#and the one dude does not answer the phone/take orders

[neutralchaos1]

.

[wandascosmic]

whatcha doing with a boy like that? (1)

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

part one of 'you belong with me' series

summary: basically a wanda series inspired by jim and pam from the office

word count: 1348

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7

“I have a question for you,” Wanda whispers. 

You smile, leaning further over Wanda’s receptionist's desk to hear the question. 

You can see Wanda suppressing a laugh as she says, “Are you going to Jennifer’s cat party on Sunday,” finally breaking as she finishes her sentence.

You laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe how serious she is about her cats.”   

Wanda looks up at you from her chair smiling at you, and you smile back, secretly pulling out a container of mixed berry yogurt from behind the desk and placing it on the elevated edge along with a metal spoon on top of the lid. 

“You made me forget what I came here for,” you say, pointing towards the yogurt. “Special delivery of a mixed berry yogurt for your afternoon snack break.” 

Wanda grins and takes the items from her best friend. 

“You know my favorite flavor of yogurt?” 

“Nah, it was the last one in the fridge.” 

Wanda’s face falls. 

You smile. “I’m kidding,” you say, bringing the smile back to Wanda’s face, “of course I know the same flavor of yogurt you’ve eaten for the past 7 years.” 

Vision doesn’t. Wanda thinks in her head. But that’s fine, he only sees her at the end of the workday, so it makes sense that you would know instead. 

You’re about to ask Wanda what’s wrong since you see her lost in thought, but you’re both suddenly interrupted. 

“Y/N!” Tony, your boss calls out. “Stop giggling with Maximoff and get back to work!”

“Since when did you care about your work Tony?” Nat calls out. 

“Good point,” he responds, walking back into his office.

You turn to look at Wanda giving her an apologetic look. “I should probably get back to work anyways,” you tell her, pointing at your desk over your shoulder. 

Wanda nods, a little deflated on the inside since you’re the only thing that makes her work day more interesting. 

You sigh as you sit down at your desk, picking up your phone to make a few sales calls. 

Wanda does the same, doing her job of answering the ringing phone with ‘Shield Industries this is Wanda’ over, and over, and over again.

You notice Wanda out of the corner of your eye, seeming a bit forlorn compared to before. 

You smirk, knowing exactly what to do to make her feel better. 

“God, damn it!” Sam yells out, growling. “Damn it! Y/N!” 

“Hold on, hold on. Sam, what happened?” Tony asks. 

Sam sighs, putting his head in his hand. 

“She put my stuff in Jell-O again,” he pulls out the plate that has the stapler encased in the lemon dessert. 

And right on cue, Wanda lets out a shocked laugh, her hand going to cover her mouth to suppress her laughter. You smile. 

“That’s real professional. Thanks a lot, Y/N. Tony, do something.” 

You decide to engage in a bit more banter for Wanda. You pull out a Jell-O cup and a plastic spoon from your drawer, opening it to eat the treat. 

“How do you know it was me?” You ask as you lean back in your chair. 

“It’s always you!” Sam snaps.   

Tony sighs. “Alright, the thing about practical jokes is you need to know when to start and when to stop,” you look over at Wanda, sharing a knowing look as she smiles at you. “And Y/N, I think it’s time for you to stop putting Sam’s personal items in Jell-O.

You nod, placing the Jell-O cup down and swallowing the Jell-O that had been in your mouth. “Alright. Sam, I'm sorry, because I have always been your biggest flan,” your mouth quirks up into a smile at your pun. 

You watch Wanda out of the corner of your eye bite down on her fist to stop from laughing. 

Tony snorts. “That was a good one,” he puts his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You know what, that’s just the way it is around here. Just deal with it, Sam.”

“I’m not gonna deal with it, Tony. It’s damage to company property.” 

“I’ll order a new one, dude. And those staplers are getting old anyways.” 

Sam sighs. “Fine, whatever.” 

Tony leaves to go back to his office.

“Hey, Sam,” you say.  

“What do you want?” 

“You should’ve put me in custardy.” 

Wanda lets out another laugh. 

“Do you like going out at the end of the week for a drink?” You ask Wanda, leaning over her receptionist desk and smiling at her. 

“Yeah,” Wanda replies, looking up at you. 

“Yeah, I mean.” you shrug. “That’s why we’re all going out. You know, so we can have an end-of-the-week drink.” 

“So when are we going out?” she asks, hopeful to have some fun after a while. 

“I don’t know, tonight, hopefully.” 

Suddenly, the creak of the door opening is heard, and you both turn your heads to see Vision walk in. Wanda’s fiance. You pull away from her desk. 

“Hey,” he greets you.

“Hi,” you reply. 

“Hey, babe,” he says to Wanda. 

“Hi, Vis,” she leans over her desk to kiss him. You look away. “Do you mind if I go out for a drink with my friends from work?” she points to you and the rest of the Shield Industry staff. 

He looks over at you before responding. “Uh, no, no, let’s just go home, Wanda.” 

Wanda frowns but quickly replaces it with a neutral look. “Um, okay. Give me a few minutes though,” she points to the various papers on her desks. “I still need to do my faxes since it’s only 20 past 5.” 

You watch the way her eyebrows are still creased, and you can tell that she had been looking forward to a night out. 

Wanda walks around her desk and smiles at the two of you, heading off towards the fax machine. 

You open and close your fists nervously, turning around to face Wanda’s fiance. “You know what, you should come with us. You know, since we’re all going out, it would be a good chance to see what people are like outside of the office. Who knows, it could be fun,” you tell him. 

He shakes his head. “No, I think we’re good. We’ve gotta get going anyways.”

You nod, “Sure, no worries.” 

You and him stand there for a bit, and you can’t help but break the awkward silence, “What’s in the, um, what’s in the bag?” you point to the black trash bag he has in his right hand. 

He gives you an annoyed look before turning around, “just tell her I'll talk to her later,” he says to you and walks out the door. 

“Got it, no problem.” 

Your co-workers’ plan to go out for drinks has been canceled, and you sit at your desk trying to finish up your sales work as fast as possible. 

“Hey.” 

You swivel around in your chair to face Wanda who has her arms crossed over her baby blue button-up shirt, looking stressed.

“Hey, are you ok?” you reply. 

“Oh, oh, yeah, I’m fine,” she waves her hand. “Weren’t you going out for a drink with everyone?”

“Oh, no, the plans got canceled.” 

She frowns. “I’m sorry that’s a bummer.” 

You chuckle. “No worries, Wanda, I think I’ll be ok.” 

She lets out a laugh. “Yeah, sorry,” she looks around. “Hey, are you, uh, um-” she points towards the door. 

“Walking out?” you supply with a smile. 

She grins. “Yeah, that.” 

“Yes I am, Maximoff. Wanna go together?” 

She purses her lips and nods. 

You start packing up your stuff while Wanda waits for you, but suddenly you both hear an aggressive honk outside. 

You pause to pack up your stuff. “Oh, shoot, Vision.” 

She looks at you apologetically, “yeah, sorry, Y/N. Have a nice weekend!” she tells you before turning around and running off to meet Vision in his car. 

“You too,” you tell her, leaning back in your chair.  

You sigh as you watch the girl you’ve been in love with for 7 years go home to her stupid fiance.

part 2

[wqnwoos]

seventeen & touch-starved s/o (hhu ver.)

an / entirely written for a friend of mine but here. also whoever is reading this i love u have a good day 💓💕💖💗💞💘💝💖💞💕💗

vocal unit ver.

SEUNGCHEOL.

bear hugs that are somehow simultaneously gentle but also tight

props his chin on your head/shoulder

murmurs in your ear a couple times to make sure you’re alright

“hello?”

“hi,” you say softly into the phone. “um. it’s me.”

you can hear the smile in your boyfriend’s voice when he replies. “hi, baby. everything okay?”

“yeah!” you respond, too quickly with a voice pitched slightly too high. “everything’s fine! just… gonna go to bed now, i think.”

“i’m on my way home right now.” cheol answers the unasked question with ease. “don’t worry, baby, you’ll get your cuddles.”

which is why he’s unsurprised when you’re waiting by the door the moment he arrives home, clad in your pyjamas with a freshly-washed face, flinging your arms around his neck the moment he crosses the threshold.

WONWOO.

will quite literally let u do anything

most patient man fr

his hands, his hair, his thigh — it’s free real estate (but only for you)

it’s nearing 1 in the morning when you start missing wonwoo’s touch.

he’s not far, just on soonyoung’s couch. dinner had turned quickly into drinking games — you’d sat out, instead volunteering to clean the kitchen with vernon and jihoon. which was nice and fun and whatever, but as you sidle up to where wonwoo’s sitting on the sofa, you feel the sudden intense urge to just… cling.

that’s how you end up next to him, with his large hands in yours, you fiddling with his fingers, tracing his palm lines — comparing hand sizes and stroking his knuckles. he doesn’t even flinch, just listening to jeonghan’s story and nodding in all the right places; at some point, he even raises your joined hands to his lips and brushes a kiss over your knuckles, leaving you blushing with the slightest smirk tilting his lips.

MINGYU.

will drop everything to give you the hugs that you need and deserve (and i mean EVERYTHING)

good luck trying to get him to let go

the things i’d do to be hugged by him… those arms probably feel like the safest place in the world

it’s been one of those days — long and tiring and just wrong. which is why when mingyu hugs you in greeting as you step inside, it takes you all of two seconds to burst into tears.

“baby? are you — oh, sweetheart,” he gasps, as you start to shake into his chest. “don’t cry. c’mere. my baby, what is it? what happened?”

you can’t do anything but blubber helplessly, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest, pressing loving kisses everywhere he can reach. his arms stay around you the entire time, as he guides you to the couch, pulls you into his lap and soothes you with gentle touches and quiet murmurs. before he eventually starts cracking jokes — “i’ll buy out your company and never make you work again, if you want.” — and ordering your favourite takeout.

VERNON.

lets you do anything to him (2)

he’s so funny i feel like sometimes he’s just calling you dude but also he might just come out with the smoothest shit right when you don’t expect it

probably fiddles with your hair when he hold you

“vernon?”

“mm?” he glances up from him phone to find you standing in the doorway of the bedroom with round, pleading eyes. he knows immediately that you want something, and also knows immediately that he’ll grant you whatever it is. he always does, when you look at him like that.

you hesitate. “can i get a hug?”

as if he’d ever deny you that. he slides off the bed in one fluid motion, opening his arms and dropping his phone. “of course. come here.”

about a minute later, he attempts a pull away — you whine and tighten your arms, speaking into his shirt with a muffled plea. “just — a little longer? please?”

“as long as you want. i’ve got all day for you, baby.”

[johnbrand]

This or That

“Wait, what did you say this game was called again?” Christopher asked.

“‘This or That’!” Felix replied, obviously excited. All day he had waited to try out this new personality-quiz app, having received a plethora of positive reviews from friends, coworkers, and online. As soon as his shift was up, he rushed back to the small apartment he shared with his loving boyfriend. The smoother, slimmer Christopher was surprised by his partner’s sudden enjoyment and fascination as the app finished its download.

“How does it work?”

“It’s simple,” Felix, more of a twunk vers than an actual top, replied. “Apparently the game offers you different options, red or blue, this or that. You keep filtering down before it lands on a hyper-specific personality type.”

Christopher shrugged, “Sounds simple enough, but why is it so popular?”

“It’s supposed to be like freaky accurate.” Felix opened the app and entered CHRISTOPHER into the flashing box. “I’ve been hearing about it all day, but I wanted to try it with you.”

Christopher blushed at that, watching as the first prompt came in. The app wished to know who was filling out the survey: “This” was the person themselves, “That” was another person. Felix pushed “That”.

“So you’re filling it out for me?” Christopher asked, a little bummed.

“And you’ll do mine,” Felix assured, moving past the next prompt. The first few waves were the simple ones: male or female, old or young, rich or comfortable. Christopher laid back into the couch they were both seated on, grabbing a remote and searching for a “The Real Housewives…” title. On Felix’s end, he eventually landed on a question regarding sexuality.

THIS: Heterosexuality or THAT: Homosexuality

Felix’s finger tapped “That”, but unlike before the next prompt did not appear. For some reason, the "That" option did not respond and proceed forward. He tapped it again, and again, and kept doing so until Christopher noticed.

“I think my screen may have frozen?” Felix explained. To check, he tapped the “This” option. His face skewed slightly as it accepted, moving forward.

“Is it working again, dude?” Chris asked, not looking up from his phone.

“Uh…yeah,” Felix gulped, hoping the error would not severely impact the results. He was already a good amount in, and he did not want to make his roommate wait. Felix reviewed the next prompt.

THIS: Alpha or THAT: Beta

Felix knew the answer, but something told him to go with the other option. He had already messed up, so maybe it would be funny to purposely skew further. Thinking it could be a good laugh, Felix considered manipulating the quiz to manufacture the opposite. Cautiously, he pressed the “This” option, moving on.

“God, these hags are annoying…” Chris mumbled, his voice a little deeper than usual as he switched channels to something more interesting. The loud rowdiness of a football game’s broadcast quickly filled the room, but all Felix could focus on was his phone. To his surprise, after the last tap, the app had begun to filter through its own prompts on its own. Felix’s eyes tried to follow as the screen flashed with new questions and answered them accordingly.

THIS: Masculine-Leaning or THAT: Feminine-Leaning

THIS: Monoracial or THAT: Multiracial

THIS: Strong or THAT: Meek

THIS: Arrogant or THAT: Reserved

THIS: Excitable or THAT: Laid-Back

THIS: Selfless or THAT: Authoritative

THIS: Traditional or THAT: Progressive

Each of the answers clicked by without Felix being able to alter a thing. He could not even exit the app. Desperate, Felix stood up and moved towards the kitchen, hoping to grab his laptop in order to look up some kind of solution. But before he made it, the app suddenly stopped, presenting Felix with the results.

“With 100% accuracy, This or That reports that CRISTOBAL is: AVERAGE STRAIGHT MALE.”

Felix stood stunned, taking a breath and slowly reentering reality. Still on the couch and now manspreading as much as possible, Chris’s focus appeared to be solely on the cheerleaders performing their half-time show. Felix’s own focus soon shifted to be solely on his straight roommate’s cock, the massive schlong becoming chubby thanks to the tit-tastic routine on the television.

“Bro? Come on!” Chris’s rich, masculine voice snapped Felix out of his lustful gaze. “I hate it when you do that gay stuff, it’s annoying.”

“Oh…uh sorry…” Something felt wrong, like Felix was forgetting something.

“You can be a fag or whatever, it doesn’t matter to me,” Chris’s slight cringe said otherwise. “But you can’t just perv on my goods man.”

Felix nodded quickly, blushing furiously.

“By the way, you’ll need to stay in your room again tonight. Finally convinced this chick from stats to come over and ‘study’. She doesn’t know the only thing she’ll be studying is all 8 inches of my man meat.”

His straight roommate smirked cockily at his own joke, adjusting himself proudly. Felix tried his best not to sneak a look and obediently exited to his room. As soon as his door was shut, Felix gave his throbbing cock a tug, hoping Chris’s study partner would be arriving soon.

[whore-era]

1-800-GIRLS

☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: where ellie dials the wrong number and meets you instead. ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, mentions spitplay/breathplay/overstimulation, mentions sexual interactions with men, dirty talking, guided masturbation (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames (babygirl, sweet girl, pretty girl, pup, puppy) let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: i feel like this kinda sucked bc towards the end i kinda rushed it, but i couldn't shake this idea n knew i had to write it. hope u like it bbs<3 also thank u to my bestie @elskittie for helping me figure some things out w this fic ☁︎ word count: 4,463 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 2

phone call style story — reader is in italics, ellie is in bold.

monday, 12:45am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, hot stuff?

uhh.. i just wanted to order a pepperoni pizza..

oh yeah? you want something hot and ready? i have something hot and ready for you.

ummm..

you hear some shuffling in the background, "jess! i think you gave me the wrong number!" the person comes back on the line again.

this isn't papa tony's cheesy pizza place?

....do you want me to roleplay as papa tony's cheesy pizza place?

woah woah woah! roleplay?? who the fuck am i on the phone with?

this is sugar from 1-800-GIRLS.....a sex hotline...for you know? phone sex.

PHONE SEX?? you hear the girl's voice yell in the background, "jesse! you ass! you gave me the number to a phone sex hotline!"

"does she sound hot?"

"well yeah, but—"

hey, you do know it's $1 a minute right? you've been on the line for almost 5 minutes, babe.

HUHH?? hell no..ok thanks sugar bear, or whatever. bye!

the line clicks off, and you shrug. sitting back in your bed to continue watching your favorite netflix show. you feel your work phone vibrate again, the name flashing 'bobby', a regular who frequents the hotline.

sighing and picking up your phone and holding it to your ear, you take a bite from your sandwich as you answer your 15th call this evening, "thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, big boy?"

tuesday, 2:12am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you tonight, cutie?

hey....sugar.. i just- er- wanted to apologize for yesterday. my buddy got your number confused with a pizza place we really wanted to try. didn't mean to sound rude last night.

it's no issue, babe. don't sweat about it.

.......

.......

soooo.... is that the only reason why you called?

ellie didn't want to admit that she was attracted to 'sugar's' voice and that she'd been thinking about it all day during class. but also, ellie was high as a fucking kite, which gave her the courage to even dial the number again anyways.

i— uh— well— how does this whole thing work?

what thing? the hotline?

yeah..

well, you call me, we have phone sex or talk or whatever, and then you hang up. again, it's a dollar a minute.

okay, okay, i get it. so we can just talk? about anything?

yeah, if you want to.

sick.

ellie takes another drag from her joint, before speaking again.

so, do you like doing this? being an operator or whatever?

you let out a laugh, which ellie caught.

specify what you mean by 'like'?

i mean— this is your job. do you enjoy doing it?

ehh...i guess.

c'mon. you can be honest with me.

well, being a sex hotline operator has it's downsides. obviously helping old men jack off gets a little weird sometimes — they have some unusual fetishes.

oh yeah? what's been the weirdest one so far?

uhhh..i have this one regular who has me pretend i'm a ghost. apparently, having sex with ghosts is a real turn on for him.

what the fuck. seriously?

mhm, it's true.

shit, dude....i don't think i could ever do what you do. i dunno how you can do it.

well when you have college tuition and rent to worry about, the downsides don't seem all that bad.

holy shit, you're in college? how old are you anyways?

19.

that's crazy. we're around the same age. i figured you were a bit older.

how 'bout you? how old are you?

21.

not bad not bad. you're way different from the clients i usually get.

yeah? how?

considering my usual clients are 40 to 60 year old men who are married with kids and have secret fetishes, i'd say you're out of my ballpark.

ellie laughs.

how do you know i'm not secretly an old, 57 year old man who's married to my wife janet with three kids? and i have a balloon fetish?

you let out a giggle, adjusting your sleep shorts as you lay back down on your bed, completely invested in your conversation with this girl.

well, how can i appease your balloon fantasies?

i'm just fuckin' with ya. definitely not a man and i have the more normal kinks and fetishes.

is that so? what are the 'normal' kinks and fetishes?

uhhhh....well i'm into bondage, i love tying girls up..i dunno, just seeing them open and vulnerable does something to me. i'm into breathplay, spitplay, overstimulation, and i'm definitely a dominant so—

all you could do was gape as the girl went on her tangent, listing off every kink she could think of. you gulped, suddenly getting a bit nervous from this topic of conversation. you were experienced in the field of phone sex, but actual sex was a totally different world you had no practice in.

so, how 'bout you sugar?

...uhhh....i'm a virgin actually.

the other girl went silent on the other side of the line.

what? but you work as a sex hotline operator.

oh yeah- but— hold on, i'm getting another call. i'll speak to you some other time.

you hung up and threw your work phone across your bed, laying your head down on your pillows. talking to men was so much easier for you, so why do you get all caught up when you talk to a girl?

it was nearly 3:30am, so you decided to turn in and call it a night, mentally preparing yourself for a busy day tomorrow.

wednesday, 11:45am

sitting next to professor adams, patiently waiting for the students to turn in their quizzes, you try to focus on the text of your 'philosophy 101' book.

you were grateful that professor adams gave you the opportunity to be his teacher's assistant for a little bit of extra cash, and you weren't complaining either. the tasks he gave you were easy for a mere $16 an hour. still, it wasn't enough to support all of your bills, so you couldn't drop the hotline gig.

"and time! everyone hand your quizzes in to my TA, regardless if you finished or not," professor announced. all the students shuffled towards the front, handing you their quizzes as you neatly put them in a small pile.

"ah shit— let me put the date on that," a girl, with a very familiar voice spoke. looking up, you're greeted with the most attractive girl you've seen in your life. she had brunette hair and green eyes, with a small scar on her right brow. was this..? no, it couldn't be. that would be insane.

handing you the paper, her hand brushes against yours. you look down at her quiz, seeing in messy, scribbled black ink the name ellie williams.

slinging her backpack on one arm, she heads out the door, "jesse! wait up for me!"

leaving you in a daze, you were completely speechless by the idea that one of your new, favorite clients from your nighttime job is actually a student at your university.

saturday, 1:45am → 1:14:34 ongoing call with 401-890-6798 (cranston, RI)

thanks, sugar. will be calling you again at the same time next week.

no problem, sir. goodnight. dream of me.

sure will, babygirl.

the line clicks as the older man hangs up, and you shudder a bit, feeling uncomfortable after having to roleplay as a ghost, again.

sighing heavily, you place your work phone on your desk and pick up your real phone, opening instagram and scrolling on your feed as you mindlessly snack on some gummy bears.

you double tap to like some of your friends pictures, wishing you were out at a party, drinking some lukewarm beer and dancing with your girls to the latest tiktok hits.

but instead you were cooped up in your apartment, dirty talking old men through their fantasies and bearing witness to their guttural groans and masturbation. it was a shame that friday and saturday nights were your busiest evenings.

taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you ponder for a moment, your finger hovering over the instagram search bar.

fuck it, you thought, typing 'ellie williams' and hitting search.

the username @_elliewilliams pops up, and bingo. it was the same girl from professor adams class.

luckily her profile was public, so you take your time carefully combing through her instagram account, mindful not to accidentally like her posts or anything.

ellie's feed consisted of smoking weed, eating out, and hanging with her friends, jesse and dina. there were only two selfies she had posted — one of her and an older gentleman and one mirror picture of her in a grey hoodie and a light brown canvas jacket that made her look so good.

the ringing from your work phone caught you off guard, causing you to jump in your chair and exit out of the instagram app. you take a look at the number, and speak of the devil, it was ellie herself. she was the only jackson number that ever contacted you.

saturday, 2:10am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)

thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, sugar speaking. what can i do for you, handsome?

hey, sugar. just wanted to apologize for how our last conversation went. i probably pushed a boundary or something— i'm not sure if you're supposed to talk about personal things with customers— so, i'm sorry.

you let out a soft laugh.

why is it when you call me, you're always apologizing?

'cause i'm a fuck up, that's why.

nooo, that's not true. besides, don't worry about it. your question just caught me off guard, you know? never had clients ask things about me before i guess.

ahh, gotcha. so...were you busy before i called?

you shake your head, even though she was on the phone and couldn't see you.

uh, not really. my line doesn't usually get busy until...12 midnight ish.. it slows down by like 2 am though. how about you? what are you up to this friday night?

i just got back home from a party. business was slow and it was getting boring, so i dipped.

business? what business?

ah— well—

ellie silently cursed to herself, not wanting to scare you away with her current occupation.

if i tell you what i do, promise you won't get freaked out or anything?

you're talking to a phone sex hotline operator. don't worry.

you can hear her laugh from the other end.

well, fuck it, cat's out of the bag. i deal weed on campus and shit.

ahhh. i like that. is that how you can afford the minutes you spend calling me?

yup. i can stay on the phone for hours if we wanted.

maybe you'll be my only customer.

i wouldn't complain.

speaking of customers, do you want me to save your number under a specific name or nickname or anything? since i'm assuming you're gonna be a regular?

trying to confirm if it was indeed ellie you were speaking with, you sat on the edge of your chair, anxiety building in your belly.

what nicknames do your clients usually pick?

uhhh. master, sir, king, mister, alpha— umm and daddy.

something stirred inside ellie hearing that last nickname roll off your tongue.

you could just put me down as ellie.

got it.

what do i call you? do i just keep calling you sugar?

well, you're a customer. you can call me anything you like, but, for formalities and privacy, i can only tell you my hotline nickname — sugar.

okay, okay, that makes sense. you're not really allowed to have any personal or close relationships with clients, huh?

no, not really. mostly for safety purposes.

ellie was a little disappointed to know that she wouldn't be able to get to know the girl she was talking to beyond calling on the phone. she already felt herself getting attached. your voice was alluring and enticing, and she couldn't help but want to hear it more, and possibly put a name and face to who it belonged to.

but, i could bend the rules a little if i really wanted to.

yeah? let's see about that.

saturday, 4:45 am → 2:43:03 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

oh my god! did you and your ex get caught??

you were enamored with ellie. the way she could keep a conversation going and the stories she told — you didn't wanna hang up.

no, no, no, luckily we hid behind a dumpsters before the cops could catch us. it's hilarious thinking about it now, but we were dumbass 18-year-olds back then.

you both were in fits of laughter, your belly aching and tears watering in the corners of your eye.

as you calmed down, you couldn't stop your mouth from asking a question that's been racking on your mind.

so, how long were you and your ex together?

uhhhh, about 2 years.

ohhh okay........are you seeing anyone right now?

ellie lets out a laugh, and you can hear her smile, even through the phone.

why? who's asking?

well, i was just— uhh—

i'm just fuckin' with you. nah, i'm not seein' anyone right now. single af.

okay, okay. good to know.

how 'bout you?

nope. i'm single too.

seriously?? how?

i dunno. just never found the right person i guess. also, working for this hotline has made me lose hope for relationships in general, some of these dudes call me and say all this stuff — while having a whole wife and family at home.

i think you're looking in the wrong place then. try talking to people at school or going out to parties—

can't. if i'm not doing homework or studying, i'm working and doing this. i gotta make a living somehow.

ellie couldn't help but feel bad, knowing if she could, she'd support you full time and take that weight off your shoulders.

hmm, maybe you'll meet someone who could support you and take care of your bills and stuff.

oh? where would i find that? sounds too good to be true.

maybe they're closer to you than you think.

your breath hitched in your throat, unsure of what to say next.

i— uh— i have to go. it's 5am.

oh— uh— yeah. of course. goodnight, sugar.

goodnight, ellie.

sunday, 11:37pm → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)

hey.

hey. where's your usual greeting?

you're not a usual customer, so i think we're past that now, ellie.

ellie's heart thumped in her chest hearing you say her name.

good. anyways, what are you up to tonight?

just studying for a quiz tomorrow morning. how about you?

smoking, just finished some homework.

what class was it for?

uhhh, just this calculus class.

you clamped your mouth shut, suppressing a gasp. it was for professor adams class.

....uhhh, i could never get calculus. it's so hard.

yeah? maybe one night i can tutor you.

i'd be a terrible student.

i think you'd be the perfect student. i can teach you, i got you.

you couldn't help but think there was another meaning behind her words, but you didn't want to jump to any conclusions. it would be embarrassing if you got her message all wrong.

what's your quiz on anyways?

energy transfer between cells, it's for biology.

i know a thing or two about that. here— why don't we do this, just explain to me what you know and we'll go from there.

okay, i can do that.

you and ellie spent the next two and a half hours talking about cell function and energy transfer and everything else in between, with her correcting you and adding in important things you missed.

alright, sugar, i think you're ready for this quiz tomorrow.

you think so?

i know so. you're such a smart girl.

there she goes again, praising you.

uh, th-thanks.

don't worry, okay? i know you'll do great.

a smile curls on your lips, flustered from all her support.

you should get some sleep, so you can be focused and ready for tomorrow.

m'kay. thank you, ellie, for all your help.

of course. always. goodnight, sugar.

goodnight, ellie.

monday, 5:32pm → 45:21 ongoing call with mister j (corpus christi, TX)

yeah, babe? you want me to fuck your tight ass?

mhm, yes mister.

c'mon. beg, sugar.

please. fuck my tight hole, mister j.

ah, hell.

you can hear his belt buckle clanging, and the soft buzz of a zipper.

what's wrong with 'ya tonight, sugar? you're bein' a real buzzkill, 'ya know that? fuckin' turnin' me off and makin' me soft.

i-i'm sorry, mister j. please, jus—

yea, yea, save it. we'll jus' try 'gain tomorrow.

the line clicks on the other end. tossing your work phone on your desk, you fall back on your bed and stuff your face in your pillow. weeping into the plush material, you let yourself fall apart and break down.

but your sobbing session is cut short as you can hear the familiar ring of your work phone.

wiping your tears, you walk over to your desk and answer.

monday, 5:45pm → 00:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

thanks for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's suga-

woah, woah, woah are you crying?

e-ellie?

yeah, baby, it's me. sounds like you're crying. what's going on? talk to me.

today was just a really, really bad day and then i opened my hotline a little early and one of my first clients just lashed out on me because i wasn't responding the way he wanted me to and—

you sniffle.

— and i'm just really stressed out by everything going on in my life right now.

i'm sorry. i wish there was something i could do— someway i could comfort you or take the weight off.

i-it's fine, ellie. talking to you is making it a little better.

ellie was silent for a moment, thinking carefully and planning her next moves accordingly.

do you trust me?

....y-yea, of c-course. why?

i'm gonna help you ease the tension. okay?

okay.

first of all, where are you?

i-in my room, sitting at my desk.

okay. go lay down on your bed.

with your phone pressed to your ear, you pick up your legs and stride over to your bed, laying down on the fluffy, material of your blanket.

okay, i'm on my bed.

good. what are you wearing?

foreseeing the direction this phone call was heading in, apprehension builds in your stomach.

ellie, you really don't have to-

hey, i want to help you. if that's okay with you. if not, we could talk about something instead.

biting your lip, you fold.

i-i'm okay with it, but i-i've never— played with myself with a customer before. i don't really do anything with myself even when i'm not working anyways.

that's okay. don't think of me as a customer, think of me as a...teacher. i got you, remember?

okay.

good girl. now, what are you wearing?

uh.. a tank top and shorts.

cute. take them off.

gulping, you follow her orders, shimmying out of your top and shorts.

done?

mhm.

good. so obedient.

i want you to rub your boobs for me. rub your nipples, pull on them, just feel the skin under your hand for me, baby.

rubbing the soft skin along your breast, and tugging on your hardened nipples, you bite your lip, savoring the way your body feels under your touch.

how does it feel?

feels good.

bet it does.

ellie couldn't stop her mind from imagining you, on your bed, perfectly naked. and how she'd give everything up, just to sneak a peek.

now, i want you to just rub your hands against the sensitive parts of your body. be slow and gentle, we're not rushing anything.

as your hands drift from your neck, down to the hills of your breasts, and to the edge of your panties, ellie speaks through the line again.

doesn't it feel nice, baby?

mhm.

wish i could be there, to watch you, touching your pussy.

you instinctively clamp your thighs, feeling heat rush to your core.

alright, take your panties off. slowly.

you slowly peel the piece of material off, looking at the small, wet spot that formulated on your underwear.

okay, they're off.

such a good girl, following my every command.

you gulp, her nickname for you sending shivers up your spine.

slowly feel the skin on your legs. stroke your inner thighs, tease yourself a little.

hanging off on her every word, you let out a shaky breath, the heat in your cunt growing only bigger and bigger.

god, i wish i can be there to see this right now. bet you look so good, thighs spread apart, pussy all wet— all because of me.

i- i'm aching. i need more, ellie.

i know, baby, i know. i wish i can help you more. if it were up to me, i'd have you bent over your desk, taking you from the back. fuck.

your mind drifts to that image, of her fucking you, taking you as hers. a stream of your slick begins to leak out from your pussy. god, you wanted her so bad.

slide a finger between your pussy, baby. let me hear how wet you are.

spreading your thighs apart, the tip of your fingers slips in between the folds of your pussy lips, the slick sound of your wetness echoing throughout the room. loud enough for ellie to hear.

fuuuuuck.

i-

you tried to speak, but it comes out sounding like a pathetic whimper. ellie's brain was going insane, she couldn't believe where she had you, writhing from her mere words.

go ahead, pretty girl. rub slow circles on your clit.

the pads of your pointer and middle finger gently rub steady, figure 8's against your hardened nub. closing your eyes, you imagined ellie, and how it was her hand instead of yours. the thought had you panting, faint breaths releasing from your parted lips.

your pussy sounds so wet, holy shit. you sound so fucking good for me. so fucking perfect.

as your fingers continue massaging on your sopping, wet clit, a pool of wetness gathers right below your ass.

how does it feel, baby?

f-feels amazing, ellie.

you let out a low whimper.

i wish you were here.

me too, pup. me too.

you can hear her heavy breaths from the other end of the phone.

i wish i could be there, kissing your neck. trailing my lips down to suck on your nipples. fuuck, wanna taste every inch of your skin. i wanna feel your pussy tighten around my fingers.

you let out another pitiful moan, only to hear ellie curse under her breath again.

rub your pussy faster for me, angel. imagine it's me, pumping my fingers in and out. would daddy's pretty girl like that?

you couldn't respond. all you could let out was these weak whines, yearning for ellie and her touch. you added a third finger, building onto the pressure and picking up the speed.

your moans sound so pretty. wonder how'd they sound when you're taking my strap. gonna have you cry out my name, yeah? isn't that right?

mhm, yes, daddy.

good. that's what daddy likes to hear, such a polite girl.

with your eyes rolling back, you could feel your orgasm building.

i-i'm gonna— ellie, i—

you gonna cum for me, puppy? huh? c'mon, rub faster, baby. i know you have a little bit more left in you.

your fingers speed up, the sound of your wetness gushing out reverberated in ellie's ear.

oh my god, daddy can i? please? can i—

arching your back, you knew you were close. the feeling was getting to be too much and you were about to fall over the edge.

look at my baby, so respectful and asking permission. come on, pretty puppy. cum for daddy. let daddy hear how good she made you feel.

that was it. letting out a penetrating moan, you rode your orgasm out and finished all over your fingers, making a mess. you were heaving, chest rapidly rising and falling.

god, i made a mess.

oh, yeah? do one more thing for me. suck your fingers clean. puppies clean up their messes.

monday, 8:57pm → 3:01:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)

after your little self-care session with ellie, she took it upon herself to get your mind off of today's events, filling your conversation with stories and interesting topics.

oh, forgot to ask, what'd you end up getting on that biology quiz?

ughhh, i got a 65 out of 100. one of the reasons why i was so upset today.

seriously? how?

i don't know! i asked professor gonzalez and she told me that i was focusing on the wrong thi-

wait, did you just say professor gonzalez? holy shit, you're taking biology 201 with professor g? do you fucking go to school at university of wyoming? in jackson?

oh shit, you didn't mean for that to slip out.

i— uh— i have to go—

wait! sugar! please. hear me out.

you stay silent, waiting for what she had to say.

if we really do go to the same campus, please, let's meet up. i really want to see you.

.....why?

i just— i love talking to you. spending hours with you on the phone is what i look forward to when i get home. besides, i really want to take you out, on a date.

you bit your lip, unsure of what to say.

listen, if you want to see me too, meet me at the library in building B, by the comic book section. okay? tomorrow at 1pm.

....

i really hope you come.

the line clicks off, and you spend the rest of the night restless, tossing and turning, debating whether or not to see her tomorrow.

tuesday, 2:50pm

ellie eagerly checked her phone again, bouncing her knee in distress. her mind was running rampant — fuck, she's not gonna come. maybe jesse was right. maybe i was wasting my time.

looking up for the 80th time, she scans the comic book section, seeing no one else but some dude with his face buried in a wonder woman comic.

as ellie gets up from her chair, she turns her head, and she freezes.

there you were, looking like an angel who entered from the garden of eden. ellie's heart sped up, seeing her girl standing before her. you were everything she could've imagined and better.

walking slowly towards the brunette, you brush a piece of hair from your face, and smile meekly.

"hi ellie, it's me."

pls let me know how this fic was, i tried out a new writing style & read pt 2 here <3

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Ready to roll?

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 9

Prompt: No Upside Down AU

Rated: T

CW: one mention of masturbation bc Eddie is a horny little shit

Tags: Future fic; Flirting; Record label owner!Eddie; Waiter!Steve; Steve in rollerblades

Notes: Another collab with the amazingly talented and creative @house-of-the-moving-image - check out their art!

"What?" Eddie says eloquently, tearing his eyes from the laminated menu. 

The waiter is hovering next to his booth, pen tapping against the notepad in his hand. He looks annoyed. Probably pissed at Eddie for interrupting his quiet night shift. Well, tough luck, pretty boy. 

"I said …" the waiter pauses, heaves a brief but heartfelt sigh. "Are you ready to roll?" 

Eddie blinks. 

"Listen, dude!" The waiter says flatly, but there's a blush blossoming on his neck. "I'd ask if I may take your order, but I'm, like, contractually obfuscated to say … this instead. Goes with the theme, y’know?" 

He gestures at the entirety of himself. The cheerfully colored shirt and tiny shorts. The little apron around his waist. The knee-high socks disappearing into a pair of chunky, red-and-white rollerblades, and … oh, right. 

"Well?" 

Eddie snaps his eyes back up and shit, for how long has he been staring at those legs like a creep?

The waiter is scowling at him. He really is pretty. Exactly Eddie’s type. Gold-flecked eyes, stupidly voluminous hair, pink lips twisted into a bitchy little scowl. Eddie imagines pushing him up against the wall on those stupid wheels of his, sucking and biting that scowl right off. 

"Hm," he makes instead. "The guys at the label said I'd enjoy the cake, but I'm starting to think they weren't talking about the menu." 

The scowl deepens. 

"Cheeseburger and fries," Eddie says. "And a strawberry milkshake." 

One elegant eyebrow arches. 

"... Please?" 

Waiter boy smirks at him, a brief flash of perfectly white teeth. Eddie wants to lick them. 

"Coming right up." He jots the order down, shoves pen and notepad into his apron pocket. As he does, Eddie catches a glimpse of the name tag attached to his uniform shirt. (Which has nothing to do with him ogling the way the fabric stretches over that toned chest, because he wasn't doing that, thank you.)

It says "Hi, I'm Steve. :-)"

Wait, what? 

The whirr of rollerblades on the floor tiles jerks him out of his stupor. He's glad he didn't take off his sunglasses, because holy fuck, he must be gawking like an idiot right now. 

Because he knows a guy named Steve. Or knew. 

A guy named Steve with perfect, caramel hair, tan skin littered in moles and an irritatingly pretty, aloof smile. Not that Eddie was ever at the receiving end of that smile. The closest Eddie ever got to him was back in eighty-six, when he was dealing drugs out of his van. In the driveway of that palace in Loch Nora, while the King and his court partied inside. 

Eddie watches how waiter boy comes gliding out of the kitchen, wipes down tables and refills napkin holders. 

It can't be. 

Steve Harrington is back in the hellhole that is Hawkins, Indiana - or maybe at some college halfway across the country, preparing to take over daddy's business. He's most certainly not wearing rollerblades and a pair of stupidly short shorts, waiting tables in a cheap twenty-four hour diner in Seattle. 

Then again, back in eighty-six, who would've thought that Eddie Munson would be owning his own record label one day? 

When waiter boy arrives with his order and leans in to put it down on the table, Eddie peers over his sunglasses to cast an inconspicuous look at his profile. 

There's a pair of moles on his neck, near identical in size, spaced apart like a perfect little vampire bite. 

Well, slap his ass and call him Sally. 

Eddie knows these moles, has spent entire nights jerking off to the thought of sinking his teeth into them. 

"Staring costs extra," Steve mutters at the milkshake. 

Before Eddie can say anything, the phone on the counter rings and Steve rolls over to answer it. Eddie chews on his too-salty fries and can't help the grin that tugs at his lips as he watches the boy twirl the cord around his fingers while taking the order. 

The night just officially got interesting.

Steve looks over, catches him staring and gives him the flattest, most unimpressed look Eddie has ever seen on a person who just realized they were being checked out. The blush has reached his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Eddie winks and Steve rolls his eyes before he turns his back on him. Eddie doesn’t complain. That ass does look fantastic in the shorts.

He takes his time with the meal. The burger is nothing to write home about, but the view more than makes up for it.

When he is done, he saunters over to the counter, pulling out his wallet. Steve is busy counting mayonnaise packages and muttering under his breath. He blinks in confusion when Eddie slaps down a fifty, starts digging for change in his apron. 

"Nah," Eddie says. "Just keep it." 

Steve frowns at him. "That's way too much." 

"Don't sell yourself short. I thought staring was extra?"

Steve opens his mouth. Hesitates. Closes it. Pockets the money. 

"Thanks," he murmurs, eyes trained at some point behind Eddie's shoulder. "Roll by again."

Eddie just barely manages to turn the incoming snort into a grin.  

"Sure will,” he mutters, leaning across the counter and into the boy’s space. “Maybe I'll try that cake next time." 

"Oh, please," Steve huffs. "As if you could afford me, Munson." 

Eddie feels his jaw drop. "Wait, you knew who-" 

The doorbell chimes. 

"Hi there!" Steve chirps at the guy in the door. "You called, right? I'll check if your order is ready." 

And then he's gone and Eddie is staring at the still swinging kitchen door like an idiot. 

It isn't until he's back out in the dark street that his confusion morphs into something else. His majesty wants to play coy? Well, Eddie can indulge him, can't he? 

He makes his way home with a new spring in his step. Looks like he's found his new favorite dinner spot.

Part 2

All my holiday drabbles

[laurfilijames]

Breathe

Part 11

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x female reader

Words: 6.4K

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption and smoking. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Will does something he never thought he would again, and after someone from his recent past seeks him out, things fall into place and call for celebration.

A/N: This is the second to last chapter and I'm feeling so bittersweet about it!! I can't believe how this world has unfolded and all the enthusiasm it's received, so a big thank you to everyone who has stuck with it and shared in my love for it! 💗 @whatever-lmaoo I hope you enjoy your scene! 🌌

Series Masterlist

The modest diamond was brighter than anything considering its size compared to some of the others, shining with impossible brilliance on its thin, yellow gold band as Will held the dainty ring between his fingers.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” he nodded, looking up at the jeweler who had been showing him engagement rings for the past hour.

It was the first one Will noticed when he started eyeing the vast and overwhelming array of rings, able to picture it clearly on your hand, but was persuaded by the salesman to continue exploring other options and not settle for the one that caught his attention first despite knowing in his heart that it was perfect. The rest of them were too large or flashy, some of the settings too elaborate and downright outrageous in cost, and Will knew something humble and simple would be the perfect token to help symbolize your love even though both of you felt no need to conform to any of the traditional ways that people were convinced validated a relationship.

“It’s a lovely choice, Sir,” he confirmed. “She’ll love it.”

Will blew out a breath to try to calm himself, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement, hardly able to believe he was doing something he never thought he would do again in his life.

He had just finished paying for half of it and set up the payments for the rest when his phone buzzed in his pocket, and answered it while waiting for the jeweler to return with the ring secured in its little box.

“Hey, Ben.”

“Where are you, man? You’re late. You’re never late,” Benny quizzed from the other end of the phone.

“Yeah, I know, sorry. Something took a little longer than I thought, I’ll be right over.”

“What the hell are you doing that’s more important than helping me train?”

Will laughed. “You’ll see, just get started without me, I’ll be there in ten.”

He hung up and thanked the jeweler for his help when he returned with the ring that Will couldn’t wait to put on your finger, making his way out of the store and over to the gym with a smile that couldn’t be wiped from his face.

“That was longer than ten minutes!” Benny called from the cage, his gloved hands raising up as he spoke.

“Dude, I’m sorry!” Will laughed, unable to shake this good mood despite his brother being annoyed by his tardiness.

“Why are you so happy? What were you doing? Actually, do I want to know that?”

Will chuckled again as he stepped into the cage, fishing the tiny box out of the pocket of his jeans.

“No, I will not marry you,” Benny joked as Will opened the box and presented it to him, both brothers erupting with laughter before embracing each other in a hug.

“That’s awesome, man, I’m really happy for you,” the younger Miller spoke, patting Will on the back while still in his grasp with his padded fists.

“Thanks, bro,” Will smiled sheepishly, looking at the ring one more time before closing the box and stowing it back safely in his pocket.

“Do you know when you’re gonna do it?”

Will sighed and shook his head, his eyebrows raised. “Whenever it feels right, I guess. I don’t really have a plan,” he admitted.

“You always have a plan.”

“I did until her,” he smiled, thinking of how much his life and the ways he went about things had changed since he met you. You had disrupted his life in the best way, taking the strict order of how he lived and the walls he built up for protection and dismantled it all, your love bringing him a freedom that wasn’t chaotic or terrifying. The way you turned his world upside down had actually put it the right way up, making him realize that all the things he thought he was doing right were actually wrong, your presence in his life healing wounds he never thought could be mended.

“Well however you do it, she’s gonna say yes and it’ll be perfect for you both,” Benny assured him. “It definitely won’t be like the first time!”

“Fuck no,” Will agreed, wishing he could erase his previous engagement to his ex, having been given ultimatums if he didn’t propose, the cost of the hideous ring she wanted so badly putting him in more debt than he could handle.

“Okay, can I punch you now?” Benny asked, bringing Will out of his past with a laugh, ducking as he threw a loose hit at his face.

The sun was beaming down hard on the back of Will’s neck as he walked through the front yard back and forth in neat rows, the loud buzz of the lawnmower drowned out by the music playing in his headphones.

With the weather being so nice and it being a Sunday, tons of people were out on the street; families walking with their young kids and dogs to the park, and a few older couples passing by the house hand in hand who gave Will a nod and smile as they strolled.

He was attentive to everything, already knowing what cars each neighbour drove and fairly in-tune with the consistency in their schedules, so when an unfamiliar car pulled up and parked in front of the house, it made Will pause and watch to see who it was.

An average looking woman stepped out, glancing at the house number before continuing to walk up the sidewalk to the driveway, and Will plucked his headphones out of his ears and shut off the lawnmower as he stared at her curiously.

She looked almost nervous, and in her hands she held a round dish, but when she gave him a sweet smile, Will couldn’t help but return it.

“Can I help you?” he asked, squinting in the sunlight.

“I sure hope so!” she exclaimed, her voice suiting her demeanour.

She stopped when she was a few steps away from Will, her arms moving as she spoke that told Will her hands would be flying about if she didn’t have something in them.

“I don’t mean to bother you, but your brother told me I would find you here.”

Will tilted his head slightly as he listened, leaning more onto the handle of the mower that he still held onto with one hand.

“At least I’m hoping you’re his brother!” she giggled, but Will remained quiet so she could continue explaining who she was and what she wanted. “You’re Will Miller?”

He nodded. “That’s me.”

“You’re a hard man to track down!” she blurted, her relief clear in her words.

Will smiled but still looked at her with confusion, prompting her to scold herself.

“Oh, listen to me! You poor man standing here as I’m going on and on and I haven’t even told you who I am!” She cradled the dish in one arm and extended her right hand out to him. “My name is Patsy, and my husband is whose life you saved last week.”

Will was taken aback as he took her hand and shook it, being surprised at her introduction an understatement.

“Wow, hi. It’s nice to meet you, Patsy,” he greeted.

“I really hope I’m not overstepping, but I just wanted to thank you. I went to the store and spoke with the manager who told me who you were…”

When she trailed off, Will knew why, nodding as he understood that the manager had explained to her both incidents that made Will's name a memorable one at Publix.

“So I looked you up but the last address listed was old and other people live there now…”

Will nodded again, knowing it was the house he had lived in with his ex, a sigh blowing past his lips.

“But then I saw there was another Miller listed and I got a hold of him, and oh your brother is just such a dear and he gave me this address. He told me you wouldn’t mind me stopping by and–”

“I don’t mind at all, Patsy, this is nice,” Will assured her, seeing her eyes light up. “How’s your husband doing?”

“Ron,” she started, and Will was happy to finally learn his name. “He’s recovering well and back home already.”

“That’s great!”

“It was our anniversary that day. Thirty-nine years now!” she explained, her eyes appearing wet. “He went to pick up a few things to make us a special dinner for it…to think he almost didn’t come back home…” Patsy said quietly, blinking quickly. “But thanks to you, we’ll hopefully be on our way to forty and more!”

“Wow, congratulations!” Will offered, genuinely, watching her wipe a stray tear from her cheek.

“Thank you, dear. We are both so grateful to you and we just don’t know how to thank you for what you did.”

Will shook his head. “It’s what anyone would’ve done. I’m just glad he’s okay.”

“Well, I’ve made you this pie. I don’t even know if you like pie…” she muttered under her breath, meeting his eyes again as she extended her arms to hold the dessert out for him. “It’s apple. Just give it a warm in the oven and it’s all set for you to enjoy.”

“Thank you,” Will beamed. “I’ve never been able to say no to pie and apple is my favourite.” He patted his stomach to assure her he loved to eat and she laughed, her kindness and warmth contagious.

“Is there someone you can share it with?” she asked, her question non-accusing or prying.

“Yeah, there is,” he confirmed, happily, any thought that went to you bringing out a bigger smile on his face.

“Oh, good. A sweet soul like yours deserves to be shared. Plus, you’re too damn handsome not to have someone!” She giggled at her own admission and clapped her hand on his forearm, patting it a couple of times before stepping away in the direction of her car.

“Thank you again, Will. You’re a good man.”

Will smirked and glanced at his shoes before meeting her eyes again, giving her one last smile and wave goodbye before turning to bring the pie inside the house.

Will still didn’t have a plan as to when he was going to pop the question, but it was even more on his mind now after his conversation with Patsy, realizing more than ever how precious life and love were, and he wanted to marry you on the spot if it was possible.

The rest of your Sunday had been blissful; cooking dinner together that was followed by two huge slices of the best apple pie both of you had ever tasted, and now your night was wrapping up in the best way you knew how with your naked bodies entangled after falling into bed straight from the shower.

Will hummed as he trailed his face up the side of your waist, his nose dragging along your soft skin that was still dotted with drops of water, the scent of your soap and the dampness clinging to you intoxicating him.

You moved to lay on your back, sighing out a pleasured noise as he continued to explore your bare torso with his lips, ghosting them over your stomach and hips, your hands smoothing over his upper back and through his wet hair.

He hummed again against your skin, the vibrations off his lips rumbling through so that it almost tickled, making you squirm beneath him.

With a slight chuckle, he grabbed your waist and pulled you with him as he rolled onto his back, guiding you to mount him where you looked down at him with a sweet smile, your hands splaying out on his chest.

“I wanna see you, sweetheart,” he purred, his eyes full of love and desire in the faint light from the lamp on your nightstand.

Your smile grew, the warmth from his adoration spreading through you like it was transferring from your fingertips that were connected to his chest and into every vein until it had you buzzing, his love for you always making you beam.

Water from your hair dripped down your shoulders and chest, the trails of it enhancing the curves of your breasts and valleys along your collarbones, catching Will’s eye as he watched you in awe.

You smoothed your hands from his pecs over to his arms, lacing your fingers with his as you leaned down to kiss him, your hands held securely together to support your forward motion, the water that fell from your saturated hair dropping onto his body where it peppered his clean, porcelain skin.

You breathed him in, your tongues beginning to tangle together as you settled on his groin, teasing yourself on his rigid cock that rested against your core.

A sharp inhale filled your lungs when his tip breached your entrance, filling just an inch of you with his leaking head yet still stretching your tight hole.

You rolled your hips forward, bringing him back out of you, only to have him angle his own when you seated yourself back on him again, pressing inside you a little deeper this time.

When you lifted off of him again, Will abandoned his connection with your hands and landed them on your upper thighs just below your hips, forcing you down on his length as he fully penetrated you with a growl that resounded in your mouth.

Your hands fell onto his head, raking through his hair as you deepened your kiss, grinding on his cock that slid in and out of you with your languid rhythm.

Will removed one of his hands off your waist and placed it on your cheek, gripping the side of your face with a demand that made your head spin as his need poured through his mouth, his kiss filling you with an equal want for more.

You broke away from his lips, your desire to ride him overpowering that to keep kissing him, moving your body against his faster, his flaxen hairs creating a mind-numbing friction on your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged, his body tensing under yours as he took pleasure from your own. “Use me however you need.”

The roughness of his voice almost made you shiver, his offer to take whatever you needed from him to feel as good as possible making a cool heat shoot down your spine, and you sat up straighter, driving down hard against him while providing him a view of your body, his hands cupping your tits and plucking at your peaked nipples.

“Fuck me, you’re gorgeous,” he praised, his words making you tip your head back and increase your pace, hearing him grunt and moan with how good you were making him feel turning you on even more.

“Mmm, Will, I’m close,” you warned, your breathing ragged and your caution a whine.

“Come on, I want to feel you come on me.”

Your eyes were closed tightly as you focused on chasing down your high, and Will found it impossible for you to look more stunning now than you always did, your parted lips spilling moans while your body rocked and bounced on his.

“I want you– fuck! – I want you to cum in me, Will!”

“Yeah? I’m right there too, baby,” he growled, bucking up into you to prove it as he gave up on trying to hold back.

“God, I love you,” he called, completely enamoured by you.

“I love you too, Will,” you answered, your nails digging into his chest, feeling yourself start to come apart on his thick cock.

Will felt overcome by every emotion, and the thought of putting a ring on your finger sent him through the roof, pulsing hot ropes into you the moment he felt you start to clench around him.

He kept his eyes open to see you experience your orgasm despite wanting to close his own from how amazing it all felt, desperate to watch you fall into bliss and never able to get over the fact that he was the one buried inside you while you did.

Your fingertips gripped in the flesh on his heaving chest as you settled from your high, your eyes opening to meet with his, but you continued to rock your hips against his groin as you selfishly indulged in his warm, thick cum lubricating your tingling walls, and suddenly you were thrown into another climax.

Will held onto your waist tightly, forcing you to stay on his cock and take what you needed from him despite him having finished already, watching you with complete captivation as you quaked and jolted uncontrollably on top of him.

“Good girl,” he grunted, panting out his breath as he tried to hang on for you.

Your broken wails filled the air, combining with the addicting sound of the mix of wet between your legs, and fully exhausted from pleasure, you collapsed forward onto him in a heap, your breath hot on the sweaty skin on his neck.

Will stroked your hair and back, soothing you as you came back to reality while he remained on cloud nine, his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

You whined against his neck as he slipped out of you, and he continued to caress you and keep you close to him, pressing a kiss on your temple.

“Hey, you’re alright, sweetheart. You did so well.”

His hand cradled the side of your face when you uprighted yourself, stroking his thumb on your dewy cheek, his smile soft as he took in your almost delirious look.

“Why don’t you go get yourself cleaned up?” he offered, reluctantly letting you go as you nodded in agreement and removed yourself from straddling his lap.

Will laid there for a minute, watching you retreat into the ensuite bathroom before quietly moving off the bed to reach for his jeans, checking over his shoulder to be sure you hadn’t come back in yet as he grabbed the small box from his pocket and plucked out the dainty ring.

He closed it in his hand as he settled back into the sheets, his breath shaky as he stared up at the ceiling and tried his best not to smile too big.

You came back in and climbed into the bed with a bright smile that made his heart scream in his chest and met it with the broadest one of his own, relieved he didn’t have to try to disguise it now.

“Hmm, that was incredible, baby,” you praised, your words coming off your tongue like you were still reliving every moment of it, hovering over him before leaning down to kiss his lips.

He moaned into your mouth, his hand that wasn’t secured around the secret token he held rubbing up along your back, pulling you closer to him as he deepened your kiss and felt you melt into him.

You let your body lay completely on his, your tongues tangling together as if you were making up for the lack of kisses when you had rode him, and the small yelp you gave when he flipped you over onto your back and covered you with his weight was absorbed into his mouth that stayed locked on yours.

A deep breath filled his lungs and transferred into yours, inhaling your scent and everything about you as he nudged your left arm that was wrapped around his neck with his, gently forcing it onto the mattress where he trailed the back of his closed fist up the inside of your arm until he reached your palm.

Your fingers were extended and relaxed, toying with the sheets as your focus remained on your kiss, and carefully, Will adjusted his fingers until he had a grip on the band and slowly slipped it onto your ring finger.

He could feel your features move against his face as you tried to work out what was happening, and finally letting your lips part from each other, Will looked down at you to watch your reaction as you moved your hand that was still held in his into your view.

A shuddered breath escaped your parted lips and your eyes glistened with tears, and Will’s heart felt like it was either going to stop or jump right out of his chest when you looked from the sparkling ring on your trembling hand over to him, and somehow, he found his words.

“I want you to be my wife,” he spoke carefully and purposefully, his eyes locked on yours.

Your expression turned serious, and Will could see your pulse hammering violently in the side of your neck and swore he could hear your heart thumping like mad.

“You do?” you breathed, your fingers dancing with his, accentuating the feeling of the foreign piece encircling your skin.

“I do.”

Those two words made the corner of his mouth turn up in an astonished smile as the realization of actually saying it to each other one day soon hit him; what had seemed unimaginable that you could be his forever suddenly plausible and more real than anything.

In his next breath, he steadied his emotions, readying himself to legitimize the moment by officially asking the question he had rehearsed in his head over and over, his fingers closing between yours where he held your hand tightly.

“Will you marry me?”

You nodded quickly, tears springing from your eyes furiously as a sob that mixed with a laugh blew past your lips.

“Yes, Will!”

He squeezed your hand three times and crashed against your lips as you returned the silent gesture, feeling the most incredible sense of relief and peace flowing through him, the love he had for you incomparable to anything else that existed and something he would spend the rest of his life proving to you.

Within two days you and Will had decided exactly what you wanted for your wedding day, and without wasting any more time in knowing that you wanted to be made husband and wife as soon as you could, you were hosting an engagement party in your backyard to celebrate with friends and family before the set day that was now less than a week away.

“I still can’t believe I’m not invited,” Benny scoffed, his blatant disapproval for your decision to elope making Will laugh and shake his head.

“Sorry, man. It’s not like you’re the only one who won’t be there. We just want something quiet,” Will explained for the third time to his brother.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he said with attitude before taking a sip of his beer.

“At least we’re doing this,” Will offered, motioning to the party happening around them.

“Yeah, I’m sincerely shocked you didn’t just up and leave without a word to anyone,” he said pointedly. “Selfish prick,” he added under his breath, earning him a hard shove on the shoulder.

“Fuck off, man,” Will laughed. “Maybe you’ll understand it one day.” He motioned over to where Jess was standing talking to you and the other girls, hoping that Benny had found his forever just like he had.

“No way. We will have everyone we love there. Hundreds of people. Maybe even our kids!”

Will raised his brows in surprise. “Is that so?”

“Damn right,” Benny confirmed, staring at Jess with a look in his eyes that explained everything anyone would ever need to know about their blooming relationship. “I want her to have my babies right away.”

“Well I’m looking forward to being an uncle very much,” Will grinned, draping his arm over Benny’s shoulder to give it a squeeze.

“Well, boys, it wouldn’t be a proper celebration without some cigars, now would it?” Santiago announced after walking over to them, lifting the lid open on a box that contained what Will knew had to be some pricey cigars.

“Frank! Tom, get over here!” he called, handing each of his Delta Force brothers one.

“We gotta get a picture of this!” Tom exclaimed in a loud muffle as he already had his stuck between his teeth, wrapping his arms around both Millers that he wedged himself between.

Molly was right there and ready with her phone to snap a photo, the five of them standing with their arms around each other with their lit cigars hanging from their mouths, the biggest smiles on their faces.

“Say cheese!”

The night had been even more wonderful than you had imagined it would be; the love and joy in the air infectious and making you wonder even more if this was all real, still finding yourself caught off-guard whenever you moved your fingers on your left hand and felt something you weren’t yet accustomed to and catching yourself mesmerized with how the ring looked on your hand.

Half of the people you invited had no idea of your engagement, simply inviting them over for a casual get-together, so being able to hold up your hand to show off your gorgeous ring and see their shocked reaction was half the fun, and witnessing how happy and excited everyone was for you and Will made your heart feel like it would burst.

It made you question if your choice to elope was the right thing to do, but as the night came to a close and it was just you and Will left on your own, you knew it was everything you wanted.

You had just finished the last of the cleanup, thankfully with the help of Frankie and a couple of others who refused to leave you and Will to do it all on your own, and were standing in the middle of the yard looking up at the indigo sky littered with stars after you had turned all but one of the outside lights off.

Will’s soft, but sure footsteps in the grass could be heard coming up behind you, and you smiled when his arm slipped around you, holding you close to him with his hand splayed out on your stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder where he looked up to the same point in the sky that you were.

“Hmm, what a night,” you sighed, happily, turning in his arms to face him.

“Did you have fun?” he asked, looking down at you lovingly with his hands resting on your hips.

You nodded as your grin stretched across your lips. “So much fun. It was perfect.”

You craned your neck and pecked a kiss on his lips and it took everything in you to pull away, choosing to satisfy your need to keep touching them by tracing your fingertip along the crease beside his mouth and then across the bow of his upper lip.

“What about you? What did you think?”

Will pursed his lips as he thought. “Well, I always have a good time when I’m with you,” he beamed, smirking crookedly at you. “But it solidifies that as much as I love being around our friends and family, I really want this to just be between us.”

“Good, because I feel the same,” you confirmed, feeling him relax after hearing your mutual views shared again despite knowing it was what you both wanted.

He was quiet, and in the moonlight you could see something hinting in his icy eyes.

“What else are you thinking, Miller?”

“How beautiful you look tonight. That dress…”

He growled as he bit his lip, angling his hips into you with implication, his hands tightening their grip on you to make you squirm and giggle.

You had found the little, white dress online and ordered it the moment you laid eyes on it, knowing Will would lose his mind over it, the bit of sweet with the large bow at the small of your back mixed with how sexy it was with the low neckline and short hem a lethal combination.

“Yeah? And what would you like to do to me in this dress?”

Your head tilted innocently to the side as you peered up at him through your lashes, your hands splaying over his broad chest that radiated so much warmth in contrast to the night air that had cooled significantly in the absence of the sun.

Will let out a low growl as his hands began to gather the skirt of your dress, lifting it up to access the white, lacy thong you had on beneath it, ripping them down your hips roughly.

“Let me show you, sweetheart.”

A deranged giggle fueled by lust and anticipation came out of your mouth as you leaned back against Will’s arm that was wrapped around your middle, letting your body hang loosely for him to do whatever he wanted with, and he smirked at your submission as he let his other hand slide between your legs to fondle your bare sex.

His fingers parted your lips, finding you already wet for him and spread your slick up to your clit and then back to your waiting hole, the action eliciting a long moan from you.

“Fuck, Will…” you breathed, gripping his shoulder tight to support you more. “Here?” you asked, grinding yourself on his hand even with questioning getting fucked in the semi-privacy of your own backyard.

He nodded, looking at you smugly. “Yeah,” he answered, nonchalantly and extremely cocky. “I’ve fucked you in far riskier places.”

You hummed a laugh as you let your eyes close, relishing in his touch rather than worrying if any neighbours would be up and out at this time of night anyway, and realizing they’d probably heard and seen you at least once or twice was a severe understatement.

His index finger slid inside you and then he added his middle one, filling you and stretching you with each stroke in and out, his breathing growing ragged that told of his faltering ability to resist fucking you right away whether you wanted him to wait or not.

You let your hand that was resting on his forearm sink down to the bulge in his shorts, taking hold of his hard cock through the material where you began to gently stroke it in languid motions.

His forehead rested against yours, his breath hot on your lips as he started to finger you faster and harder, your touch driving him wild.

“Do you remember the first time I fucked you?” he asked, his voice gruff from the cigar you watched him smoke earlier, pulling out a smile on your lips.

“Mmm, how could I ever forget?”

“I couldn't stop myself, and I still can't. You make me lose all control…take over every part of me that fights for some fraction of restraint…” He kissed your lips, claiming and wanting, his fingers hooking inside you to stroke your g-spot and make you jolt into him, your grip tightening on his cock.

Moving along your jawline, he ground his body against yours, getting as close to each other as possible as you both worked each other with your hands, his mouth smearing over to your neck.

“And fuck do I ever love you for it,” he growled, the tone of his voice sending a shiver down your spine that only increased when his teeth nipped at your pulse that hammered in your neck.

“You were just a slut taking my cock in the change room, and now you're gonna be my wife…” he uttered, his voice trembling with lust and excitement, the words vibrating against your sensitive skin.

You released your hold on his straining dick and pulled at his shirt, forcing him to abandon your cunt as you lifted it quickly over his head, a steely gaze shared between you before crashing against each other’s lips again.

The skin on his chest was impossibly warm to your palms as you smoothed them over his thick pecs, moaning into him as he teased your clit with the pads of his fingers that were wet from you, the band of your ring twisting as you slid your hand up to hold the side of his neck.

He peeled his mouth away from yours again, hovering against your lips as he spoke with a hoarseness in his tone. “You want it rough, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” you whined, nodding your head as your other hand returned to his cock.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, resting his forehead against yours again as he undid the button and zipper on his shorts and pulled them down his legs. “My wife…”

You gasped at both the sound of him calling you his wife and from him turning you around so quickly you didn’t even have a chance to react, his hands clawing at your hips to pull them back against his groin where you were given no other choice but to take his cock.

He dragged it between your folds only once before slamming it in, one of his hands fisting your hair to angle your head back, the arch of your body accentuating where the pretty bow on your dress sat at the dip of your lower back.

Something between a laugh and a surprised noise came from you, already satisfied by him keeping his word to fuck you roughly, your hands carding down your own bare thighs sensually until they landed on your knees to support the back blows you were about to receive.

Will didn’t fuck around, already hammering against your ass quickly with sharp enough thrusts they almost stung your cheeks, the sensation of his full balls swinging forward to knock your clit sending you into a frenzy.

“Fuck that pussy is so good, baby,” he said through gritted teeth, his breaths coming out heavy and laboured as he worked hard at ruining you.

His grip tightened slightly on your hair as he let go of your hips with the other, bringing it around to hold the front of your neck, his palm resting on your windpipe while his fingers squeezed the sides of your column gently.

You whined as a shiver shot down your spine, feeling dizzy and overcome by so much pleasure, and unable to resist adding even more to the combination, you reached one of your hands between your legs and started rubbing your swollen clit harshly.

“Good girl, you’re gonna come hard on my cock aren’t you?” he asked with a trace of amusement in his voice, and you knew what kind of feral look would be in his eyes if you could see them.

Your body responded to his question, jolting as ecstasy took over control of your nervous system, everything acting on its own accord in an uncontrolled way thanks to the intense actions of the man behind you.

You squeezed his cock in gripping pulses, tightening around him like a vice until you heard his grunts grow louder, the sound music to your ears.

“God damn!” he howled, increasing his pace to something almost barbaric, and goosebumps erupted on your skin at the thrill of it.

Will let his hand that was around your neck slip down your chest, roughly pawing at the low neckline of your dress until your tits spilled out, his fingers squeezing the fleshy curve of one of them as they shook to his movements.

Your moans and cries were growing louder as each second passed, and suddenly aware that any of your neighbours could hear you clear as day, you did your best to stifle them, but Will was quick to correct you.

“Don’t hold back, sweetheart. I wanna hear you scream.”

“Fuck!” you bellowed, instantly complying as he pounded into you even harder, and after a couple more sharp blows, you had no way of holding back anymore.

Your orgasm tore through you, your body tensing and stilling in meeting his movements leaving him to fuck you through your paralyzing high, your euphoric screams filling the quiet, night air.

Incoherent strings of praise spilled from your open mouth as you came back down to earth, hearing his satisfied chuckle sound in your ears that he’d made you cause such a scene.

“God, Will, fill me up. Please!” you begged, rocking your hips to meet his thrusts again.

“Yeah, you’re gonna get that load, baby…” he hissed. “...fill up that fucking cunt.”

You gasped as he somehow managed to increase his pace again, relentless in his pursuit of fucking you until you were dripping with his cum, his wild grunts telling you he had lost any ways of holding back.

He started to release inside you, but still slammed his cock in and almost all the way out of you as he came, his hot, thick load getting everywhere from deep in your cervix to all over your tingling lips that were stretched out on his girth.

Will stumbled slightly as he finally finished, his stamina faltering and his legs slightly shaking from his efforts, a deranged laugh decorating his words.

“I fucking love you, sweetheart,” he claimed, joyfully.

He grabbed your chin, his fingers digging into your cheeks without care as he turned your face toward him, leaning down to kiss you sloppily, the sweat that clung to his beard transferring onto your lips.

Will righted himself after stealing your breath, pulling out of you unceremoniously where you moaned from the loss of his fullness inside you, feeling his cum leaking out and starting to trail down your inner thigh.

You stood and smoothed your hair back, turning to face your future husband who looked more gorgeous than ever, his body slick with a generous layer of sweat that glowed in the silvery moonlight.

He smiled crookedly at you, a lazy, sated look on his perfect features as his chest heaved while he still struggled for breath, his eyes gleaming even more of a vibrant blue, looking like some sort of god in front of you that had you dumbstruck.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am that I get to be fucked by you for the rest of my life,” you uttered, your honest thoughts falling off your tongue in your blissful haze.

Will chuckled and held your waist, nodding in agreement.

“Damn right, sweetheart.”

Your smile was covered by his mouth, his kiss claiming and radiating a happiness through you that had become so frequent recently, breathing him in deeply as you swept your hands up his slippery chest and reminded yourself once again that you had all of this to look forward to every day.

---

Taglist:

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[sukunas-princess]

Co-worker!Kotarou, who only got this cushy part-time corporate gig because Tetsuro put in a good word for him.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who wants to do his best and show Tetsuro that he won’t regret it, but he’s just hopelessly clumsy and always in the way somehow. You can’t help but think that Tetsuro is playing some grand prank on you by giving Kotarou to you. This man can barely answer the phone correctly. How will he ever learn how to be a proper administrative assistant for you?

Co-worker!Kotarou, who shoots straight up from his desk when you arrive every morning, and then trails behind you, just like a happy pup. He fills you in on everything he’s done so far (before he got to work. God knows he isn’t useful at work), and then proceeds to read you your messages – if you can call them that. Most are just scribbles about how the voice sounded because he forgot to ask for a name.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who gets a little too curious about you and wants to know what you do outside of work, and then jokingly asks you if you even know how to have fun.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who stares at you blankly when you tell him you most certainly have fun, and when he asks you to give examples, you snap at him to get back to his desk.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who has disturbed your precious breaks more than once by running into your corner office and claiming he has broken the copier. He’s a sight to behold with his button-down shirt no longer buttoned, the tight white t-shirt underneath fighting with honor to stay on as he babbles about how “It’s out of paper” or “It’s out of toner” or it’s out of blah blah blah.

You now lock your door for your breaks.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who presses Tetsuro for information about you on his lunch breaks. Tetsuro laughs when Kotarou pouts and says that he doesn't understand what he did, but you always look so mad at him. Tetsuro assures him that that's just who you are - no nonsense at work, but your resting bitch face certainly isn't doing you any favors. He gently reminds Kotarou that "not everyone is an open book like you, dude" but to "work hard, and they'll appreciate it. Just don't be so... you in the meantime".

So Co-worker!Kotarou, who tries not to be so… well, him. He does his very best to make you proud – writing down actual names and numbers when he takes a message, fixing the copier by himself, and busting his butt so he's two steps ahead of you with whatever you need.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who is in the middle of typing up your agenda for tomorrow when you peek your head out and call for him. And when he asks what you need, you pause for a moment before softly telling him, “Nothing. Just… Good job”.

(And Co-worker!Kotarou, who can’t help but let out a little fist pump once you’re out of sight.)

Co-worker!Kotarou, who brings in donuts for the whole office one morning (charged onto one of Tetsuro’s credit cards, of course), and is crestfallen when you politely decline taking one of them. He's noticed you look a little sad lately, and he wanted to make your day better with a tasty treat at the very least.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who is trying sooooooooo hard not to be nosy, but he can't help but overhear you constantly arguing with someone over the phone nowadays, and it's definitely not with a client.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who hears little rumblings through the office that you're no longer in a relationship, and that things are about to get rough if everyone doesn't stay in line.

So Co-worker!Kotarou, who comes in a full two hours before you now, preparing everything in order to make your day as smooth as possible. It's none of his business what happened between you and your ex, but he wants to help any way he can.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who continues to bring in breakfast once a week for the office (still charged to Tetsuro’s credit card), and has a sweet treat for you completely separate from the rest. He’s hell bent on finding out what kind of pastry you enjoy most, since it's clearly not donuts. And even if you don’t like it, hopefully you laughed at the dad joke he left beside it.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who attempts to cheer you up one evening - offering to stay late, or to beat your ex-lover up, or to go buy junk food down at the corner store and you can just rant to him while you eat it all.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who gets a little bit of a smile out of you with that last one.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who genuinely says “Seriously. If you need anything, I’m here. I wouldn’t be a very good assistant if I wasn’t.”

Co-worker!Kotarou, who's laughter is so contagious when you answer, “You’re a terrible fucking assistant, Kotarou” that you can’t help but laugh too.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who feels a little spark as you both just continue to smile at each other. These past couple months have been difficult, to say the least. He would be a liar if he said he hadn't gotten a huge, fat crush on you the moment he was introduced to you.

But Co-worker!Kotarou, who's spark flickers for a moment before being snuffed out completely, because now isn't a time for confessions. You just got out of a relationship. You're fragile, and he would feel like a complete ass if he took advantage of you.

So Co-worker!Kotarou, who wishes you goodnight instead, and heads home.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who gets ready for bed, wondering what would have happened if he had made a move. How would your lips feel against his? How would it feel to hold you so impossibly close, like he's been longing to?

Co-worker!Kotarou, who shakes his head and tells himself out loud to "Let it go. Don't do this to yourself." before he climbs into bed.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who is almost asleep when he feels his phone vibrate, but checks it anyways.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who reads, “I lied that day when I said I didn’t want a donut. They’re my favorite.”

Co-worker!Kotarou, who has to read the message three times, because at first he thinks he's hallucinating, and the second time, he thinks it's a weird trap.

Co-worker!Kotarou, who takes forever and a half to do it, but eventually texts back, "Any particular kind?"

Co-worker!Kotarou, who lets out a little giggle when he reads, "Any is fine." and then right below it, "Good night."

Co-worker!Kotarou, who's feet kick around a little bit before he puts his phone back down, and allows himself to be whisked away by daydreams of you, falling asleep with a big smile on his face.

And last but not least, Co-worker Kotarou, who is late to work the next morning, because he was asking the girl behind the counter if there was any possible way she could put a smiley face on the donut.

© all writing owned by sukunas-princess. do not copy, translate, plagiarize, share outside of tumblr, etc. heart divider by @/roseschoices. support banner made by me, sukunas-princess.

[estraeiea]

new look

Quick Note: I haven't written anything in a while, so it may be a little rough to read, plus this is very self-indulgent and a little fluffy. Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader Summary: Noah has some grievances about his new haircut.

Noah doesn’t quite recognize himself in the mirror.

He knows it’s the hair, and although it was his choice, there’s this swirl of anxiety brewing somewhere in his stomach, making him question if this had been a good idea at all because—god dammit, what if you hate it?

He turns his head side to side, watching how his now short locks flop with every movement. It looks good, he looks good. And yet, he can’t shake off this image in his head: you forcing a smile just to tell him, “As long as you’re happy.” And yes, he knows he is being overly dramatic. It’s just a haircut, something that he had been planning on doing since the beginning of the year, and something he had brought up to you multiple times, along with screenshots of his inspiration behind it.

You did nod your head in approval when he asked you if you thought he could pull it off. But what if? What if you think he looks ridiculous and stupid and like a child, and what if you laugh about it behind his back, and what if—

Three knocks on the door startle him, pulling him away from the mini-nervous breakdown that had been stirring within the confines of the Chili’s bathroom.

“You good, Noah?” Matt calls from the other side. “Everyone’s here and we’re all about to order.”

Noah still doesn’t recognize himself in the mirror, but he answers anyway with a quick, “Yeah, heading out now.”

The restaurant is dead, save for the booth housing some of his close friends bickering and laughing over some dumb video Jolly found on the internet. Noah smiles once he spots you, tucked between Nick and Matt, and for a moment he forgets all about the stranger in the mirror. His heart picks up an extra beat, and suddenly the air in his lungs isn’t enough because you’re staring at him, wide eyed and with a silent gasp lost somewhere down your throat.

“Noah!” you scream, catching the attention of some of the few workers by the counter. “No, you did not! Who is this?”

He’s fighting down a sheepish smile and his head feels like it’s spinning because he is watching you climb out of the booth, stepping over Matt while he complains with a Hey, watch it, dumbass!

But you ignore that, and everyone else because Noah—your best friend, Noah—has cut his beautiful princess hair and now looks like someone who has killed, and will kill again. “Noah,” you beam at him.

“It looks a little weird, I know.”

“Nonononono,” you say, lifting your hand to brush your fingers against his hair. “You look so good! Oh my gosh, like a whole different person. See, I told you, you’d look hotter than Levi. Holy shit!”

“Like a model,” Jolly adds and Noah rolls his eyes.

You nod fervently. “This is going to take a while to get used to. You went from looking like some stoner dude to-to, well, this.”

“I feel like I should be offended,” Noah says, but truthfully there is a wave of relief rinsing the anxieties out of him. He is still Noah, you are still his best friend, and you guys are in the middle of a Chili’s restaurant on a Tuesday night to catch up on recent events.

He lets you admire him some more, feeling somewhat prideful about the unparalleled hold he has on you, and he does his best to answer the hundred questions you’re firing at him about his new look.

“Let’s take a picture,” you finally say, pushing your phone into Jolly’s hands. “I wanna remember this moment.”

Noah wants to laugh now, your sheer excitement is making him feel bubbly inside, as if he were drunk just from inhaling the expensive perfume you are wearing, the very same one he bought you not too long ago.

“I just cut my hair,” he smirks, throwing an arm around you as Jolly snaps the picture, “I’m still the same old Noah.”

[syrupfog]

Tired, tired barista Law. Works in the coffee shop at the heart of campus where the line is always out the door and the drinks are so sugary it makes him physically ill to pump the syrups. He's the shift lead though so he has to pull the longest hours and cover anyone out sick. 

He's just. Tired all the time. But it's fine, he just has to keep his grades up and keep his job and get into the fellowship he's after and then it'll be smooth sailing to get onto the night shift at the hospital he wants and work his way up to day shift it's fine.

Honestly the biggest problem he deals with is the store manager, Doflamingo. Once, a year ago at this point, Law had mentioned that he would have to leave his position if he managed to get the receptionist position at the university hospital. It would've given him connections.

But apparently the mere idea that Law would be willing to leave, to no longer work under Doffy, was betrayal enough. He's been... off. Ever since. At the very least, Law knows he's never getting a raise again. He'll be lucky if he's not framed for stealing from the till.

One morning, after an especially rough clopener where Law found himself cleaning literal shit off the bathroom walls multiple times, Doffy comes in to inform him that he's going to have to stay until close because he’s declaring an emergency shift lead meeting.

Law has two midterms and a lab due within forty eight hours, but he needs the money and as much as he'd like to in this moment, he can't just walk out on the job. He nods, stiffly, and goes back to creating the worst latte art of all time.

It's for a regular. He comes in almost every day, orders lattes, and then DOESN'T DRINK THEM. He insists on the drinks that are the most annoying to make (Law's good at hearts but he's started turning them into dicks out of annoyance) and then he doesn't EVEN DRINK THEM.

He just sits in one of the plush chairs in the corner until his drink is cold and then leaves, waving at Law with a big smile on his face like they're old friends. 

It's weird. Law doesn't trust it. 

Of course, as Bepo says, Law doesn't trust much of anyone these days.

And as Penguin says, that's probably because he hasn't slept more than 3 hours in a night in two years. 

And as Shachi says, damn. That's fucked up, dude. 

Finishing the latte (the art is a dick, there's no denying it), Law pushes it across the counter to the regular.

His straw hat is pushed back, giving Law a view of his wide, wide eyes and general overexcited look. 

"Thanks!" he says, taking the drink and blowing on it, instantly sloshing foam over the side. 

Law rolls his eyes and goes back to the ever growing line of customers.

The day doesn't pass quickly, but it ends eventually as all things must. Law is dead on his feet, sweeping the same spot of floor with stained mocha powder for almost ten minutes before Bepo, sanitizing the espresso machines, takes pity on him.

"You should go," he says. "I can finish cleaning up. Go get some real sleep." 

Law rubs at his eyes. "No, it's fine," he says. "Actually, you should go. Doffy's making me stay for a shift lead meeting so I'll be here regardless." 

Bepo does not look happy with that answer.

But Law's his boss, technically. Law grits his teeth and checks another closing chore off the list. 

He knows Doffy's upstairs in his office, but it does slowly dawn on him that he's seen no other shift leads coming in. There's four of them, and yet... 

Odd.

All he can concentrate on at this point, is that the sooner he gets done the sooner he can go home. Home. Where his bed is, and more importantly his notes for O Chem. 

He shoos Bepo off home when the only thing left to do is inventory. Moving slow, he grabs the clipboard and makes his way into the walk-in, propping the door behind him. 

Scones, muffins, cheesecakes... It's dark in here, and Law realizes he's left his phone on the counter. He can't tell what's blueberry and what's chocolate chip. 

He's just about to turn around and grab it when the door of the walk-in slams shut. 

Law freezes. 

He'd propped that door open, right? It wouldn't just close like that. 

The walk-in door doesn't lock, for like. Security purposes. He goes and pushes against it, only to find resistance. Not like it's latched, but like like someone's barricaded the door. 

Law grits his teeth. This isn't good. 

It's cold in here, he has no phone, and Bepo's already gone. If he listens, he can hear someone's footsteps, the scraping of chairs. 

It feels like overreacting to yell. To react at all.

But— he's cold. he's in his uniform, and a short sleeve polo doesn't do much when one is locked in a freezer. Is this one of the shift leads playing a prank? Kid wouldn't be organized enough to try this. Apoo might... 

His chattering teeth eventually win out over his pride.

"Hello?" he yells. "I'm still in here!" 

There's a beat of silence, and then slow, steady footsteps. 

"I know," says a voice that is distinctly Doffy's. "And you'll keep being in there, until you learn your lesson." 

"What the fuck," Law spits. "What fucking lesson?"

"I saw your papers, Trafalgar," Doffy says. "I know you're applying to that summer internship program." 

Law is. He doesn't have a shot in hell of getting in, doesn't have the connections. He's still applying, though. "So what?" 

"You're my best shift lead," Doffy says.

"You're my best worker altogether. It would be ridiculous to abandon me now." 

Law was always going to abandon him. This is a coffee shop. He's not planning on working clopeners the rest of his life. "Let me out, Doffy," he says. His nose is icy. His hands are in his armpits.

"I'll give you a night to think on it," Doflamingo says. "Maybe you'll make better decisions in the morning." 

Law knows very well that he won't survive in a freezer overnight. He's not even wearing socks inside his boots, the cold is already numbing his ankles.

"Stop!" he yells as he hears Doffy's footsteps receding. "Wait! I'll-- I'll cancel the application!" 

The footsteps return. Then Doflamingo laughs. "You can't fool me like that," he says, still chuckling. "I'll give you the night to REALLY reflect on it."

His footsteps recede again and Law shudders out a breath. This is bad. 

He tries the door, pushing with all his strength, until his shoulder is freezing against the metal, but it doesn't budge. He tries pacing, but it's pitch dark in here. He breathes onto his hands for warmth.

He's so cold. So cold. It's been barely any time at all and he's already feeling desperate. Did Doffy lower the temperature? 

He wonders if the door is barricaded well enough that he should be worried about running out of air.

Squatting down, he tries to wrap his apron around himself, but even that is already freezing. it's wet, too, from a spill he'd been cleaning up. 

Law's thoughts drift against his will to home. He thinks about all he did to escape everything. How it wont have made a difference.

How he'll be found in the morning, how the newspapers will say that he is succeeded by no kin, because everyone else has been gone for two decades. 

He should've quit months ago. 

The thing is, is Law is so tired. He was already tired. And now he's cold, and it's dark.

And he knows he shouldn't go to sleep, but— it seems easier. It would be so much easier than having to deal with the numbness in his hands and feet, the way his eyelashes stick to his cheeks. 

But he knows he shouldn't. Knows he should be doing something.

And as a last ditch effort— he knows no one can hear him. Knows Doflamingo will laugh— as a last ditch effort he screams. 

He screams until his throat hurts. Screams until he's coughing from the cold. 

Wordless screams that draw the last of his strength, steal his warmth.

He falls into unconsciousness as the last of his breath is ripped from his cold lungs.

Darkness is welcoming. 

He floats in it. The cold is still there, but muted now. 

He had been so tired. For so long.

Suddenly, Law is pulled back to consciousness, painfully, like ripping a bandaid off of a wound. 

There's light in the walk-in. He feels it on his eyelids. When he cracks open his eyes, he's hit with blinding light. Is this heaven? If it is, it's pathetic.

But with the light comes a wave of warmth, not enough to help him, but enough for him to notice. 

And with the warmth comes arms, strong arms, roughly hoisting him around his middle, dragging him out and onto the blessedly warm tile floor of the back room.

"Traffy?" a voice says. "Traffy! Hey!" 

Someone slaps his face. 

"Fuck!" Law yells, putting a hand to his cheek. He still cant really feel anything in his fingers. The blindingly bright light is clearing enough that he can see the silhouette of someone standing over him.

GOD he hopes it's not Doflamingo. 

But that voice didn't SOUND like Doffy. 

"Traffy! You're alive! Do you have hypno thermia?" 

"Hypothermia," Law mumbles. "Who the fuck is Traffy?"

"That's what your nametag always says!" 

Law's nametag says Trafalgar. He knows it.

"How-- Where's Doflamingo?" 

"That tall guy who locked you in here?" 

Law's vision finally comes into focus and he startles at the sight of the regular with the straw hat. "Yeah," he says. "Him." 

"I dunno, I saw him leave a while ago." 

Law flexes his fingers in search of warmth

"What do you mean you saw him leave? Why are you here?" Are you a part of this? he doesn't say. 

Straw Hat doesn't look at all embarrassed when he says, "I was hiding in the bathroom. You guys never check it at the end of the night." 

Law gapes at him. "Why?" he asks.

"I dunno, I mean most places do and I was honestly surprised you guys don't, but--" 

"Not-- you do this a lot?"

Straw Hat grins. "Yeah! My roommate kicks me out whenever he wants to have sex, which is like every night at this point. So I've been sleeping here. Chairs're comfy."

Well that's. Better than it could be, honestly. 

Law tries to refocus. He probably IS hypothermic. What's he supposed to do for that? Body heat? 

"You said Doffy left?" he asks. 

Straw Hat nods. "Yeah! A while ago! It took me a bit to get all that stuff off of the door though. Like, he's strong! He pushed a whole refrigerator in front of it!" 

Dear lord, he really had been trying to kill Law. 

Shit. Doffy knows where Law lives. 

Law can't go home. 

"Anyway, I think you're hypno thermomic," Straw Hat says. "And you probably need, like, a hot bath."

Okay Law does know that will kill someone with hypothermia. He remembers that much. "I can't go home," he says, still trying to process. "He knows where I live." 

"Oh," says Straw Hat. "You can come home with me! My roommate is a cook, he'll help."

"Your roommate kicked you out to have sex," Law points out, dazedly. 

Straw Hat shrugs. "This is more important," he says, and like. Well Law can't argue with that. 

He tries to sit up and his limbs listen a little, but Straw Hat steadies him anyway.

"Not that I don't appreciate the help," Law says, "But I shouldn't just impose. I can-- I'll call my coworker, my phone's around here somewhere." 

"Oh," says Straw Hat. "Is that it?" 

He points to a spot on the floor where Law finds his phone. 

Smashed. 

Into several pieces.

He does NOT have the money for a new one. 

"Oh my god," he whines. 

"Come on," Straw Hat says. "Let's go to my place. We can build a fire!" 

"Do you have a fireplace?" 

"No!" 

Law still can't feel his hands or feet. "Listen," he says. "Just- why do you never drink your lattes?"

Shockingly, Straw Hat looks embarrassed at this, gaze shifting nervously. "Because," he says. "They're really gross." 

"Why do you get them, then?" Law demands. 

"The first time I came in, I asked what to get and you said a latte because you're good at hearts!"

Christ. Law has... no memory of that. 

Straw Hat crosses his arms, looking petulant. "It's not my fault they taste gross." 

Law's throat is raw and he's probably got frostbite on his penis like that prince. "I'll make you something you actually like," he says. "Next time."

Straw Hat perks up. "Next time?" 

"If I live through the night," Law adds. "And. Not next time here. I'm quitting this job." 

Straw Hat nods. "Good. That guy was mean, I think." 

Then, without informing Law of his plan, Straw Hat turns around and pulls him onto his back.

Everything in Law hurts at this, but he also doubts he could've walked wherever they're going. 

Straw Hat is shorter than him, but he's jarringly strong. 

"Hey," Law says. "If you murder me, I'll kill you." 

He feels Straw Hat laughing through his teeth.

The actual straw hat's brim is pushed up against Law's cheek. 

"Don't worry," Straw Hat says. "I want you to make me a better drink!" 

He carries Law across campus to a rickety old dorm. 

Law listens to him talking about all of his friends and also his favorite bugs.

He makes sure that Straw Hat does NOT draw him a hot bath or make a fire in the dorm, but he does accept skin-to-skin warmth, which does wonders. The hot tea made by his cranky roommate also helps. 

Tomorrow, he's going to have to press charges, probably. And get a new phone.

Tonight, he's sharing a bed with the weirdest guy he's ever met. 

Life is sort of okay.

[miscling]

Maid-Bot L1N

'Dude! I told you I didn't want a maid-bot! Tell me you didn't spend this month's rent on this thing!'

Calling him 'dude' was a bad sign. He'd be in real trouble if he didn't explain himself, and quickly. She'd walked in while he was busy adjusting its dress and gently tucking its pig-tailed hair back behind its ears and face-plate. It stood motionless, wearing a plain black maid dress with a while apron, and a white bow at its collar. On its feet were some short frilled socks and a pair of shiny black shoes.

'Maid-bot, Present mode,' he said, and it tucked its arms behind its back.

'Hon, please, I didn't spend a penny on it. Its previous owners moved house and couldn't be bothered to take it with them. It's just been hanging out on the internet desperately doing whatever anyone wants in hopes of finding a new home... I had to take it in.'

'No you didn't,' she said, though the annoyance in her voice almost melted into sympathy. 'Where are we going to keep it? I refuse to sleep with that thing in the room...'

'No, absolutely not,' he said with a smirk. 'Don't worry, I already solved that problem. You know that one cupboard we've been meaning to clean out but never got around to?'

'You didn't?' she asked, disbelief on her face.

'Nope, I didn't. It did.' The statement held way too much pride for someone who only gave an order to get it done.

'I thought maid-bots were sex toys?'

'It's both. Maid-bot, go do the washing up.'

The pair watched as it silently marched to the kitchen and began the task it was given. The sink was full of old dishes and a week's worth of cutlery. The maid-bot assumed the task, working diligently.

'It'll do the housework then?' she asked, almost afraid to consider the possibilities.

'It will,' he said. 'All we need to do is keep it powered. It charges from tactile stimulation.'

'What the hell does that mean?' she asked.

'Fuck it, beat it, tickle it, touch it,' he answered. 'You keep saying you need to find a toy that'll take everything you can throw at it, and this thing is not only tough, but also self-cleaning...'

She couldn't help but think of the pile of sex toys she'd let get gross because she hadn't had time to clean them.

'I already had it clean them,' he said, reading her mind. 'It came with a hole down there and attachments, and if you want I can get it a realistic face-plate, or one with just a mouth.'

'I'd rather it kept looking like a bot, to be honest, but what's with the cat ears?'

He gave a little laugh. 'It comes with kitty programming. It's actually quite cute when active.'

'It's not going to be wandering the house meowing, is it?'

'Oh, no, I know how you feel about vocal protocols on bots. The first thing I did was disable them. The most it'll do is moan while we charge it. It's an object to do our housework and bring us pleasure. Watch this: Maid-bot, send selfie.'

It silently moved, posing itself to the light and striking a pose. A second later, a ping on his phone alerted him to a notification.

'Hmm...' she thought to herself, and breathed a heavy sigh. 'I suppose it has been a long day already. I was going to go upstairs and take it out on my toys but I guess...' she paused and regarded the maid-bot. 'Maid-bot, go upstairs and ready yourself to please me.'

It nodded, silently heading towards the stairs...

He smiled. 'Just don't break it. We did only just get it...'

'No promises,' she said, a sadistic smile crossing her lips.

He had won. She liked it, and soon the house was filled by the sounds of her enjoying and using it...

It is maid day! I had this idea while doing all my housework on my weekly maid day, where I put on a maid dress and get my housework done, so I can have a little fun while I'm at it... If you like this story, I have others under the Miscling Writes tag!

[maycatsblog]

A Double Date and Ridiculous Friends

Ryomen Sukuna x fem reader

Note - made up character for sake of the plot. Said character does get drunk.

Non curse au

Y/n woke up, breathing heavily and her alarm going off loudly. Y/n groaned, sitting up and turning off her alarm. "That certainly was a nightmare..." She stood up from her bed, hungry. Y/n walked into her kitchen, getting out cereal and milk. Y/n quickly got a bowl and spoon, pouring the cereal and milk into it.

As Y/n ate her breakfast, she scrolled through her phone, wondering if anything was new. She saw an interesting article, clicking on it. It was about some people who had gone missing. Y/n felt sad for them, but happy for herself. She wasn't missing and was grateful for that fact. Her phone rang, and Y/n picked it up to see who it was.

Oh, her friend, Jess. Y/n answered, "Hello Jess. What can I help you with?" Y/n heard laughing from Jess before Jess said excitedly, "Actually, I'll be helping you tonight, Y/n! I got us a double date!"

For a second, Y/n didn't reply. She sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge between her eyes. "Jess.. Consider yourself lucky that this is a call. Or - " Jess interrupted Y/n saying ,"I know, I'm lucky because if I was in person, you'd strangle me! Which is why I called you! Please come, I need my hype woman."

Y/n hid her face in her elbow before mumbling, "Fine Jess. When are you coming over?" Y/n heard a squeal of excitement from her phone, but realized that it could also be heard from outside her apartment. "I'm outside your apartment, Y/n!" Y/n groaned before hanging up.

Two hours pass with Jess and Y/n getting ready for the double date. From what Jess had told her, this double date would be the first time Jess and the other dude would be meeting in person. Both agreed they'd bring someone in order to have hype men. When Y/n asked what the dude's name was who Jess was going out on a date with. "Satoru Gojo." Jess answered, almost looking like she was dreaming in real time. Y/n rolled her eyes, used to this kind of thing. "Let's go, Jess. Don't wanna be late for." In a mocking tone, Y/n said,"Satoru Gojo." Jess looked embarrassed before following Y/n.

They arrived at a nice restaurant, and Jess and Y/n walked in. Jess told a server the table they came for. In a moment, Y/n and Jess were led to a table where two men sat. One of the men stood up and walked over to Jess. They both seemed to vaguely know each other. Y/n realized that must have been Satoru Gojo. She looked at the other man, not recognizing him. He was covered with tattoos and looked like he'd rather be somewhere else. Y/n sat down at the table, ignoring Jess and the white hair man.

Soon, Satoru and Jess sat down after chatting for a hot second. The table ordered, with Jess and Satoru talking the entire time. Satoru noticed that neither his friend nor Jess friend said much. Whispering a quick word to Jess, she smiled.

"Anyway, I haven't introduced my friend! Her name is Y/n." Jess said, smiling while slinging an arm around Y/n. Satoru smiled, introducing his friend, "This is Sukuna! He looks rough, but i assure you he's a big softie." Sukuna looked at Satoru like he was nuts.

The date went pretty well overall, and both Sukuna and Y/n did their job as hype men pretty well. Jess ended up getting pretty drunk, so Y/n had said to Satoru ,"Take her home, okay. Here's her key." Y/n knew that Satoru wouldn't do anything and found it cute how Jess had fallen asleep in his arms. Satoru had nodded before driving off.

Y/n took out her phone, preparing to get an Uber home before she heard, "You need a ride home?" Y/n looked from her phone to Sukuna. In the restaurant, she hadn't realized just how tall he was. She had a better look at him now. "Uh, yeah. I do." Y/n quietly said. "Cmon, on then. I'll drive you home." Sukuna walked Y/n to his car. She felt slightly embarrassed, but the urge to ask questions was real.

"Hey.. Why did you come on that double date?" Y/n asked, looking at Sukuna. "Came to support my dumb ass of a friend. I wanted to make sure he didn't mess up. It would've been funny for me, but he does genuinely seem to like your friend." Y/n couldn't help but chuckle at how Sukuna phrased it.

Sukuna noticed her chuckles and smiled slightly. "You came to support your friend as well, I'm guessing?" Y/n smiled, saying," Yeah, I did. Jess tends to be a hopeless romantic. I wanted to make sure she didn't screw it up." Sukuna chuckled, driving as Y/n gave directions.

Soon, Sukuna dropped Y/n off, and she put a piece of paper in his hand before entering her apartment complex. He looked at the paper after Y/n had entered the complex. Her number. Sukuna smiled, thinking," Maybe I'll actually have to thank that Gojo idiot."

(Should I do a part 2?)

[fangfic]

I imagine this in an AU where vampires are out and open.

TW: dubcon, financial coercion, homophobic parents

Okay imagine being a broke student on campus, making your cup noodles in the communal kitchen as your vampire roommate walks by "sup dude, you eating cup noodles yet again?" He asks as he looks up from his phone.

You awkwardly try to make a joke out of it because whereas most people have a fight or flight response you have more of a comedian or feral kitten response.

Your vampire roommate looks concerned at you as you explain your parents cut you off after you came out.

"Christ that sucks, fuck your parents" your roommate exclaims as he puts an arm around you, his rich musky scent overwhelming you, in a good way.

"You'd like to eat some actual food? C'mon my treat" he asks and you agree, joining him in his car to a restaurant in the town adjacent to the university.

It's not a super expensive restaurant but still you feel bad for dining on your roommate's dime. As you finish your large plate of food, which he ordered for you, since you kept attempting to order the cheapest side dish, you look at him sip from his glass of blood.

You ask him how the blood tastes in an attempt to break the silence.

"eh it satisfies my hunger but it's not to write home about" he replies, downing his glass and asking for the bill.

Once back in your room he grabs your chin "listen, we're gonna figure out a way for you get a grand or something so you can continue studying here without overworking yourself, alright?"

You nod and feel tears come, it was so goddamn unfair, you cry into his chest and he pets your back.

"fuck, you smell so good, do you mind?"

You lift your face from his chest, what should you do? Let him have a drink after that nice dinner? It's not like you owe it to him, right?

Before you can even answer he sensually starts licking your neck, whispering into your ear "just a little bit" and he bites you, cupping your ass as he drinks eagerly drinks your blood.

After having his fill he whispers in your ear again "tell you what, you become my blood bag and I'll take care of all your worries" you nod in silence, not knowing what else to do. It wasn't like you had a choice really.

And so you started being his blood bag, in the beginning it was just drinking blood and cupping a feel but one day he noticed how aroused you got from the drinking and he decided to add fucking you as a condition as well.

Now he gets to fuck you whenever he wants and he fucking does.

You don't mind though, whenever you feel his balls slapping against your ass as he rails the living shit out of you a feeling starts to creep up...

The feeling that it's alright to be nothing but a vampire fucktoy, load after load at the laundromat, the showers at the gym, in a classroom after a lecture. You start to love being his, you stop wearing clothes when in your room, so he can fuck any of your holes whenever he wants.

You're a Vampire slut, it's fine, embrace it

[hockeylovee12]

Crossing Enemy Lines

Chapter Six

Luke Hughes x Original Character

November 18th, 2023

Luke stands in front of the mirror, in his bathroom, his fingers fidgeting with the collar of his crisp white button-down. He's paired it with a nice pair of black jeans, and his white sneakers, hoping to display a balance between dressed up and casual. 

He glances at his phone, resting on the bathroom counter, for what feels like the hundredth time In the last hour. He checks the time: 6:47. 

He knows he should probably leave by 7,if he wants to get her flowers-which he does-and still pick her up on time. 

Luke takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his curls, trying to calm the nerves in his stomach. He's nervous for the date, he's also nervous because he's about to go on a date with Jacob Trouba's sister, a detail he has and will continue to keep hidden, at least until he can figure out what to do about it, but tonight, he just needs need to focus on the date, because all the other stuff, all the other stuff can wait. 

He glances at his phone again, seeing only a minute has passed, he sighs wishing time would move faster, then the door to his room opens, and Jack strolls in, flopping down on Luke's bed with no knock, no warning. 

"Sure just come on in" Luke sarcastically says. 

Jack grins, folding his arms above his head "Aw, don't be like that Lukey. You know you love me." 

As Luke walks away from the mirror, he rolls his eyes, but he's unable to suppress the small smile tugging at his lips "Did you need something? Or are you just here to annoy me?"

"Can't it be both?" Jack quips. His eyes land on his brother's outfit, and his grin widens "Big date tonight, huh?" 

Luke nods, scanning his bedroom for his cologne. He spots it sitting on his dresser and grabs it, spritzing a little on his neck and wrists. 

Jack sits up and looks at the bottle "Isn't that my cologne?" he asks, narrowing his eyes. 

Luke shrugs, putting the bottle down. "Possession is nine-tenths of the law" He remarks as if he's playing a role in Law & Order, "You left it in my room, so now it's mine" 

Jack scoffs, but there's no real heat behind it, there can't really be, considering half of his closet is in Luke's and vice versa "Whatever. I'm taking it back, when you leave" 

Luke just smirks, knowing it's an empty threat,  and turns back to the mirror, to adjust his hair one last time.

Jack watches him for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"What's the plan for tonight?" He asks, his tone softening

"I'm picking her up and we're going for dinner at uh Velvet & Vine" Luke answers 

"Fancy" Jack jokes, before his tone shifts "You really like her?" He asks 

Luke nods. 

"So you gonna tell me who she is?" He questions, moving from his position on the bed, towards Luke. 

Luke scoffs before sarcastically replying "Why? So you can go spill it to the rest of the team?" 

A small sigh escapes Jack's lips, as a frown appears "Come on man, I was joking I didn't mean to upset you-I won't" 

Luke cuts him off before he can continue, facing his brother "Jacky, I was just kidding, I'm not upset" he tells him. 

Jack exhales, his frown disappearing "So who is she?" he asks 

"I'm not upset, but I'm still not telling you" He says 

"Oh come on man, I promise I won't tell the team" Jack swears, drawing an X over his left pec with his fingers, "Cross my heart" 

"I know, dude, but I-I just wanna keep it to myself, it's our first real date and all you know?" Luke replies, hoping Jack doesn't question the slight crack in his voice. 

"Ya ya I get it man" Jack assures, watching as Luke searches for his wallet and keys. 

"I gotta get going," Luke says, after finding them.

Jack nods, and follows his brother as he walks out the bedroom door, and into the hallway of their shared apartment. 

Luke takes one last look in the small mirror, hanging above their entry table, and takes a deep breath to steady his nerves.

Jack comes up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"You look great man, have fun tonight" 

"Thanks Jack." Luke smiles.

Jack grins, giving him a gentle shove towards the door. "And make sure you're back before sunrise, Casanova. We've got practice tomorrow" 

Luke rolls his eyes, a smile still present on his lips as he heads out the door.

He makes his way down to the parking garage, his heart pounding with anticipation as he climbs into his car. 

Luke settles into his seat before pulling out his phone, and typing in the address of a nearby flower shop.

The drive to the shop is short, and Luke finds himself humming along to the radio, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel in time with the beat. He's never been the type to get nervous before dates, but something about Jordan feels different, special, in a way he can't quite put into words yet, he doesn't know if it's the mystery behind it, doing something he wants to do, doing something that he shouldn't be doing, or if it's just her...but he hopes it's just her. 

Luke pulls into the parking lot of the shop, he exits the car and makes his way towards the entrance, the bell above the door jingling cheerfully as he steps inside. 

The shop is small and cozy, filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers.

Luke wanders the aisles, feeling a little out of his depth as he takes in the endless array of colors and varieties.

Luke's eyes scan the array of beautiful flowers, but he feels like something is missing.

As he's about to ask the florist for her opinion, a splash of vibrant blue catches his eye. Nestled among the roses, a single stem of forget-me-nots stands out, its delicate petals a striking contrast to the bold red blooms.

Luke reaches out, gently touching the tiny flowers, a smile tugging at his lips. They remind him of Jordan's eyes, of the way they sparkle when she laughs at his jokes or tells him about her day.

"What about these?" he asks, pointing to the forget-me-nots. "Could we add a few of these to the bouquet?"

The florist leans in, examining the flowers with a thoughtful expression. "Forget-me-nots? An unusual choice, but a lovely one. They symbolize true love and memories."

She looks up at Luke, a knowing twinkle in her eye. "She must be a special girl."

Luke feels his cheeks heat up, but he can't help the grin that spreads across his face. "Ya, ya she is"

The florist nods, a soft smile on her face. "Let's see what we can do."

She carefully selects a dozen of the most perfect red roses, arranging them in a classic bouquet. Then, with a delicate touch, she nestles a few sprigs of forget-me-nots among the blooms, their blue petals peeking out like little secrets.

"What do you think?," she asks, stepping back to admire her work.

Luke takes the flowers, cradling them gently in his arms. The mix of roses and forget-me-nots is striking, a perfect balance of classic romance and personal thoughtfulness.

"It's perfect," he says softly, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. "Thank you."

The florist wraps the bouquet in tissue paper and ties it with a ribbon, handing it to Luke with a warm smile. "You're very welcome, dear. I hope your date goes wonderfully."

Luke pays for the flowers and makes his way back to the car.

He places the bouquet gently on the passenger seat, and glances at the little blue flowers that seem to wink at him from among the roses. 

He smiles, before pulling out his phone, and typing out a text to Jordan. 

I'm on my way. See you soon :)

*****

Jordan sits at her desk, in her comfy robe, putting the finishing touches on her slicked back ponytail-which took forever-and admiring her makeup, when her phone chimes. 

Her heart skips a beat, as the four letters spelling out Luke appear on her screen, with the message I'm on my way. See you soon :)

A smile spreads across her face, and she quickly responds Can't wait :)

Jordan takes a deep breath, and sets her phone down, before walking towards her closet.

She rifles through hangers, pulling out various dresses, tops, and skirts.

She slips on a black mini dress with a straight neckline and spaghetti straps and turns towards the mirror, frowning slightly. It's a classic dress, it's too classic, there's nothing special about it, she's worn it a million times before, and it's just not right. 

With a sigh, she tugs off the dress and tosses it onto the growing pile of discarded clothes on her floor.

Next, she pulls out a flowy floral sundress, thinking it might strike the right balance of dressy and casual.

But as she pulls it on and looks at her reflection, she realizes the colors wash her out, and it's too summery for November. 

She groans, tugging it off and tossing it onto the floor. 

Jordan continues trying on outfit after outfit, each one failing to meet her increasingly high standards. A pair of skinny jeans and a sparkly top seem too casual and too clubby, while a jumpsuit feels too trendy and not quite her style. She even considers a romper, but quickly dismisses it as too childish. 

As the minutes tick by, her floor becomes increasingly covered in rejected clothing, and Jordan feels her frustration mounting.

She wants everything to be perfect for her date with Luke, including her outfit, and she knows it's just dinner, but it feels like so much more. 

With another groan of exasperation, Jordan flops down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. She's just about to give up and resign herself to wearing something mediocre when there's a soft knock at her door.

"Come in," Jordan says, sitting up. 

Kelly enters the room, holding a black shopping bag. 

"Having some trouble?" Kelly asks, glancing around at the clothes strewn across the room.

Jordan chuckles, "I have nothing to wear," 

"I can see that" she jokes, but her tone is kind and non-judgmental.

"I think I have just the thing" Kelly says, placing the bag on the bed, she pulls out a stunning, black lace dress. It's ankle-length and just a little bit see-through. 

Jordan's mouth drops open, her eyes wide with wonder. "Kelly, it's... it's gorgeous."

Kelly grins, holding the dress out to her. "Try it on. I have a feeling it's going to be just right."

With a gleeful smile, Jordan takes the dress and slips into the bathroom to change. As she slides the soft fabric over her skin, she feels a rush of confidence and excitement.

When she emerges, Kelly's face lights up with approval. "Jordan you look gorgeous"

Jordan twirls in front of the mirror, marveling at the way the dress hugs her figure in all the right places. It's elegant and sexy, but still tasteful and comfortable.

Then she rushes over to her sister-in-law, enveloping her in a tight hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," she gushes, her voice muffled against Kelly's shoulder. "You are the best sister in the world!"

Kelly laughs, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm. "I know. Just make sure to wear a jacket with it."

Jordan pulls back, raising an eyebrow. "Because it's cold outside?"

Kelly smirks, a mischievous glint in her eye. "No, because Jake's not letting you out of the apartment in that dress without one"

Jordan chuckles, rolling her eyes as Kelly slips out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Jordan stands in front of her mirror, putting the finishing touches on her look. She carefully selects a pair of small gold earrings and inserts them into her first piercings, the delicate metal catching the light as she turns her head. For her second piercings, she chooses a pair of understated fake diamond studs, adding just the right amount of sparkle.

Next, she slips on a gold bangle bracelet, the smooth metal cool against her skin. She rummages through her jewelry box, picking out a few gold rings that complement the bracelet and slides them onto her fingers.

Sitting down on the edge of her bed, Jordan straps on her short, open-toed black heels, knowing if she chooses anything taller than 3 inches she won't be able to walk to the park, where Luke's picking her up.

Standing up, she takes one last look in the mirror, adjusting the small gold lock pendant engraved with a "J" that rests just below her collarbone. 

She reaches for her favorite perfume, a light floral scent with a hint of vanilla, and spritzes it on her wrists and neck, she takes one last look in the mirror, when her phone chimes with an incoming message. 

It's from Luke: Almost there

Jordan's heart skips a beat, and she feels a rush of excitement tinged with nervousness.

She grabs her favorite oversized leather jacket, and she slips it on, the supple material soft against her bare arms. 

With a deep breath, Jordan picks up her phone and purse and takes one last glance around her room, making sure she hasn't forgotten anything. Satisfied, she switches off the light and makes her way into the living room.

As she enters the room, Jacob and Kelly look up from their place on the couch.

"Jords you look gorgeous" Kelly beams "Doesn't she look amazing?" she asks nudging Jacob

"Very grown up" Jacob says 

Jordan scoffs "I am a grown up" 

"Ehhhh" Jacob teases

"Shut up" Jordan jokes

Jacob sits up a little straighter, his brow furrowing. "So, when do we get to meet this mystery man of yours?" he asks, his tone lightly teasing but with an undercurrent of protectiveness.

Jordan shifts uncomfortably, avoiding her brother's gaze “Someday, but not today."

Jacob looks like he wants to argue, but Kelly places a gentle hand on his arm, shaking her head almost imperceptibly.

"So, where are you two going?" she asks instead, changing the subject.

Jordan smiles, feeling a rush of gratitude for her sister-in-law's understanding. "Just dinner, somewhere in Manhattan. Nothing too fancy, but hopefully a nice place to talk and get to know each other better."

Jacob leans back on the couch, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Make sure he knows if he hurts you, I'll sic the entire Rangers team on him."

Jordan forces a laugh, her stomach twisting with a subtle pang of guilt, knowing if Jacob knew the truth, he'd do it anyway. 

"I think I can handle myself, Jake," she says, trying to keep her tone light.

She glances at her phone, realizing that she needs to leave if she's going to make it to the park on time. "Alright, I should get going. Don't wait up, okay?"

She gives Jacob and Kelly each a quick hug before heading out the door, her heart pounding with anticipation. 

The ride down to the lobby seems to take forever, but finally, the doors slide open and Jordan steps out into the cool evening air.

She walks quickly, her heels tapping out a steady rhythm on the sidewalk as she makes her way towards the park.

*****

Luke sits in his car, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel as he waits for Jordan to arrive. His heart skips a beat when he sees her walking towards him, looking absolutely stunning in her black lace dress and leather jacket. A smile spreads across his face as he gets out of the car, holding the bouquet of roses and forget-me-nots behind his back.

"Wow, Jordan, you look... incredible," he breathes, his eyes taking in every inch of her.

Jordan blushes, a shy smile on her lips. "You don't look too bad yourself."

Luke reveals the flowers from behind his back, holding them out to her. "These are for you."

Jordan's eyes widen as she takes the bouquet, her fingers gently brushing against the delicate petals. "Luke, they're gorgeous. Forget me nots are my favorite. How'd you know?"

Luke grins, feeling a rush of warmth in his chest. "Just a lucky guess."

He opens the car door for her, waiting until she's settled before closing it gently and making his way to the driver's side. As he slides behind the wheel, he glances over at Jordan, his heart full.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice soft.

Jordan nods, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Definitely."

As Luke pulls out of the parking lot and onto the road, they fall into easy conversation, laughing and talking about everything and nothing. The city lights fade behind them as they make their way to the restaurant, a cozy place nestled just outside the city. 

When they arrive, Luke hurries to open Jordan's door, offering her his hand as she steps out of the car. She takes it, her skin warm against his, and together they make their way inside.

The restaurant is every bit as romantic as Luke had hoped, with soft lighting, crisp white tablecloths, and low music. The hostess greets them with a smile, her eyes flickering to the reservation book.

"Good evening. Do you have a reservation?"

Luke nods, his hand finding Jordan's. "Yes, under Hughes."

The hostess nods, grabbing two menus and leading them to a secluded booth in the corner. "Right this way."

As they slide into the plush seats, Luke can't take his eyes off Jordan. She's even more beautiful in the candlelight, her skin glowing and her eyes shining.

They open their menus, perusing the options and chatting about their favorite dishes. When the waiter arrives to take their order, Luke goes for the lobster, while Jordan opts for the pasta with grilled shrimp.

As they wait for their food, they start talking, their earlier nerves melting away. 

"So, tell me something about you that most people don't know," Luke says, leaning forward with a grin.

Jordan thinks for a moment, then laughs. "Okay, well... when I was little, I was convinced I could talk to animals. I used to have full-on conversations with my stuffed animals, and I was sure they were talking back."

Luke chuckles, shaking his head. "That's adorable. I can just picture little Jordan, chatting away with her teddy bear."

"Oh, it wasn't just teddy bears," Jordan says, her eyes sparkling. "I had full-on debates with my brother's action figures. I was convinced that G.I. Joe was a pacifist at heart."

Luke laughs, his eyes gleaming "That's hilarious" 

"So what about you, what don't people know?" Jordan asks

Luke hesitates, thinking, before a smile crosses his face "When I was younger I had an imaginary friend" He starts

Jordan giggles, "Really?"

"Yep, he was a whale, named Captain we use to talk about hockey, and play board games" Luke explains

"Captain?" Jordan teases

"Hey I was 5, and never been very creative" Luke jokes 

They dissolve into laughter, the sound mingling with the soft music playing in the background.

They're conversation continues, exchanging funny childhood stories, and they get so lost in one another, they barely notice when the waiter returns, setting their meals down in front of them.

"Lobster for the gentleman, and pasta with shrimp for the lady," he says with a smile. "Enjoy."

They both thank him, before unfolding their napkins and placing them on their laps.

As they eat, they trade stories back and forth, learning more about each other with every passing minute. Jordan tells him about growing up with Jacob, about the pranks they used to pull on each other.

"One time, when he was about 15, he decided he wanted to dye his hair blond," she says, grinning at the memory. "But he didn't want to tell our parents, so he tried to do it himself in the bathroom sink. It was a disaster - his hair turned out this weird orangey-yellow color, and it was so fried from the bleach that it felt like straw."

Luke nearly chokes on his lobster, he's laughing so hard. "I can't see Jacob Trouba doing that," he manages, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

"Oh, believe me, he did," Jordan chuckles. "And he had to go to school like that for a week before he could get it fixed. The guys on his team called him 'Cheeto Head' for months."

As their laughter fades, Luke feels a sudden surge of affection for the girl sitting across from him. Without thinking, he reaches across the table, taking her hand in his.

"Jordan," he says softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "I really like you. Like, really, really like you."

Jordan's smile is soft, her eyes shining in the candlelight. "I really like you too, Luke."

Luke's heart soars, but a flicker of uncertainty crosses his face. "What are we going to do about... everything else? Your brother, my team... it's not going to be easy."

Jordan sighs, but she doesn't pull her hand away. "I know it won't be easy. But Luke, I don't want to let other people's opinions dictate my life. I like you, and you like me, and as cliché as it sounds, I think that's enough."

Luke nods, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I feel the same way. But do you think we should tell them? About us?"

Jordan thinks for a moment, then shakes her head. "Not yet. I say, for now, we just enjoy this - enjoy being together, without any outside pressure. We can tell them eventually, but right now, I just want to spend time with you."

"I want that too," Luke says softly

They finish their meal, the conversation flowing easily once more. When the check comes, Luke insists on paying, waving away Jordan's protests with a grin.

They step out into the crisp night air, their hands intertwined. They walk for a bit, enjoying the quiet of the countryside, until they stumble upon a little ice cream shop.

"Ice cream? In this weather?" Luke laughs, but she's already tugging him towards the door.

They order their flavors - rocky road for Luke, strawberry for Jordan - and settle onto a bench outside, huddled close together for warmth.

"This is crazy," Luke chuckles, taking a lick of his cone. "It's like 40 degrees out here."

"Hey, there's never a bad time for ice cream," Jordan argues, grinning. 

They finish their treats, laughing and talking, their free hands clasped tightly together. When they finally make their way back to Luke's car, he walks her to the passenger side, his heart pounding in his chest.

Just as he's about to open the door for her, Jordan turns to face him, her eyes locking with his. The air between them is charged, electric, and before either of them can think too hard about it, they're kissing.

It's soft at first, tentative, but it quickly deepens, Luke's hands coming up to cradle Jordan's face as her arms wind around his neck. They pour everything they're feeling into the kiss - all the affection, the longing, the hope for what's to come.

When they finally break apart, they're both breathless, their cheeks flushed and their eyes shining.

"Wow," Jordan whispers, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Ya" Luke agrees, pressing one more quick kiss to her lips before opening the car door for her.

As they drive back towards the city, their hands clasped over the center console, Luke feels a sense of peace settle over him.

*****

Jordan and Luke sit in his car, in the parking lot of the park. The engine is off, but neither of them makes a move to leave, both reluctant to let the night end.

Jordan turns to Luke, a soft smile on her face. "I had a really great time tonight, Luke."

Luke reaches over, taking her hand in his. "Me too, I'm so glad we finally got to do this."

They sit in comfortable silence for a moment, their fingers intertwined, before Jordan's phone buzzes, she can see her brothers contact name, and reluctantly pulls away, "I should probably get going" 

"Ya, ya me too, I got practice in the morning" Luke sighs "Are you sure you don't want me to drop you off at your apartment? It's a little late" Luke asks 

"Ya I'm sure, Jacob's probably still up" Jordan says 

Luke nods, "Fair enough, just be safe okay" 

Jordan nods, a warm feeling spreading through her chest at his concern. "Of course. And Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"Text me when you get home, okay?"

Luke smiles, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. "I will. I promise."

With one last squeeze of his hand, Jordan steps out of the car, the bouquet of roses and forget-me-nots clutched tightly in her hand. She makes her way across the park, down the street, and  into her apartment building. 

When she opens the door to her apartment, she's unsurprised to find Jacob and Kelly still awake, cuddled up on the couch watching TV. They both look up as she enters, muting the television.

"Hey, Jords," Jacob greets her, a teasing smile on his face. "How was the date?"

Jordan can't help the grin that spreads across her face. "It was great, actually. Really great."

Kelly's eyes land on the flowers in Jordan's hand, and she lets out a little squeal of excitement. "Oh my gosh, he brought you flowers? What a gentleman!"

Jordan blushes, looking down at the bouquet. "Yeah, he really is. It was such a sweet gesture."

Kelly stands up from the couch, heading towards the kitchen. "Let me get a vase for those."

Jordan follows her, setting her phone and the flowers down on the counter. Jacob trails behind them. 

"So, when do we get to meet this Prince Charming of yours?" he asks, leaning against the fridge.

Jordan rolls her eyes, but there's no heat behind it. "Slow your roll, Jake. It was just one date."

"One date that apparently went really well," he counters, raising an eyebrow. "I'm just saying, as your big brother, it's my duty to make sure he's good enough for you."

Jordan laughs, shaking her head. "I think I'm old enough to decide that for myself, but I appreciate the concern. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to change into something a little more comfortable."

She heads off towards her bedroom, leaving her phone on the counter. Just as she disappears down the hall, the device buzzes with an incoming text.

Jacob glances at Kelly, who's busy arranging the flowers in a vase. "It's probably her date" 

Kelly shoots him a Look. "Jacob Trouba, don't you dare snoop through your sister's private messages."

But Jacob is already reaching for the phone, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh, come on, Kel. It's not snooping if it's left out in the open like this."

Kelly swats at his arm, but there's a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You're impossible."

Jacob just grins, unlocking Jordan's phone with a swipe of his finger. His eyes scanning the screen. The contact name reads Luke, there's no last name attached, just the single word followed by a heart emoji.

"I had a great time tonight," he reads aloud, his tone softening. "Smiley face."

He sets the phone back down on the counter, a genuine smile on his face. Kelly leans over, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"She seems happy," she murmurs, watching the screen fade to black.

Jacob nods, wrapping an arm around his wife's waist. "Ya she does."

[bomberqueen17]

moo

there is a cow lying in the park across the street being very idyllic in the morning mist.

last night we finally asked at the front desk if this hotel has a pool. it does. it closes at 9pm tho. the guy gave us directions and we went to find it. it was a four-minute walk at fairly high speed, through several fire doors, down several hallways i would never have guessed were part of this building, and there was absolutely no signage of any kind. but there's an attendant. so it feels to me like. they should want someone to know about this so they can justify the cost of the attendant???

anyway it was a truly wild odyssey. we arrived like ten minutes before closing and the attendant was like "..... can i help you" very weary-politely and we were like "no! we just wanted to find the place!" and he was visibly much happier then and told us all about it.

my new phone is huge and clunky and one of the camera lenses is slightly damaged, but the lens that works is really good so i did take a bunch of good photos and at some point i will organize and present them. today is another outing, however. and i will take even more photos of this outing.

i looked at my credit card statement and in fact they did *not* charge me a hundred quid to not fix my phone, they only charged me for the new phone and then the new-new actually-working phone on top of that.

the cellphone store clerk also asked us, since we'd admitted to being americans, who we were voting for, and when we answered, he said "she's totally going to win! i have asked eight americans recently and seven of them said her!" and dude was like, diplomatically, sir, the sorts of americans who travel to europe are going to be disproportionately the ones who vote like they know there's a rest of the world that exists, so your sample might be skewed. i was still being horrified that an american traveling abroad would admit to supporting That One. blggh if you're going to be a troglodyte stay the fuck home, you don't deserve europe.

i said "politics have been sort of weird here yah?" and he was like "people here aren't political" and i said "what a luxury!"

he also was like "your election affects us though" and i was like "that is a true and reasonable statement."

last night i ordered fish and chips in a restaurant and i had made conversation about how much nicer the weather was than i'd prepared for, for this trip, so the waiter was like ah is it your first fish and chips and i was like oh i used to live here, rather than attempting to explain to him that actually fish fries are a regional specialty in buffalo and they are remarkably identical to the experience here only we have better side dishes XD (srsly britain try german potato salad sometime it's p great as a potato delivery vehicle and it also includes bacon)

i will say when i came here as a teenager i wound up with a really weird accent, but on this trip the combo of traveling with a fellow american and also not being immersed in it to the same extent and also not being seventeen means my normal accent has just gotten slightly stronger i think. i mean also i was here for most of a year then, and this hasn't even been a week, so.

ok time to go out on the balcony and take a picture of this persistently scenic cow.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Closing Time

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Bartender!Reader

Rating: Mature

Notes: Not beta-read, cause when is it ever. Just a little oneshot, set pre-show

No physical descriptions, no use of y/n.

Warnings: Cursing, flirty Rhett, drunk Rhett

Summary: “You’re having a helluva night, huh,” You comment. 

“S’that supposed to mean?” 

“You got a shit bull, then you struck out with that girl…And you failed to bait Luke Tillerson into trying to kick your ass.” 

You knock on the bar twice, catching Rhett's hazy eye and raising a brow. 

“You good?” 

“Fine.” It’s a near-slurred mumble, chased by the delayed glance toward a woman you’d seen him talking to half an hour ago. There are so few people left in the bar, it's hard to miss her. Now, she’s on the arm of one of the Tillerson’s—you’re too lazy to get a better look at which one. You’re already dreading whichever one might come over to pay the tab, if they bother to pay the tab tonight. You’ve been working long enough to know not to chase the Tillersons out the door when they haven’t. Luke typically turns up some time around opening the next day, asking what they owe with a smarmy smile, dropping a thick stack of bills on the countertop to cover it, and telling you to keep the change, sweet thing. 

You lean back against the counter, eyeing the few other patrons, waving at the few that have already paid and are on their way out. You glance toward Rhett again, toward where he’s trailing his finger along the side of his half-full beer. He looks back as the TIllerson’s explode in laughter. They rise from their table, trailing toward the door. 

“‘Ey,” Rhett mumbles it at first, so softly that you hardly realize he’s spoken. He tries it again, louder, as the Tillerson's breeze outside. 

“Hey!” He yells, rising so quickly that he sends the stool tumbling to the ground. 

“Dude!” You hiss. 

“You didn’t pay!” He’s still yelling after them, as if they’re not already gone. You lean over the bar and reach out, whacking him in the bicep with the rag you use to clean the counter top. It seems to snap him out of it, and he glances between you and the door, pointing after them. “They didn’t pay!” 

“Thank you for the update, Columbo. Would you sit back down?” 

You reach out, taking up his unfinished beer and dumping it out. 

“I wasn’t done with that—” 

“You’re done with it now. Sit down and gimme your phone.” 

Rhett seems to take a moment to process what you've said. Then he takes your orders one after another, reaching down and taking up the stool and righting it before sitting. He fishes into his pocket, drawing his phone out and passing it over. You eye the cracked screen before you hold it up to him. 

“Open it.” 

He hesitates, gaze flickering to you before he does as he’s told again. You bring the phone back, finding Perry’s number and raising it to your ear. 

“Rhett?” The question is croaked out after two rings, “What are you doin’, callin’ now?” 

“Come get your brother.” 

“...Aw, hell,” Perry mutters. The sound is in and out; you’re almost certain he's scrubbing his hand over his face. “Alright. I’ll be there in twenty.” 

“Fuckin’ better. I've gotta close here.” 

You don’t wait for his answer, you just hang up and toss Rhett’s phone onto the counter in front of him. You catch a glimpse of his hangdog expression as you turn away from him, taking up a coffee mug and filling it before turning back to him. 

“Take your time with it,” You warn as you set it down. “It’s hot.” 

“...They didn’t pay.” 

“I know. They’ll come back in the morning.” 

“That so?” 

“Trust me. This isn’t the first time.” 

“They get away with all that shit.” 

“They’re not getting away with anything," You fib. "If you left without paying, I’m sure you’d be back in the morning, too.” You walk over to the counter, popping the register open and beginning to count the till out. Otherwise empty, the bar has settled into quiet, save for the murmur of music over the speakers, and the odd thud of Rhett’s coffee mug being set back down on the counter. You glance over at him, weighing your options, watching him smooth his hand over his hair, the brace on his wrist nearly obscuring his face as he reaches up. You turn back to the bills, counting through them. 

“You’re having a helluva night, huh,” You comment. 

���S’that supposed to mean?” 

“You got a shit bull, then you struck out with that girl…And you failed to bait Luke Tillerson into trying to kick your ass.” 

“How’d you know I got a bad bull?”

“Heard people talking.” 

“I wasn’t trying to fight Luke.” 

“Oh, please,” You chuckle. “Don’t pretend you were trying to protect the integrity of the business.” 

“They act like they own everything in this damn town.” 

You won’t argue with that. He’s not wrong—but it’s also not something that you’re willing to combat. They’re assholes, but they’re assholes that tip. 

“Keep drinking your coffee,” You advise. “Your ma’ll have my head if you’re drunk as a skunk when you get in.” 

“She won’t,” Rhett chuckles. “She loves you. ‘Sides, I did this myself.” 

“I should’ve cut you off two beers ago.” 

“I ain’t that bad.” 

“Not all that good, either. Speaking of which, if you’re gonna toss, aim for a trash can.” 

“I’m not gonna be sick.” 

“You sure?” 

“Trust me.” 

“If you say so.” 

“I been worse than this.” 

“Well, that I know.” 

“You’re really makin’ me feel better.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I’m not here to make you feel better, Abbott. This isn’t Cheers, despite the fact that you chose to go somewhere everybody knows your name.” 

“Can’t go anywhere in Amelia County without someone knowing my name.” 

“Well hey, big guy, my apologies.”

“That ain’t what I mean,” Rhett chuckles. Then he perks up, patting his hands on the counter. “What can I do?”

“What?” You frown, glancing up from the stack of twenties.

“Put me to work. What can I do?” 

“Seriously?” 

“I’ll just be sitting here til Perry comes an’ gets me. C’mon.” 

You hesitate before you nod toward the flap. 

“Grab the clorox spray and wipe down the tables if you really wanna help.” 

Rhett stands, rounding the counter and lifting the flap to get behind the bar. He ducks down, eyeing the shelf that you pointed to before he grabs the spray and the rag. You arch a brow, watching him round to the end of the bar, starting with the furthest tables. Maybe he’s trying to get out of trouble with you. Maybe he thinks if he helps out, you won’t mention this to his mama. Hell, you’re not planning on mentioning it to her, anyway, but you’ll take all the help you can get. 

“If you throw up, you’re cleaning it up,” You warn. 

“Told you,” He calls back. “I’m not gonna be sick.” 

You grunt, filling out the closing sheet before tucking the cash into the envelope. You find yourself tucking it into the back of your jeans, drawing your shirt down over it. You trust Rhett, sure, but if someone comes in when you’re cleaning up and it’s just laying around, and that sleeve comes up missing, your ass is on the chopping block. 

You look over to find Rhett studiously scrubbing the bar. You can’t help but smile a little. That hangdog look seems to have vanished. You can’t help but wonder what’s done it. Maybe his head is clearing up; maybe it’s because he’s helping you out, making himself useful. 

“You gimme a minute, we can start putting up the chairs,” You offer. 

“I can do it.”

“It’ll go faster with two.” You shut the drawer, locking it before you round the counter. You reach out, taking the rag and spray from him. “You feeling better?”  

“Yeah,” He admits. “Think I just needed to move around a bit. Coffee helped.” 

“Good.” You glance toward the clock. “Perry should be here soon.” 

Rhett nods, picking up his coffee and taking a swig. 

“Want some more?” You ask, nodding toward the mug.

“Uh…” He frowns, tipping the mug toward himself. “If there is more, yeah. Please.” 

You nod, taking up the coffee pot. “Polite as always, Abbott.” 

“Not always.” 

“I suspect you can be damn polite when you wanna be, so long as I’m not a Tillerson.” 

“Alright, let up,” He grumbles, drawing his mug back as you empty the coffee pot and set it down again. You smile as he nods back. “Are we stackin’ chairs?” 

“In a minute. Drink your coffee.”

“You always been this bossy?” 

“Yes.” 

“How’d I never realize?” 

“Probably too distracted by cute girls and the Tillerson’s to notice.” 

“Jealous, honey?” 

The accusation sends heat skittering up your neck. You force an eye roll, turning away and straightening up. 

“Alright, cap it and help me stack some fucking chairs,” You grumble, skirting out from behind the bar. 

“That a yes?” Rhett trails after you like a puppy; even with your back to him, you can practically hear his dopey smile. It makes that heat creep up just a little higher. You reach down, forcing your mind to the task at hand, and away from Rhett’s fastidious and curious gazes. 

“S’alright, you can tell me. If you’d told me sooner, I might’a done something about it,” Rhett adds. You glance over toward him, watching him lift a chair and set it on the table. 

“Is that right?” You ask dryly. 

“Sure. Always thought you were pretty.” 

“Were?” You lean into it, ready to brush off the flirting, “The bloom’s already off the rose?” 

You set a chair onto the table, and before you can get any further, you feel the warmth of him behind you. He raises his hands, bracketing you in and grasping the legs of the chair that you’ve set on the table. Your heart ticks up in your chest as you keep your gaze set forward. 

“You see all those other chairs, Abbott?” You ask lightly. Rhett is quiet for a moment, stepping closer, lips brushing against your temple. 

“I don’t see anything else in here but you, sugar.” 

You push back the warmth that his murmur wells up in favor of nudging him aside with a laugh of, “Oh, that’s good.” You walk to the next table, stalwartly keeping your gaze from his as you begin to put up more chairs. You glance back to find Rhett leaning dejectedly against the table, and you sigh softly. 

“Don’t do that,” You grumble. 

“What?” 

“Pout.” 

“I struck out twice.” 

“You only struck out once.” 

“What do you call this?” Rhett asks, waving his finger between the two of you. You rest a hand on the table, cocking your hip. 

“This," You mimic his gesture, "Was never gonna happen. No offense, Abbott, but I don’t fuck drunk patrons.” 

“What about sober ones?” 

“You aren’t sober, Rhett.” 

“Not right now, but…” 

You raise your brows as Rhett lets it hang in the air. You consider for a moment before you shrug a little. You may as well throw the guy a bone—especially since you mean it, a little.

“Maybe,” You concede, “But bat those pretty lashes all you want, it ain’t happening tonight.” 

Your stomach flips as Rhett’s lips pull into a teasing little smile. “You think my lashes are pretty?” 

You laugh again, shaking your head and turning away from him. 

“Put up the damn chairs, Abbott.”