets a new job and looks hot in a suit

CW: (thinking about) Oral (male receiving), (role play) boss/employee dynamics, language (obvs it's Toji)

AN: This is still pretty short (1.1K) but I'm working my way up to longer fics, definitely haven't written smut in ages so I kind of chickened out there at the end haha

Convincing Toji to settle down and get a ‘real’ job went about as well as one would imagine. He was all teeth and mean comments about how you’d miss the money, how you’d fall out of shape, even going as far as to say that he needs time away from you on jobs for your relationship to work out—but you know Toji, he didn’t mean any of that. He’s just slow to change, no matter what that change is, but especially if that change is someone else’s idea, even you, his sweet, beautiful, second chance at life, the calm after the storm. 

Just as you were about to give up hope on pulling Toji out of his dangerous career, you heard his heavy footsteps descending the stairs of your home. His muttered words were barely audible but hinted at a brewing storm. You wiped your hands on your apron, wondering what possibly could have him this riled up so late into your evening. Maybe Shiu called him for another extended job that would have him away from home for a few weeks. You step into your living room with bated breath, praying that you’re wrong, hoping that you can play house with him for a bit longer before you’re reminded of what your husband really does for work. What you saw there was nothing short of astonishing. 

Toji stands in the middle of your shared living room, trying to button the cuffs of his button-down shirt. His large hands slip away from the too-small buttons, turning the task into a nightmare as he groans, eyebrows knit, and jaw clenches. You think for a moment that he must not have detected your presence as he continues to struggle and swear under his breath until he pulls you from your thoughts. 

“Ya just gonna sit there staring at me, or are ya gonna come help me with this stupid fucking shirt,” he turns to face you, and you see a light blush dusting the tips of his cheeks as he drops moves a hand to run through his hair, avoiding your gaze. 

He has an expensive black suit jacket over the light button-down, slacks, and matching dress shoes. His unruly mop of hair looks like it’s been pushed back a bit to look more professional. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Toji in anything this nice before, not even at your wedding; he insisted on wearing jeans and sneakers (mostly cause you wouldn’t let him go shoeless-- yes, that too was a fight). 

He must have noticed your gawking cause he snaps at you again, “Hey! Woman, come put those tiny fingers to good use for once,” the corner of his lips pull into a devilish smirk, and suddenly your face is heating up at the realization that he caught you gawking. 

“Y-yeah, sorry,” you say, making your way to stand in front of him. Staring intently at the tiny opalescent buttons on his wrist, you try desperately to avoid his burning eyes, which are burning holes into the back of your head. 

Your delicate fingers slip the pretty button into its home as your eyes start to linger, raking over his built thighs, noting how the fabric clings deliciously to the well-built muscle there. Fuck, if you’re really looking, just under the simple leather belt, you can see the shape of his fat cock through the light fabric. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as your mouth goes dry. Daring a glance upward, you can see how the fabric of his dress shirt pulls slightly as if his chest barely fits in the damn thing; the well-fit blazer only makes his shoulders look impossibly bigger.

“Hey, I’ve got two hands, airhead,” he chuckles breathly into your ear, causing the hairs on your neck to stand straight up as he moves to gently kiss your temple. 

“S-so uh, what’s with the outfit?” you curse yourself momentarily for letting him know how much he affects you; even after all these years, he still makes your body react with the simplest touch. 

You feel his body freeze for a moment at the side of your head before speaking, “Oh uh, Shiu got me a job; I’ll be security at one of those upscale clubs downtown,” he buries his face into the side of your hair mumbling his words into it, “Why? You don’t like it, doll?”

After fastening the second button, your arms wrap gently around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer, “No, I love it actually, just a little surprised, is all.” Your fingers begin to card through the hair at the nape of his neck, causing goose flesh to rise as Toji wraps his arms around your midsection, pulling you closer to him. 

“Tell me how much you love it, beautiful,” he whispers into your ear. His fingers play with the tie of your apron as his other hand snakes under your shirt, and warm hands trace circles in the small of your back. 

A shiver runs through your spine before you speak, “You look handsome, honey. Like some executive business prick…definitely the type of guy to fuck around with his secretary.” You can hear him chuckle as he moves to place open-mouth kisses under your ear, enjoying the way you start to fidget within his grasp. 

“Keep going, baby.”

You let out an audible gasp when he nibbles on your ear lobe, hand moving down to caress the fat of your ass under your pants. “You look so big in that suit, Toji, like a strong, respectable businessman.” You let out a breathy laugh at the last part as Toji places his behind your neck, craning down so your noses just barely brush one another. 

“Is that right, doll? Ya wanna be my good little secretary then? Hm?” He bites gently at your bottom lip, pulling your hips in closer so you can feel all of him better. “Ya gonna be a good girl n suck me off under the table? Gotta keep quiet though or everyone in the office will know you got that promotion on your knees” You let out a breathy moan at the thought of having your mouth stuffed full with his cock, drool cascading down the sides of your mouth and staining your pencil skirt as he speaks with employees as if you aren’t below him, gagging, trying desperately to stay quiet. The thought alone has you pressing your thighs together as he moves his hand to trace over the gloss on your bottom lip, smearing the sticky substance around and staring with a predatory gaze at how you part your lips to lick at the tip of his finger before he presses it further into your mouth. You wrap your lips around the digit and stare up at him with those pleading eyes like you were begging to have his dick down your throat. Fuck, he doesn’t think he’s so mad at the change anymore, not when it means he could keep you around his office as a personal stress reliever from now on.

[resi4skz]

Title: Starstruck (pt2)

Pairings: idol!Chan x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, bike s*x

‼️MDNI‼️

Part 1 , Part 3

"Right in here, please," I say as I put a checkmark on the list of things to put away before closing the bakery. "I need everything to go smoothly as possible on Monday."

"Why are you so snappy?"

I turn, giving Luna a confused look. "I'm not snappy."

"Uh huh," she rolls her eyes as she took off her apron. "Let's go before you start hyperventilating about seeing their fanmeet in about," she glances at her wrist watch, "3 hours."

"I don't know what to wear."

"Alright. Let's go."

"Where we going?"

---------------------------------------------------------

We arrived at the venue an hour earlier and we showed the tickets to the vendor. "Ah, right this way please." He leads us to a different enterance and I glance at the back, seeing others standing in line with merch.

"But-"

"Ma'am, these are VIIP tickets. It gives you access to backstage."

"Okay. He's definitely going in the good books," Luna says smiling.

"Jeez, how much do you think he spent of these tickets?"

"Honestly? Probably a lot, but who knows?" She shrugs her shoulders. "Maybe he got them knowing you were coming."

Fuck. How do you expect to me to act after knowing this information?

We walk around the staff and stand just right to the main stage. The butterflies in my stomach right now is nothing compared to what it would've been watching them from the front. This was their 4th fanmeet and I couldn't have been more happier for them. They have achieved so much in the past 6 years.

"Okay, wow. This is awesome," Luna says, her eyes shining with excitement.

"Are you sure I'm wearing the right clothes?"

"Yes, now stop fussing over it!"

She made me wear a black corset with black skirt, boots and a leather jacket. My hair was down in loose curls. Okay, maybe she does have some taste.

"Hey, you made it."

I turn around and I'm again blown away by he man in front of me. He was wearing a blue coat and pants with white shirt underneath, topped with black boots. And his hair was styled in a wavy look. And damn, he looked good. "I hope no one gave you trouble coming inside?"

"Uh, no. Everything went smoothly," I replied. I felt a poke on my arm. "Ah, right. This is my best friend, Luna."

"Oh, hi Luna. Nice to meet you."

"Yeah," she waves nervously at him. I roll my eyes. Why did I even bring her with me?

Then more guys appear behind him. Oh my god. It's them. Leeknow, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, and I.N. The whole gang is here. Holy cannolli. This isn't real life.

"Alright, we gotta go. It's time for us to go on the stage," Chan states. For a second, I felt his eyes trail over me, my attire but he turned around and walked away with the group. I blinked, asking myself what happened.

But he turned around and walked straight to me. He takes my hand and says, "I'll see you later?"

I nod.

He smiles, his dimples on display. He leans in, placing a chaste kiss on my cheek. "See you later, babygirl," he says, winking at me before sprinting back.

"Did he just....kiss you on the cheek? Wait. Am I dreaming?" Luna pinches her arm and hisses in pain. "Definitely not dreaming. Holy shit."

Holy shit was right.

Because their fanmeet was a success. They played small games, did dance challenges, did a lot of performances and by the end of it all, they were still happy and energetic. I don't think I've ever seen them be this happy before.

And their performances? Just wow. And with Chan in a sleeveless top? Those arms made me weak in the knees. "Stop drooling."

I sigh, feeling those butterflies again. "Luna, I'm not drooling."

"Is it me or is he only looking at you?"

"Who?" I asked as I follow the direction she pointed at. He's smiling, but his eyes show something else, something desperate as he looks at me. He disappears in the back rooms, probably to change and freshen up.

"Okay. You have my permission," Luna nods.

"Permission?" I blinked at her.

"To get thoroughly fucked by h-oompf."

I cover her mouth with my hand. "Are you insane?!"

She pries my hand off. "Do you not want to? You do know who he is, even as the biker tiktok dude."

"I knew I shouldn't have told you that."

"Hey, I would've found out either way. But the question still remains."

"Which is?"

"Do you like him? Enough to take you, sweep you off your feet?"

"I mean yeah, but-"

"Oh. Here he comes."

He walks over, wearing all black. Very similar clothing to mine. "Ready?"

"Uh, are we leaving?"

"Yes. You and me. I wanna take you for a ride."

I look at Luna then back at him. I feel her hand on my back, giving me a little push. He grabs my hand, intertwining it with his own as we walk away, sprint more like, away from the book. "Wait. What about the res-" He stops, turns around and cups my face, he takes advantage of my surprised expression and swoops in for a kiss. When he pulls away, he smiles down at me before grabbing my hand again and walking outside.

What just happened?

---------------------------------------------------------

*CHAN'S POV*

The roar of the engine filled the night air as I zoomed down the empty road, the darkness engulfing me like a comforting shroud. The pair of gloves hands around my waist felt more comfortable than riding my bike alone. Her hands were small but god, did they feel good against me.

My headlights cut through the blackness ahead, illuminating the twisting road as it disappeared into the distance. The cool night air whipped against my helmet, the only sound besides the thundering of the engine. I was going to the place I had found a few weeks ago, where I could be this tiktok personality I made for myself.

I felt her arms tightened around me. Maybe she wasn't used to bike rides? Flashes of streetlights and neon signs painted the surroundings in streaks of light, blurring past in a colorful whirlwind. The occasional silhouette of a building or tree flashed by, casting eerie shadows in my path.

As I leaned into the curves, the sensation of speed combined with the solitude of the empty road created a thrilling sense of freedom. But with her behind me, it was more than freedom. I had been waiting for this day. I wanted to see her again because when I dropped her off at her place the other day, all I wanted to do was rip off that dress she wore.

It was then I knew that I was fucked. 100% fully fucked.

The city lights glimmered in the distance, a distant beacon guiding us on our journey through the night. In that moment, it was just me, my bike, Y/N and the open road stretching out before us—an endless expanse of possibility and adventure.

As I take a turn, I felt her hands wandering. Any lower, it would be dangerous territory. I grab her hand and squeeze. A warning. But as I speed off into the highway, her hands slide down low. Lower. Until they've reached their destination.

The little minx.

Through my tight jeans, she uses her hands to grab my clothed dick and gives it a rub. Fuck. My hand tightens as I try to maintain my hormones at bay level till we were at the destination.

5 minutes.

She gives it another rub and I almost crash. This is going to be harder than I thought.

4 minutes.

I swerve into the left lane, as the traffic was faster and I wanted nothing more to reach the location faster than I had originally planned.

3 minutes.

I groan as her hands slide up and down a bit quicker. I grip her hand, stopping it.

2 minutes.

Reaching around my back, I find her ass cheek and gives it squeeze. Hard. I feel her jerk towards my back.

1 minute.

Taking a left turn, I see the familiar abandoned cliff as her hand reaches down again. I curse as I increase the speed of my bike. I need to get there faster.

30 seconds.

Slowing down the bike, I, very gently, park the bike.

15 seconds.

Turning off the ignition, I wait till she's off the bike. Then I climb off, unbuckle the clasp of my helmet before taking it off as she also takes her helmet off.

5 seconds.

I stare at her till she's composed herself. Then I'm on her.

*Y/N POV*

I don't get time to breathe as he's on me within seconds, our helmets long forgotten on the ground. Lips and teeth clashing as his hands slide around my back, giving it a slight push towards him. I felt his hardness on my lower tummy. "Wait," I lightly push him away. "I need to breathe."

His delicious mouth travels down to my jaw and neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses. "Mmm, Channie," I moan as he sucks and bites a spot on my neck.

"You little minx," he breathes against my mouth. His hands travels to my hair and grabs a bunch before yanking on it lightly making my head tilt up a bit. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

"I may know on some leve-, ah," I let out a yelp when he yanks on my hair.

"Brat." He growls, attacking my neck with wet kisses and biting the delicate skin. "I had to tell the boys I was going for my nightly rides," he gives a long sniff before coming up. "But they don't know I was going with you."

Fuck.

I'm then hoisted up on the bike as he settles himself between my legs and kisses me again. His kisses are desperate and dominating. I reach for his jeans when his hands grab my arm. "Nuh uh, baby." He makes me stand and spins me around. "I need to be inside you."

"But, ah!" I moan as his palm makes contact with my right ass cheek as he bends me over.

He wastes no time and removes my black panties from under my skirt. "Damn. You're perfect." I hear something ripping which I think was a condom wrapper.

And then, in one swift motion, he snaps his hips into me. My eyes roll back in my head as I groan at his girth, feeling the stretch. "Fuck," I groan. I've imagined this moment in my delusional mind but this was beyond my dreams. "How are you this big?"

"Fuck, you're so tight," he moans as he pulls out completely before snapping his hips against me. "This cunt was made for me, fuck you feel so good."

"Chan."

He gradually picks up speed as his hand travel around my waist towards my throbbing clit. The only sound you could hear was our heavy breathing, into the darkness surrounding us. I felt the tight knot in my lower belly ready to burst. "Chan, please."

"Fuck, yes!" He grunts, now slamming into me. "You're close, aren't you? You gonna cum? You gonna cum for me?"

I nod my head. "Yes!"

His fingers rubs my clit and I see stars in front of my eyes as my climax hits me the hardest, my legs shaking but he doesn't stop. "Oh, fuck. Fuck, you're gonna make me cum. I'm gonna cum." His hips ram into me a few more times before he stills, spilling his seed into the rubber.

We stay like that for a few minutes, catching our breaths. He finally pulls out and I groan at the odd feeling. I try to move but my legs refused to budge. "Uhm."

I hear him zipping up his jeans. "You okay?"

"I can't move."

"What?"

"My legs."

He softly chuckles as he walks over and grabs both my arms, lifting me up. I shriek. "Put me down!"

"Hold still!"

He turns me around and puts me on the bike with my legs hanging over. Placing his hands on the lower part of my legs, he gently starts massging them. "Good?"

"Hmm," I savour the feeling coming back to my legs. "You should've started with this first."

"Oh, really?"

The nerve of this guy, showing me his dimples. "I'm a sucker for massages."

"Noted," he says as he comes up, face to face. "Say, what are you doing next weekend?"

"Why, you wanna take me a on a date?"

"Yeah. Is that a problem?"

"Well, considering how this date went, I might agree to it."

"Brat," he pecks my lips before he picks up the helmets and hands me mine. "You're more than welcome to feel me up again once we're on the road."

My cheeks heat, my blush making its permanent stay on my entire face. "Wha....I wasn't feeling you up!"

"Uh huh," he says wearing his helmet and grins turning his head towards me. "And I didn't give you the best sex of your life just now."

I narrow my eyes at him as I hop off to let him sit first. As he turns on the ignition, I climb on behind him. He grabs my hands and places them around his waist. And the we were off, into the same darkness that surrounded us mere minutes ago.

Who knew I would be startstruck by the guy I watched on my laptop and phone was interested in me? And the biker dude? Oh man. If only the world knew what we just did.....

A/N: wtf did I just write 💀

[janicekao]

No, Fuck You!

Pairing: Richie Jerimovich x Black oc (dark smut) Summary: Based off of season one of the series "The Bear." Carmen Berzatto, a culinary expert has to put his career on hold after his brother Michael's su1c1de being that Michael left the family's restaurant in Carmy's name. The restaurant is busted, in debt, and the staff is hardheaded. Carmy's "cousin" Richie is especially hardheaded. He's 45, doesn't like change in the restaurant, dabbles in illegal side hustles, thinks he's Italian, acts ghetto af, his attitude sucks, he's always cussing, and he is just a lot to deal with it. My addition to the story is an OC young lady who is hired at the restaurant to help with the finances and how badly her And Richie bump heads... until of course, they don't! Warnings: age gap, profanity, vi0lence, smut, fan fiction, public s3x,cr3am pi3, office siren aesthetic, submissive male, toxic, bwwm, fanfic, the bear, quickie, etc. 4038 words I also recommend viewing the story in Wattpad where I was able to use 20 photos in the story instead of tumblr's 10. Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 ------------------------------

It's a chilly winter morning in Chicago, and instead of sleeping in snuggly in his warm bed, Richie Jerimovich pulls into his job smoking an early morning ciggie with his suspended license in the pocket of his jeans.

Having trouble sleeping at night pure usual, Richie decides to pop into his job at a restaurant called The Beef two hours early before opening... Before there is even daylight. Although he yawns, he'd rather work instead of staring up at his bedroom ceiling thinking about how his wife is divorcing him, his daughter is growing up without her dad, and how he hardly has enough money to make his own rent next week... Richie enters through the back door of the restaurant and takes off his favorite leather jacket as he places it in his locker.

He grabs his uniform, a white apron and his favorite Tshirt with "The Beef" plastered across the right corner of the fabric.

Staring into the tiny and incredibly dirty locker sized mirror, he takes his gold chain from the inside of his shirt and dangles it on the outside of it. He smooths down his uncombed hair and prickly beard as he begins to chuckle cockily at his reflection. "You suave motherfucker you."

As Richie closes the door of his locker, he nearly jumps out of his skin... Spooked suddenly by the new girl who quietly stands behind his locker.

"Fucking hell!" He complains. "Lexie? Do I need to put a fucking bell on you or something? Don't ever sneak up on me! Make yourself known when you walk into a building!"

"Or what?" She instigates. "You'll pop me with that stupid fucking gun you lug around the restaurant with?"

"Yeah, maybe!" He scoffs. "Maybe I fucking will! And before you start, don't give me shit about the fact that I carry heat on me! If you were smart, you'd care a little pussy-pink magnum in your purse... walking around Chicago like you're untouchable, are you fucking insane?"

Lexie rolls her eyes.

"All I'm saying is make yourself known when you walk in here." He continues. "You got me?"

Lexie widens her stance as if Richie who is nearly a foot taller than her couldn't bench press her weight if he felt like it. "No, fuck you! You are the one who should make yourself known... I've been here long before you have."

He becomes even more short-tempered... "Sweetie, I've been here before you were even born!"

"I am speaking of this morning!" Lexie continues. "I thought you were some hobo breaking in through the back... But, it seems that I wasn't too far off."

"Fuck you. Why are you even here?" Richie wouldn't be Richie without furthering an argument. "You can't count the receipts up during your shift?! O-Or complete the payroll from your own fucking house!?"

Lexie's fists tighten. "If it were up to me, your greasy ass wouldn't even be on the payroll."

Richie chuckles... a laugh that fills Lexie with rage. "Well good thing it isn't up to you!"

"Now sign my check and hand it here." He grabs at her arm full of paperwork.

"Not until Friday!" Gritting her teeth, Lexie snatches away with all of her might. "If you're so broke, try being more charming to the customers and maybe you could take home some nice tips at night!"

She continues. "—BUT! Welcoming a customer inside by calling him 'the man with the golden dick' will get you nothing! I mean, seriously Richie?!

Richie had no idea Lexie pays so much attention to how he speaks to his regulars everyday... He feels that the people of Chicago love his charm and personality... Hell!— Arrogantly, he even believes that they come to The Beef just to see him!

Richie becomes offended. "Okay, first off�� fuck you, and secondly— that's the best compliment a man could ever get!"

Lexie rolls her eyes once more before she turns to leave him.

—But, Richie just doesn't know how to quit. "Listen princess you're not here to teach us etiquette okay!? I seriously don't get why they hired you, Carmy's sister Sugar does all the paperwork here anyways!"

Lexie turns around, coming back to the argument as she reddens and continues to shout. "Because Sugar has a full time job and a husband, Richie! She can't spend all her time in this dump going through paperwork full of dust mites!"

"Fine, then why are you here at 4am?" Richie folds his arms, leaning against the lockers to stop Lexie from walking away. "I can't believe they gave you a fucking key."

"The feeling's mutual." Lexie nudges his forehead with her fingertips. "Giving you a key is as responsible as handing it to a bum on the metro. Now get out of my way!"

"You don't need to get nasty young lady." Richie's jaw clenches. He becomes terribly annoyed that the new girl can actually keep up with his banter— and the fact that she might just be better at it. "Take it back."

Lexie grins sarcastically. "Fuck you."

He flips her off. Using his fingertips under his chin, his favorite gesture when he's already said 'fuck you' enough.

She rolls her eyes. "As if I don't see you do that a thousand times a day. Grow up Richie! You're such a fucking child."

Wanting to leave the locker room, Lexie can't help but become curious as well.

"My turn." She insists, placing her items in an opened locker. "Now, why are you here?"

...

Richie gulps... He rather not talk about the stress of his life with a girl he swears is the worst investment the restaurant has ever made...

He came to work to clear his head, not to express to some chick that he feels like a forty-five year old deadbeat with no purpose in life.

"I dunno— checking... supplies and shit." He lies.

"No..." Lexie doesn't buy it. "I am here checking supplies for a list of our expenses and doing some budgeting—"

"BUDGETING!?" Richie explodes on his last straw. "Okay fuck this, you twenty-something-year olds have already changed the budget ten times!!! How much more money do we need to save!? The restaurant has already cut out so many classic dishes from the menu and now you're gonna cut back more!?"

"Yes! And if you're so concerned about how much money we bring in, try selling more sandwiches instead of eating them all fucking day!" Lexie blinks her long lashes sarcastically, making Richie fume even more and lose all of his patience.

"Damn it! I've had it with you!" Standing over Lexie, Richie begins to threaten her with a strong finger point into her face. "I have tried to be a gentleman, but you've taken me up to here!" He hovers his hand high above his head, expressing that her attitude has got him through the fucking roof.

"First of all..." Richie continues as he immaturely picks at her looks. "—You look fucking ridiculous! Coming into The Beef looking like a fucking principal in a tight fucking pencil skirt! Put on a Tshirt, and get elbow deep in some fucking grease! That's what we need! Not some Mary Poppins-fucking-secretary!"

"It's called business casual." She chuckles. "And as if we need some forty-five year old washup who leaves cigarettes everywhere, and smokes a pack a day!"

"You can't cook, you can't clean, and money comes up short every time you work the registers!"

"Fuck you, liar!" Becoming so unbelievably heated, strained veins of tension stands out of his neck each time he shouts. "I'd never mooch from this place! This place is my home, my family!"

"No?" She tilts her head in curiosity. "Well, what about you selling coke out of the back alley too! What would you call that!?"

"LABOR AND INVESTMENT." He shouts. "I'm making ends meet for this shit-hole because someone has to do it when the money gets fucking low! Tell me sweetheart, how the fuck do you think this place survived during Covid??? ME!"

...

Richie begins to insult her under his breath. "Maybe if your brains were half as big as your fat ass you'd understand better."

"EXCUSE ME!?" Lexie loses her calm.

For a moment there, she was able to keep up with Richie's attitude in a professional manner... However now, her fist down his throat would look pretty good to her.

Richie doesn't repeat himself...

"No! Fucking go ahead!" Lexie argues and begins to push against him, antagonizing a coming fight and nudging him for more. "You want to talk shit, then let's talk shit!"

"What are you doing? Now you wanna fucking fight me tough guy?" Richie rolls his eyes. "Listen, you're pressing your tits on me, you need to back off before we have a problem"

"YOU ARE THE FUCKING PROBLEM!!" Lexie lets out her true feelings of hatred towards him. "Do you know how smoothly this restaurant could run without you constantly aggravating someone!? You stress Carmy out every fucking day! I don't understand why he doesn't just fucking fire you already!"

She continues. "Name one day Richie, ONE DAY that you haven't aggravated someone over their limits with your constant bullshit?"

He scoffs. "It's because you fucking Chicago-gentrifying-fucking-millennials are pussies!!! No backbone!! Upset over everything. You, Carmy, and Sydney!"

"For someone who isn't good at shit, you sure are good at pissing people off!" Lexie continues to bark. "For Christ sake! Sydney stabbed you the other day in your ass for being such a prick!"

Embarrassed with his known behavior, Richie refuses to meet Lexie in her dagger like dark brown eyes.

"Syd said it was an accident..."His voice becomes meek like a baby.

"I wouldn't blame her if it wasn't!" Lexie shouts.

So used to being the one who annoys everyone else, Richie gets a taste of his own medicine as he continues to be annoyed by Lexie's presence. "Why the fuck were you even hired Lexie!? To keep up with the books and money because you're in Chicago's fucking community college taking up a finance class?"

He laughs. "We don't need you here! You're probably just fucking Carmy, aren't you!?"

...

The insult goes too far... Lexie winds her hand back and slaps Richie clean across the face.

His cheek heats red, yet he was raised to never lay a finger back on a woman. "Fine." He gulps. "I probably deserved that."

Her large brown eyes eat away at his heart as Richie notices the comment humiliated her into making tears form and glass over at the surface of her eyes.

"God damn right you deserved it." Lexie holds back her tears and ill intentions to cause Richie serious bodily harm.

Little does she know, in Richie's own sick and twisted way, he only brought it up because he's curious if she's already been snatched up by some other guy on the staff. Because if he had the chance, maybe he'd even be interested in her himself...

But he's sure no uppity bitch like Lexie would even look in his direction.

"This is what I mean." She scoffs. "You're disrespectful, and you're a piece of shit who just causes arguments."

Richie rolls his eyes. "And I always finish them too! So what the fuck do you want to do about it?"

...

The wrong thing to say to a woman who is suddenly about to lose herself. Lexie instantly shoves him against the locker... causing the metal material to ring and bang out loudly.

He gulps, fearing that the young cutie has been pushed far past her limits and that he's about to get his ass kicked.

"Okay, that was all you that time. I didn't say shit to you to deserve that!" Richie argues, attempting to strike fear in her heart. "But you listen... If you put your fucking hands on me again, I swear to god—"

"That you'll do what?!" Lexie entices.

Although comically smaller than the large man, she yanks him down to the wooden locker bench before them. "Sit down!"

He surrenders with his hands held high. "Okay baby chill, you're losing your shit right now, you need to take a chill—"

She grips his face as she stands over him. "DO YOU EVER JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!?"

A question that Richie knows not to answer...

Lexie finds herself staring at the pink puckered lips within her grasp and her thoughts become insane.

A glimmer in both of their eyes immediately changes the tension in the room into something far more worth the adrenaline.

Lexie slips out of the panties beneath her short pencil skirt...

"What— what are you doing?" Richie mumbles as his middle-aged heart beats harder than it ever has.

"Occupying your mouth to keep it from running so fucking much." Her panties slip down off of her heels and into Richie's lap as she tugs a brutal grip onto his short strands of hair... With her grip, Lexie forces Richie's head back and his mouth open as she places her cunt across his tongue.

Shocked and confused, Richie puts in work anyway. His tongue glides through her folds that surprisingly have slicked during their entire morning spent arguing and he begins to devour her pussy... A cunt so fresh, fat, warm, and half of his age.

The baritoned groans of his voice heat her core like nothing she has ever felt before. Lexie instantly grabs hold onto Richie's shoulders before her weakening knees begin to fail her.

Her eyebrows furrow as she begins to sweetly complain. "Oh fuck Richie..."

Glad to see that Richie's mouth has a better use than just arguing, Lexies squeals lightly as her eyes roll backwards in pleasure. She continues to fuck his face and be teased sweetly by his prominent nose, prickly unshaven face, and wildly fat tongue.

Richie becomes painfully aroused within his jeans. He moans into her cunt as his strong fingers grip at her waist tightly, bringing her closer across his face so his tongue can explore the depths of her flesh even further.

Blessed, yet confused, he begins to pause during his every word from suckling and gently kissing on her tasty mound. "What—the fuck—" He continues. "Are we—doing?"

Lexie squeezes her eyes tightly shut, almost orgasming each time she notices his sky-blue eyes staring up at her.

She bites her lip. "Just don't stop."

Richie hums through her pussy. "Mmm, Okay baby, I won't not til you tell me too."

Hands beginning to reach up her hips to cup at her waist, Lexie's mouth hangs open ajar... infatuated with how his strong fingers nearly double over the tiny measurements of her waist. Richie's grip on her is so powerful, forcing her not to run from his probing tongue and the lewd suckling and squelching that sound sloppily between her thighs.

Her legs begin to shake... Richie feasts on her as if his job depends on it.

She drags her full bottom lip between her teeth, begging for mercy as her core tightens with butterflies. "Mmmm'oh my god!" She whines.

Looking towards the dusty clock in the kitchen that hasn't been cleaned in years, Lexie realizes how close it is to the beginning of everyone's shift... morning prep.

Although time is almost out, she refuses to finish without having Richie put in more work and hammer her with cock.

"Get up. She demands. "Fuck me."

Lexie watches as Richie stands and tears off his apron to get to his pants.

Inside his trousers, Richie reveals a handsome ten inch cock. Veins protruding and swollen hard as it stands erect towards his belly button, Lexie can't wait to have the peach toned dagger deep into her guts. She begins to grin, glad to have trusted her instincts about skinny, tall men, who aren't worth shit. Although maybe not material for a husband, always trust that they'll have a cock big and gorgeous enough that it makes it worth the price of dealing with the constant bullshit that comes along with it.

Lexie wraps her legs around Richie's waist as he unbuttons her top and kisses at her neck and the fullness of her breasts that bulge from out of the top of her bra.

He lifts her against the lockers with clear impatience as he reaches beneath her to direct his cockhead into her flesh.

She coos sweetly. The tip of his erection, bulbous and hot as it lubes itself through the lips of her cunt, sliding backwards until it meets her tight, however inviting opening. She hisses as Richie slowly bucks forward, sheathing himself into her body.

"Jesus, Lexie."He groans out. His member being choked perfectly by her tight pussy.

Richie's many inches continue to dig forward until his hips are flushed against hers. She winces in pain as she tucks her forehead into the crook of his neck.

Richie softly hushes her stress, kissing sweetly at the parts available on her pretty little face. "Just hold onto my neck, okay?"

Lexie agrees through a quickened nod. She wraps her arms around his neck, wincing as the strokes begin.

Richie pulls out half way and slowly returns back fully into her core for his first impale. The two synchronize in a lewd and guilty first moan.

Richie picks up his speed, hips beginning to snap against her spread opened thighs as her pussy sops sticky and wet for him.

Lexie weeps soft tears as she gets railed by someone that she loathes with her entire being.

As her breasts bounce and spill from out of her dress shirt, hair tangling from what was a perfect blowout this morning, she soon realizes that nothing could be more delicious than early morning hate sex.

Richie watches beneath them at how well the little minx can take his cock, her sweet begging and the banging of the old lockers up against them encouraging him to go stronger and make her take his cream.

He stares at her lips, trying his best not to kiss them being that he still is so confused on where they stand... not even fifteen minutes ago, he was a second away from getting his ass kicked by her, and now suddenly... he finds himself balls deep between her legs.

He gulps. "Tell me what you want."

"For you to shut the fuck up." Panting for air, Lexie's brain becomes mush and only wanting to think about their sex.

He chuckles softly, complimenting her under his breath. "You're so fucking beautiful..."

"Yes mama, I'll shut the fuck up." He obeys. "Now what else do you want?"

"Drill me." Her eyes become low and sinister like a siren, full of sinful desire and without any shame. "Fuck me harder."

He nods. "Whatever you want."

Lexie clenches tightly around his shaft as Richie suddenly picks up a dangerous speed, spasming and slapping into her cunt as if she needed to be disciplined.

Now fucked out of her heels, her toes curl within her stockings. She begins to push on his slim and toned stomach for space between them.

—but Richie won't allow it. "Move your fucking hands." He shoves them away.

Her cunt pulses around him. Brain circuit-shorting as she gets embarrassingly used like a cock sleeve by one of the most unrespectable men of this job.

Yet, she wouldn't have it any other way.

Her whimpers become strangled, lips wet with drool.

"Look at you." Richie teases as the corners of his mouth begin to quirk. "Talk so much shit all morning long, but get real quiet with a cock in you."

"Mmm." He continues, skin hot and flushed as he tries to talk himself away from cumming. "You like this shit baby?"

A sudden slow pace blows Lexie's mind as Richie's lower abdomen knocks into her sensitive pearl. The feeling sends her to the moon.

Her nails dig into Richie's forearms as her walls contract around him, pulling his cock deeper inside awaiting to drain him of all his cum.

Richie's jaw goes slack, hips locking in place as he lunges further into Lexie's pussy until their bodies are flushed together.

A choked groan exits the depths of his throat. "Oh my fucking—"

Lexie covers Richie'a mouth as she hears keys and morning conversation outside of the restaurant near the front entrance.

Richie's cock twitches as it sputters out with hot cum. Filling Lexie's cunt with his spend until it begins to web around him.

His pleads and moans are terribly loud as she uses a second hand over the first to silence him.

Lexie's eyes roll backwards as she bites her lip, enjoying the thrill of being stuffed with cum as he throbs and becomes limp inside of her.

"Richie..." she gulps, whispering tiredly. "You'll have to keep quiet."

...

Eyebrows furrowed as he becomes hooked on the sound of her soft and tired after-sex voice, he'll do whatever she asks him to.

He nods, obeying as a good boy does however nearly biting his tongue off to silence himself as she takes her hands away. "Fucking hell Lexie... Goddamn baby."

He finally calms from his explosive climax, helping Lexie to her feet as they quickly begin to redress.

Stunned, Richie can't help but to watch her (mostly in love) as she places the heels back onto her feet to continue about her day.

Still alone near the lockers, they hurry to prep themselves before the crew comes inside in a few seconds.

"Jesus!" Richie laughs in excitement. "That was the best fuck I've had in—in, well fuck! In my whole fucking life."

Lexie rolls her eyes as he becomes giddy like a schoolboy.

With romance on his mind, Richie nearly begins to plan a day for her to meet his mother, hell— a day for them to marry! "Listen, babygirl, there's this incredible Italian spot on West Avenue, let me take you out—"

"Richie, please. Just shut up." Lexie ignores him as she quickly rebuttons her top and grabs her belongings from the locker.

...

He frowns, suddenly becoming furious.

"Alright wait a minute!" Richie refuses. "I just gave you a raw fuck in the back of the locker room and now I'm getting the cold shoulder? Are you my girl or what?"

Lexie scoffs.

"Fucking old guys..."She sighs in a quiet whisper, speaking mostly to herself. "Give em pussy once and they get all clingy."

Their arguing comes back at full speed. "It's not old guys you little fucking slut! It's called class, and respect! I wanted to take you out. Lexie, what the fuck do you even want with me?"

"Exactly what we had." She shrugs.

"What?" He lashes back. "I piss you off and then you go all horny she-devil on me and fuck my brains out?"

Lexie freezes in thought. "...yes"

Richie can't believe what he's hearing.

He scoffs, beginning to laugh in disbelief. "You're bugging. You're fucking insane, you know that?"

Lexie sighs as she continues to hurry from what they just committed. "I like things to be simple, okay? Did you enjoy it or not?"

Richie rolls his eyes. Pissed as if he's been used like a two cent whore. "Of course I did, fuck you Lexie.Don't ask me no stupid shit like that, you know I did."

Out of breath as the door chimes begin to ring up front, Lexie smiles softly. "Good! So you just be Richie, I'll be Lexie, and maybe we'll do it again sometime."

"Understand?" She questions, setting boundaries with Richie who is clearly a romantic.

...

He pauses.

Lexie sighs. "Do I need to ask again?"

"No." He pouts, spoiled from a taste of good pussy.

"Good." Lexie nods and grins tightly as if they just shook hands over a business deal before she begins to walk away.

"Hey." Richie grabs her. "Wait. —Kiss me."

"I'm not going to kiss you." Lexie tugs at his grasp, yet she isn't able to get out of it.

He bears over her... forcing her eyes upon him as he demands for what he wants. "Damn it Lexie, I'm not asking. Kiss me before I start making a fucking scene in here."

...

Lexie rolls her eyes, knowing that denying him of this isn't worth outing what they've done together.

"Fine." She gives in.

Placing his hands at her waist, Richie pulls her against him. His right hand reaches towards her face where he watches her closely... sweetly brushing her baby hairs out of his view. The hand softly cups the side of her face... wide enough to caress her jaw and neck as he forces her unto her toes to meet his lips.

Their lips finally meet... And the kiss is unbelievably tender... Quickly expanding into something more as their mouths open and tongues tangle.

Richie presses her tighter towards him, hand now trailing from her waist to a smack and grip onto her ass. The other hand leaves her cheek to his digits pulling tightly at her long black tresses.

Their eyes continue to stay closed as their moans heat each other's mouths. Tongue fucking each other with more heat than their actual sex...

Lexie finds herself breath taken and begging for more as Richie pulls away with an intoxicating sexy bite and pull to her bottom lip.

Her eyes soon flutter open.. She gulps, unsure to why it was the most romantic kiss that she has ever had.

Richie grins as he notices the stunning blush that begins to heat her face.

"Now..." Richie bites his lip as he continues to stare at her beauty, smoothing her hair and tucking it behind her ears. "Now you can go."

Unsure of the butterflies in her stomach, she stares into Richie's eyes and slowly nods.

Slightly mad at herself for feeling a growing crush, she can't believe that it is what she's thinking it is... Hell!— She'd even have to beat her own ass if she were to begin falling for Richie Jerimovich...

"I-I have to go now." Lexie gulps.

"Mhm." He nods. "Have an excellent day, sweetie."

She stumbles lightly over her feet, still high off of Richie's kiss and he quietly begins to chuckle.

He's got her right where he wants her. Although Lexie claims to not want anything serious, he's determined to convince her otherwise.

The crew finally begins to pour inside and Richie wishes everyone a good morning.

He loves his job... He loves his family here.

A team of hard working Chicago locals, just trying to make it through day by day. Real people working real jobs.

The Beef is Richie's home. And if things go right... One day, Lexie could be that too.

As Carmy readies himself for the day and prepares himself to run a business he never expected to own... He shouts, wanting a minute alone with his cousin Richie as they dap each other up while they greet.

"Aye good morning, talk to me for a sec Cousin..." Carmy begins. "Listen Richie, when you and Michael began hiring for the restaurant, you hired people who quickly became like family. You have a knack for this Richie, and I trust your judgement."

Carmy continues. "I wanted to ask you, what do you think about this new girl on the books? Yeah, she's saved us a lot of money and things are running smooth as shit... but is she one of us? Can she keep up with the crew?"

Richie shrugs.

Reaching into the pockets of his jeans, his fingers rustle the lace fabric of Lexie's thong that he kept as a souvenir from their early morning quickie before the break of dawn.

The thought of their morning together alone suddenly makes Richie's heart flutter and eats wildly at his soul...

"Yeah." He gulps. "She's a fucking bitch... but yeah, she's one of us. She's part of the family."

"So fuck it... she stays?" Carmy asks.

Richie chuckles. "Yeah.. if we're lucky."

A delivery man pops inside the restaurant as they continue to chat and Carmy signs a form on the man's clipboard before the man leaves again.

"What was that for?" Richie yawns. "Ordered more napkin supply or some shit."

"Nope! All good on supplies." Carmy pats Richie on the back. "Just signing the invoice on the security cameras we had installed last week."

...

A chill suddenly falls down Richie's spine.

He looks up at the ceiling, noticing the new cameras installed in every corner of the restaurant. The entrance, the counter, the kitchen, and the fucking locker room.

Richie freezes in absolute horror. "Oh fuck."

[zoe-is-amazingg]

You're just not my type Prt 3

Jock!Ethan Landry X Guitarist!F!Reader

W/C - 1.5 K

Summary - Ethan definitely has an idea about what you think about him

Warnings - just making out.

A/N - I'm so happy i'm trying to finish this rn. im also done wit the flashbacks sooo

Last part * Next part *

Request rules * Taglist request *

You slowly walk into school, your headphones over your ears, it's been a week since you've last seen Bryce and you're living for it. You practically wanted nothing to do with him and recently, someone else was definitely trying to get in with you.

Ethan, that is.

He has been interacting with you all week, talking to you, flirting with you, he even has been asking you about your guitar. You weren't used to all this male attention surrounding you. Ethan's friends were slowly talking to you, finding you interesting and asking things about you too.

But out of all of them, Ethan is the one that you seem to like the most. He seems caring and kind and nice. He was cute as hell, but you really didn't want this to be another Bryce situation where he ends up being a dick to you in five days.

You're walking and just minding your own business when someone pulls off your headphones and you turn around. Of course, it was Ethan.

"Ethan give them back!" You huff as he puts them on his head. You really wanted to go to art early. He nods his head and hums to the tune of the song just a little bit before he takes them off and puts them around your neck.

"Is that...Your own music?" He asks you, looking deeper into your eyes than anyone else ever has before. He had this strong cologne on and on top of how his hair looked it the sun, it was intoxicating to you. You wanted to rip the varsity jacket off and kiss him.

"Uh, yes, actually. It's just something I've been working on for the moment, nothing too special." You state and He nods. He smirks at you and then steps back.

"That's really good," He states, and you blush, what the hell was happening to you. In a minute you'll start giggling like a fucking schoolgirl. "Can I meet you in the music room after this class. I really want to hear you play in person." You shake your head, and he sighs. You look into his eyes for a moment and groan. "Fuck it, sure, I'll see you there."

You slowly walk away and sigh as you put your headphones over your ears. You arrive at art, being a bit over 5 minutes late, you were never late and by the way everyone was looking at you, you could tell their thinking the same. You take your headphones off and take your seat at the back.

"Gentlemen and Gentlewoman, I really want this next piece for your portfolio to really tell me about your emotions." The teacher says. You weren't one for emotions really, but maybe these new feelings for your browned haired friend could bring out some good work. "I want this to reflect what the past month has been like in about three to five paintings, show me your emotions and the journey that your emotions go through."

"What the hell." You mumble. This month for you has been terrible, except for the past week. Your friend, Casey, looks at you. He was a great artist and an even better friend; he calls you constantly.

"I know you're not good with your emotions, but you should really use your feelings for Ethan. Their only blossoming into new for you, Bryce was a shit dude. Ethan seems like he's good for you. You seem happier." That was deep as hell. What the fuck.

You will admit to yourself that you do seem happier ever since Ethan's come into your life. So maybe that party was worth it. "I don't know, he asked me to meet him after this class to get him to watch me play. I don't know if I should go." You mumble.

"Y/N. I swear to god. If you don't go, you'll wish you did because I'll legit kill you." Casey says and you groan. "Fuck you, fuck it. I'll go!" You groan.

"Yessss! Please do! He loves you! It's so obvious." Casey rolls his eyes. You roll your eyes and get up and walk away. You put on your apron and grab 3 paint brushes, a cup of water and some light blue, pastel purple and pink and yellow. That's what you felt like doing at the time anyway

You go back to your desk and sit down. You place all the objects onto the table and slump back down into your seat. You turn around with your chair and grab a canvas and paint palette.

You turn back around to your desk and place the canvas and palette down. You squeeze a little bit of each color onto the palette and wet the smallest paint brush you grabbed. You dip it into the pink paint, someone in the corner of the classroom catches your eye. You slowly take off your headphones and put them into your bag.

"I'm here for Y/N." Ethan says. Your jaw drops. What the fuck is he doing? You don't come to his basketball practice. You were painting, you're not packing up because you just started. "Why does Y/N need to come with you?"

"Something important has come up and I really need her to come with me Mrs Warner." Ethan says. He looks at you and you shake your head. "Sure, go ahead, take Y/N. I'm not fighting with 21-year-old about a girl leaving class early."

"I'll pack up your stuff." Casey smirks at you. You grab your bag and leave with him. You both walk in silence for a moment, you're finding the right words because in your head, everything you wanted to say was mixed together.

"Where are we going?" You ask. He shakes his head at you and chuckles. Fuck. He is not taking you to the studio. "By the way your face expressions are, I think you just realized." He chuckles at you. You didn't want to play for him, you were planning on not showing up. But what's the worst that can happen?

You walk with him for a moment and then you both arrive at the studio. You really weren't keen on playing for him. He opens the door and there's your guitar, in all its beauty. "Y/N. Look, if you don't want to play for me, that's fine, I don't want you to feel like you have to." He says to you, clearly it was obvious that you were nervous to play infront of him.

"No, I want too. I just haven't really played my own music in front of someone before." You mutter, you both go inside the studio, and he closes the door. You pick up the electric guitar and set it up so it can make noise from the speakers. Ethan looks at you and slowly pulls the guitar out of your hands and lightly rests it on the wall.

He grabs your hands and looks at you directly into your eyes. He slowly rubs circles into the back of your hands. He drops onto his knees, and you can't even believe this is happening to you. "Are you okay?" He asks.

"Fine, fine. Don't worry about me." You whimper. He nods, clearly not convinced with your answer. He hands you back the guitar and you turn the volume up on it lightly. "Just pretend I'm not here."

You close your eyes. Fuck why is the this so damn scary. You start playing a little bit to see if it's tuned. It is and now you can't waste any more time. You slowly start with a hammer on and start playing. You play for about two minutes before you stop. Ethan's jaw is wide open and shocked.

"That's really fucking good." He mutters. You didn't know what to say. He did not just say your good. It felt like a praise. It was a praise. God, you wanted him so bad. You hand him the guitar. "Sit down, I'll give you a lesson." You say and his eyes light up. "Really?"

"Yes, now sit down before I change my mind." You sigh. He nods and sits down. The guitar is placed on his lap, and he picks it up the way you did before. He puts the strap over his shoulders. "What next ma'am?" He asks jokingly. You walk over and stand over him. You grab his hands and use your hands lead where his are going.

You let him play a little riff and then stop. He looks up at you and says "Fuck it, I cant pretend anymore." He mutters and you tilt your head.

What is he on about? Your thoughts are cut short when his lips connect with yours. Your lips move and fit perfectly together. He slides the guitar off him and places it onto the floor. You slowly move your body so you're standing basically on top of him. You slowly get pulled onto his lap and you hook your hands around his neck.

Someone opens the door, and you break the kiss to look at the person. It's the one person you did not want to talk too.

Bryce.

Taglist - @idky5

[pullhisteeth]

okay so… i’m aspec, and i wanted to start off with how much i love how you characterize eddie! his sweet persistent attentiveness is totally what draws me to him. anyway… since you asked for requests, what about eddie reacting to being told reader isn’t ready for sex yet, or maybe that juxtaposed with when they are ready? eddie being patient and happy to hold off… maybe putting an emphasis on nonsexual intimacy or even nudity without it being sexualized? idk just a few ideas, you don’t have to include the aspec stuff if you don’t want but just the reader not being ready and focusing on other ways to feel close to him would be amazing 🥺

hi!!! I found this in my drafts - I am so sorry it took me so long! big love 2 u. <3 (gn!reader, suggestive themes, angst, Eddie being a sweetheart, mention of drugs)

-

Frustrated, you bring your knees up and kick your comforter down, over your legs and to the end of the bed. The cool air hits your skin like a wave, and it brings enough relief that you can close your eyes for a moment.

The sheets feel like wet sandpaper tonight, clinging to every inch of you. Your pyjamas are nearly as bad.

You turn over and squint through the darkness at the clock beside your bed. It's just past two in the morning, and you huff another irritated noise when you realise you only have four hours until you have to be up for work. You can see it now: you'll drift off, hopefully, at some point in the next few hours, only to be rudely awoken at 6:15 by your alarm. You'll drag yourself into work, where Fiona, the lady you open with on a Friday, will tell you that you look like hell and offer you a modafnil. You'll decline, and when you clock off in the afternoon, you'll head home, fall asleep, and wake in the middle of the night to repeat the process.

You're not sure where she gets the myriad of drugs she seems to carry with her. For a while, you assumed she just had a hefty prescription – she's at least in her late fifties, and age hasn't dissuaded her from smoking a pack a day – but sometimes you catch her at the dishwasher or by the bins out back, swallowing something from another orange bottle. Once, when you were emptying the trash, you found one. It was Xanax.

Maybe there's a drug for this, you think. Because, surely, it's some kind of disorder, a syndrome, something abnormal. Your beautiful, lovely, sexy boyfriend, kind and wild and falling for you, and you still can't find that urge to rip his clothes off.

You turn onto your back again, head slotted between two pillows, and stare blankly at the ceiling, turning over the previous evening in your head. It burns, the embarrassment, like white-hot fire under your skin. Your hair flares, lifting from the hot shame, when you think about his face, the drop of his hands from your waist, the awkward way you let yourself out and came home. He didn't call.

-

"I'm gonna go clock out."

You reach behind your back to untie your apron, using your elbow to push through the kitchen door back into the diner. Fiona barely turns to acknowledge you from where she's hunched over, polishing a glass, giving a short noise of agreement as you make your way to the staff room. You pull yourself through your routine, throwing the apron in the hamper and shoving your timecard into the machine, before you stop before you reach for your bag.

You realise that you have no way of getting home.

Eddie usually picks you up, but he won't be here today. And you're tired, so tired, too tired to walk home. You'd only finally gotten to sleep a few hours before you woke, just as you'd expected. Your legs feel like lead.

As you mull over your options, you pull your bag over your shoulder and grab your jacket. And when you push the door open, you nearly cry, because sat in his usual spot, right by the door, is your stupid, lovely boyfriend.

He looks up at you when he hears the door, and the first thing you notice is how tired he looks, too. He's a little puffy, almost like he's only just woken up – his hair tells you the same, curls going wild amongst one another, sticking out at every angle. He wears a sad smile as his gaze lingers on you, and you feel yourself nearly crumble under it.

He stands as you make your way over. Just as he does every day, he takes your bag from you and slings it over his own shoulder, and he reaches out and takes your hand, and it's then that you let go.

The tears come quicker than you can stop them, silent, hot rivers running down your face. He tugs gently on your hand, urges you out of the door, not giving his usual quick-whip goodbye to Fiona, and pulls you across the lot to his van.

When he opens the door for you as he always does, helping you in and dropping your bag by your feet, he rubs your knee with one hand and takes your face in the other.

"We're gonna talk about it when we get home, 'kay?" he says, and his voice sounds just as tired as he looks. "Please don't cry."

All you can give him is a nod, but he takes it, squeezing your knee as a quick goodbye before closing the door and jogging around to his side. The ride home is quiet, besides your sniffling, and his hand plants back on your knee for most of it. You look out the window and feel the sun on your face, made hotter as it passes through the glass. Your eyes close and you breathe, and as it paints your skin with a golden heat, you begin to think that maybe this won't be as bad as you've made yourself believe.

You like Eddie's home, perhaps moreso than your own. Yours is lonesome, but Eddie's is full of love. His uncle likes photographs and souvenirs and clutter, and it makes their little trailer feel like the warmest place on earth.

Today, though, it's tainted, edges burned by the memory of the night before. You daren't think about it, too worried about crying more than you already have, but it's difficult when you have to look at the door you slammed in Eddie's face 18 hours ago.

"C'mon," he says, squeezing your thigh and opening his door. You pull your bag onto your knee and do the same, hopping out and following him slowly up the steps. Inside, he takes your bag again, hanging it on a hook by the kitchen, while you take off your sneakers and traipse over to his couch. You don't dare to sit down, though, until he's back by your side pleading with you to.

"What's got you all wound up, hm?" he asks, taking your hand in his, and his voice is like honey, making you want to cry again. You breathe in a short, sharp breath instead and try desperately to ignore the white-hot burn of exhaustion and shame behind your eyes.

You sit and he follows, using his other hand to wipe away the tears as they come. You must look a mess, you think, all tired with huge, dark marks beneath your eyes and cheeks wet from crying. But he's looking at you like he always does, fond as ever.

"Why'd you run off like that last night?" he asks.

"I-" You try to answer, but the words are lost on you, lodged in the thickness of your throat. His arms wind around you and you lean in, lost to the familiarity of it. Your sobs, broken by hiccups and broken breaths, are in freefall.

He soothes you, leaning back so you're lying on his chest. His hands run up and down your back as he kisses the crown of your head and whispers that it'll be okay, that you're okay, we're okay.

"I'm sorry," you say into his t-shirt.

"For what?"

You wish you could tell him, and you wish he wouldn't ask. Isn't it obvious? You stormed out, you slammed the door in his face, you didn't call, you let it get this far, you led him on knowing you'd feel like this.

"For crying on your shirt," you say.

He chuckles and you feel it, the deep rumble of laughter in his chest. He twists underneath you, turning the two of you on your sides to lie facing one another, mostly so he can get a good look at your face.

"I have other shirts," he tells you.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologising."

"Sorry."

He laughs again and you can't help but break a smile.

"So," he begins. "Why'd you go?"

"I just…" You sigh and he sees the way your face twists, contorting into something like frustration, so he eases the grip of his arms around you to let you sit up. You do, leaning on his bent knees, and look up to the ceiling. 

"I feel… I feel like I've led you on."

"What?" He sounds surprised, which in turn surprises you, because surely he can see that that's what's happening here.

"Eddie, I don't know how to… I can't explain it."

He doesn't say anything. The couch dips and creaks as he sits up, knees crossed, opposite you, imploring you to try.

"I... I can't give you what I'm meant to."

He looks back at you bewildered, and for a brief flash you feel the burn of frustration. You'd usually find this endearing, but all of this would be easier if he would fill in the blanks by himself.

"I don't want to have sex, Eddie."

You watch the dawning of realisation on his face, the twist and the widening. His eyes search your face as you hold it in, the dam close to bursting again, and then he softens.

"Oh, baby, you should've just said."

He reaches over, a hand on your ankle, holding you there as if to stop you leaving.

How could you ever?

"What do we do?" you ask him after a beat. You're looking at one another, you at him because you're sure this is the final time you'll get the chance, and him at you because he's sure he's never loved anybody like this before in his life.

"What do you mean?"

"Eddie, don't make me-"

"You're not leaving me," he tells you. It's not a question, or a plea, but a statement of fact. You're here, with me. You're not going anywhere. I'm not going to make you go anywhere.

"I don't want to," you say quietly.

"And," he begins, inching closer, taking your waist in his big hands to pull you in. "I'm not leaving you."

He resumes his position on his back, you pressed comfortably to his chest. You feel his heartbeat, quicker than usual, and feel a pang of remorse that you've made him so nervous.

You think back to the evening before - when he'd got handsy, and you'd liked it, but then the clothes had started coming off and you'd freaked, pulling your things into a bag and running out the door before he could stop you - and it's suddenly muddied by distance, a memory trapped somewhere far away.

"I'm just not ready," you tell him, cheek to his chest, feeling his fingers run through your hair.

"'S'okay," he murmurs. "I'll be here if you ever are. Or if you never are. Either way."

-

[trulybetty]

dec' 12 x mulled wine

Prompt: mulled wine Pairing: joel miller x f!Reader Word Count: 2,635 Warnings: barely beta'd, all mistakes my own, this is au and way off the plot of anything to do with TLOU, mentions of coffee, wine and festive fluff ☕ Summary: maplewood, a small town nestled in northern bc where people flock to see the festive decorations of main street and enjoy the festive traditions. finding yourself back home and working for the family business, you strike up a friendship with the town's local contractor. AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

A/N: apologies for the delay, no one has slept in the Truly house the last two nights and I somehow have messed up my shoulder. Currently drowning in coffee and painkillers - so if this doesn't make sense you know why 😆

The Little Coffee Shop Around the Corner Part II

It had been a week since you had talked to Joel about working on the coffee shop. The two of you went back and forth over email, and that was between his early morning stops for coffee. You'd have his drink already prepared by the time the bell jingled at 7:50 am signifying his arrival. Tossing your apron aside and grabbing your own drink you'd go and meet him at the table in front of the window to discuss the latest update of his ideas for the shop.

It was early evening when the bell rang at the door and you looked up to see Joel step in and lock the door behind him.

“You should have that locked past closing.”

You laughed as you rounded the bar to start a drink for the two of you, “Joel, this is Maplewood. The only crime that's been worth reporting was when Bill found gnomes in his yard.”

Joel shrugged off his plaid jacket and hung it on the back of his chair before he sat down.

“Did they ever figure out who did it?”

You laughed as you brought over your drinks and a selection of sugar cookies Marcus had dropped by for tomorrow's display case.

A grin spread across your face as you leaned in closer, speaking in a hushed tone, “Off the record, and between you and I? I have my suspicions.”

“That so? Who do you think it is?”

“Ellie,” you responded with a roll of your eyes.

His eyebrows raised in recognition, “She’s your niece, right? Lives with you?”

You nodded, “My sister Anna's kid yeah, with my mom and I.”

“I remember hearing about your sister, I'm sorry.”

“It's okay, it's been fourteen years now - Ellie reminds me of her a lot.”

Joel chuckled, “So she inherited the family tradition of placing gnomes in people's yards?”

A joyful laugh escaped your lips, the kind that brought tears to your eyes. It was refreshing to share stories and memories of your sister with someone who didn't give you a pitying look when inevitably it was mentioned how she had passed away during childbirth with Ellie. You knew people meant well, but it was nice to focus on the happy moments and remember just how amazing Anna truly was.

You wiped a tear from your eye, “No, but she was usually the one causing trouble wherever she went. Dragging me along with her into the thick of it.”

Joel smiled, “So what makes you think it was Ellie?”

“Aside from finding a random gnome in the laundry room? Well that and the fact Bill pissed her off the week before,” you took a bite of your cookie, brushing the crumbs from your hands, “Bill teaches music, right? So Ellie had been taking guitar lessons from him. She's got a real talent for it, but Bill, well, he's a bit of a stickler for the rules. He told her she needed to focus more on the basics before trying to play the songs she actually likes. Ellie didn't take too kindly to that.”

Joel chuckled, clearly amused, “So, she waged a gnome war as payback?”

You nodded, a small smile still playing on your lips. “I don't necessarily outwardly support it, but out of all the ways to get revenge, this was definitely a unique form of protest,” you admitted. “Though now, well Ellie's out of a guitar teacher.”

Joel's eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. “Maybe I could offer her a lesson or two. I play guitar, not professionally, but I’ve been strumming since my teenage years. It might be good for Ellie to learn from someone who’s a bit more... let’s say, flexible with the rules.”

You raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. “You play guitar? I had no idea. That would be amazing, Joel. Ellie’s really passionate about it, but she's definitely got her own style. She’d love to learn from someone who'd encourage that.”

As you chatted, the conversation carried on smoothly until it finally circled back to the purpose of Joel's visit.

He unrolled his first set of plans, “After our last conversation, I got to thinking about this place. Its history, its importance to Maplewood. So, I did some digging.”

He spread out an array of photos and documents across the table. The first thing that caught your eye was a black-and-white photo of the coffee shop from its early days, with your grandmother proudly standing in front.

“I found these at the library,” Joel explained. “I wanted to understand the roots of this place, to see it through the eyes of your grandmother when she first opened it.”

You were touched by his thoughtfulness and attention to detail. Each photo, each document, told a story of a different era of the coffee shop, of community and warmth.

“And this,” Joel continued, pointing to the plans, “is what I've been working on. I was thinking we could expose the original brick on this wall. It'll give the shop a rustic feel while adding a modern flair.”

The plans were detailed and considerate, blending the old with the new. Joel had thought of everything, from preserving the original woodwork to incorporating energy-efficient lighting. It was clear he had put a lot of time and effort into this.

You leaned in to examine the sketches, impressed by Joel's vision. “It's amazing, Joel. I... I don't know what to say,” you managed, your emotions swirling.

Joel looked at you earnestly, “I know how much this place means to you and your family, and to Maplewood. I wanted to honour its past. And I think we can do it in a way that's cost-effective and true to the spirit of True North Brews.”

You took a moment, absorbing the plans, the pictures, the possibilities. “This is more than I ever expected. You've captured the essence of what my grandmother wanted this place to be.”

As you both leaned over the table, examining the renovation plans, your hands brushed against each other. The brief contact sent a jolt of electricity through both of you, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

Joel cleared his throat, a hint of colour rising to his cheeks. “So, um, the Jingle Bell Movie Night is coming up,” he began, trying to sound casual. “I was thinking of taking Sarah there. Maybe... you'd like to join us? I mean, if you're not too busy with the event.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the invitation. You had been so focused on setting up the drinks station for the event that the idea of actually enjoying the evening hadn't crossed your mind.

“I'd love to,” you replied with a smile. “I do have to help set up, but there's help there to handle things. It'd be nice to actually enjoy the event for a change.”

Joel's smile widened, a look of surprise and happiness mingling in his expression. It was clear that asking you was a step outside his comfort zone.

As the evening drew to a close, Joel carefully rolled up the renovation plans, he glanced at his watch and sighed. “I should get going. Sarah's probably wondering where I am,” he said, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

You nodded, a little reluctant for the evening to end too.

You walked him to the door, the warmth of the coffee shop wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. “Thank you, Joel, for tonight. For everything,” you said, genuinely touched by his efforts, “these plans and your ideas, they're more than I ever could have imagined.”

Joel paused at the door, turning to face you. “You're welcome, it's been fun getting back to doing a project like this, it's been a long time since the bakery reno.”

With a final smile and a promise to see each other at the Jingle Bell Movie Night, Joel stepped out into the crisp Maplewood night, leaving you full of anticipation and a sense of wonder at the unexpected turns life could take.

Your thoughts lingered as you locked the door behind him, but part of you remained guarded, reminding yourself of the reasons you were in Maplewood in the first place. You were here for your mother, for the legacy of True North Brews, not to settle down. 

Right?

The week leading up to the Jingle Bell Movie Night was a flurry of activity. Joel's daily visits became a cherished routine, each morning bringing a new discussion or a shared laugh over plans for the coffee shop. His drink was always ready by the time the bell jingled at 7:50 am, a small gesture that didn't go unnoticed by him.

The Jingle Bell Movie Night had transformed the community hall into a winter wonderland. Twinkling lights adorned the walls, and the air was filled with the scents of mulled wine courtesy of Frank and Bill, the sweet treats Marcus had baked and the hot drinks you had arranged from True North Brews. 

Slipping off your apron you turned to Ellie who was helping with the concessions, “Now please, I don't want to hear about any theatrics tomorrow,” Ellie opened her mouth to object and you cut her off before she could say any more, “nor do I want to hear that someone spiked Bill's drink with salt instead of sugar.”

Ellie rolled her eyes and you didn't miss the salt packets that slipped from her fingers into the pocket of her apron, “Jeeze, you just take the fun out of everything.”

“I also pay very well, so if you don't want your pay cheque docked, then I suggest you keep things above board.”

Ellie grinned as she gave a mock salute, “Ey, ey captain!”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, “Be good.”

Joel had sent you a message that he was at the back of the hall, so you grabbed two plastic cups of mulled wine and managed to pick up two of the oversized, and very decadent profiteroles Marcus had made especially. They were dusted with powdered sugar, and decorated with tiny edible gingerbread men. The scent of the gingerbread-flavoured cream filled your nose.  

Joel had found a cozy spot at the back, a perfect vantage point for both the movie and quiet conversation.

“No Sarah?” you remarked as you dropped into the seat next to him.

Joel laughed, “No, she ditched me as soon as we arrived.”

You handed Joel a plastic cup of wine and one of the profiteroles you'd picked up, “Here, I managed to snag one of these before they all disappeared.” 

Joel's eyes lit up at the sight of the dessert taking it gratefully from your hand. He took a bite and closed his eyes, savouring the rich flavours.

“Mmm, this is amazing,” he murmured, his voice laced with genuine pleasure.

Conversation between the two of you fell into the easy pattern that had grown between the two of you the past couple of weeks. Discussions moved from the plans for the coffee shop to your life growing up in Maplewood and what had taken you away. 

As the movie played on the big screen in front of you, the sound of laughter and conversation filled the hall, but it felt as if it were just the two of you in your own little world. 

When the conversation shifted to Joel, he spoke about his life in Maplewood, his contracting business, and the challenges and joys of raising Sarah. You couldn't help but notice the way his eyes sparkled under the dim lights, the way his lips curved into a smile when he shared a particularly funny story about his brother or Sarah.

However, he hesitated when it came to discussing his past in Austin. There was a tiny shadow of pain that crossed his eyes, but before you could question it, it was gone, replaced with one of Joel's trademark warm smiles. He'd mentioned briefly before what had brought him to Maplewood, Sarah's scholarship and he'd briefly mentioned the passing of his wife, but he never elaborated any further than that. And you respected his need for privacy, knowing that some wounds ran deep and were not easily shared.

“So, what do you think of the movie choice?” you asked, looking back to the projector screen playing 'The Santa Clause'

Joel laughed, “When Sarah was younger, this was on repeat from the moment Thanksgiving was over to when we packed the decorations away in January.”

You laughed before you finally took a bite of your profiterole, your taste buds were bombarded with the decadent flavours. The flaky pastry melted in your mouth, while the creamy gingerbread spiced filling added a cozy festive warmth to the whole sensation.

With closed eyes, you savoured another mouthful of the delicious dessert. A small dollop of cream escaped and landed on your chin, but you were too lost in the pleasure to care. “This is amazing,” you moaned in appreciation.

Joel's laughter mingled with the sound of the movie, and you opened your eyes to find him staring at you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. The air between you crackled with a newfound tension, and suddenly, the cozy winter wonderland around you seemed to fade into the background.

The air felt heavy with anticipation as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “You have a little something there,” he murmured.

Joel reached over and taking his thumb swept the fallen cream from your chin and you found yourself holding your breath as he took his thumb to his mouth. 

The sight sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like if his lips were on yours instead. The warmth from the mulled wine seemed to travel through your veins.

“Thanks,” you managed to say, still not able to look away from his lips.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you leaned in, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you. Before you could register it his lips were on yours, his hand finding home at the small of your back as you turned into the embrace, the feeling of the warmth of his body so close to yours, his 

The soft touch of his lips against yours sent shockwaves through your body. The taste of mulled wine and sweet cream lingered on his lips.

But as quickly as it happened, Joel pulled away, a look of confusion and guilt washing over his face. He stammered an apology, “Sorry, I shouldn't have…” Joel's voice trailed off, his eyes looking lost, confusion and guilt etched his face.

The two of you looked at one another, neither knowing what to say next. You were still reeling from the whiplash of the kiss followed by Joel's abruptness when he suddenly stood, patting his pockets until he found the one that had his car keys in them.

“I need to get going,” he said, looking everywhere but you leaving you confused and unable to figure out what was happening.

“Okay,” was all you managed to squeak out.

“I erm, sorry–” he rubbed at the back of his neck nervously, “I need to get Sarah home, she has a soccer game tomorrow morning.”

Joel hurriedly gathered his things, his eyes avoiding yours as he mumbled a quick goodbye. You watched him leave, the festive atmosphere of the movie night suddenly feeling bittersweet.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. You stuck around to help with the cleanup, half listening to Ellie in her complaint that for the third year in a row, the town council had rejected her suggestion of playing ‘Die Hard’, but your thoughts were elsewhere, replaying the kiss and Joel's sudden departure.

[toxicanonymity]

Aisle 39. Ben's Hardware

5250 words / Ben Solo x Rey

Warnings: I8+ mdni. Sexual tension, dubcon (via uninformed use of force connection but she wants it), dry humping. I 🖤 Dry Humping. Hardware Store AU but more than meets the eye.

A/N: posting my first fic in any fandom since I never posted it on Tumblr aside from the AO3 link and Tumblr is home now 🖤. I'm resisting the urge to improve it 😅 I'm not even gonna reread before posting. It was originally reader insert but @dark-scape translated to reylo. Lmk if you want the reader insert version instead and that can be arranged.

Rey visually undresses him.  He inhales through his strong nose, meets her gaze, and cocks an eyebrow: “Now that’s an idea."   He sinks all the way back into the cushions, his huge palms on his thighs, as if to take in the moment with a subtle, satisfied smile.  He then abruptly sits back up and starts unbuttoning his shirt.  As if on command.

Rey drives through the streets of Jakku. It's a chilly day, but bright for mid December. The sun is in her eyes, but the drive isn't long enough to commit to finding her sunglasses. As she turns into a parking lot, she sees the cafe next door is open and realizes it will be the perfect day to grab her favorite nutmeg butternut squash soup with their signature green tea bread if she can make it out of the hardware store before the lunch rush really picks up. This is a rare opportunity because the cafe's hours are aligned to typical office job hours when she’s normally across town.

Rumor has it the hardware store is locally-owned now, and she wonders how much it’s changed. She's taken a vacation day to finish some holiday shopping and errands, and thought of an easy home improvement project last night to spruce up Finn and Poe’s house while she housesits and takes care of their cat Bebe. She wants to fix the dimmer for the light above their kitchen table. The knob has been missing for awhile now, and even when you twist the naked peg, the lights don't dim, so she assumes the bulbs aren’t the right kind. She figures she can fix this with a new plastic knob, a 4-pack of dimmable LED lights, and five minutes of labor. She can finish it off with a little red bow on the new dial. This will be a nice surprise and will also give her an excuse to procrastinate her other errands.

Turns out, not much has changed. She clip-clops through the sliding doors in her warmest boots and still sees orange aprons with names hand-written in sharpie. She immediately locates the light bulbs and spends a few minutes longer than necessary deciding which pack to get. She looks at her phone and sees she has about ten minutes until the lunch rush, so it's time to find the other item she needs, the knob.

She looks up and sees a worker. He's wearing a dark gray jacket over his apron, and what looks like a lighter gray hoodie under it. It isn’t that cold in here, she thinks . She almost leaves him alone, but something on his apron catches her eye. She can't see the name, but barely sees the edge of an expertly doodled death star. Bold choice.  

He's got a nice head of dark hair, chin length, tapered around his face, but out of the way enough to see his eyes are brown. He runs his hand through his hair over the top of his crown as though slicking it back, then some of the strands fall back down. His face is a mix of heart and square shaped with a masculine jaw and strong nose. He has the stubble of a mustache and soul patch but no beard.

He has beauty marks, so many. How many? Are they just on his face or all over? He has an enviously clear complexion and looks like he tans easily. He's kind of tall, but not looming, maybe because his head is bowed slightly as he lifts a crate of lightbulb boxes and begins to unpack it. He seems athletic, hard to tell with what he's wearing. He has a youthful vibe but isn't exactly boyish.

He carries himself like he knows more or less what he's doing, but doesn't take the job too seriously. Rey imagines he wouldn't be the best candidate to tell her how to do a project, but he must know the aisles at least. She doesn't like to be a bother, but hopes it's an easy enough question, and he's standing right there. He can tell she’s about to ask him something and looks up. The whites of his eyes are clear and sparkly. Rey wonders if hers would be like that if she blinked more, which leads to her unintentionally fluttering her lashes.

She finally says, close to a whisper, “Can I ask you something?” I asked… if I can ask him something. She groans inwardly.

She isn’t prepared for the gentle baritone voice he responds with, "Yeah. Sure."

"Uh, where can I find the light switches and dimmers?"

"AISLE 39. I think. Here, I'll show you." He sounds about twice as old as he looks. Those few words he speaks are enough to flip a switch in Rey.  Her heart is melting at the same time her mind is racing. She can't tell for sure because he’s so bundled up, but she imagines he has strong arms and is in great shape based on the vascularity of his hands as he holds his barcode reader. He's working in the middle of the school day so he's got to be at least 18, not that he looks any younger, but Rey tends to think in worst case scenarios. Realistically, she would peg him for mid-twenties, but his voice sounds at least two decades older.

He walks her to aisle 39 and stops. She thanks him for his help, and as she turns to walk in the direction he pointed, she realizes she’s slightly blushing and she’s been silent. She doesn't want her shyness to come off as cold, so she makes eye contact and lets a little smile sprout from the left corner of her mouth across her lips, small but beaming. She hopes it doesn't come off as a smirk or make him self conscious. She can't tell whether he's the self conscious type.

She figures she can find the item herself from here, and doesn't think to ask him about the specific product. She wanders nearly all the way down the aisle, but after several minutes of searching (albeit distractedly), Rey is relieved to see him come back with another customer. He's helping a man find a specific thing, not a whole aisle. She’s jealous, even though it was her own fault not to ask. She hopes he sticks around and asks her if she found everything okay, but when he's done with the other customer it seems like he's about to leave.

She quickly approaches him. “Can I- can I ask for your help again?” Asking to ask again. Do I always sound this ridiculous? She tells him about the dimmer she’s looking for, which is apparently called a rotary switch.

To her surprise and delight, he talks far more than he needs to about rotary switches. His dark velvet voice is lulling Rey half into a fantasy while she struggles to continue listening to his words. He repeats almost every word she says back to him coolly and casually. And these aren't complicated concepts. She isn’t sure if he's practicing an active listening technique from sales training or is simply aware of his effect on women. Or his effect on her. She stands inches from him and looks into his eyes. She wonders to what extent her white cheeks have bloomed into roses under her freckles and given her away.

"You need a dimmer?" He looks her in the eyes, but she’s transfixed on every flex of his jaw and twitch of his lip as he talks.

"Yes, but just the knob, not the whole thing,” she says.

He nods thoughtfully then confirms, "So you just need the plastic part?"

“Right, there’s still a stick you can use to turn it, but it’s naked,” Rey confirms. She pulls her phone out of her back pocket to show him what kind of set-up the panel has and what part she needs.

"So on the panel there's an up-down switch, and a rotary dimmer."

“Yeah." She shows him the knob on the store's app and says, "I think the dimmer part is in stock.”

He replies "Oh, it says aisle 2?" He looks in that direction like he’s trying to remember what’s in aisle 2. He must be new.

"No, we’re in the right aisle. It's wrong on the preview page, but if you click into it you can see," she explains.

"Oh, ok. This is what you need though?" He locks eyes with Rey.

Just like that, she’s imagining him taking off his apron and hoodie at the end of the day, revealing meaty biceps that want to burst out of a black, soft washed t-shirt. Running his large hand through his hair. Flexing those beautiful arms as he peels off the shirt. A smooth torso with hard pecs, scant chest hair. At the thought of this, the left half of her bottom lip starts to creep under her left front teeth, and he cracks a smile for the first time, from the right side of his mouth, almost like a mirror image to Rey’s. His teeth are pretty but unassuming. They're close to white and not overly straight.

Her cheeks grow warmer and she looks away, responding to his question with a slight nod, which she hopes doesn’t read as hesitant, before resuming eye contact. “Yeah,” she quietly confirms.

"But you don't need the regular switch, right?" He speaks with a relaxed beat, not rushing the conversation to its end.

"Uh-huh."

He's speaking low and soft and looks back and forth between Rey’s eyes, not at the screen they’re both supposedly studying. "You just need the dimmer."

"Yeah." She feels like this is being drawn out to the point of overkill, but she’s not complaining.

"And you only need the plastic part." Every time he speaks is like music.

"Yeah," she confirms, barely audible, with a smile.

He continues to search her eyes and she repeats, "Yeah."

For a brief moment, he seems to gaze at Rey as lustily as she knows she is looking at him before he gathers his thoughts. She feels self conscious and suspects by the amount that he’s talking he must know the spellbinding effect his voice has on her. But if that's the case, she supposes there’s no harm that could come from him knowing it.

"Okay, let’s go over here," he says as he leads her back to where she started at the front of the aisle. "I think I see it.” He crouches down to get something from the bottom shelf.

"That’s it!" Rey says with a grin.

She feels bad for not crouching down with him. She’s always self conscious of making people do too much work, but then she also doesn’t want to make it awkward by taking over. So it's not that she expects him to serve her, she’s just frozen. He starts to pull the small product off the metal rods. It's the exact one she’d shown him on her phone, but she notices a better color next to it. Rey squats down and as she looks at the package to the right of the one he's holding, he almost looks disappointed that he didn't pick the exact unit she needed.

She says, "This one is even better, it'll match the old yellowed white." As she slides the package toward her, her right thumb almost imperceptibly brushes his left hand which is still holding the other package. She hasn’t even thought about his package yet, but the lightest brush of his skin is enough to short Rey’s circuits. She gets nervous and stands up, thanks him twice with a genuine smile and that's all she can do.

"No problem," he says, and that's all. As Rey watches him walk away, she feels an odd desperation to hear his voice again. She thinks about making up another question and recording him with an app. Is that creepy? It’s a little creepy, but not full-blown creepy, right? It isn't an option to never hear his voice again. She briefly glances around and he's nowhere in sight. She gets a hold of herself and makes her way to the self checkout line and pays.

Scanning the parking lot as she leaves, Rey wonders which car is his. When she gets to her car, she realizes she doesn’t have her keys. She sheepishly walks back inside and grabs her keys and receipt from the self-checkout terminal she just used. She looks at the receipt - “Ben’s Hardware”. So it did change ownership. She feels someone watching her from the aisle straight ahead, but tries to play it cool. She smiles and shakes her head in disbelief as she turns around and leaves, heart pounding.

Rey forgets all about the soup she was going to get and drives on autopilot to the house to install the dimmer and bulbs. What was that back there? When did I become so shy? It’s been a long time since she’s felt a visceral longing for someone, too. She can feel the animal inside of her awakening from a years-long slumber. She isn’t worried about it, she welcomes it. It’s tame. She has the maturity and experience to stay in control.

She pulls into the broken driveway and parks under the carport. Bebe runs to greet her and Rey bends down to pet her when she opens the car door. This should be an easy but impactful little project. She enters the kitchen, and takes the rotary dial out, dismissing a ridiculous passing thought that she should have bought the white one, too, because he touched it.  She tears the packaging open and holds the off-white plastic rotary dial in her hand, smiling as she remembers all the ways he described it.  

She raises the cream plastic dial to the light switch panel and glances at its underside, confirming it’s compatible.  The unsheathed rotary peg juts out from the panel in anticipation. She holds the dial by its outer edge, aligning its hole with the peg, and gently eases the peg inside.  The dial slides all the way on and snaps into place. It sticks out a little far from the wall, but it works.  Then she unscrews the light bulbs in the cheap chandelier one by one and replaces them with the dimmable ones she bought. 

Finally, the moment of truth - she presses the rotary dial, which turns on the lights, but when she rotates the dimmer, it dims nothing. The dimmer wiring itself might not be LED compatible. Of course. It looks like she’ll have to go back to the store, but not today. She does her shopping and begrudgingly runs errands, and finishes off her day with a warm cup of rooibos.

When she gets in bed, her mind drifts back to Him. She’s dying to hear his voice again. He was so calm, aloof, but somehow radiating power. She interprets it as sexual energy, but she wonders if she’s just seeing what she wants to see. To keep his voice in her mind, she imagines him narrating, “So. This is your bed… we’re going to use an extra blanket tonight, because it’s cold.” She feels ridiculous. But when she drifts off to sleep, there he is.

*** 

Rey is in a living room, but not hers.  It’s a subtle mid-century style with huge windows and modern touches.  It’s dimly lit with a fire roaring behind a glass.  He’s slouched on a stool at a wet bar, drinking something on the rocks.  He’s wearing black slacks, a form-fitting charcoal button-up shirt, untucked, with the cuffs unbuttoned.  He has one foot on a rung of the stool and another with its heel on the ground as he looks at his glass. 

He looks at Rey and puts down the glass.  “Drink?” he asks, standing up to go around the other side of the bar.  Rey watches him.  “Whisky? Wine? Water?” he asks, while filling a glass of water.   “I’m fine,” she replies.  He puts the glass of water down on the smooth granite in front of a second stool that’s still tucked under the bar.  As he walks out from behind the bar, he lets his fingers graze the leather seat of the closest stool.  Rey notices he’s shoeless, wearing black and gray argyle socks.  Why is he so quiet? 

Right on cue, he says, “Well, you’re here.  What do you want to do?” It’s so vivid.  Rey is frozen and says nothing.  Her heartbeat quickens.  He paces patiently.  There’s a teal sectional facing the fireplace.  The living room has soft carpet that feels new under her bare feet.  He walks across the living room, crossing into It a breakfast nook with an oak table.  Behind the kitchen table, he reaches for the wall and lightly touches a conspicuously cheap looking dial that dims the room further.   He comes back toward Rey, and pauses between the breakfast nook and living room. There’s a cabinet separating the spaces, about the same height as the kitchen table.  It has a record player and a box of records sitting on top of it.  

He approaches the record cabinet, which is about hip height to him.  He’s facing Rey, with the cabinet and the entire living room in between them.  With a casual stretch of one leg, he spreads his feet to lower himself a little and look at the records. He rolls up his sleeves, glancing up at her with his tan forearms flexing.  He thumbs through the vinyl records, which appear to have no words on the covers.  He has his head down, his hair has fallen slightly in his face, and he’s glancing up at Rey every few seconds as he thumbs through the box. 

He starts reading out the names of records, and her butterflies intensify at the low rumble of his voice. “Led Zeppelin III,” “Some Girls,” “Get Behind Me Satan,” “Ocean’s 11,” “Travis” “John Wick 2”  The foliage outside rustles gently against the window.  The next time he looks up at her, he doesn't look back down.  It’s an expectant gaze as though to see if the sound of his voice was effective.  She squirms a little and blushes.  He holds her gaze, squints slightly, and smiles a little.  He’s finished going through the records.  He doesn’t put anything on the record player, but a song she likes starts playing anyway.  Think, by Kaleida.  

He gives Rey a mischievous, inquisitive look, and runs his hand through his hair as he walks over to the sectional. He takes a seat and hinges forward at the hip, putting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together.  She admires the shape of his forearms.  He raises his clasped hands upright and sets his chin on them playfully, his biceps straining his sleeves as he meets her eyes.  He says, “Well, here we are at my place,” which she doubts.  Rey doesn’t know what she expects his place is like in reality, but it isn’t this refined.  He chuckles, removing his elbows from his knees and resuming a more grown-up posture. With arched brows and an otherwise straight face, he says, “Really.” His brows relax again.  “What do you feel like doing?”  His voice floods every inch of her body with a yearning to be touched.  

She doesn’t know how to answer him.  She doesn’t know how she got there or what’s going on, but the combination of his voice, eye contact, and arms are enough for Rey to begin visually undressing him.  He inhales through his strong nose, meets her gaze, and cocks an eyebrow: “Now that’s an idea."   He sinks all the way back into the cushions, his palms on his thighs, as if to take in the moment with a subtle, satisfied smile.  He then abruptly sits back up and starts unbuttoning his shirt.  As if on command. . . Holy shit, Rey thinks.  She realizes this is a dream. She’s lucid.  It’s like a 5-d game where she can feel everything.    In theory, she can do whatever she wants.  What she really wants at this moment is to straddle him.   

He glances down between his legs and coolly says, “sit anywhere you want.”  She feels observed, even though he isn’t real.  She walks over to the sectional and perches next to him on the edge of its velvet cushion. She feel herself getting wet.  She’s wearing a gray stretch miniskirt–something she wouldn’t have picked out for herself–black leggings, and a green cardigan with no undershirt.  He finishes unbuttoning his shirt and discards it on the floor.  She sees exactly what she’d pictured earlier - a strong physique, his lightly bronzed arms straining against a soft washed t-shirt.  “What’s your name,” he asks, and she feel a warmth growing between her legs.     She tells him, “Rey.”  “Rey,” he repeats, and she fruitlessly responds, “What’s yours?” 

He sighs and gazes around wistfully, “Her name is Rey.”  Then his eyes are back on her.  He places a large hand softly on her knee.  Electrified, she reciprocates.   It’s not real, she reminds herself.  She can do anything.  The guy from the store will never know.  She dares to run her hand a few inches up his quad and give his muscle a light squeeze.  He exhales with the slightest little groan,  “yeah,” and moves his hand to the small of back to urge her closer.  She’s sitting next to him but facing him now, left leg folded under her, working her right hand up his quad. 

The expanse of his thigh dwarfs her pale fingers on his black pants as she leans forward and lets her heel nestle between her legs to relieve some tension.  A tsunami of tingling deep inside her spreads through her breasts.  She grips his thigh for support, and lifts herself just barely,  intending to bring the inner crook of one knee up over his closest leg in a cuddly way while remaining seated on the couch.  A tent in his pants catches her eye and her skin starts to burn with urgency.  If she moves too quickly, she wonders if she could startle herself awake.  

As Rey raises her leg, he brings his far hand to it, gently coaxing her to move all the way onto his lap.  Her skirt rides up over her ass as she follows his lead.  He seizes one buttock in each hand, gives them a gentle squeeze, and takes a deep breath.  She is overcome with arousal and takes her own deep breath, shuddering and blinking slowly as she exhales. Her legs are now spread wide open straddling his lap, but she’s hovering and hasn’t put her weight on him yet.  Her head is a little higher than his in this position.  He bows his head and nuzzles his nose into her cardigan between her breasts, closing his eyes and taking in her scent.  

Rey’s modest chest is heaving against his face and he cradles her with both arms as she breathes.  She places her hands gently on his shoulders, and slowly moves them inward to fondle the hair at the nape of his neck.  She twirls a lock around her finger contemplatively, but she’s still hovering.  His arms are under hers with his face still in her sweater.  He drags his nose up to her neck and she feels her cardigan unbutton, exposing a lace bra, which is fastened in the front.  He looks up at her and reiterates in an intimate whisper, “you can sit anywhere you want.”  

Rey could tell from his breathing what would await her in his lap.  Her leggings were already soaked.  One by one, she scooted her knees closer to the back of the couch on either side of his expansive torso and let her weight down.  She is now truly straddling him, her inner thighs and the intimate seam of her warm, moist leggings fully embracing his arousal.  Her wetness spread through her leggings and into his pants.  His lumber swells against her, pulsing into her aching nub.  “Yeah,” he breathes.  “Right here.” She leans forward to feel his full length, which spans from her privates to her belly button as he thrusts against her. 

Over the course of a few blissful seconds, she feels his erection press harder against her, slide upward, then come back down, and repeat.  His mouth finds her neck, then her mouth.  She accept his lips hungrily and grinds back in rhythm.  Her lips pull away as pleasure shoots through her gut and breasts.  She leans her head back and gasps.  He moves his way back down to her heart, nuzzling his nose along her neck then planting a kiss on her collar bone, another kiss on her breast.   

Then his teeth lightly pinch her skin as they find the front of her bra.  He looks up at her as the clasp flies open and her breasts are free.  Her hard nipples are framed loosely by her dangling bra and the top half of her cardigan which is still buttoned, only at the bottom.  She’s still wearing leggings, but his cock feels too good to leave it for even one moment to undress further.  She continues to slowly grind against him as he moves one hand to her breast, keeping the other behind her for support.  He palms one breast, lightly at first, grazing her nipple with the heel of his palm, then softly cups the whole breast, enveloping it in his large hand as he continues to slowly thrust into her warmth  He uses his free hand to bring her close enough to kiss her other breast. 

Rey is burning up now.  He undoes the last two buttons of her cardigan and she lets it fall off her shoulders, discarding her bra at the same time.  She reaches down to the hem of his shirt and slides four curled fingers underneath it.  He helps her take it off, and she takes in the sight of his shredded torso.  His right pec has a scar.  She traces it with her thumb.  His pecs are so hard.  As she explores him, they continue grinding, then he gives a more emphatic thrust, like his cock cannot physically get close enough to her.  She reaches between their loins and strokes his arousal through his pants, tracing the outline of his cock in detail.  His pants are damp and shiny from her leggings and with a wetter spot of his own.  

Rey needs him badly.  He isn’t wearing a belt.  She frantically searches for his button and zipper and carefully frees him. She holds, and beholds, the glorious, veiny shaft that lands in her hand.  She savors the feeling of its soft skin as it throbs in her hand.  “You. . . are a vision,” he murmurs into her chest, which is exactly what she was thinking about his package.  She moves her thumb to the head of his cock, collects a bead of precum, and swirls around the head affectionately.  Her brows furrow with want.   He holds her tighter, closing the gap between them.  He begins thrusting again, hard and slow.  Rey grinds her throbbing warmth against his lower shaft while her hand is still in between them.  

She feels the spine of her groin twitching and knows she’s close.  She takes a deep breath and lets a sharper pleasure overtake her chest and groin.  Her breath quickens as she nears her peak.  She still has her leggings on. He reaches his broad hands into the back of her leggings, taking one buttcheek in each hand and moves her up and down against him.  “I need you,” he breathes. They look into each other’s eyes and there’s something wild in his pupils, something dark, like a warm, black hole, drawing her in.  “Take me,” she says.  He reaches a hand behind her neck to cradle her head, and they gaze at each other, breathing, grinding.  Then he pulls her face decisively to his.  

Rey inhales through her nose as their lips meet hungrily. He kisses her hard, too messily to  seal their mouths together, leaving his lower lip between her lips as he draws in a deep breath through his mouth.   He then closes his lips on her upper lip, his teeth and tongue slightly grazing it.  Half his mouth opens into hers, the other halves of their mouths still breathing heavily. 

He shifts her slightly upward, wraps her around his waist, and she feels the head of his rock hard cock aggressively nuzzling her clit, up and down.  His tongue finds hers and she lets it brush against her teeth.  When she pulls away for a moment, he looks her in the eyes. They’re both moving faster now, and  as they’re about to come, she folds herself into him, sliding her lips down his chin to his neck and opening her mouth, breathing against his skin. 

His thumb finds her most sensitive place and one touch sends her over the edge.  The pleasure is almost too much to bear.  Her ass clenches as ecstacy blooms from her groin, her nipples, her ears, and deep within her gut.  Muscles she didn’t even know she had shudder in release, and he wraps his arms tight around her, thrusting to the beat of her orgasm.  She rides wave after wave, pulsating against his cock, and as another wave swells he groans, and she feels his cock begin its own contractions, intensifying hers.  

Rey’s mouth is open against his neck and she’s breathing into his skin and as he unleashes a huge lode of cum, between them, soaking through her leggings, and gluing their clothes together.  Her canines dig harmlessly into the side of his neck – she can’t resist –  then she brings her lips to the flesh and seals it with a kiss.   She collapses into him, loosely hugging him with her legs, and the two of them just breathe.  Then he tightens his arms around her in a hug, and she looks up. She sees the mark of her teeth on his neck, and remembers no one else will see it.  This isn’t real.  

She nuzzles her head into her mark and blinks her eyelashes against his skin.   He sighs slowly through his nose, then she feel the vibrations of his voice against her face as he says, “You are… remarkable.”  She lies there breathing for a few minutes and he wraps them both in a cream, cable-knit throw.  She falls asleep in his arms and wakes up in her own bed, marveling at how a dream can make one feel like they’ve experienced someone so intimately.  She hadn’t had a lucid dream in years.  She absently scratches an itch between her breasts and wonders how she can be sure to dream of him again tonight.  Was it the rooibos, or the sheer will of her want?

[jsprnt]

Healing Hearts PT. 18 | Virgil van Dijk

Would a fresh start bring you more than just a new job?

A/N: I’m back! Still a little sick but we push through. Life’s been hectic lately with uni applications and exams. Even so we’re almost reaching the end of the story. 😭 please don’t forget to leave a note <3

WC: 3.405

Summary: Y/N L/N is a very skilled and praised physiotherapist. A certain event pushing her for a fresh start, as a physiotherapist for Liverpool FC. One question always being in the back of her mind: Will she be able to let go of her past and allow herself to experience new things?

"I'm sorry mom, it hasn't been that long even. So I wanted to keep it private, but you know how it unfolded."

I hear her sigh, accompanied by the sound of the TV in the background.

"y/n, we are your parents. Couldn't you have said a single thing?"

"I wanted to but the way you've been adamant on me getting back with that piece of shit. I didn't think you'd even be happy with it." I try to reason, nervously chewing on my bottom lip.

"No, we would be happy."

"What do you mean? You've been talking my ear off about him when you call, even in my dreams! You show up and scold me about it, in my dreams mom."

"Look I said all of that, and I realize maybe I shouldn't have. Just thought that would be the best for everyone!"

"Everyone mom? Really? You don't even know some of the things that happened in between us!"

I hear her sigh again, hearing footsteps, assuming she's walking around the house.

"I'm just disappointed to hear that my daughter is dating someone from my friends, and not my own daughter."

"If I told you last time I was home. You and dad would be fine with it?"

"Yes.”

"You're being serious?" I ask, confused by her change of opinion.

"Obviously, your dad has been bragging about you since he heard it."

I raise my brow in curiosity, sitting up from the sofa.

"What do you mean?"

"He's been getting calls left and right. His friends asking about you and your- boyfriend."

"Oh- what is he saying?"

"He cuts them off when they ask about your boyfriend. Ignores the questions and changes the topic to how good of a physiotherapist you are."

“Mom, you don’t have to pretend-”

"Of course not! He hasn't stopped talking about you."

This gives me a great feeling of relief, like huge weight was lifted off my chest.

"So, what I'm getting is. You both aren't mad about me dating someone else? Just mad I didn't tell you?"

I hear her hum, and a smile forms on my face.

"You won't bring up my ex or anything?"

"That's in the past now."

"Promise? You won’t mix him with any of our business anymore?”

"You have my word on this. I promise."

"Grandma! Are you in the back!" Virgil shouts as we enter the familiar restaurant, shoving the spare key into his pocket. The place silent apart from the ticking clock on the wall.

"She must be, let's go and look." I say, dragging Virgil further inside the place.

"Grandma?" I call out, opening the door to the kitchen.

"You're here just in time. Take one!" She exclaims, walking towards us with a platter of sugar cookies.

"These smell amazing. Just a second, let us wash our hands." I reply, walking over to the sink, smelling the sweetness of the cookies.

"Come on now hurry." She urges, finally handing one to Virgil and me.

We thank her, popping the buttery goodness into our mouths.

"I need the recipe, please.” I mumble, covering my full mouth with my hand.

I hear chuckle as she goes to put the platter down, turning towards me.

"I will teach you of course." She smiles, taking her apron off.

"When is the delivery coming? Eleven again?" Virgil chimes in, taking off his jacket.

"Yes, let's have some coffee together until then."

I go to take off my own jacket, hanging it up on the coat rack before returning.

"I'll make the coffee!" I announce, fixing my sweater.

I walk up to the coffee machine, grabbing the bag of roasted coffee beans from the cabinet and filling up the machine with it.

"Grandma what do you want to drink?"

"A cappuccino for me."

I hum, grabbing a mug from the cabinet and filling the milk compartment with fresh milk. Clicking the right button, I watch the foamy milk mix with the black coffee.

I suddenly feel strong arms wrap around me from behind, looking back to see Virgil. His chin resting on my shoulder.

"What do you want to drink?" I ask, returning to grab another mug.

"Cappuccino for me as well." He says, and I go to push the button. Hearing the machine start grinding the beans as I adjust the strength of the coffee aroma.

I turn in his hold, looking at him as I lean against the counter. His hand coming up to my cheek.

"What?" I ask, seeing his eyes roam over my face. His thumb rubbing on my cheekbone.

"Just taking in your face before I have to leave you for a while."

"Oh come on. You'll be fine, you act like we won’t see each other for a month." I tease, laughing at him.

The coffee machine beeping brings my attention back to preparing the coffee, making me turn away.

"Here, I'll make mine now." I say, looking around to see grandma not in the kitchen anymore.

"Where did she go?" I ask, pressing the latte macchiato button.

"I'll go look." He says, leaving the kitchen.

I hear a grunt a couple of minutes later, watching Virgil walk into the kitchen with a huge bag of flour in his arms.

"Delivery is here already?"

"Yeah, came a little early this time."

"Well should I help you?" I say, stepping towards the door as I watch him leave.

"No, it's fine just have coffee with grandma until I'm done."

"Are you sure?" I press on, following him.

He turns around, hands on my back as he leans in to peck my forehead. Lips touching my skin with upmost tenderness.

"I'm sure, go ahead." He murmurs.

I nod, watching him walk away as I return to kitchen. Placing all three cups of coffee on the tray, grabbing a generous plate of cookies as I walk into the dinner area.

"I've prepared the coffee!" I beam, placing the tray in front of grandma. I watch her smile, pearly dentures showing as she thanks me.

I hear her chuckle, before she looks around.

"Where did Virgil go?”

"Oh he's still bringing in the flour, he'll be here in a minute." 

I take a sip of the warm coffee, it's warming me up since the weather was getting colder and colder in Liverpool.

"How have you two been? No trouble in paradise?”

"We've been amazing. Just both focused on working hard."

"That's good, but you should enjoy your youth. That's what my late husband and I did as well."

"Well will of course. It's just that Virgil is leaving for his international duty in a couple days."

"Right I've heard about that on TV. Are you going with him?" She asks, taking a sip of her cappuccino.

"Not this time, you know we have some injuries. Need to focus on my job and support him from here this time.” I smile.

"Right establishing a career is very important for a young woman like you."

"That's right- oh there he is." I smile, seeing Virgil finally walk in, sitting down as I put his mug in front of him.

"Thank you. What are you two gossiping about? Me?" He asks, smug smile on his lips as he takes a sip of his coffee, his left hand coming to rest on mine.

"You wish." grandma jokes, and I laugh watching Virgil's face twist in confusion.

"Right, you wish." I tease, laughing again.

"Nice first half guys!" She exclaims, high-fiving the tired players as they pile into the changing room at half time.

It was the last match before international break, this one being against Brentford. The first half being full of controversial decisions made by the referee and multiple checks for VAR. Liverpool still had the upper hand, with one goal a little before half time scored by Mo.

As Darwin walks past, she makes sure to pat his back, a smile in motivation thrown his way. The Uruguayan had already scored two amazing goals, though unfortunately both were annulled after VAR checks. He did have an assist underneath his belt, which hopefully cheered his mood up a bit.

She makes eye contact with Virgil as he throws her on of his cheeky winks, a smile forming on her lips as she follows the guys inside the changing room. Making sure to check on Diogo first since he'd gotten knocked down pretty badly.

They already had some injuries on the squad, with international break coming up they needed to be extra cautious. After full confirmation of no injuries, she leaves the changing room a couple minutes before halftime ends.

She goes to grab a cup of coffee, before heading back into the medical room. Watching the second half of the game with much anticipation. The next few 45 minutes going by fast as Liverpool wins with a 3-0. Confirming her belief that this season could definitely be Liverpool's if all matches went this well.

y/n immediately zips her jacket up, grabbing the empty disposable cup as she throws into the recycling bin. Making her way towards the pitch as she hears the full time whistle.

Stepping onto the grass, she turns giving her coworkers a high five in celebration. Then making her way towards the bench to congratulate and compliment the players.

She watches the players hug each other, Klopp walking away to celebrate the win as a smile forms on her face. Happy the last game ended on a positive note.

She observes the celebration for a second, ready to walk back inside, but a phone is abruptly shoved in her face as she moves to the side.

It shocks her into freezing up, eyes widening in before registering the string of questions coming out of the man's mouth, back-to-back.

"Are you really dating Van Dijk?"

"On your second gold digging mission aren't ya?"

"Women like you are the problem!"

The last sentence he says brings her back to reality. Wondering where the hell security even was, or why no else had noticed this maniac yelling at her and recording her yet.

She looks back at the man again, as he keeps repeating 'fucking gold digger'.

The words hit a nerve, making her blood boil. A feeling of defensiveness brews in her, folding her arms as she looks at the man skeptically.

"Why do you give a fuck?" She questions, fear of threat thrown away as she’s getting pissed off.

"What?" The man replies, flustered as he raises his brows.

"Why do you care? I mean, don't think there's anything to dig here." She repeats, motioning to him, ducking when he suddenly tries to grab her.

She presses her lips together, having difficulty biting back a laugh at the comical anger on the man's face. Stepping back as she finally sees security grabbing the feral man, watching him get escorted off the pitch with struggle.

A hand coming up to her shoulder, makes her head turn in curiosity. “You okay?" She hears Dr. Woods say, his hand comforting as she nods.

"I'm fine, just your usual pitch invader." She shakes it off.

Because a normal one goes up to staff instead of the field full of world-famous players.

"Then let's go inside." He suggests, and she agrees in an instant. The both of them walking inside through the tunnel.

She goes to grab her belongings immediately, saying goodbye to the players who would be leaving for international duty. Warmly hugging some of them, eyes catching her boyfriend still doing interviews as she makes her way into the garage.

She throws her stuff into the backseat haphazardly as she steps into her car, grabbing onto the wheel as she rests her forehead onto it, sighing. The initial shock, anger and humor she found in the situation wearing off.

Sitting up straight she tries to remove it from her memories, tapping her fingers onto the steering wheel as she waits for her boyfriend. Spotting him walk through the doors minutes later.

"You look tired. Not happy we won?" He teases, shutting the door. Leaning in to press a kiss against her forehead.

"Of course I'm happy." She mumbles, putting her seatbelt on. Glancing at him for a moment, noticing the curious look in his eyes, but choosing to ignore it.

She shifts a little, waving at the staff outside for a second, then starting the car. Driving out of the parking garage.

"You okay?" He asks, noticing her silence and the fact that she hadn't turned on a song like usual.

"I'm fine, something silly just happened. That's all." She breathes out, focusing on driving.

He doesn't believe she's totally fine, deciding to ask about it later and not when she's driving.

"You packed everything right?" She asks, watching her lover sit on the floor next to his suitcases.

"Yeah, I'm just trying to figure out how to style these jeans." He replies, holding them up.

She hums, walking away for a minute, grabbing some items out of his closet before throwing them onto the bed.

"These would work. What do you think?" She asks, grabbing the jeans and placing them next to different sweaters.

He gets up, going to stand next to her as he ponders over the options.

"These are all nice." He adds, hand on his chin.

"I think this sweater and T-shirt combo is the best. Especially for the weather." She says, looking at him. "-and with those new LV sneakers you just got!"

He smiles at her, wrapping his arms around her back, pulling her in closely.

"That's perfect." He mumbles, leaving kisses on the side of her head.

"Being all lovey dovey suddenly?"

"Going to miss you."

She doesn't reply, pressing her face into his chest, soft sigh leaving her lips. He only pulls her closer, hand resting on the small of her back.

"We have to finish packing soon. It's getting late." She mutters pulling away and glancing at the clock.

"Just let me hold you for a moment." He whispers, pulling her back in. Wrapping his strong arms around her tightly.

The couple is wrapped in between the gray sheets of the bed, the autumn sun casting minimal sunlight into the room. Bodies entangled, still basking in the silence of the morning. Before a universally hated alarm sound blasts through the room, making the couple groan in annoyance.

"Babe, turn it off." She complains, snuggling further into the sheets. Clutching the thick blanket closer as she hides her head underneath her pillow.

Not getting a response by the athlete, she nudges him with her knee, enough to not hurt, and harsh enough to wake him up. The annoying alarm still all but stopped.

"What?" He questions, voice raspy as he opens his eyes.

"Alarm." She mutters, face squished into the mattress. Feeling him shift, as the sound finally gets cut off.

"Come here." He mumbles, grabbing her naked shoulder and pulling her into his bare chest. A soft smile on his face as he strokes patterns on her back.

"What time is it?" She asks, wrapping her own arms around him lazily.

"Little past eight." He replies, leaving kisses on her shoulder.

"Let's just sleep more, I'm tired."

He chuckles deeply, smug smile on his face.

"Bet you are."

He receives a light punch to his hard stomach, fake groan leaving his lips as he watches her amused through his squinted eyes.

"Quiet please." She mumbles, laying her head back on his chest.

"Alright I'm sorry." He hums, running his hand down her back again, resting it on the small of her back.

"Let me ask you something first." He whispers, watching her raise her head.

"I've heard what happened yesterday. Why didn't you tell me everything?"

"What do you mean?"

"About the guys who harassed you on the pitch. Security reached out to me yesterday."

"It's nothing."

"No, how you feel is important to me. Did he hurt you?" He asks, holding her chin up.

"He tried to insult me, then he went on this rant about all women being gold diggers or whatever."

She notices his jaw clench, his hold on her chin leaving as he strokes her cheek.

"I'm sorry for not being there."

"It fine, we're even since I insulted him back. There's probably a funny video of it floating around the internet, he was recording until security took him." She chuckles, imagining how dumb the video would look.

"He was recording that?" He asks, removing a fallen eyelash from her cheek.

"Yeah, with his phone."

"I'll make sure it gets deleted." He promises, leaning in to kiss her. Pressing his plump lips against hers.

"No, more speaking. Just let me sleep now hm?" She urges, pulling the blanket up. Wanting to stop talking about the incident.

"Anything you want my love."

She brings in the groceries, two heavy bags on each hand as tries to unlock the front door of her boyfriend home. He'd insisted she'd stay at his place while he was gone, since his place was safer and had better security.

Washing her hands and taking of her coat, she takes the TV remote. Shuffling her playlist, landing on ‘Sidewalks’ by The Weeknd and Kendrick Lamar. Going back into the kitchen to organize the groceries.

The vibrations of her phone stops her from moving, smile forming on her lips as she hears Siri announce the caller ID. Going the dry her hands quickly before picking up.

"Can you see me?" She asks, leaning in after resting her phone against the empty fruit basket.

"I can. How's my girl doing?" He asks, laying comfortably in his hotel room bed.

"Went grocery shopping." She replies, grabbing the remote to lower the volume of the music.

"Think I called at the perfect moment." He teases, voice deep as he looks at her through the screen.

"Yeah, if you think putting groceries away is sexy." She laughs, leaning her body against the counter.

"If it's you thats difficult to deny."

"Enough trying to virtually get in my pants. Where are you? Gibraltar?" She asks, putting a bottle of juice into the fridge. Starting to organize the vegetables and fruits into containers.

"No, Portugal. Stadium in Gibraltar is getting fixed."

"Really? Are you done training? Back in your hotel room?" She asks, popping a washed grape into her mouth.

"Yeah, captains have their own hotel room remember?" He replies, sensual undertone peeking through his already amorous tone.

"Oh really? Didn’t know that-" she begins, confusion on her face as she hears the doorbell ring.

“Who’s that?” She asks, suddenly on high alert. No one had visited since Virgil had left, unless it was a package she was aware of.

The break-in had only affected her in one way, and that was being home alone. It wasn’t to the point of paranoia, security cameras definitely helping a lot. But a little sound here and there definitely had her on high alert at times.

Noticing the sternness in her expression he calls out to her, taking her attention away from the door.

“It’s fine, just something I ordered. Go check it out.” He reassures, calming her down.

She grabs the phone, holding it in her hand as she opens the front door. A delivery man standing there with a bouquet- or more like box of roses.

“y/n l/n?” He says, extending the bouquet.

“That’s me, thank you.” She replies, grabbing the flowers, shutting the door when he leaves.

She walks to the sofa propping the phone up as she looks at him while taking the card from in between the flowers.

“I miss you so much. Enjoy these flowers. I’ll be back soon, baby.”

- V

Looking up at her phone, seeing her boyfriend smile makes her smile as well. Heart tingling from kindness of the gesture.

“This is so sweet..” she exclaims, looking back at the arrangement of roses, baby’s breaths mixed in between.

She hears him chuckle from over the phone.

“I’m glad you like it love. I missed you.” He replies, watching her expression intensely.

Grabbing the phone off the the coffee table she lays down on the sofa, looking at him.

“Then you better win tomorrow’s match. I want to see you as fast as possible.”

[catharsisxf]

A Little Something Sweet

Rating: T

Prompt: Homemade goodies

AO3 link

___________________

Knocking on Scully's apartment door he wasn't quite sure what to expect but it certainly wasn't the sight of her greeting him wearing a flour covered apron.

"Hey!" she beamed at him and he couldn't help grinning right back at her. They'd been spending more and more of their off hours together the past few weeks (including some pretty hot make out sessions) but this was the first time she'd specifically asked if he'd come over to help her with something.

He shucked his leather jacket and draped it on the couch then followed her into the kitchen. She had several piping bags filled with different shades of icing, a variety of sprinkles, and a few bags of cookie cutters set on the table. A mini Christmas tree twinkled festively in the corner while a small radio on the counter was playing a mix of holiday songs. Taking in the whole scene he instantly felt all warm and fuzzy inside.

"What's all this?" he asked as she dusted one end of the table with flour and grabbed a rolling pin.

"I'm baking sugar cookies for my mom's church bake sale tomorrow and thought you'd like to give me a hand." She opened the fridge, pulled out ball of dough and laid it on the floured surface.

She gestured to the cookie cutters. "Pick out a few."

As he dug through the bags he saw the expected snowflakes, trees, gingerbread men, candy canes...he barked out a laugh, "Scully, what in the world?!" He held up a bag of cookie cutters shaped like alien heads and UFOs of various sizes.

She smirked at him while continuing to roll out the dough. "What?"

"Do you really think this is what they're looking for at the bake sale? Where did you even get these?"

"I saw them at a little shop in Adams Morgan. I thought they were cute."

Shaking his head and smiling he selected a snowman and an alien head as she motioned him over to the newly flattened dough. He started working on cutting out the shapes while she grabbed another portion of dough from the fridge.

Grinning at her attempts to push back a couple stubborn strands of hair that didn't want to stay behind her ear, he couldn't help think of how natural this all felt. They had both been terrified that a shift in their relationship would ruin things between them or be awkward at best. But working along side her in her cozy kitchen, hearing her hum along with the radio, he felt his heart was ready to burst from the domestic bliss of it all.

Soon they had two full sheets of various shapes ready to go in the oven. He still wasn't convinced any of the church ladies were going to buy UFO-shaped holiday cookies but maybe he'd sneak a couple of those for himself.

Loading them into the oven Scully walked over to a timer sitting on the counter and twisted it. "So," she said facing him again.

"So," he echoed, moving to wrap his arms around her. Nuzzling her neck, he murmured, "Smells good."

"It's too soon to be smelling the cookies yet," she whispered.

"I wasn't talking about the cookies."

She smirked at him as she brought her arms around his neck, playing with the hairs at the back of his head.

He ran his hands slowly up and down her back. "How long do we have?"

"About 8 minutes."

He grinned and lowered his mouth to hers. His gentle kisses quickly deepened as she opened her mouth to him. Without breaking contact he reached behind her thighs and lifted her up to sit on counter. Her legs around his waist, she scooted closer to him and he started to feel lightheaded as she brushed against his crotch. Groaning, he plunged his tongue deeper and felt her nails dig into his skin.

He quickly undid the waist ties on her apron and pulled away from her just long enough to lift it up and over her head, tossing it somewhere behind him. She hummed contentedly as he pulled back the neckline of her sweater to place wet kisses where her neck met her shoulder. She had pulled his shirt out of his pants and was trailing her fingernails up and down his stomach. He inhaled sharply as she reached for his belt-

DING!

He grunted as she tried to pull away from him. "Mulder," she sighed. "I need to take them out before they burn."

"Those were the fastest 8 minutes I ever experienced. Are you sure we didn't lose time there, Scully?"

She rolled her eyes at him playfully as she jumped down from the counter.

"Sooo...now what?" he asked, as she placed the cookie sheets on a couple cooling racks, trying to ignore the tightness in his pants.

"Now we get to decorate them. Although..." she said, pausing to give him a significant look. "We do need to let them cool completely first and that could take a while."

A slow smile spread across his face. "Yeah?"

"In fact," she said as she picked up one of the piping bags. "I have way more icing than we'll need for the cookies."

His smile turned into a gape as he watched her back away towards her bedroom, piping bag in hand.

The cookies were definitely cool enough by the time they got back to them.

[gungoo4lifer]

The 30 Minutes Rule

Summary: Goo finds a way to avoid Gun's nasty ass utterly filthy disgusting smoky breath

The 30 minutes rule.

The 30 minutes rule is a rule where Gun can't make any psychial contact with Goo including cuddles, kisses and even standing next to him too close after smoking for the first 30 minutes.

And how all of this started?..

-------------

Entering their home, Gun lefts out a deep sigh in relief as he finally comes back to home from all the exhausting work, to his housewife... househusband, whatever. How odd. Usually, Goo would be right in front of him whenever he entered home, greeting him with hugs. If theres not a sight of a grinning blonde in front of him, waiting for hugs, then it must mean that Goo was in the kitchen.

''Gun?'' Goo shouts from the kitchen, his gaze on the cooking pot as he does so.

''Im home.''

''I can tell.''

Stripping his jacket that felt heavy and pulling away his tie, Gun makes his way to the kitchen to see what Goo cooked, the sight of Goo wearing the light pink apron while cooking appears in front of him, even someone as wicked as Goo can be.. adorable sometimes.

Walking towards the back of Goo, Gun wraps his arms around his beloved and shoves his head on his shoulder, nibbling onto Goo's neck. ''Welcome home dea- EEEEW you fucking stink get the fuck out of my kitchen you're going to cause the food smell like that disgusting cigarattes ugh!''

'Kiss. Give me kisses, im tired.''

''Kiss?! No way in hell when your breath fucking smells cigarettes.'' Goo clenches his teeth in both fury and annoyance, holding himself to not bash Gun's head into the cooking pot.

Gun rolls his eyes, planting a kiss on Goo's cheek, which Goo replies with a grimace on his face. ''Fucking damn it, you're gonna make me smell like that too!''

''Whatever.''

-------------------------

Not so long after, Goo finds himself sitting on the couch with Gun, with Gun's head resting on his chest as Goo scrolls down through his phone, from the way Gun looked, Goo could tell that he was going to fall asleep. No matter how strong he was, and how stable stamina he had, he could get tired too. After all, he was just a human being like the others.

''Go to sleep.''

'..I'm not sleepy.'' Gun mutters, his eyelids feeling heavy as he shuts down his eyes, already falling asleep.

''Idiot.''

Goo lefts out a small chuckle as he goes back to scrolling down on his phone, then seeing a video about a site. ''Huh?''

From what he's hearing, it seems like the site was about women who complains about their issues they suffered with their relationship goes there and asks for help, then receives answers from another women who had the same issue earlier and has experience, etc. ''Is there a men version of it?'' Goo thinks and searches, but nah.

Then suddenly, an idea pops in his mind.

And now he's an anonim, using that site. Why, you ask?

"Hello. I dont want to use my real name here right now, but i'm here to tell you girls that i suffer with my partner's smoking addiction. He always smokes and then he tries to hug and kiss me and it smells disgusting! Is there a way to avoid it? Anyone up to help? if so, please let me know.''

Damn. Even Goo is impressed, looking at his own speech, even he himself can't tell that it was himself who wrote that. ''Well, its the only way to get help isn't it?'' What can he say? Korea's a homophobic country, not many would be very impressed if they found out that they were in a relationship with Gun. Maybe its because of the fact that Gun is a damn yakuza, who knows.

After a few minutes, a notification comes up, from the same site. ''Hi, Mi-sun here! I have a solution for your problem, let me introduce you to, ''The 30 Minutes Rule.'' ''

Long story short, (because i ain't writing allat) The 30 minutes rule is a rule where your partner who smokes very often can't make any psychical contact with you for the first 30 minutes they smoke, and after 30 minutes, they can.

At first it sounds kinda complicated to Goo, but when he thinks of it.. This woman.. she's a genius.

''Thank you, Mi-sun. I'll try that! (≧ヮ≦) 💕''

-----------------------

Entering their home, Gun is greeted by the sight of Goo sitting on the couch, busy scrolling through his phone. The smell of the cigarattes fills the air as soon as Gun steps in, which immediately makes Goo pout.

Taking off his jacket and putting it on the edge of the couch, Gun sits next to Goo, a part of him curious why he's been so silent, even though he just entered home.

"Someone's silent today. Got something to say?'' Gun raises one of his eyebrows, then pauses, leaning in closer to Goo. ''But before, give me my ki-..''

"The 30 minutes rule.'' Goo grins, his palm contacting with Gun's lips. Gun backs away, slightly tilting his head in confusion. ''The 30 what?''

Pulling out his phone, Goo shows Gun the sentence that woman wrote, Gun reads all of it and then, bursts into laughter. ''This gotta be some kind of joke.''

''No it's fucking not!''

''Alright, that was hilarious. Now give me my ki-''

''Im serious.''

Silence.

Gun observes Goo's facial expression.. he seems utterly stern about this .. dumb rule. ''..No kisses then?''

''Or hugs.''

''For 30 minutes straight?''

''Mhm.''

''Urgh.'' Gun grumbles, standing up from the couch and pulling out his phone from his pocket, making his way to the shower. Goo can't see what he does on his phone, nor he cares, going back to playing games and giggling.

'Timer set to 30 minutes.'

-----------------

Watching the new episode of Jujutsu Kaisen on his phone, Goo gets interrupted when Gun comes out of nowhere and grabs his phone, which causes to Goo turn his face to him, an obvious frown on his face, wondering why the hell he did that. "What the fuck, man-"

Cupping both of Goo's cheeks roughly, Gun leans in for a kiss, interrupting Goo again with no guilt at all. The face expression he got from Goo was priceless, eyes wide, eyebrows fully raised at the sudden kiss, however, it doesn't takes long for him to accept the offer, extending his arms to wrap his arms around Gun's neck, pulling him closer to the kiss and kissing him utter passion to the point that both of them were breathless as the need of air increased every single second passed by, forcing them to pull away. Pulling away, a stray of saliva disconnects between their lips.

As soon as the kiss ends, Gun mutters, "The 30 minutes is over."

Raising his eyebrows, Goo pauses for a second, wondering what the fuck Gun was talking about, then it hitting his head after several seconds. "Ooohhhh," he laughs, a smug smirk replacing his surprised face. "Did you set a timer or what?"

"No."

----------

Walking up to his car, Gun lets out a sigh of relief to the thought of the exhausting work finally being over, and now getting to go to his home. To his home.

Inserting the key into his car's lock and opening the door, Gun's hand almost slides down on his pockets on their own, for a quick cigarette break.

He pauses.

He stares down at the cigarette package.

If he smoked now, how many minutes would it take for him to get home? 10? 15? Should he smoke and drive slow, so that 30 minutes could pa-... Oh, for fucks sake.. screw this.

Throwing the cigarette package on the seat, his grip on the steering wheel gets tighter as his teeth clenches in annoyance. Damn it, Goo..

------------

The sound of the door unlocking by a key reaches to Goo's ears, not even bothering to look up from his phone to see who it was, since he already knew well who it was.

"Not even a welcome?"

"Shh, keep quiet, watching something here." Goo shouts, his gaze still on the phone, Gun doesn't gets surprised at the sight of the video being an anime, judging from the Japanese talking reaching his ears.

Getting behind Goo's lying presence on the couch, Gun leans in closer to look at Goo. "Did you cook anything?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's on the kitc- … wait a minute.." Slowly putting down his phone and turning his gaze to Gun with narrowed eyes, Goo slightly tilts his head, trying to understand what was feeling off about Gun, then it hits his head.

"You- you don't-" To confirm his almost impossible thought, he grabs Gun's tie and pulls him closer to inhale his scent, then being correct about it. "You don't smell like cigarettes?!"

Gun lets out a slight chuckle at Goo's surprised reaction. "What?"

"Who are you and why are you in my house. Did you kidnap Gun or what?"

"You think I'm a guy who someone can kidnap easily?"

"Oh, that's right." Goo agrees, pausing for a second. "Are you a demon possessed Gun's body?!"

"I couldn't smoke because of an idiots ridiculous rule today. Can you believe it?" Gun raises one of his eyebrows, waiting for an answer from Goo.

"The 30 minutes rule?"

"Yeah, that."

Goo smirks, "So that's why you didn't smoke?"

Gun pauses. "Maybe."

A chuckle leaves Goo's lips, placing his hand on the back of Gun's head and pulling him closer, then planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

"..Seriously? On the cheek? I didn't smoke just for a kiss on the cheek?!"

Laughing, Goo pulls Gun closer and rewards him with a kiss on the lips for not smoking for just once.

[natedogx15]

Miraculous Descendent Chapter 61: The Heirloom Two, The Unraveling

Previous Chapter

In André Bourgeois' bakery, the man is working hard to prepare a special cake for one of his more famous clients. As he does, Chloe walks down the stairs and notices her father hard at work.

"Do you need any help, Dad?" She asks him as she prepares to grab an apron to help her father.

"There's no need, Princess. I have everything under control. You can enjoy yourself today. I hear there's a new Egyptian exhibit opening in the museum. Maybe you can go out for a bit and see that. I'm sure it'll have some interesting stuff to see." André tells his daughter while wiping a bit of sweat off his brow.

Chloe gives her father an unreadable expression as she thinks about his suggestion. However, she doesn't have much else to do.

"Alright. Let me know if you need anything while I'm out." Chloe tells him before leaving the bakery.

"Will do, Princess. Thank you for all your help." André thanks her with a smile as he watches her leave.

In the restaurant of Le Grand Paris, Alix and her father are sitting at one of the tables in celebration of Alix's birthday.

"Thanks for taking me out, Dad. But are you sure this is a good idea? A new exhibit is opening today. I know how important your job is to you." Alix says as she looks around the restaurant somewhat awkwardly.

"Yes. But today is also especially important for you and our family." Her father says before seeing his daughter's sneakers.

"Though. I wish you had dressed more appropriately for the occasion." He says, and Alix shrugs.

"I took my cap off, didn't I? Besides, two people from my class live here, and I helped around once." Alix casually says while pointing to her cap.

"I know, but it's a special day." Mr. Kubdel states, and Alix shrugs.

"It's just a birthday. It's nothing that special." Alix tells him with a raised eyebrow.

"You may change your mind when you see my gift." Mr. Kubdel states as he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the box he wrapped a little less than a week ago.

Alix raises an eyebrow at her father before taking the box. She stares at the panjas bracelet in shock when she opens it. She's not one for clothing or jewelry. But even she can tell this looks valuable.

"That's a family heirloom that's been passed down for generations. I thought now would be the best time for you to inherit it." Mr. Kubdel explains to his daughter with a smile.

"Uh. Thanks. Shouldn't Jalil have inherited this, though? I thought the oldest was supposed to get stuff like this." Alix tells him while examining the bracelet.

Hearing this question causes Mr. Kubdel to sigh.

"As much as I love him. I don't know if I can trust him to take care of such an important object to our family." Mr. Kubdel tells his daughter honestly, causing her to snicker slightly.

"Knowing him, he'd probably break it to test some crazy theory." Alix agrees with a smile as she puts the bracelet on.

"That's what I'm worried about, too. Which is why I'm entrusting you with this responsibility." Mr. Kubdel tells his daughter.

"Well, thanks. It even goes with my fashion." She says as she examines the silver chains.

Soon, the two's food arrives. Surprisingly, Marinette is the one setting their plates.

"Hey, Marinette. I didn't expect to see you." Alix waves with a slight grin as Marinette gives them their food.

"Yep. I'm helping my mom in the kitchen and with orders a bit today." Marinette tells them with a smile before she sees the panjas bracelet.

"That's a beautiful bracelet, Alix." She compliments the girl.

Alix grins before raising her hand to give Marinette a better look while saying.

"Thanks. It's a family heirloom, apparently. Dad just gave it to me for my birthday." She tells Marinette.

"That's amazing. I got a family heirloom for my birthday a while back, too. Though, mine was a puzzle box instead of jewelry." She tells Alix with a smile.

"Huh, that's cool," Alix says before hearing her father cough to get her attention.

"Oh, right. Dad, this is Marinette, one of the gals in my class. Marinette, this is my Dad. He's a historian at the Louvre." Alix quickly introduces the two.

"How do you do?" Mr. Kubdel asks as he introduces himself with a welcoming smile.

"It's nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy the food while you're here." Marinette says back.

"Thank you. I'm sure we will." Mr. Kubdel says before Marinette leaves.

"She seems nice." Mr. Kubdel states as he digs into his food.

"Yeah, she's cool. Definitely not what I was expecting. I figured she'd end up like another Chloe. But she's nice." Alix says as she grabs some of her food.

"I'm glad you aren't having any problems with your classmates." Mr. Kubdel tells her.

Alix shrugs at this.

"Other than Chloe, everyone seems okay. I've hung out with a few of them besides Max and Kim. Alya and Rose are weirdos, though." Alix tells her father.

As the two have this conversation and Marinette heads back into the kitchen, Tikki messes with her wielder's computer. She soon stops when she notices a page on the new Egyptian exhibit in the Louvre. Her eyes widen as an idea pops into her head.

At Adrien's house, Plagg has similar thoughts when he sees the Egyptian exhibit article. Adrien is playing on one of his arcade machines to calm his nerves as Plagg messes with his computer.

"Hey, kid. How open would your old man be to you going to the museum for the new Egyptian exhibit?" Plagg suddenly asks Adrien.

"I don't think he'd be against it since it'll be educational. Why?" Adrien asks while continuing to play his game.

"Because I thought I'd let you know there's a bit of history about the Miraculous hidden within the exhibit. So, if you want to learn more about us, you can probably go there." Plagg reveals to him.

Adrien freezes in shock when he hears this, and his character dies.

"Are you serious?" Adrien asks Plagg excitedly.

"Yep. When I looked at some of the exhibits, I saw something related to the Miraculous." Plagg explains.

Hearing this causes Adrien to immediately sprint out of his room to beg Nathalie to convince his father to let him go to the museum. While he's running, he's thinking about inviting Nino. Plagg watches him go with an amused smirk before thinking.

"I wonder if the others will see the exhibit and bring their wielders there. 

In Sabrina's room, the girl listens to her Kwami as Barkk tells her about the hint she'll find if she goes to the Egyptian exhibit.

"So, there's a section in one of the exhibits about a previous Ladybug Miraculous wielder before ours?" Sabrina asks for clarification's sake as she looks at her Kwami.

"Yes. I recognized her on one of the inscriptions." Barkk nods.

Sabrina decides to check it out. She quickly texts her dad about this before grabbing a bag and exiting the apartment.

While these two inform their wielders about the exhibit, Tikki goes to the restaurant area to inform Marinette. But she stops when she sees Marinette and Alix talking again.

"So, Kim and I are having a challenge at the front of school today. Almost everyone in class is supposed to show up because of his boasting. You up for it? I can finally show you the art room when I beat him." Alix tells her, and Marinette smiles. 

"Sure. I don't have anything planned today." Marinette nods.

Seeing her wielder already making plans, Tikki decides against telling her and goes to the second person who knows about her.

"I'm sure he won't be busy." Tikki thinks before flying into Nate's room and stopping directly in his face, causing the teen to jump and fall back onto his bed.

"Don't do that!" Nate snaps at her as he sits up and glares at the giggling Kwami.

"Sorry. I promise that was an accident." She apologizes to him.

"What do you want?" Nate asks, getting to the point.

"There's a new exhibit opening in the museum. Incidentally, it has something involving one of my past wielders." Tikki explains, causing Nate's eyes to widen.

"Why are you telling me about this?" Nate asks in confusion.

"Because Marinette has already made plans to go with that Alix girl in your class to the school for a contest between her and Kim," Tikki informs him.

"So, what do you want with me? This isn't going to be something where I have to steal an exhibit, is it? Because I have no way to do that." Nate quickly tells her while raising his hands nervously.

"Of course not. I know there's nothing you can do about that. I thought you might want to go down there in her place and tell her about it later. That's if you can figure out which exhibit it is." Tikki states.

"Wait. You're not going to tell me which exhibit it is?" Nate asks her in confusion.

"Nope. It doesn't matter to me as much if one of my wielders finds information on a former one since they're all different. I thought this would be a good test of your observation skills." Tikki explains to him. 

Shrugging, Nate decides to go since he doesn't have much else to do ever since they stopped messing with the Miracle Box. He gets ready and heads down before leaving the hotel. Not long after he's gone, Marinette and the Kubdels come down.

"You girls have fun and be careful. I have to get back to the Louvre before my break ends." Mr. Kubdel says as he waves the girls goodbye.

"We'll be fine, Dad. Make sure Jalil doesn't do anything stupid." Alix says before she and Marinette leave for the school.

"I'll try." Mr. Kubdel sighs as he watches them go for a second before heading to the museum.

After a long walk, the two arrive at the school, where several classmates and Ondine are waiting. When Kim sees them arrive, he grins at Alix.

"What's this? Did you bring someone else to see your birthday crushing?" Kim playfully asks with no genuine mocking in his tone.

"Yeah, yeah, keep talking, Kim. I'm going to enjoy having you as my servant for a week as my last birthday gift." Alix taunts back with a smirk.

"Servant?" Marinette asks in confusion as Kim and Max walk up to them.

"Yes. Kim bragged that he could beat Alix in a race even if she used her rollerblades. Alix got angry, and the two made a bet where the other must listen to the winner for a week." Max explains to Marinette as Alix and Kim butt heads.

"It's not too late to back out. You already lost to a panther after you bragged about beating that." Alix mocks with a smirk, causing Kim to scowl.

"That was a magic panther. It doesn't count. Besides, you need the skates as a handicap since you have a height problem." Kim mocks back while holding a hand above her head at his height.

"Are they always like this?" Marinette asks as she observes the two.

"Yes, they're both extremely competitive. They'll have contests like this all the time." Max nods before some of the other spectators add fuel to the fire.

"Come on, Alix. Kick his butt and show him some girl power." Rose roots for Alix.

"You better not lose a second time, dude," Nino calls toward Kim before Ondine joins him.

"You've got this, Kim!" Ondine shouts toward him.

"You've got this, Alix." Nathaniel awkwardly roots for Alix while raising an arm.

At the same time as this is happening, the three people who know about the Miraculous are arriving at the museum nearly simultaneously.

"What are you guys doing here?" Nate asks in surprise when he sees Sabrina and Adrien walking to the entrance.

Recognizing the voice, the two turn. Adrien sees Sabrina and Nate behind him, while Sabrina only sees a confused Nate.

"Did you guys come to see the Egyptian exhibit, too?" Adrien asks, somewhat excited at this development since Nino said he couldn't make it and Adrien had to go alone.

"Well, I did. I thought it would be educational since it's the grand opening and will likely have a lot of people giving it attention." Sabrina calmly explains.

"I had nothing better to do," Nate says honestly with a shrug.

"Cool," Adrien says before the three enter the museum and find the new exhibit together.

"I didn't expect you to be interested in the exhibit, Nate. You never seemed like the type for this kind of thing." Sabrina tells Nate as the trio walks.

"Like I said, I had nothing better to do. I wasn't interested in seeing Alix and Kim race each other at the front of school, like Marinette." Nate explains.

"Oh yeah, Nino is there, too." Adrien nods.

"I'm pretty sure it's because it's Alix's birthday," Sabrina says, remembering everyone's birthday on the class list.

"That would make sense if your birthday is anything to go by." Nate jokes to Adrien.

Adrien laughs uncomfortably as the group walks into the Egyptian exhibit. This is short-lived as someone suddenly runs into him and Nate from behind, causing the person to drop a yellow binder and a black-stringed dark cyan scarab pendant with a golden base and gold details. When the two teens see who ran into them, they see Alix's older brother, Jalil, even if they don't know that yet.

Jalil himself quickly grabs the pendant and checks it before sighing in relief.

"It's not broken!" He says a little louder than he needs to in his happiness.

"We're okay, too. Usually, people ask the ones they run into if they're okay." Nate tells him with a glare as he rubs the arm Jalil pushed.

Hearing this, Jalil quickly realizes what he did and gathers his binder before getting up and turning to the group of three.

"Sorry about that. Wait, you're in Alix's class, right? I'm her older brother, Jalil. Are you here to see the new Tutankhamun exhibit, too?" Jalil introduces himself before he realizes who he's talking to.

"Yeah..." Nate says, a bit put off by his cheerfulness.

Before anything else can be said, Mr. Kubdel walks up behind the group.

"I'm glad to hear some of my daughter's classmates taking an interest in our exhibit." He says with a smile.

"Dad!" Jalil exclaims in surprise before grinning at him and pushing past Nate again.

"Dude," Nate says in annoyance before deciding to let it go and look around for that hint Tikki talked about.

Adrien and Sabrina aren't far behind him. Each of the three looks at the various exhibits for a hint of the Miraculous while Jalil and Mr. Kubdel talk.

Back with Marinette, she watches as Alix and Kim get into place after their trash talk session. Max stands in front of the two as he goes over the rules of this race.

"Let's review the official rules. Two laps around the fountains, which is approximately 500 yards. The first one across the line after their second lap is the winner. The loser will be forced to listen to whatever the winner wants for the 168 hours. Which should be approximately 11:49 next Saturday." Max explains before looking at the two contestants.

"Do you both understand the rules?" He asks them.

"I do. But you may have to say it a second time for Kim. You know he's pretty slow when it comes to comprehension." Alix says with a smirk.

"Hey!" Kim says before Max cuts them off.

"The trash-talking session is over. You're moment of talking the talk ended. Now it's time to walk the walk." Max states, using some of the sayings he learned while being friends with these two.

"You've got this, Alix!" Rose calls.

"Take him down." Juleka murmurs while pumping her fist slightly.

"You've got this, Kim." Nino roots since it seems like Kim is the underdog in this situation.

"Just make sure you don't trip!" Ondine calls toward him.

"On your marks," Max says, causing the two to get into their ready positions.

"Get set," He continues as the two slightly lean forward.

"Go!" Max shouts, and the two take off.

Kim takes an early lead over Alix, but she manages to catch up with him on the first corner. The two continue to be neck and neck. Every time one would take the lead, the other would soon catch up and overtake them. Kim is really demonstrating his athleticism while keeping up with Alix for a long sprint like this. It's clear to everyone who didn't know already that his constant boasting isn't just for show.

The spectators watch as they soon complete their first lap around the fountain and start cheering for the two contestants. But neither can hear these cheers as they're too focused on the contest. When they reach the third corner of the second lap, Alix grins excitedly while thinking.

"I'm so close. I need to be a little faster. I'm almost there."

After thinking that, she pushes herself a little more. In her excitement, she doesn't notice that her new jewelry starts faintly glowing. It soon vanishes as quickly as it appeared, though.

When they turn the last corner, it seems the amount of running is starting to hit Kim slightly as he slows down a bit during the final stretch. This lets Alix overtake him and cross the finish line before him.

"Alright!" Alix shouts as she raises an arm in victory while people cheer for her.

She then looks at a slightly tired-looking Kim as Ondine runs over to him with a water bottle.

"And that's what you get for messing with the birthday girl!" Alix announces with a smirk while pointing at Kim.

"Yeah, yeah. You just got lucky. I'll beat you next time." Kim promises before downing the water Ondine graciously gave him.

"We'll see about that after you spend a week as my servant. Now, get me lunch. Chop, chop." Alix orders while clapping her hands together smugly.

Groaning, Kim asks her what she wants, and Alix shrugs.

"I don't know. I think I saw a food cart around the corner." Alix tells him while pointing toward a corner.

Sighing, Kim walks off with Ondine following him, trying to keep his spirits up.

"You almost won. I'm sure you'll get her next time." She tells Kim with a smile, causing him to rub his head while blushing.

"Thanks. It's cool that you came after last time, Ondine." Kim tells her.

Ondine's smile grows as she stares at Kim as the two walk to get Alix something to eat. While they do that, Alix skates up to Marinette and grins.

"So, what do you say I show you the art room?" Alix asks before getting a confused look from Nathaniel.

"Alix. The school is closed today. Even clubs aren't allowed inside." He tells her, causing her to groan.

"Seriously? I had a project I wanted to work on today." She groans in frustration.

"It's alright. Maybe we can come back tomorrow." Marinette says reassuringly.

Back at the museum, the searching trio can't find anything about the Miraculous on any exhibits. They're not sure what to be looking for anyway. It isn't until Barkk points Sabrina at a specific Egyptian papyrus that one of the three finds anything.

"Over there. That should be where you find something." Barkk whispers to her wielder, causing Sabrina to rush toward a darker part of the area where a massive papyrus rests on the wall.

Sabrina looks at the papyrus but can't find anything about the Miraculous. Her search is soon interrupted by Jalil's voice coming up behind her.

"I'm telling you, Father, it's right there in the hieroglyphics," Jalil states while pointing at the papyrus in front of Sabrina.

He then notices her and lightly pushes her out of the way so he can continue.

"There, as you know, the one with the scepter is Tutankhamun, the first. And opposite of him is his princess, Nefertiti. There are exactly one hundred mummies beside them. She died several years before him, and the sun god Ra took her as his goddess." Jalil explains while pointing to different sections of the papyrus, causing his father to sigh.

"Yes, I know. I'm the director of this exhibit, Jalil." He tells Jalil in a slightly deadpan manner.

"Then you should also know Tutankhamun wanted to bring Nefertiti back to life and tried offering the sun god a new wife to replace her. This section seems to decipher the ritual he devised to do this." Jalil explains as he points at a different section. The section shows a woman being held by two men as a ray of sunlight surrounds her.

Jalil then takes off his glasses while proudly saying.

"Nobody has ever fully deciphered this section of the hieroglyphics, but I have. And I believe it's a magical chant used to complete the ritual. I'm sure of it." He announces to his father and anyone in the room who's listening, which includes Chloe, as she's just showing up.

"Oh great, another crazy guy." She mutters in annoyance as she walks over to the group.

Mr. Kubdel sighs at his son and rubs his temples while saying.

"Jalil, these types of frescoes are almost always the illustration of a legend. There's a reason why these are called legends."

However, Jalil isn't done.

"That's what everyone thinks, but I can prove it's real," Jalil promises his father while grabbing his arm, causing Mr. Kubdel to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"How exactly do you plan to prove this?" Mr. Kubdel asks in slight worry mixed with his skepticism.

"I just need the scepter." He promises his father before reaching for one of the main exhibits of the new Egyptian section of the Louvre. A gold and cyan-striped staff that curves into a recent moon at the top with a red-eyed cobra tip.

However, his father quickly grabs Jalil's arm and turns him away from the staff before glaring at his son.

"Absolutely not. I forbid you from touching that scepter. I'd lose my job here in an instant. That's a priceless historical object. It's not a toy." He chastises his son while raising a finger at him.

"Come on, Dad. We know magic is real because of Hawkmoth and the heroes. Our world is full of things that were once considered fiction. What if Tutankhamun actually managed to discover how to bring someone back to life?" Jalil pleads with his father desperately.

But his father doesn't care.

"Listen, Jalil. You need to get your head out of the papyrus scrolls. Even if what you say is true, you should know the steps of this ritual. I don't want to hear any more about this." Mr. Kubdel tells his son while motioning toward the mummies on the papyrus before storming off, ending the conversation with his son.

Jalil looks down in sadness and drops his papers while Chloe smirks slightly.

"Too bad, so sad." She mocks him, getting a scowl from Sabrina.

"Must you constantly mock others?" She asks Chloe with a disapproving glare.

"Yes. It's fun." She says with a smirk as Jalil dejectedly walks off.

After watching him leave, Sabrina gives one last glare to Chloe before returning to examining the papyrus for a hint about the Miraculous. They don't know that Hawkmoth senses Jalil's growing negative emotions from his lair.

"You weren't wrong in how we live in a world where the fantasy can become real. Now, let me help you make yours real. I know I could find some use out of having the power to resurrect the dead." Hawkmoth states as he creates a butterfly and sends it after Jalil.

Later that day, Jalil dejectedly sits outside the museum, looking down at his glasses. He doesn't notice the butterfly heading toward him before entering his scarab pendant.

"Pharoh. I am Hawk Moth. I have endowed you with the magical power of the ancient gods. Use them to complete the ritual and prove yourself right while bringing me the Miraculous of the heroes." Hawkmoth orders.

"My precious Nefertiti will come back to life!" Jalil grins as he talks as if he's Tutankhamun.

The corrupted black smoke envelops his body as he starts to transform.

Next Chapter

[zappedbyzabka]

Now I'm thinking about Terry in the Red Riding Hood verse.

Like.. maybe Johnny was a bit distrusting of Kreese at first, but he's slowly being seduced. Kreese is cornering him, telling him that it's okay and that Johnny can trust him. Johnny's debating between finding a way out or giving in. Then... a tall, handsome huntsman shows up with an axe, staring at the display in front of him.

“Found yourself some pretty prey, did you?” He says, eyeing Johnny up and down. Kreese steps back from Johnny and nods with a toothy grin.

Johnny sees this as his way out, running towards the huntsman. He realizes he was so wrong when the huntsman’s eyes go dark.

“Oh, honey, I apologize for the mistake.”

“What?” Johnny looks between the men as the huntsman pulls him closer and tightens his grip.

“Darlin’ Terry there is with me.” Kreese laughs.

“We like to-“ Terry kisses Johnny’s neck, “-share.”

Johnny trembles, but not in fear; it’s pure arousal. He finds himself craving both men now, wanting them to take him. He takes off his little red jacket and lets his head fall as he whispers, “Please.”

Terry and Kreese sandwich him between them, telling Johnny how good he is.

(And maybe Daniel the real huntsman actually shows up later who knows)

Omg I’ve been contemplating almost this exact scenario 🫠😭 but neither of them were pretending to be the huntsman.

I could see Silver playing along a little longer before revealing that he’s no hero, maybe reprimanding Kreese with a grin that Johnny can’t see because he’s hiding behind his back, turning when Johnny least expects it, and grabbing him. I don’t want to say too much and ruin the entire fic before I post it, but yes, I do.

Ooo, but just as good: Silver as the one to lure Johnny into the house and Kreese as the fake huntsman; it’s not as easy for Silver, but Johnny wanted to go in anyway. He cajoles Johnny into taking off some clothes—his hood and apron at least—and tries to get him out of everything else too, but Johnny is playing hard to get, being a brat, and teasing Terry by letting his dress ride up his skinny thighs, giving him a peek at where his white stockings end; soft skin that Terry can't wait to sink his teeth into.

And Silver doesn’t see the point in keeping his self control when he already has his prey right where he wants it.

When Kreese gets home, he first notices the torn dress on the floor, then, immediately after, Terry, on the floor between a pretty boy's legs and fucking him roughly, gripping the boy’s hips tight. And when Johnny sees Kreese, who really looks like he would be a hero, ax in hand and classically handsome, he widens his pretty blue eyes and gives Kreese the innocent look that usually gets him out of trouble, weakly starting to push on Terry’s broad shoulders and struggle, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t just clinging to him and very much enjoying himself.

I’m insane about this🫠 I don’t just want it to be smutty and fucked up but I want it to be somewhat angsty too.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Assistant For the Day

Fandom: Marvel (Biker/Flower Shop AU)

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x F!Reader

Summary: You didn't expect to see Joaquin so early at your shop. You thought you'd see him later that night, but you suppose he was probably just too excited to see you. And you can't blame him for that.

Tagging: @saintbvcky @xbuchananbarnes

Mi Rosa

You're on the phone when Joaquin enters your shop. You're writing down an order and you look up to see him, a surprised expression on your face.

He waltzes over to you at the counter. He's not wearing his leather jacket today. Instead, he dons a tight black shirt that hugs his biceps well and faded black jeans. He looks good...really good.

He leans over the counter, resting his arms on the surface, staring at you with concentration.

You hold back a laugh as you use your hand to hide his face. You look away as he tries to playfully smack your hand away.

"Right! I'll get started on your order right away! You can count on me! And I promise, ma'am, your wife will love what I put together! Thank you for doing business with me! Have a nice day!" you end the call and turn back to Joaquin to see him smirking at you.

"You're a little early aren't you?" You glanced at your phone to see that he was, in fact, four hours early.

He stood up, straightening out his back and shrugged, "Had nothing to do. Figured I'd come by and see you."

You chuckled, "It's nice to see you, T-Bird, but it's sort of a busy day for me so I don't think I'll be great company."

Joaquin cocked a brow at you, "T-Bird?"

You shrugged, "You know, the T-Birds from Grease? Has John Travolta?"

"Oooohh! The guy from Pulp Fiction right?"

You snort, "Yeah. Him. Anyway, he plays greaser. Leather jacket, nice hair. Doesn't ride a motorcycle though."

"I have nice hair, huh?" he leans with a smirk and you push him away. He laughs, "Okay. Anyway, maybe I could help you around the shop? You can tell me what flowers you need picked and I could get them for you?"

"You wanna help me?" you asked him curiously.

Joaquin nodded, "Yeah, if I get to spend more time with you. As long as you're okay with it, though. I don't wanna step on your toes or get in your way."

"No no! It's fine! It's just-that's very sweet of you."

"I have my moments, Rosa," he winks at you and you could feel your face getting warm.

You clear your throat and grab an apron off the hook behind the counter. You then toss it to him, "Wear this so you don't get covered in soil."

"Yes, ma'am!" he tied the apron around him and gave you a thumbs up, "Ready when you are, boss. I'm your assistant for the day!"

_______________

Joaquin read off of the slip of paper you handed him. While you were working on an order while he grabbed the flowers and fillers for another order. Besides from you and him, the shop was empty. The bluetooth speaker behind you softly playing music. He can hear you singing along to the lyrics under your breath. Your body moving to the music as well.

He took that moment just to watch you. You were in the zone working, but you looked so carefree. A smile on your face as you sang, body swaying to the music, and your hands working to arrange the flowers in the vase the customer picked out.

A warm feeling washing over Joaquin. He sets the basket of flowers down and marches over to you.

He grabs your hand, halting you from working on the arrangement.

"Wha-"

"Dance with me."

"Joaquin, I can't-"

"Just for a little bit, please?"

You sighed, giving him a shy smile, "Okay. Fine." You let him pull you out from behind the counter and take your hands in his. You two move along to the music. He twirls you out and you spin back in. He dips you back and you both laugh.

The door swings open and in walks a man with cropped dark brown hair and striking blue eyes. He's wearing a leather jacket similar to Joaquin's. His brows shoot up and he asks, "Did I interrupt something?"

You quickly pull away and clear your throat, "Sorry! Hi! Welcome to Petals! What can I do for you?"

The blue eyed man looks to Joaquin, "So this is where you ran off to, kid?"

You look at Joaquin questioningly and he runs a hand through his hair, "Um, this is my VP, Bucky. Bucky this is Ro-Y/N. This is Y/N."

Bucky smiles at you and offers a hand out to you, "Hi, Y/N. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise! You're the one who just got engaged, right?"

"Yes, ma'am! Been asking Sarah to marry me for years, but my girl's stubborn. She finally said yes though!" you can see the way his eyes twinkle as he talks about his fiancee, "Speaking of Sarah, she was supposed to come with me, but she's running a little late. She said she'd meet me here so we can check your shop out."

"Yeah! Feel free to browse while you wait for her. If you have any questions, let me know! Other than that, I'll be here working on a few orders."

"Sounds good. Thanks, Y/N," Bucky gives you a polite smile and waves as you head back behind the counter to get back to work.

Bucky looks at Joaquin up and down, "Nice apron, kid. What're you doing here so early? Thought you weren't gonna see her until tonight."

Joaquin shrugged as he headed back to the basket of flowers he left, "I had the day off from the shop. Thought I could come by and help Rosa out. Then we'd go on our date." he glanced back at your working form and a soft smile appeared on his face.

Bucky lowly whistled, "You got it bad, kid. Wait until Sam hears you're all heart eyes for-"

Joaquin groans, "Please, don't, Bucky. I don't need you guys to gimme shit like when Peter got with MJ. Besides, you're one to talk. Whenever Sarah walks into the room you turn into a puppy dog."

"Shut up," Bucky murmurs, giving Joaquin a shove.

"Hey! I don't care if you guys are a scary biker gang! You mess up my flowers, I'm whacking you with a broom!" You hollered from the front.

"Yes, ma'am!" Both Joaquin and Bucky replied.

Bucky chuckled lowly and murmured to Joaquin, "I like her." He gives Joaquin a pat on the shoulder and begins to peruse through the many aisles of flowers.

[ssaeri]

crushing popcorn beneath my feet iii

☆ tags: mammon x gn!reader, y/n is a carnival booth worker, mammon keeps spending money on their booth to spend time with them, y/n's an expert thrower and mammon's a bad student, mini-series ☆

☆ taglist: @my-perfect-machine ☆

"This stupid game is rigged."

You stare down Mammon's pointing finger with an amused smirk, and he hates how confident you look, hates how badly he wants to look away. Dressed in a brightly striped uniform shirt and a black apron over black pants, you're kind of cute...in a clown sort of way. Shrugging, you return to picking up stray baseballs and tossing them back into their plastic bin.

"Take it up with my boss, pretty boy — I'm just in charge of manning the money. If I were you, though, I'd focus more on doing my homework. This is the third day in a row that you're here, you realize that?" you ask. The last ball lands with a solid thud, and you smile at him over your shoulder, hands on your hips. "Unless the allowance you get from big brother Lucifer is big enough to waste on mediocre prizes."

"O-oi!" He scowls. He knew he shouldn't have come in his RAD uniform, but he didn't have time to go home and change before your shift ends. "What's with that dig, huh? The great Mammon makes his own money, thank ya very much."

You press your lips together like you know something he doesn't, but you don't say anything else.

"Anyway, stop changin' the topic. The game is rigged, and it's not fair to innocent participants like me."

"You?" You scoff. You're by the edge of the booth again. "Mammon, Avatar of Greed, your reputation precedes you. Trust me, you should be the last person to talk about fairness, or should I remind you about the funnel cake scam you tried to pull last month?" You raise your eyebrows. "Or the beanbag toss game before that? The one where you blocked the holes with black fabric and, what, hoped people wouldn't notice?"

Those were ridiculous plans, he admits, and the verbal thrashing he got from Lucifer still rings in his ears, but he only got caught because those stands were half-planned. He's gotten better at designing carnival games; just give him some time, and he'll find a way to set up shop on the outskirts of the grounds again. Maybe he'll even get Levi to donate some plushies — the expensive limited edition ones will attract some eyes — and boom. Easy money.

You lean across the counter, head tilted, and after spending so much time observing your expressions, he knows now that whatever you're thinking is going to be—

"Have you considered the fact that you're just not good?"

—annoying as hell. Seriously, how do you not quake before one of the strongest demons in Devildom? Sure, he's more easy-going than some of his brothers, but he's still the second-born and that has to count for something.

Then again, you're the same one who lied to Lucifer's face, vaguely threatened him, and lived to tell the tale.

"I'm better than almost all of ya customers! I bet the boards are nailed down or somethin'. There's just no way I've been playin' so many rounds and not winnin' the grand prize." This may have started because he had a special request for you, but at this point, he wonders if his pride is on the line. "Wait a minute, why don't you prove it? Come down here and throw some yourself."

You shake your head with an exaggerated pout. "Sorry, love, but I'm on the clock. No time to fool around with you," you say, but then you pause. "Actually, how about this: my shift tomorrow doesn't start until the evening. If you come a little earlier than that, I'll show you how to throw before I have to work."

This isn't a date. Technically, it's a lesson, but Mammon supposes that it's as close as he'll get for now. And this time, he'll definitely dress to impress.

Which is why he shows up in his signature leather jacket and jeans, yellow-tinted sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose. This look never fails to drive people crazy, though as he approaches your stand, he belatedly remembers that the last he wore this, you saw him on the run from Lucifer. Not his coolest moment. He sees you leaning against the booth's side, smiling up at the current worker as your fingers fly across your D.D.D — add texting without looking to your list of talents.

You notice him out of the corner of your eye. "Hey there!" You wave, pocketing your device as he gets closer. Then you gesture to the demon manning the stand in your place. "This is my friend, Belial. Belial, this is the one I've been telling you about, the one that wants to learn."

"Ah, yes," Belial murmurs, lips curling into a sneer that you don't blink at. "The pretty boy, non? I hear that you have not been able to win at all. A bit of a — how to say — losing streak, hm?"

"It's Mammon to you. The great Mammon, if you're unlucky enough. And s'not because I've been losing; I can knock 'em over easy."

"That is not what they have been telling me," Belial says, nodding at you. "No matter. You have the best teacher in town. You know y/n has the highest win ratio out of all of the workers — almost eighty percent. It is a good thing they are a worker because they would clean out our supply as a customer."

You give an easy laugh, waving off the praise. "You're making up numbers, Bel; lucky shots, that's all they were."

Now that Belial mentions it, Mammon's never actually seen you throw before. If you're as good as your friend's saying...maybe he's just been embarrassing himself this whole time. You gesture for him to join you at the counter before handing off two baseballs. It's maybe thirty minutes before your shift is supposed to start, but you're already partially dressed in your uniform. The striped shirt, a long-sleeve version for the gradually cooling temperature, is tied around your waist.

The third ball remains in your hand, your fingers curling around it as you evaluate the targets. "Since you're my guest today, why don't you choose? Which one should I aim for?"

"Go big or go home, right?" He points straight at a Hell Challenge one. But then he backtracks, murmuring, "Unless that one's too hard for a warm up? You can start with the—"

Your wind-up is so quick he barely sees it, but he feels how hard your foot connects with the ground as you swing your body into the throw. The ball hits its mark, dead-center, with a solid thwack! and Mammon swears he sees smoke as it spins in place. The ball drops, and so does his jaw.

"Eighty percent." Belial whistles lowly. "I told you."

PT. 4: here

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑭𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑫𝒐𝒘𝒏 (𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒏) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)/ 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞)

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐍𝐨𝐧-𝐈𝐝𝐨𝐥! 𝐀𝐔

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞/ 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧)

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓.𝟓𝐊

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐒𝐚𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬.

𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐉𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬

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Taking the milkshake glasses off the counter and making sure the space was throughly wiped down and sanitized, San's eyes looked up when the familiar midnight blue Nissan sedan, whose model he'd never given a damn to memorize, parked in front of the restaurant, signaling the arrival of the person working the closing shift that day. His heart practically somersaulted when he caught glimpse of the soft, silky [insert color] hair stepping out of the vehicle, the owner such pretty hair owning an equally beautiful face. While his heart pounded, his stomach turned sick when he saw the driver come out as well, going over to where she was, whispering a goodbye in her ear. To anyone passing by, it'd look like a normal couple, a boyfriend bringing his girlfriend to work and giving her a kiss, no doubt promising to pick her up later.

But San knew better.

His eyes always caught on to the way she stepped back slightly, her arm folding across her body when his hand reached out to caress it, his fingers no doubt gripping down harshly on her skin. She didn't kiss him back, she just allowed him to place his lips momentarily on hers before patting her cheek lightly with his palm and soon going back to his vehicle and driving away. He watched her take a deep breath before she felt ready to go inside and start her shift.

"Hey Y/N!" He did his usual friendly and warm way of greeting her, his smiling eyes and dimples putting a genuine smile on her own somber countenance.

"Hi San. How's it been?" She inquired as she punched her number in.

Shrugging his shoulders, he sighed.

"Same as almost every Wednesday. Dead, boring and mostly the regulars or just travelers."

She shook her head, already mentalizing herself that it'd be another day spent cleaning what's already clean and over stocking the merchant just to pass time. She went inside the office to put on her uniform shirt and apron. San in no way ever peeked in to see her cause he was a pervert, he respected her and would never allow himself to think of any inappropriate scenarios involving her. However, he would always sneak a tiny glance every now and then for one particular reason. Tilting his head slightly so he could see through the tiny cracked door, he watched her take off her denim jacket and felt his grip tighten on the glass cup he was currently drying when he spotted some purple blotches on her bicep. He immediately looked away as he did not want to get angry in front of her. He hastily put the cup back in the shelf under the counter, throwing the rag onto the marble counter in a rather aggressive manner.

"Ok San, tell me what needs to be finished."

Coming out in full uniform and hair held up with her usual choice of a colored scrunchie, this day choosing yellow, Y/N looked at her coworker and waited for him to give her a task.

"Nothing really except wait on customers. I already stocked the fridge and pulled out the stuff needed from the freezer."

He was always doing that, doing not only his side workload but also hers, which more often than not had her pouting at him.

"So I'll just be bored to death?" She huffed.

Chuckling, San stepped closer to her, making sure to keep an elbow distance from her, knowing she tended to get apprehensive when someone came to close to her than she was comfortable with.

"Not really. There's plenty of things to amuse yourself with. Besides.......maybe now you won't hurt yourself so much from lifting heavy objects..."

His tone lowered involuntarily at that last part. He knew very well the bruises weren't cause she'd accidentally hit herself on the railings in the back because she lost her balance carrying stuff in and out of the freezer. She herself tensed up a little at his words.

"Oh right......heh.....clumsy me right?" She tried to plaster an unfazed smile on her face, only succeeding about halfway.

Unable to control his movements, San's hand reached out to tuck some of the hair slipping out of her ponytail behind her ear. It hurt him to no end when she flinched slightly at his movement, he could feel her tensing up when his fingers made contact with her temple. As he squinted his eyes, he could make out the uneven patch of concealer and powder on the area close to her hairline, a tiny hue of reddish purple peeking slightly through. She relaxed when he finally retreated his hand.

"Just try to be careful and take care of yourself. I don't like seeing you get hurt."

She probably didn't know, or maybe she did, he was painfully obvious when it came to her, that he meant what he said in more ways than one.

"You too....see you San."

Once more, he held himself back from blurting out everything that was kept in his chest, instead opting for giving her a farewell and going out to the parking lot to get inside his red 1989 Ford f150 and drive over to his friend's house, the bunch of them waiting for him to complete his shift and come over to their place.

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"Aish seriously San, just forget about her. Plenty of fish in the sea." One of the pair of giants told him as he chugged back the remnants in his bottle.

"And you have a lot of fish waiting for you to reel in your rod so they can bite right in." His friend sitting next to him wiggled his eyebrows at him.

"Stop you guys." San pushed the blonde away.

"Mingi and Wooyoung are right though San. You have girls and guys lined up all willing to drop their pants for you at anytime. Lucky bastard." Yunho, the other half of the giant squad chuckled lowly.

"I don't want any of them though... you guys don't understand." San looked down at the floor.

The other blonde haired male in the room, Yeosang, rolled his eyes at him, unable to understand his infatuation for the girl.

"You've been pining for her since high school. When are you going to let her go? She chose and still chooses to this day Lee Taeyong."

Slamming his fist on the table, San angrily looked at him.

"Don't fucking mention that asshole's name near me!"

Everyone grew quiet, the members who were bordering on getting tipsy suddenly sobering completely up as if there was absolutely no drop of alcohol in their system. San was usually a very friendly and sweet person, but he was also sensitive and emotional, and lately he'd manifest it through anger and rage, and it was truly terrifying to them. But they knew he had reasons for lashing out like that. They knew his hatred for Taeyong, not just for being able to score the girl he'd been in love with for ages, San would have stayed content and wholeheartedly happy had she'd been loved and cared for like she deserved to be. But instead, he had to watch as she was constantly belittled and sometimes shoved hardly into the ground, landing her scraped knees or bruised palms. He could only imagine what went on behind closed doors.

"San......you have to accept reality, all of us do whether we like it or not. Her friends aren't blind to what's happening to her. Teacher's at university aren't either, they've all tried approaching her about it.....she won't listen to anyone." Yunho decided to finally say what everyone was thinking.

"She doesn't deserve it! It's toxic and sick!" He cried out in desperation.

"But ultimately it's her choice........ you can't force her to get help or leave if she doesn't want to. She's been with him for years."

Unwilling to hear anymore, San quickly picked up his leather jacket and stormed out the house. He drove the streets like a mad man, his fist hitting the steering wheel every time he stopped at a red light. He would have continued his angry drive back to his place had he not spotted an all too familiar denim jacket walking on the road. Slowing down the truck, he pulled closer to the right side and stopped right in front of the figure trembling in the cold night air.

"Y/N?" He rolled down his window so she wouldn't be startled by some stranger suddenly pulling up next to her.

"Oh! Hey San!" She said through chattering teeth.

"You're walking home all alone?" He could not believe this.

"Uh....yeah! My boyfriend got caught up at work....didn't want to bother him so I'm walking home...it's not that far!" She tried to sound reassuring, but he could see right through her.

"You want a ride?" He offered.

She hesitated for a moment, wondering if it'd be a good idea or not.

"Hey it's ok. I'm not going to kidnap you or anything. I'll just drive you straight home. We don't even have to talk if you don't want. Just you, me and some old jams playing on the radio all right?"

Unable to resist that dimple smile that always made her feel fuzzy inside, she allowed him to open the door for her from the inside. After giving him her address, she found he stayed true to his word and just drove in silence the entire time. She was kinda thankful for it. She was tired after her shift, exhausted from walking and from how late it was, and more than anything, she felt like she was going to spill tears any minute if she even got out a single word. She felt worn out, her head resting on the window, eyes opening and closing as tiredness began to overtake her. She only awoke when she felt a light hand caress her cheek. In other circumstances, she would have immediately swatted the hand away and pushed the face near her own as far away as possible. But she didn't do that, she felt strangely safe and protected by the male next to her as he brushed some hair off her face.

"We're here. Safe and sound just like I promised."

Safe.........

For some reason she felt anything but safe as she looked at the house in front of her.

"Thanks San." She smiled weakly at him as she began taking off her seat belt.

"Call me if you ever need a ride. I mean it. I don't want you catching a cold...or-or worse..." He admitted.

"Thank you, really. Good night. I'll see you tomorrow."

She took slow steps to the front door, San didn't drive away until he confirmed she was inside. With a heavy heart, he drove away back to his place, unaware that the girl he dropped off was watching through the peephole his departure, still staying there moments after he had disappeared from sight. She sighed despondently as she dropped her bag onto the floor, slumping her body onto the couch as it was useless to try to go sleep in the bedroom given the pornographic moans and thumping noises coming from inside it. Wouldn't be the first or last time she came home to such sounds. She simply curled up into a fetus position, falling asleep in the usual way:

Tears falling out of the corners of her eyes.

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"What do you mean she's not coming?"

San nervously gulped as his boss told him Y/N's boyfriend called to say she had a little accident and couldn't go in that day. He knew it was bullshit and he was going to find out what really happened. After going to classes the next day, he actively searched around campus for any signs of her or Taeyong. After asking around, a girl motioned to the football field, saying that's where they'd often go to at times. San squinted his eyes as he looked all over for them, finally spotting them near the bleachers. His fist tightened as he watched Taeyong once again put his filthy hands on Y/N, shoving her to the ground, making her land face first, her palms outstretched and scraping against the grass under her. He watched as Taeyong simply walked away, leaving her there, not caring about if she was seriously injured or not. Unable to hide any longer, San sauntered over to her, his arms picking her up from the ground.

"Y/N it's me!"

He didn't mean to shout at her, but having her scream and cover her head protectively gave him no other option. He nearly began crying himself when she lifted her head, her eyes full of fear and panic.

"Oh! It's you San! Sorry for that!"

As she stood up, she began dusting the dirt off, ignoring the throbbing pain in her ankle. Faking a smile, she giggled nervously.

"Clumsy me again, tripping on some-"

"Y/N stop lying to yourself. I saw everything."

Her face darkened at his words, her eyes becoming glued to the floor as she avoided his gaze like she did the others. She hated seeing their pitiful stares and shameful eyes, she believed San probably had the same look as well. She couldn't be more wrong as his eyes just looked at her in despair and agony.

"Why? Why do you put up with it? Why do you stay with him? Why do you torture yourself like this?.....

Why do you love him?"

He asked that last question more to himself than her. Y/N crossed her right arm over her chest, her hand clutching her left bicep as she gently massaged the muscle there. San knew it was the same bruised arm he had seen a few days ago, it was probably even more battered up than the last time he saw it.

"I can't......I don't know....."

Seeing her struggling to form words, San opted for gently hovering his hands around her, maneuvering and ushering her to sit on the bleachers without ever laying a single finger on her. Opening his backpack, he took out the mini first aid kit his older friend, Seonghwa, had given him, actually deciding to put it to use for once.

"I'm going to clean these scrapes ok?"

He looked at her and waited til she gave him permission to touch her. She did not flinch away at all when he began wiping off the dirt and blood accumulated on her knee or hands, only momentarily when he applied the disinfectant spray on her wounds.

"Sorry." He apologized.

"It's fine.......I'm used to hurting...." She finally admitted.

He wanted to speak up again, but found it hard to find the right words. He focused on applying ointment on her wounds and bandaging them up nicely.

"How long has he pushed you around?" He needed to know.

"Started 3 months after we became official.....but even before that, he'd often tease me and what not........ it doesn't hurt ....." She lied once more.

"The Y/N I knew never lied even to save her life. Sad how someone like him managed to change that." He finished wrapping the gauze around her knee.

"I haven't changed at-"

"Yes you have." He interrupted once again.

"The Y/N from then was a cheerful, happy ray of sunshine known for her bubbly personality and kindness to others. She loved going out with friends and hated staying indoors for too long. She was always honest and ready to help anyone in need, especially cute abandoned animals, she was a real softie for them."

She chuckled softly at his words, not denying any of it.

"I still am soft for them." She corrected him.

"But you're no longer happy. You're sad, somber and being in pain all because of an asshole who doesn't deserve you.......he doesn't deserve your love."

Although she heard him and wanted to believe his words, her mind blocked out such reasoning.

"But he does love me.......he swears it....every time it happens, he apologizes and promises-"

"It's all lies Y/N! He doesn't love you! If he loved you he wouldn't hurt you physically and emotionally. He wouldn't be the reason why you're only a shell of the person you used to be. He doesn't love you and he'll never love you..."

She let his words sink, trying to digest what he was saying.

"I know because I've loved you for so long and I'd never even think about putting you through half of what he has."

She whipped her head up at his words, seeing the earnest and emotion in his eyes as he finally confessed what was in his heart.

"San......" She was left speechless.

He teared up, scoffing at himself as a dry smile formed on his face.

"You have no idea how much it hurts seeing you be in pain and not able to do anything about it. Having you flinch at my touch when all I want is to comfort and hold you."

Without thinking, he cupped her cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears that began falling down her eyes.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself Y/N. You can't spend the rest of your life living in fear and chained to someone who just wants to make you suffer. You can't allow someone to take away your joy and peace of mind. You shouldn't be afraid to be free and enjoy life. You deserve to be happy and loved."

He used his last bit of self control he had and stopped himself when he leaned his face too close to hers, his nose brushing against hers, expecting her to shiver away from his touch, but instead she seemed to wait for his next move. Knowing he'd never forgive himself for it, he pulled back, leaving her disappointed and himself in agony.

"Please take care..."

Taking off his leather jacket, he placed it on her back, fanning out the sleeves so it'd cover her shoulders. Then he turned around and began walking away from her, shoulders slumped down and heart aching to go back and just take her away for good. But he resolved himself not to. Not until she specifically asked him to.

When Y/N finally got back to her place, Taeyong wasn't there. He was probably spending the night at one of his side chick's place, no doubt getting buzzed and high out of his mind. Her soft bed no longer comforted her, so instead she slid down and sat on the floor, hugging her knees and occasionally running a finger through the fabric of San's jacket. His scent was still on it and every time she inhaled it, it had a soothing and calming effect on her mind and heart that soon helped her tense body relax until she felt sleepy. It took a lot of effort, but she climbed into her bed, not bothering to cover herself with the blanket or change into more comfortable and less confining clothes.

San's jacket was the only comforting thing at that moment......

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Nudging him with his elbow, Yeosang whispered to the male next to him the presence of the girl that was slowly approaching them. Always reacting to anything related to her, San turned his head and smiled softly when he saw Y/N walking up to him.

"Hey." He greeted her.

"Hi.....I came to return this. Thanks for letting me borrow it." She held out his leather jacket, neatly folded and visible clean.

"Oh Y/N, you really didn't need to go that far." San became shy at her gesture, and worried about if she washed it cause he had forgotten to and it disgusted her.

"Don't say that. It's the least I can do for all you've done..."

She looked up at his eyes as she said that, her heart fluttering when he rested his hand on top of hers when he tried to take back his treasured article of clothing, letting it stay there for a moment, his fingers giving her hand a light squeeze. His friend behind him looked back and forth between the both of them, confused by what was going on and internally gagging at their mushy scene.

"I wanted to say thank-"

"Y/N!"

The voice calling out for her roared in her ears, sending her into a panic mode as she pulled away immediately from his physical contact. San noticed the way her body tensed up and her eyes became afraid. His own eyes narrowed at the icy blue haired man strutting up to them, a chilling smile on his manga like visuals.

"Hey baby, I've been looking all over for you. What were you doing?" He asked in a concerning tone, face bearing down on hers rather uncomfortably.

"I- I was j-just giving San back this.." She stammered as she gestured to the jacket in her hand.

Letting out a barely audible scoff, Taeyong gripped the jacket, prying it off her delicate fingers before tossing it back to San.

"Thanks bud."

San glared at him, resisting the urge to throw a punch to his face. Seeing him unresponsive, Taeyong just shrugged and suspiciously wrapped an arm around Y/N.

"Come on babe. Let's go back home."

His fingers dug into her skin, applying very painful pressure to her bruise, an occasional whimper coming out of her mouth as they walked across the football field. San's jaw tightened as he watched Taeyong lean in and whispered something in her ear, no doubt some degrading words judging by the way she cowered beneath him.

"San just let it go." Yeosang's voice said.

"I can't Yeosang. Every time I see him even breathe near her.......I feel like combusting." He grunted in frustration as his friend tried to calm him down.

"Taeyong, please stop. It really hurts." Y/N cried out, her fingers prying his hand off her aching arm.

"Shut up you little bitch. How dare you go talk to that punk? Making me look bad and having me talk to that low life." He cringed in disgust.

"I was only thanking him for lending me-"

"So what? Were you going to lend yourself to him too? Is that what you were going over to him for?"

She instantly shook her head.

"What?! No!"

"Yeah right. I bet you already whored yourself out to him...didn't you?!"

Not caring that there was still people nearby, Taeyong harshly yanked her by her hair before tossing her onto the ground, catching the attention of everyone around, including San and Yeosang.

"Fucking whore." He spat at her.

"Don't." Yeosang held his hand out when he saw San taking a step forward.

"But I can't-"

Yeosang kept an arm around him to keep him in place.

"Don't get involved. You'll only make things worse."

San looked back at the scene, his heart breaking seeing Y/N once again on the floor, trembling like a frightened kitten who had no protection. When she looked up, he saw tears already brimming down her face.

"Get up. We're going home." Taeyong sternly commanded, turning to walk away as usual.

"No."

He stopped dead in his tracks at her refusal.

"Excuse me?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

Not knowing how or where she got the strength from, Y/N got up and faced him with determination.

"I've finally had enough."

Both San and Yeosang were shocked at hearing her words, one of them more incredulous than anything and the other proud of her for finally standing up for herself. Taeyong too was put out of sorts seeing her be so bold.

"Haha, real funny baby. Now let's go home." He walked closer to her, reaching out to yank her arm, but she slapped it away.

"No! I told you! I've had it! It's over!" She declared.

Sensing he was really losing his power and control over her, Taeyong lunged at her, fist held up in the air.

"Listen here you-"

Y/N covered her face, stepping back when he came close to her. She opened her eyes and uncovered herself when she felt someone suddenly step in front of her, their hand blocking Taeyong's fist from even approaching her.

"Stay out of this Choi." Taeyong grunted.

"She told you it's over Taeyong."

San easily pushed him away single handedly, making him stumble backwards.

"Now leave and never bother her again."

Not giving up yet, Taeyong looked back at Y/N menacingly.

"And do tell me Y/N? If it's over, where are you going to live now?" He taunted her.

Realizing he was right, she almost felt defeated until San spoke up again.

"She's going to live with me." He firmly answered.

"I fucking knew it. You were being a whore with him."

Unable to hold himself back anymore, San swung hard, fist colliding with Taeyong's face, sending him falling down against the floor. Y/N covered her mouth as she gasped sharply when San picked Taeyong back up from his collar, shaking him fiercely.

"Call her that one more time! I dare you to!" He warned him as he got ready to take another swing.

"San stop!" He felt Yeosang intervene once again, holding his elbow with his hands.

"Yeosang! Just let me-"

"Stop for Y/N's sake, she's already seen and lived enough violence, I really don't think she needs to see any more." Yeosang tilted his head to the Y/N who had already began backing as far away as possible.

Realizing his friend was right, San begrudgingly let go of his most hated rival.

"Try to come near her again and I will end you."

With those final words, he went over to where Y/N was, his face softening up when he looked at her. He held out his hand to her and waited for her response. He felt happy when she finally reached out and allowed him to guide her out to the parking lot, and thankful that he decided to park somewhere where there weren't a lot of people.

"You all right?" He finally spoke up when they were finally inside his truck

"Uh...yeah...actually...I'm fine.... can you believe I actually did it?"

Although she sounded enthusiastic, he heard the crack in her voice and her nervous laughter wasn't helping her case. Instead of turning the car on, he shifted to his right to look at her. He watched as the smile left her face, her fidgeting hands suddenly shake uncontrollably and her laughter suddenly turned to her hyperventilating. Knowing what was happening, San immediately pulled her into an embrace for the very first time in his life, holding her tightly, hands running through her hair as she began breaking down, sobbing violently, finally releasing all the pent up pain and suffering she had been bottling up for years.

San himself wanted to cry, but he didn't for her sake. He just let her cry her eyes out. It took a little over 10 minutes, but finally she started to calm down.

"Thank you....for everything."

Kissing her forehead, he poked her nose and smiled at her.

"Don't mention it. Let's get you somewhere warm now."

He made sure to play soothing music for her on the ride to his house. He noticed how once again she was drifting off to sleep and simply allowed her rest, knowing she was probably exhausted not only from crying so much but also from standing up to her abusive ex boyfriend moments ago. That certainly took a lot of energy and strength from her part and he was proud of her.

It was already dark when they got home, the brooding and cloudy day shortening the daylight and making it night at such an early hour. San gently picked up Y/N and got her out of the car, carrying her sleeping figure bridal style inside his house. It was small, but at least it was cozy and would be safe for her. Peeling back the covers from his bed, he carefully laid her down on it before tucking her in. When he made sure she'd be comfortable, he turned to leave the room, deciding it'd be better for him to sleep on the couch, not wanting to overstep any boundaries or have her freak out. He barely got to the door when he heard a tiny and hushed whisper of his name.

"San?"

He immediately looked over to see what she needed.

"Could.....could you please sleep by my side?.... I'd feel more safe that way..."

She didn't want to admit it right then, but it had been so long since she'd slept in someone's arms and she really craved physical affection from him. Happy to oblige, San went over and got into bed with her.

"Are you going to be ok if I wrap my arm around you?" He asked for permission first.

"Please just hold me." She begged as she cuddled up next to him, her face burying inside his chest.

He wasted no time in throwing his arm around her, his delicate fingers drawing soothing circles on her arm.

"Don't be afraid. You're safe now and you're going to be all right. I'm here and I'll protect you."

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More than a year passed. It was a long and arduous process. At first Y/N didn't want to go through it, but San kept insisting she get therapy. After promising to accompany her and staying by her, she finally gave up and started seeing a psychologist. It wasn't easy, for neither of them. It was painful for her to finally speak up about all the abuse she endured for years and it was equally torturous for San to hear the rest of the untold story. It truly sickened him that one day he nearly busted Taeyong's face when he met him outside the school, but was ultimately held back once more by one of his friends. Besides his main priority was helping Y/N, helping her to properly function again and to bring a little more joy into her life, even going out to adopt a cat for her, naming her Byeol. She became their cute little baby, even if she was a total, well, cat at times and didn't want to cuddle.

"That's ok. I know a cat willing to cuddle me." Y/N chuckled.

San looked around confused.

"Wait! You got another cat? Where is- Oh! You meant me." He blushed hard when she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body next to his as she snuggled next to him on the couch.

San did not hope for and did not expect Y/N to ever return his feelings, he was satisfied with her just being out of that horrible situation and being able to help her. Never did he dream she'd ever accept to be his and especially not ever cross his mind that he'd ever be able to actually claim her as his own.

But here she was, looking so beautiful underneath his body, wearing nothing but his leather jacket as he rolled his hips against hers. His fingers were laced with hers as his lips pulled apart from hers so he could look at her.

"Fuck...you're so damn pretty."

He leaned back in to place open mouth kisses on her jaw that traveled down to her neck. Although he nibbled occasionally, he made sure not to leave any marks on her soft and delicate skin.

"San...." She breathed out heavily, her hands breaking from his grasp to run through his black hair, paying close attention to the faded green streaks near his bangs.

"Oh god- please repeat that a little more." He groaned, loving the way she called out his name with such lust.

One of his hands traveled down her sides to cup one of her thighs, lifting her leg so he could hit deeper inside her. Feeling him at a whole new angle had Y/N gripping his muscly arms, her panting now becoming more erratic as she began clenching around him.

"San-" She called out again.

He chuckled slightly, hips snapping up to thrust just a little harder in her.

"Go ahead beautiful. Cum all over me, I want to feel you."

Hearing his low and suddenly husky voice urging her on, she let out a tiny whimper, her legs wrapping around his waist, using it as leverage to ride out her high. Her nails raked themselves into his back, her body pressed as close as it could be against his.

"Oh my god!" He gasped out as he twitched inside of her, his cum coating her walls, leaving her feeling full and complete.

He collapsed on top of her, his labored breathing occasionally resulting in a little choke as he tried to compose himself. When he finally came to, he brushed his lips against her temple.

"I love you so much."

She smiled at him as he adjusted the jacket that enveloped her, a real genuine smile.

"I love you too Sannie."

Giving her a tiny peck, he began sliding the jacket off.

"Let's get you out of this. It's probably too hot to be wearing it anymore."

She huffed and pouted.

"Baby no. I love wearing it. It feels like it's hugging me." She grabbed it and wrapped it around her more tightly.

"You know what else wants to hug you? My arms. So take off the jacket and let me snuggle you love."

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