#and yeah. my old boss actually did sit me down and tell me that i was “no longer improving”

[sunnywalnut]

I think it's funny how my introduction to the work force was basically the ice cream man version of working in a sweat shop but my SECOND JOB EVER literally gave me the boss of my dreams.

Like how the fuck did we go from 15yo me being told that I'm no longer getting better to being 20 and being given chocolate covered pretzels and one on one training with a woman who believes in having questions.

Something isn't adding up here.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Rival VI

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You return to London

"Princesse," Magda groans as you come jumping down the stairs of the hotel with Pernille," What did I tell you last night?"

You very pointedly ignore her as you go skipping over to Sydney, Georgia and Sam. You present yourself in front of them, chest sticking out as you smooth down the familiar red material and the cannon crest on your chest.

"You're kidding," Georgia says, eyes wide as she looks up at Magda and Pernille," You have to be kidding me. You're letting her wear this?"

"I'm not!" Magda says at the same time Pernille rolls her eyes.

"She's old enough now to choose her own clothes," Pernille says plainly," We're fostering independence."

"Yeah!" You say with a little giggle, sticking your tongue out at Georgia happily," I packed it just for today!"

"It shouldn't have been packed at all!" Magda insists," I told you that you weren't allowed to pack it."

"Auntie Frido says-"

"Oh, here we go."

"-That choosing clothes is an exercise of my right to express myself."

There's silence for a moment and all of the adults look at you with varying degrees of shock.

"Do..." Magda's mouth is wide open as she stares, blinking a few times as if she can't understand why you've just said that. "Do you know what you just said?"

You shake your head happily. "Auntie Frido told me to tell you though. She made me remember-ise it."

"Memorise."

"Huh?"

"She made you memorise it."

"Yeah, that too."

Magda sighs deeply, eyes closing briefly before opening again. "When we get home, I'm burning your Arsenal kits."

"Auntie Frido says that's illegal! And I can sue you for it!" You turn to Pernille primly, chest puffing out. "She made me memorise that too."

To save Magda's eyes, you end up wearing a zip up hoodie over your Arsenal jersey on the bus ride over to the pitch.

You happily sit with Pernille, who lets you watch one of your favourite Scooby-Doo episodes on her phone as you hum the theme song under your breath. Your little legs kick around happily as Straus says a bit more about the game plan to the team.

You're not listening at all as you watch Daphne use her super cool martial arts skills to punch one of the monsters in your show.

"Alright, you," Pernille says softly as she takes her phone back," We're here."

"We are?"

Your head pops up as you look out the window, fingers automatically going to unzip your hoodie so you can show your Arsenal pride but Magda's there quickly.

Her hands make sure your zip is done all the way up and you frown.

"But Morsa-"

"No," Magda says firmly, lifting you up into her arms before you complain anymore.

You huff a little but don't fight her.

Magda carries you all the way into the changing room and still doesn't let you take your hoodie off. Even Pernille doesn't relent and you sit stubbornly in her cubby with your arms crossed over your chest.

"What's that pout for?" Tuva asks with a laugh, tickling under your chin," You not going to be our good luck charm?"

You shake your head. "No."

"Oh? Why not?"

"My good luck is going to Arsenal!"

Before anyone can stop you, you stand up and rip off your hoodie to show your Arsenal shirt.

"North London forever!"

"Oh no," Pernille groans as Magda's eye twitches.

"Whatever the weather!"

Georgia bursts into uncontrollable laughter.

"These streets are our- Morsa!"

Magda plucks you from Pernille's cubby, muttering under her breath too quiet for you to hear as the door to the locker room is knocked on.

Katie and Caitlin poke their heads around the door.

"Alright, Eriksson?" Katie asks with a grin," We heard our Big Boss was in the building. Do you mind if we steal her?"

"Actually-"

"Of course you can." Pernille takes you from Magda's arms without fuss, putting you back onto the floor so you can run over to the two Arsenal girls by the door. "Princesse, remember, be nice, helpful and-"

"Don't cause trouble," You finish off," I know!" You take Caitlin's hand. "Let's go see Auntie Stina and Auntie Lina!"

"The warm ups are just starting," Caitlin tells you," Have you got your gloves? Because I'm sure the keepers would love to warm up with their Big Boss."

[grifffins]

🔮 The Fool’s Journey (Into Trouble)🔮

Lilia Calderu x fem!reader

tags: Older Woman/Younger Woman, Slow Burn, Alternative Universe, No Magic AU, Age Gap, Oblivious Lilia Calderu, Yearning, Fluff

summary: I was just looking for a job, not an existential crisis—or a crush on my eccentric, older boss who calls me ‘baby’ like it’s nothing. Now I’m working at her tarot shop, falling harder by the day, and she has no idea I’m flirting. Desperate, I turn to my chaotic friends for help. What could possibly go wrong?

wc: 3.5k (Chapter 1/?)

a/n: this is like the first time posting in forever and I’m kinda scared, but Lilia&aaa really got me writing again. I’m so gay. No magic, just chaotic friends. Also, I aged Billy up because I can’t write kids.

also on ao3

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

I’d been looking for a job for what felt like forever. The kind of soul-sucking search that made me wonder if I was doomed to an eternity of scrolling through online postings, drowning in rejection emails, and contemplating whether selling my soul to a demon might be a viable career option. But then, one rainy afternoon, tucked away in the classified section of an old newspaper, an actual newspaper, for God’s sake I found it.

"Seeking shop assistant. Must be comfortable with the mystical and the eccentric. Call: 555-3827."

Did people even put ads in newspapers anymore? And who still had a landline in this century? Curiosity got the better of me, and before I knew it, I was dialing the number, half-expecting it to connect me to a dusty relic of a shop run by someone who spoke only in riddles.

Instead, a smooth, lightly accented voice answered. “Yes, hello?”

And that was the first time I heard Lilia Calderu.

The shop smelled like old books and incense, and the air had that thick, mystical quality that made you feel like you’d stepped into another world. The walls were lined with shelves stacked haphazardly with tarot decks, worn-out copies of books, and shelves of delicate crystal spheres that seemed to hum with some unseen energy.

And then I saw her .

Lilia Calderu stood behind the counter like she’d stepped right out of an old eccentric novel. Her dark curly hair, streaked with grey, was pinned up in a loose bun, with wild tendrils escaping to frame her sharp face. Those deep brown eyes, sharp as a blade, met mine with an amused glint. She had the air of someone who had seen it all and was quietly entertained by it.

“You must be y/n.” She smiled, and something in my chest tightened. “I must say, I wasn’t sure anyone read the paper anymore. Yet, here you are.”

I nodded, feeling far too awkward in her presence. “Yeah. Thought it was a joke at first, honestly.”

She laughed softly, an elegant sound that sent shivers down my spine. “Many people do, but this shop has its ways of finding the right people.” She extended her hand. “Welcome to your new obsession.”

And boy, was she right.

Lilia mostly handled the tarot readings, slipping into that almost trance-like focus as she read fortunes with an effortless grace that made me want to sit there and watch her forever. My job was…well, everything else. Cleaning, organising, taking inventory, manning the register when she was busy. The shop wasn’t exactly bustling, but it had its steady flow of customers mostly the kind who came in with wide eyes and a quiet reverence, seeking answers in the cards.

Lilia and I quickly fell into a rhythm. We’d talk about everything and nothing in between customers, and though she had a dry wit and a quiet confidence, there was a warmth to her that made me feel at ease.

Unfortunately, I also had an embarrassing, all-consuming crush on her.

And Lilia, bless her oblivious heart, did not pick up on my subtle flirting. At all.

I’d linger a little longer when we brushed past each other. I’d compliment her hair, her outfit, the way she shuffled cards like it was second nature. I even tried playful teasing, asking if she’d ever read my cards and tell me if I had a shot with someone older and devastatingly charming.

Nothing. Just a soft smile and a gentle, “Ah, love is such a mysterious thing, isn’t it?”

I should’ve given up.

But instead, I called in reinforcements.

Agatha, Jen, Billy, and Alice had been hearing about Lilia this and Lilia that for weeks. It had gotten so bad that the last time I brought her up over drinks, Agatha groaned and banged her forehead against the table. “y/n, I swear to all the gods, if you don’t make a move, I will.”

Jen sipped her wine, nodding. “I feel like I know this woman better than my own mother at this point.”

Billy leaned in, far too intrigued. “She’s hot, though, right?”

“Billy. ”

“What? I’m just asking.”

Alice, ever the voice of reason, gave me a sympathetic smile. “Alright, we need a plan. Operation ‘Get y/n Laid’ is a go.”

I choked on my drink, while Jen rolled her eyes. “Or, you know, date. ”

Agatha smirked. “I vote chaos.”

And so, it began.

The plan was simple.

Step one: The coven (as my friends liked to call themselves, despite having zero magical abilities) would ‘accidentally’ drop by the shop to scope out Lilia. Subtlety was not their strong suit, but I’d given them a strict list of rules— no embarrassing me, no obvious flirting on my behalf, and under no circumstances could Agatha challenge her to a tarot reading battle.

Step two: Once they confirmed Lilia was, in fact, into women (something I was still trying to figure out without outright asking), they’d casually encourage me to ask her out.

Step three: Success. Or mortifying failure.

I should’ve known better.

The day of the plan, they arrived with the grace of a train wreck. The bell above the shop door chimed, and in they strolled. Agatha with her signature overconfidence, Jen trying to look composed, and Billy and Alice whispering conspiratorially behind them.

Lilia, who had been arranging a set of tarot decks, looked up with mild interest. “New customers?” she mused.

I winced. “Uh, yeah. Friends.”

Agatha stepped forward, extending a hand with a grin that was far too wolfish for my liking. “Agatha. Nice shop you have here.”

Lilia took her hand with that calm, effortless grace. “Thank you. I do my best.” She glanced over at me with a raised brow. “I see y/n has been spreading the word.”

Alice beamed. “Oh, you have no idea.”

Kill me.

Lilia was polite but wary, and I could tell she picked up on something , whether it was the fact that they were clearly vetting her or just the general chaos my friends brought with them. But she handled it like she handled everything else: with quiet amusement and a touch of suspicion.

I could also see the way she lingered on me when she thought I wasn’t looking, the way she’d glance over when Agatha not-so-subtly hinted at my interest in “older, experienced women.”

And when Billy, in all his chaotic energy, ‘accidentally’ knocked over a shelf, Lilia just sighed and gave me a look that said, this is your problem now.

God, I was so gone for her.

I didn’t know if the plan was working, but when I caught Lilia watching me across the shop, her expression softer, more contemplative than usual, I had a feeling things were shifting.

I just had to make sure I didn’t screw it up.

The coven’s “casual” visit stretched far longer than I’d anticipated, and Lilia, ever the picture of grace and patience entertained their probing questions with a wry amusement that had me both sweating and swooning.

“So,” Agatha drawled, leaning casually on the counter, “how long have you been in town? A woman like you must have quite the stories.”

Lilia smiled knowingly, her dark eyes glinting. “Oh, I’ve been here longer than most would guess. The shop’s been in my family for generations, though I suppose I’ve... modernised it in my own way.”

Jen, ever the detective, sipped her overpriced coffee and murmured, “Modernised? You still have a landline.”

Lilia shot her a look that could cut glass. “It has a certain charm.”

I stifled a laugh behind my hand.

Billy, who’d been poking around the shelves, suddenly perked up. “So, Lilia, do you do, like, love spells?”

I nearly choked on air.

Lilia tilted her head, tapping a perfectly manicured finger on the counter. “Love spells are tricky,” she mused, her voice low and velvety. “You can’t make someone fall in love, you know. Only... reveal what’s already there.”

My face burned so hot I thought I might spontaneously combust. Agatha shot me a smug grin, and I swore I’d kill her later.

Lilia, however, seemed unbothered. If anything, she was watching me with a knowing glint, as if she’d caught the edge of something in my expression.

“Love is a delicate thing,” she continued, her gaze still on me. “It’s best handled with care.”

Jen snorted. “Tell that to y/n.”

I groaned. “Alright, you guys have had your fun. Let’s not traumatise my boss any further.”

Lilia’s lips quirked up. “Oh, y/n, it takes much more than this to rattle me.”

And with that, my brain short-circuited.

Once I’d finally wrangled my friends out the door—after no less than three separate goodbyes and a thinly veiled attempt by Agatha to invite Lilia to a “casual” group outing—I collapsed against the counter with a groan.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled into my hands. “They’re... a lot.”

Lilia chuckled softly, arranging a set of tarot cards in a neat pile. “They’re delightful.” She paused, her voice quieter. “They care about you.”

I peeked up at her through my fingers. “They do. Sometimes too much.”

She gave me that soft, unreadable smile that made my stomach twist in knots. “That’s never a bad thing.”

There was a moment of silence, comfortable yet charged. I watched her work, her fingers deft and graceful, and I couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel like trailing over my skin.

Which, of course, led to me blurting out the world’s most humiliating sentence.

“So, uh... are you single?”

Lilia’s hands stilled. She looked up at me, one perfectly arched brow lifting.

Oh. Oh no.

I swallowed thickly. “I—I mean, just curious. You know, for... um... business reasons?”

She stared at me for a long beat before a slow, knowing smile spread across her face. “Business reasons?”

I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. “I’ll shut up now.”

To my absolute horror, she looked amused . “No, I don’t mind the question,” she said, voice smooth and far too indulgent. “Yes, y/n, I am single.”

My brain froze. “Oh. Cool.”

I was going to die. Right here. In this shop.

Lilia leaned on the counter, eyes twinkling with mischief. “And you?”

Me? Functioning? Unlikely.

“Uh, yeah,” I stammered. “Very single. Like... aggressively single.”

She laughed, a low, rich sound that made my knees weak. “Aggressively?”

I groaned. “I have a lot of free time.”

She gave me a long, thoughtful look, and for the first time, I saw something flicker in her expression, curiosity? Interest? God, I hoped so.

“Well,” she said finally, “perhaps we should do something about that.”

I blinked. “Do something?”

Lilia just smiled. “You’ll see, baby.”

I was definitely going to die.

I called Agatha that night in full-blown panic.

“She called me baby, Agatha. She called me baby. ”

On the other end of the line, Agatha groaned. “And you didn’t throw yourself at her feet?”

“I panicked!” I hissed. “I just stood there like an idiot and nodded!”

Jen’s voice chimed in. “Classic y/n.”

Billy snorted. “You need to make a move before someone else does.”

Alice, ever the gentle voice of reason, hummed. “Maybe she’s interested in you, y/n. She wouldn’t call you ‘baby’ if she wasn’t, right?”

“I don’t know,” I whined. “She’s so cool, and she’s older, and I feel like a dumb kid around her.”

Agatha clicked her tongue. “You’re not a dumb kid. You’re a hot, chaotic disaster, and that’s charming. Now, listen, next time you see her, flirt intentionally. Make it obvious.”

“Oh yeah, because that’s gone so well before.”

“No more subtlety,” Agatha said firmly. “You need to show her you’re serious. Flirt, y/n. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She could laugh in my face?”

“She won’t,” Alice assured me. “She hired you, didn’t she? That means she likes you.”

I sighed, flopping onto my bed. 

The next morning, I walked into the shop, determined. Lilia glanced up from where she was rearranging the display, her smile soft.

"Good morning, y/n."

I swallowed hard, shoving down the nervous energy bubbling in my chest. "Morning, Lilia."

She tilted her head, observing me for a moment. "You look... focused today. A special occasion?"

"Oh, uh... just trying to be more productive," I said quickly, forcing a smile and internally cursing myself. I had one job: flirt. Be charming. Sweep her off her feet. Instead, I was standing there like a starstruck teenager.

Lilia gave me an amused glance, completely unaware of the internal screaming happening inside my head. "Well, productivity is always admirable," she said, turning back to her tarot deck. "Let me know if you need something to do, baby."

Baby. There it was again.

I nearly tripped over my own feet on the way to the back room.

Later that evening, I flopped onto Agatha's couch with a dramatic groan. "It's hopeless."

Billy, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a bowl of popcorn, rolled his eyes. "You're hopeless. There's a difference."

Alice patted my knee reassuringly. "Tell us what happened this time."

I sat up, rubbing my hands over my face. "She called me baby again."

Jen raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And?" I repeated incredulously. "I blacked out! Just stood there like a moron and stammered something about productivity!"

Agatha groaned, sipping her wine. "You are acting like the least seductive person I have ever met, and I have literally watched you seduce people before. What happened to that y/n?"

I threw my hands in the air. "That y/n wasn't crushing on someone three times my age who also happens to be the most sophisticated, intimidating woman I've ever met!"

Billy snickered. "You're acting like she's some kind of ancient vampire."

I glared. "She might be, okay? I don't know her life."

Jen smirked. "You could get to know it. Y'know, if you asked her out."

"That's not how this works!" I groaned, leaning back against the couch. "I need subtlety. "

Agatha rolled her eyes so hard I was worried they'd get stuck. "y/n. Sweetheart. You've been subtle for weeks, and she hasn't picked up on a damn thing."

"She has to know," I insisted. "She’s too smart not to have figured it out."

Alice smiled kindly. "Or maybe she’s just... not looking for it? You said she’s wary of the age gap, right?"

I sighed. "Yeah. I get the feeling she’s aware of it, but she doesn’t say anything. It’s just little things, like, if I compliment her, she brushes it off like I’m just being nice. She never takes it seriously."

Jen hummed thoughtfully. "Sounds like she's putting up a little barrier. Maybe she's worried it's inappropriate?"

Agatha smirked. "So we need to show her it's very appropriate."

Billy nodded eagerly. "Okay, Get y/n Laid 101 is officially back in session."

"Can we call it something else?" I muttered.

"No," Agatha said flatly. "This is what we're calling it." She leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. "Here's the new plan. We need to escalate. No more lingering looks and awkward compliments. We go big. We're talking bold flirting, unmistakable signals. She won't be able to ignore it."

I groaned. "Agatha, I don't do bold. I trip over air when she looks at me for too long."

Jen smirked. "Then it's time to fake it till you make it."

Billy grinned. "You know what would help? A little jealousy."

I groaned again. "No."

"Yes," Agatha said, pointing at Billy. "Yes. We make her jealous."

"Guys, this isn't a teen drama," I whined. "What am I supposed to do? Flirt with some random customer in front of her?"

Agatha snapped her fingers. "Exactly!"

Alice frowned. "That seems a little childish."

Jen shrugged. "It could work."

I buried my face in my hands. "You’re all terrible."

Billy patted my arm. "We're terrible, but we're effective."

The next day at the shop, I was feeling good. Confident, even. The plan was simple, escalate my flirting game, but not with Lilia just yet. No, I needed to show her what she was missing. And I was good at flirting. Really good. Just… not with her. Lilia was an enigma, a walking temptation wrapped in decades of experience and elegance, and I turned into an absolute idiot in her presence.

But with other women? That was easy.

The bell above the door chimed, and I looked up to see a gorgeous customer stepping in, tall, blonde, and effortlessly stylish. She glanced around the shop with interest, her gaze landing on me, and I caught the faintest flicker of a smile. I could work with that.

I straightened my posture, strolling over with a relaxed smile. “Welcome in,” I said smoothly, letting my voice drop just enough to be inviting. “Looking for anything in particular? Or just... browsing?”

She smiled, intrigued. “A little of both, I think.”

“Oh, mystery.” I leaned lightly on the counter, letting my fingers trace the edge of a crystal display. “I like that. Means you might need a guide.”

She laughed softly, tilting her head in a way that told me she was enjoying this. “And I suppose you’re volunteering?”

I grinned. “I’m more than qualified.”

We slipped into an easy banter, her eyes bright with interest as I smoothly navigated between flirtation and shop talk. She leaned in a little closer, and I let my gaze linger, deliberate and playful.

And then I felt it.

That unmistakable presence.

I glanced up and yep. Lilia was watching from across the room, her dark eyes focused, her expression unreadable. She was leaning against the shelf, book in hand, but I could tell she hadn’t turned a page in a while.

I ignored the way my pulse jumped and turned my attention back to the blonde, offering her a charming smile. “So,” I said, handing her a small charm, “this one’s for luck. Not that you look like you need it.”

She laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re good at this.”

“I try.”

Lilia’s voice cut through the moment like a blade, smooth, unhurried, but somehow commanding all the same. “y/n.”

I turned, heart skipping a beat. “Yeah?”

She strolled over, eyes flicking between me and the blonde. “Everything alright here?”

The blonde woman, oblivious, smiled. “Just getting some expert advice.”

Lilia hummed, arching a brow at me. “I see.” There was nothing in her tone that hinted at jealousy, but something lingered beneath it, something sharp and assessing. “Why don’t you help me with something in the back when you’re done?”

It wasn’t a request.

I swallowed. “Sure, just a sec.”

The blonde handed me the charm with a wink. “I think I’ll take this. Lucky, right?”

I rang her up, feeling Lilia’s presence like a shadow at my back the entire time. When the customer finally left with a lingering glance over her shoulder, I turned to Lilia with what I hoped was a nonchalant smile. “What’s up?”

She studied me for a moment, then gestured toward the back room. “Come on.”

I followed her, nerves prickling under my skin. Was she... mad? Intrigued? God, I couldn’t tell. She closed the door behind us and crossed her arms, regarding me with that maddeningly unreadable expression.

“Flirting with customers now?” she asked, tone light but with an edge I couldn’t quite place.

I shrugged, leaning against the wall. “It’s good for business.”

Lilia’s lips twitched, but she didn’t quite smile. “Mm. I suppose it is.”

Silence stretched between us, heavy with something unsaid. She tilted her head, studying me like she was piecing together a puzzle. And then, just as quickly as she’d pulled me aside, she turned back toward the shelf, and pointed at the boxes to unpack, business as usual. “Well,” she said, voice as smooth as ever, “let’s try to keep things professional, baby.”

And there it was again. Baby. The way she said it effortless, affectionate, and utterly devastating.

I cleared my throat. “Got it. Professional.”

But as I left the back room, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Lilia wasn’t quite as unaffected as she seemed.

That night, I sat at Agatha’s with my head in my hands. “She pulled me into the back room.”

Jen perked up. “Wait, what? ”

Billy nearly dropped his drink. “Define ‘pulled into the back room.’”

“Not like that,” I groaned. “She just... I don’t know, it felt like she was calling me out for flirting, but it wasn’t clear if she was mad or—”

“Jealous,” Agatha supplied smugly. “She was jealous. ”

Alice, ever the voice of reason, frowned. “Or she thought you were being unprofessional.”

Agatha waved a hand. “Unprofessional, please. y/n’s been working there for weeks with no complaints. She definitely noticed.”

Billy grinned. “What did she say exactly?”

I sighed. “She told me to keep things professional. Baby. ”

Jen’s eyes widened. “She called you baby again? ”

I nodded miserably. “I’m losing my mind.”

Agatha leaned in with a smirk. “Then we escalate. She’s watching now.”

I groaned, burying my face in a pillow. “Why is this so hard?”

“Because you actually like her,” Alice said gently. “And that makes everything ten times scarier.”

I peeked out from the pillow. “So what do I do?”

Agatha smirked. “You keep flirting, y/n. But this time, aim it at the right woman.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sum of All 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Steve Rogers

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you are given an unexpected assignment.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“You look upset?” Rogers’ voice startles you. You sit straight and rub the stitch from your forehead. How long has he been there? 

“Do I?” You wonder.  

Three days in this place, sifting through scraps and musty old receipts, and it’s starting to bleed through. Oh, don’t think of the blood. You grip the desk and shift in the chair. 

“I guess,” he shrugs. “Something wrong? I can get you a different chair.” 

“Chair, uh?” You look down, “no, that’s fine. Actually, I think I’m probably almost done.” 

“Good,” he says.  

He crosses his arms and turns on his leather sole. He starts to pace. He does that a lot. If he’s not sat in the arm chair or disappearing to wreak havoc out of sight, he’s there, walking back and forth. Back and forth. Combing his fingers through his hair, waving his hand in a wordless argument, moving his lips silently. Even if you hadn’t witnessed it that first day, you could tell he’s a man with a lot of pent-up anger. 

You go back to tallying it all up. Your stomach somersaults as you hover the pencil along the columns and review the numbers. Honestly, you are done, you just don’t know how to say what you need to. To tell this man what you discovered. 

“You’re breathing heavy again,” he stops and turns to you, “what’s the matter?” 

“Asthma?” You lie. He grimaces. 

“You got something for that?” He asks. 

“No...” you look away guiltily. “Alright, I don’t have asthma,” you wiggle the pencil nervously then tap your nose without thinking. What are you doing? You still it and put it down. “I’m done, okay, and, er...” you suck in air through flared nostrils, “you gotta promise you’re not going to freak out.” 

“Freak out?” He echoes as if the concept is absurd to him. 

“Yeah, because it’s not good news.” 

“Spill it,” he steps closer to the desk. 

You lean back in the chair and look up at him. A shank of his dark hair slips past his ear and the sheen of silver strands on his chin catch the light. His jaw squares under his thick beard. 

“Okay, but like just remember that it’s this Warren guy...” You clasp onto the armrests as you talk. “Oh boy, right. I’m not sure how to say it...” your eyes skitter back and forth. When you look back to him, that vein is bulging in his head. Just say it before he explodes! “He stole. A lot of money. And he actually hid it quite well but... yeah, I can show you--” 

“Amazing!” He claps and his face lights up. You flinch and your eyes go wide. Huh? He looks almost happy. 

“It is?” You flutter your lashes as the fog fades away from the edge of your vision. 

“You did it,” he said. “Get up. You gotta tell the boss.” 

“Huh? Me? You can’t--” 

“You’re the one who knows numbers. Grab the book, let’s go,” he commands. 

You don’t dare disobey. You grab the ledger and stand so abruptly, the chair snaps on the axle. You give a sheepish smile and scurry around the desk. 

He waves you out of the office. You’re all too happy to oblige at the realisation that you’re close to being out of here. He takes you down the hall and stops you at that same door. He knocks and waits until he gets an answer from within. 

He ushers you in ahead of him and shuts the door with a heavy click. That man, Buck, or Bucky, or Barnes, or whatever he wants to be, sits behind his desk. He is just as unimpressed as the last time you saw him. 

“Steve,” he greets the other man. 

“Go on,” Rogers nudges you with his knuckles. “Tell him.” 

You hold the book up in front of your chest and sway, “may I?” You nod towards the desk. 

Barnes gestures to the empty space and you approach. You put the ledger down, flipping it to face him. You turn the pages back and start at the beginning. 

“So, I was going through it all. This Warren guy. You see, here are the expenses, then--” 

“I don’t need the exes and ohs, doll, just get to the business,” he insists. 

“Right, I know you’re a busy man so I wouldn’t want to waste your time,” you chuckle nervously. “Alright, well,” you stand straight. Your head feels bubbly. “He stole a whole bunch money!” You say it a bit more chipper than you mean too. “Oops, well, not that it’s a good thing but...” 

Barnes’ eyes narrow and his chin ticks. You gulp and chew your lip. Shoot. 

“Sorry, don’t be mad. It wasn’t me, you know, I just added it up and--” You rock backwards and tip.  

You’re saved from hitting the floor as Rogers catches you and puts you back on your feet. He keeps hold of you, an arm across your back and his other hand on your shoulder. Barnes watches with unyielding derision. 

“Holy hell, she got something going on in her head?” Barnes asks. 

“She’s fine.” Rogers insists. “Look, Buck. We figured it out. You got everything you need to off that guy.” 

“Off... you’re going to kill Warren?” You squeak. 

Barnes gives you a sharp look and you seal your lips. Why did you say that? Your vision pulses and the colours blur. You feel yourself tilting and your head falls back. You slip into darkness to the shallow noise of your own breaths. 

When you wake again, you’re in a car. Rogers’ car. It’s dark and he’s silent. You look over at his shadow as he drives. You don’t recognise the streets outside the windows. 

“Noooo,” you sit up and pull on the handle as panic course through you. “Nooo, please, don’t kill me--” 

“Hmph?” He grunts and grabs your arm, pulling you back against the seat. “Sweetheart, if I was gonna kill you, you wouldn’t be awake right now.” 

“Oh god, so you would?” You screech. “I don’t know anything. Consider it all forgotten. Out of my head... oooh, my head.” 

“Calm down. Have some water,” he points to the cupholder. Your water bottles firmly in it. “Boss is happy. You did a good job.” 

“Oh, okay, right. Yeah. I’m a good accountant,” you say. You cringe and take the water bottle. You uncap it and clear your throat. “I’m sorry.” 

You drink deeply as he keeps his foot on the gas. You feel a bit better. You put the water back and wipe your hands on your skirt. 

“Um, Mr. Rogers?” You eke out. “Where are we going? You don’t have to say but I’m just asking.” 

He snorts quietly, “gotta pick someone up. You just stay quiet and don’t move.” He pulls up in front of a house. It looks like a really normal one. “Can you do that without passing out?” 

“I...” you look between him and the window, “I’ll try.” 

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience: ~Jungle Pool SOS!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: when kyoya offers up his families yet to open resort no one could have guessed what would actually happen. ➼ what to expect: “I have a duty of care for you" ➼ warnings: none ➼ Part six | Part eight

Now considering this was technically considered a club activity you have to admit this was the most relaxed you had been in a while. The sun beaming down on you while you sun bathe, even the usual drama of host club antics get lost in the serenity of an empty resort.

"I must admit Kyoya, when I joked a few years ago that the ootori group should create a holiday resort and label it as a form of therapy I didn't think you took it seriously" you muse, eyes closed as you bring in the sun rays.

Kyoya shrugs but quickly remembers that you can't actually see him "Believe it or not I don't completely disregard your ideas, expecially when they truly have merit, my father seemed to agree"

You hum knowingly at what he actually meant by that statement "I'm assuming that he doesn't know that it was my idea then" You tease, not really being that mad about the stolen idea, it wasn't like Kyoya was getting any direct monetary profit from the resort. "I did try crediting you but he had a hard time believing a fifteen year old girl came up with it by herself"

You weren't exactly surprised, you had met Kyoya's father after all, you knew what it was like by now. Luckily you were too relaxed to care at that moment.

There was a moment of silence, peace between the two of you. It was actually something you enjoyed when spending time with Kyoya, the two of you never forced conversation for the sake of it, which on it's own sounds sad but it makes any words that the two of you do exchange all the more important.

"If...you have any more ideas like that...tell me about them...I can at least appreciate a good idea when it comes from you" you laughed under your breath, "Well of course" lifting your sunglasses to rest against your head, sitting up to face him properly "You have taste"

"Why thank you my dear" he joked, taking a sip of his drink, watching chaoes unfold as Tamaki and the Twins argue over what Haruhi should wear. Typical.

“Haru-chan! Let’s play! You wanna go swimming in the current pool with me?” Honey tugs on Haruhi’s arm with a pink float decorated with bunnies clinging to his waist.

“Nah. I’m not gonna swim today. Hold on. You know how to swim; you still need that float?”

Honey shakes his head, “Mm-mm. Just looks cuter this way, you know?” Honey spins on his heel to go prancing in the other direction toward the current pool.

“Mm, he’s right. Those bunnies are pretty cute.”

“He’s so innocent.” The twins materialize on either side of your chair despite the umbrella above them.

You sigh, leaning back in your sun lounger basking in the controlled chaos you are used to.

“No way! You’ve got it all wrong!”

You start, awakened by a powerful rumbling in the ground and echoing voice.

“Is that Renge?” Haruhi turns her head to the offending sound.

A cabana splits in half, and the trees part to make way for her infamous contraption, the rumbling sound now accompanied by her shrill laugh.

“How does she do that? It’s like the rig follows us.” Haruhi sweats.

you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose "One day, all i want is one day"

“That outfit’s pretty impressive,” Hikaru observes Renge’s two-piece bikini and a tattoo winding up her ribcage.

“What’s with the tattoo on your stomach?” Kaoru inquires.

“Oh, that? You don’t recognize it? I’m cosplaying.”

“Yeah, as who?”

“La-La~”

“LaLa? Like the manga magazine?” Kaoru grumbles.

“Her petite and slender frame, her blue eyes that light up young men’s faces, her singing voice! I am Quon Kisaragi!” Renge extolls.

“I wouldn’t have guessed.” Haruhi sneers.

“I had no idea who you were supposed to be.” Tamaki shrugs.

Once again, the twins and Tamaki are huddled in a circle as Renge poses for Haruhi, who watches, miffed.

“Hey, Boss, are you sure it’s okay for Renge to be dressed-”

“-like that?” They point to the girl in question.

“Well, yeah. That’s okay.” Tamaki shrugs indifferently.

“And why is that?”

“Because it’s cosplay? I guess.”

“Listen up, boys! You obviously need help understanding Haninozuka’s hidden motives. Look!” Renge notes, pointing over to Honey and Mori.

“Takashi!” Honey calls, landing in the current pool and letting the current sweep him gently away as Mori watches fondly.

“What are you talking about?” Tamaki implores.

“Think about what he said to you earlier.”

“Just looks cuter this way, you know?”

“He’s not being as sweet and innocent as you think.”

From the chair next to you, Kyoya shoves his glasses up his nose, “I agree. Try putting the word 'I’ at the beginning of that sentence.”

“I just look cuter this way, you know?”

“I look cute!”

“He planned that?!”

“That’s Haninozuka for you. In the last part, he felt threatened by another loli-boy type, so he’s taken steps to keep his rank. I should give him more credit. He’s a lot smarter than I thought.” Renge descends into the ground and disappears.

“Hey! Look at this, everybody!” Honey draws everyone’s attention to him and Mori.

Mori swims diligently against the current with Honey on his back.

“Check it out! Look! Even though we’re swimming really fast, we never go any farther than we are now!” He waves excitedly.

“So, what’s up with him?” Tamaki groans.

“Could he really be that smart?” Haruhi interjects.

Hikaru cocks his super-soaker water gun; the squeaking draws Tamaki’s attention to them before he’s blasted in the face with a stream of water.

“I got ya!” Hikaru winks handsomely, resting his weapon of choice on his shoulder.

“C'mon, Boss, let’s go! Let’s have a water gun fight.”

“It’ll be me and Kaoru against you. If you get it in the face, you lose. What do you say?” Hikaru implores, hand on his hip.

“Forget it.” Tamaki dries his face, “Why would I want to subject myself to a childish game like that?”

An idea forms in each of the twins’ minds.

All of a sudden, you’re grabbed by your wrist and pulled from your nap with an exclamation of surprise.

“y/n, I think it’s time that we got married! Then we’ll honeymoon in Atami!”

You quickly break from their hold, sitting back down on the lounger really not wanting to get involved. "Considering if y/n was going to marry anyone it would be me you clearly haven't thought through your plan very well" Kyoya spoke up, glaring at the twins before nodding towards haruhi.

The twins quickly pick up what he's putting down "Good point Kyoya, we were thinking about this all wrong, Haruhi clearly is the better option SHE should marry us"

"gee thanks" you mutter but its clear that it did the job of pissing off Tamaki, breaking out a waterfight between the three of them.

“I’ll get you guys! Sideways-leaping shot!” Tamaki launches himself sideways, but the twins shield themselves with two comically large tiki masks.

“That’s cheating!” When Tamaki lands, his foot catches on the previously discarded banana peel, and he tumbles noisily into a totem pole, head first.

You wince and suck in a breath through clenched teeth, “Oh- that didn’t sound good.”

One by one, the animals on the totem pole’s eyes glow an intimidating red until the final animal at the top is shining.

You remove your sunglasses from your eyes and place them on your head, “That… doesn’t sound good either.”

As if he senses something is amiss, Mori drops his glass at your feet, attention diverting to Honey in the current pool, still carelessly kicking his feet.

Something underneath the water rumbles, and a wave develops until it’s practically a tsunami. With wide eyes, Honey watches as it heads straight towards him.

“Wah~!” It crashes over him, and his bunny float is sent soaring into the air- but without him inside as he’s flushed in the wave.

“Honey-Senpai!” You lurch from your chair, and your sunglasses fall discarded to the ground.

“Mitsukuni!”

Both you and Mori hurry to see if you have enough time to save him, but Mori slips on the same banana peel and falls harshly to the unforgiving concrete.

“Mori-Senpai,” You call in concern.

Tamaki jabs a heroic finger in the air, “Gentlemen, we’re going after Honey-Senpai! That pool looks like the quickest way!” he announces, referring to the pool Honey was treading water in before he was washed away.

“Charge!” Haruhi, Mori, and the twins follow Tamaki’s lead as they sprint haphazardly in a random direction.

As you see that Kyoya’s stayed put, you decide that it might be best to stay put as well. His family did build this resort, after all.

“Wait! I wouldn’t go-”

It’s already too late; the club has come across the alligators in that direction. “There are alligators in there!” They flee as quickly as they can.

Tamaki jabs another heroic finger in the air, “Okay. So we can’t use that pool, then let’s try this way next!”

But where Tamaki has pointed, several more alligators appear, snapping their jaws in a warning.

“They’re here too!”

“And here!”

With his more petite, brown leather portable notebook, Kyoya’s glasses glint off the sun as he explains your current situation.

“Those alligators belong to the park’s tropical animals exhibit. I guess it is kind of dangerous to let them run wild.”

“And yet i'm supposedly the one with bad ideas?” You huff in frustration, peering at Kyoya from your crouched position on your nap chair.

“Though, the cause of our present situation seems to be the location of the switch for the current pool. I’ll have to have a little chat with our designers.” He snaps the notebook shut.

“Thanks a lot, you guys. I got some great data today.”

“You what?!” The club exclaims.

“Ok I'll admit that is a little smart" You shrug.

“This is a map of the Tropical Aqua Garden. This is our current location. We need to get here- I have a feeling that’s where Honey-Senpai probably ended up. It might be tough, because to get there, we’ll have to make it this jungle area in the southern block.”

Kyoya drags his pen along the map to indicate your path, “Distance-wise, we’re talking about 800 meters.”

“It looks like there’s a lot of undeveloped areas. And idea what might be lurking in those parts of the jungle?” Haruhi cautiously inquires.

“Since they’re still being developed, I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“Yeah, someone’s going to have to carry me.” You lift your arms high and glance around for any takers.

None. Yet. You’re going to have to work on your skills.

“Whatever’s out there could be even more dangerous-”

“-than alligators.”

“Alright. Now, this is a mission of survival! I know we can make it through the treacherous jungle in one piece… It is our sworn duty to save Honey-Senpai!”

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In the dense plant life and humidity of the inner workings of the jungle, the sunlight is much more filtered than it was out in the open.

“Wow, this place is just like a real jungle, huh?”

If you couldn’t see the glass dome and someone had dropped you off in the middle of this theme park with no knowledge as to how you got there, you might have believed you were in the jungle.

“Yeah, and I keep hearing all of these really strange animal calls,” Haruhi grumbles.

“You don’t think that all of those animal sounds-”

“-could belong to the real thing, do you?”

Kyoya shrugs, “To be honest, I’m not sure, but I do know that my family always strives for authenticity whatever the cost.”

"There surely must be some kind of ethical issue if that is the case, wouldn't be a good healing facility if there is a serious alligator injury" you pointed out, suprised that Kyoya's family would put actually dangerous animals in an enclosed area.

Kyoya hummed "I suppose so but it also wouldn't surprise me if that was on purpose to drive more business to our hospitals" he muttered only loud enough for you to hear really. It didn't surprise you either really but you dreaded to think if that was actually the case.

As if on cue, Mori slips and falls behind the group. At the loud grunt and crash, you all turn to him. He lays unmoving with a banana peel on his face.

“Mori-Senpai is-”

“-acting as clumsy as you do, Boss.” Hikaru and Kaoru worry.

“Shut up!” Tamaki snarls as Mori sits up from his position on the ground.

Your accusations are correct- Mori is more worried than you can imagine.

The sunlight diminishes greatly, and you look overhead to see the beginnings of rainfall.

“Uh-oh, it’s about time for the squall,” Kyoya notes as he checks his wristwatch.

“Huh?”

The first few drops fall, then it turns into a downpour. You and the club take refuge in a nearby pavilion with a straw roof.

“Hey, Mori-Senpai. You seem to be really close with Honey-Senpai. Are the two of you like childhood friends?” Haruhi inquires from her seat in the pavilion beside the twins as Mori leans on the edge, watching the raindrops fall.

"You don't know?" hikaru asked "They're cousins" Kaoru added. You lean back against the wall of the shelter you are all in, sighing as you look out into the rain.

"Now this is the kind of rain that I remember" you mutter to yourself, the rain reminding you of europe. Kyoya also leans against the wall next to you "Hello? It's me. Well, we've had an incident that's caused some trouble"

you look up to see Kyoya on the phone, most likely to either his father or someone high up in his private police force. "No she's fine. yes she's unharmed" You raised an eyebrow, obvious that he was talking about you although you were confused on why whoever he was talking to was asking about you.

In the mean time Mori and Haruhi seem to wander off "Yes, at once, please" he finally put down the phone. "My family's private police force is going to send in a search and rescue team to help us, they're better equipped to find Honey-senpai than we are. so let's just go back to the gate and wait there"

The others weren't listening except for you, too busy arguing over Haruhi. "Hey, where are Mori and Haruhi?" he questioned as all of you left the shelter to head for the gate, but he shrugged it off, figuring they would show up at some point with a search and rescue team around.

The other boys rush ahead, still arguing "when you were on the phone before, you were talking about me? weren't you?" You ask kyoya, looking up at him as he looks ahead. "I was, why do you ask?"

You dead pan at him, head tilting at the side "You know why"

Kyoya sighs "you know I have a duty of care for you, as does my father, if I call up our police force when it is known that I am with you it is protocol to ask about your safety" he explains.

He pauses, stopping in his tracks "You know, I'm don't believe I mentioned to them that there are other visitors here. Huh. Oh well" He shrugs carrying on, hovering a hand over your back to urge you forward.

however instead of finding the gate you instead find a series of police officers on the floor with honey, Mori and Haruhi standing before them. We break out into a run at the sight of them "Haruhi!" Tamaki cries.

"Are you alright?" he adds, the five of you out of breath as you come to a halt "Hey its Tama-chan!" Honey says as if he hadn't just knocked out a dozen guards.

"You okay, senpai?" Hikaru asks. "Haruhi!!!" Tamaki leaps for her "I was so worried" the twins bend down to check on the guards "I'm not sure what happened here, but at least they're alive"

"It's pretty amazing that this is Honey sepai's work"

"He must have been really holding back" they continue to poke at the guards

"Huh?"

“What do you mean he was holding back?” Haruhi queries with innocent eyes, although Tamaki is in serious pain.

“So then-”

“-you don’t know about Senpai?” The twins seem bewildered by her lack of knowledge.

“The Haninozukas are famous for their martial arts. Not only have they helped train the police and SDF forces, but they’ve also worked with several overseas military forces.” Hikaru elaborates as they abandon their fascination with the grounded soldiers.

“Honey-Senpai, in particular, has been called the dreadnaught of the Haninozuka family. By the time he was in middle school, he’d become the national champion in both karate and judo.”

Honey turns when he feels he’s called, then giggles with closed eyes.

That’s the karate and judo champion for you.

“Mori-Senpai’s no slouch either. He won the national championship in kendo when he was just in middle school.”

Haruhi looks to her savior, and he turns when his name is mentioned.

“So how were you able to find us, Honey-Senpai?” the twins inquire as Honey has returned to his natural aura.

“It wasn’t hard. It didn’t take me long to reach the end of the current pool, so I decided to look for you guys.”

“We humbly apologize!” A different, more foreign voice pipes in, and the attention of the club directs to the soldiers, now reoriented from their initial shock and kneeling to the ground in a show of respect.

“I am a second-generation student of the Ishizuka Dojo!”

“I’m a student of the Todoroki Dojo!”

“And I’m from the Otakeh Dojo! We are in your debt!”

Honey’s eyes and posture display innocence and confusion, “Why? Is something wrong?” His voice can easily be mistaken for an eight-year-old boy’s.

“Yes, sir! We’re so sorry, sir! We were unaware that we were searching for Mitsukuni Haninozuka! We’ve committed a terrible offense here! I apologize for this confrontation. But my dojo will be so excited to hear that I’ve come face to face with the great Haninozuka! I cherish this moment!”

You snort, scooting closer to Kyoya, “I bet if he offered them an autograph, they’d pass out.” You snicker. You almost draw a smile from him, but rather he gives you a condescending look.

“What? I bet I’m not wrong.” You pout.

Honey takes Mori by the wrist and gently brings him down to his level, patting him gingerly on the forehead, “Takashi~ you did an amazing job of protecting Haru-chan.”

This patronizing show of affection elicits a smile from Kyoya as he adjusts his glasses.

“I bet you were pretty lonely without me around, huh?”

Mori’s eyes dart to the right where Haruhi is stood, “I don’t know if I’d say that.”

Honey smiles with a fond giggle.

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With the sun setting, the clear, blue water now fades to an orange, coral color as it washes upon the shore. It has taken the rest of the day to walk back to where you’d begun this journey.

Despite his earlier resentment, you now ride on Kyoya’s back, limp arms slung around his neck and your cheek pressed to his back, eyes contently shut.

Back to your much deserved nap.

“You know, maybe we should go to the beach next.” The twins stride ahead with arms casually thrown behind their heads.

“Yeah, the beach would be nice.” Kaoru agrees.

Kyoya glances over his shoulder at your relaxed features and smiles fondly. He’ll have to keep you away from the water.

“You idiots, Haruhi’s not interested in anything like that.” Tamaki scoffs confidently.

Haruhi smiles gently, “Actually, I might like to go to the beach.” It stuns the club, each one stopping in their tracks to look at her.

“I may not be into this silly water park but I like the ocean. It would be nice to go the beach, and it’s so pretty.”

Completely recovered and acting like he hasn’t just opposed it, Tamaki glitters, “Yeah! Alright. Then that’s where we’ll go next time.”

“We’re all gonna go to the beach, Tama-chan?” Honey quips, perched on Mori’s shoulders.

He hums gently, “That’ll be fun, don’t you think?” His inquiry is directed to Mori below him.

Mori simpers fondly, “Yeah,” It’s not hard to pick up the genuine agreement in his tone.

Next time on patience 'The Sun, the sea, and the host club!'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000

[fizzing-imagines]

Skulls and Snakes | Musician! Eddie x Bartender! Reader

Info: I may or may not have used this to vent about my patrons, so this may or may not include an irl conversation I had with a customer.

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, rude customer

Live music nights were your least favourite as a bartender. Not many patrons, little tips, lots of special requests from the musicians. Everything about Saturday Live Music sucked.

That's was what you thought until tonight's musicians walked in. Corroded Coffin, at least that's what it said on this weeks schedule. With that name, you expected sexist drunks who'll demand free beer from you. But instead, four young men with genial smiled walked in an hour before opening. "Corroded Coffin?", you asked as they walked up to your bar. The man with long, wavy hair hit you with a smile and piercing eye contact that seemed as gracious as it was theatric. It was far different than all the other musicians who gave you a pervy smirk with a wink. "That's us.", he said, still smiling. Out of kindness, you gave him a smile as well. "My boss told me you've been here before, so I'll assume you know how to set up.", you said while being arms-deep in a beer glass to dry it. "If you need help, let me know."

You watched from behind the bar as the four set up their instruments and did a sound check, much to your delight. This band might be the only one so far that was actually entertaining to watch. From their jokes and banter, you could tell that those four were in the music industry to have fun, not just for the money and tips.

"You need anything? Drinks, snacks, beer?", you asked them shortly before opening the doors and turning the neon OPEN sign on. The drummer did ask for a coke with lots of ice, while the lead singer did a small jump down from the stage to be at your level. "A beer would be nice. And your number."

You scoffed at his words. He wasn't the first one to ask you that, especially not with the musicians. The only thing that differentiated him from the others was the genuine smile he gave you earlier. "If it's not on the menu, I can't serve you that. Beer's coming up, big boy." With a provocative smirk, you turned to walk back to the bar. You didn't see him follow after you to sit down on an old, musty bar chair. It surprised you a bit when you turned and wete faced by him. "You're new?", the singer asked while you handed him his beer. "I don't even know your name, why would I tell you?", you teased. Messing with the musician or bands was the only fun part about live music nights. He laughed a bit, a beautiful laugh, and scratched the side of his head. "Yeah, you're right. Eddie Munson.", Eddie introduced himself. You were cleaning another beer glass while smiling at him. God, why does this dishwasher never clean them properly? "(Y/N).", you finally said. "Started two months ago, since Jerry moved away with his wife and kid." Jerry, your predecessor, showed you the ropes for two weeks before handing the bar over as your queendom. Your queendom, with a shitty dishwasher and even worse patrons. "I knew I didn't know you, would've remembered a pretty face like yours." You chuckled at his obvious flirt, although it wasn't appalling since Eddie was actually nice and not overly sexual about it. "You're just saying that because I served you alcohol.", you replied while putting the glass away. "If you'll excuse me, Mr. Munson, I have to open."

Surprisingly, Corroded Coffin was good. Their music might not be exactly up your lane, but you caught yourself swaying your hips and bobbing along more than once. "One Cider, there you go.", you said to the man sitting at your bar. His gaze went from the band to you, then to the tattoos on your arm. He furrowed his eyebrows a bit at first when he saw the skulls and snakes running along your arms, but his face eased up a bit. Considering your overly nice bartender voice and the smile that constantly played on your lips, the reaction to the ink on your arm was not surprising. "Thanks.", he said while taking the cider from your hand. While you were stacking used glasses in the dishwasher and Corroded Coffin went onto their last song before taking a break, your patron said. "Nice tattoos." You smiled at him while putting more dirty dishes away. "Thank you.", you replied in a chirpy tone. Without hesitation, he continued with a "I'm glad my daughter doesn't look like you, though." The towel you had in your hand was thrown over your shoulder as you put your hands on the counter to lean on it a bit. "Oh, why's that?", you asked him. Unfortunately, you're not allowed to argue with customers. Otherwise, the towel would've been ready to smack him across the bar. "Because she's got a good job. Gotta mean that I did my part as a father." His statement absolute gobsmacked you, so much that you quietly turned and walked over to Bev and told her you'd go for a smoke without giving her a second to say yes or no. To be fair, she knew better than to deny you a cigarette when you're clearly pissed off.

As soon as the first puff of smoke left your mouth, the door opened behind you. Eddie stepped out with a small frown. "You good?", he asked while getting his own pack of cigarettes out. Without really meaning to, you scoffed. "Asshole at the bar.", you simply stated while leaning against the wall of your workplace. He leaned against the wall next to you while you watched two other customers walk out for a cigarette. "He's just a dick, he's not worth your anger.", Eddie said before taking a drag of his cigarette. You knew he was right, but what he insinuated was one step too far. Besides, your dad loved you a lot and even came over to karaoke nights with his girlfriend.

"I know.", you sighted. "Just hope he pisses off soon." He nudged you with his shoulder, making you look at him. "I'll buy you a shot to take the edge off, what about it?" You laughed a bit, which made smoke come out of your mouth. "You know what a lady needs, Mr. Munson." When he saw your near-finished cigarette, he took it from between your fingers and put it out for you. The small and subtle touch felt odd, in a good way. Comforting, familiar. "And a gentleman, too." He gave you a small laugh before patting your shoulder and opening the door for you. "Let me satisfy all your needs then." His hand hovered over your lower back, but with a small step back on your part in found it's rightful place. Eddie's lips curled into a smirk at your small flirt while looking at you from the corner of his eye. God, you're beautiful.

"Pick your poison. Tequila, Vodka, Rum. We also have Jägermeister." His eyes scanned over the wide display of alcohol behind you before they met yours again. "Your pick, my money." Fuck, that was attractive - and so was he. "Two tequila coming right up.", you said before turning and reaching for the bottle of Tequila Silver. Fortunately, it gave Eddie a perfect view of your ass. His gaze went down to the counter once you turned around again and grabbed two shot glasses. The way he looked at the counter is a look you knew too well, although you didn't mind it this time. After grabbing a salt shaker and two half slices of lemon, you came back over and poured two shots. "Thanks for the pick-me-up.", you said while shaking the salt on the back of your hand. Eddie took it from you, grazing your fingers once again, with a smile. "Don't mention it." He glared over at the guy sitting at the bar. It could only be him, he was the only one there. "You deserve a reward." The way he said reward set something off in you. But it felt do good.

Both of you drank the shot, and his slightly grimaced face humoured you. "Don't like tequila?", you asked him. He shook his head. "I've had better." A laugh escaped your lips before you put the glasses aside. He was already taking his wallet from his backpocket once you came over again. You leaned over the counter slightly, intentionally giving him a perfect view of your cleavage. He couldn't help but give a quick look. Of course you noticed it, how could you not, but it was your intention after all. "That would be 8$.", you said to him. "I'm assuming you like tips.", he said while taking out a 20$ note and handing it to you. You took it, smirked and said "Depends on how big the tip is." with a wink. As dumbfounded as he was, Jeff was already pulling him back on stage as their break was over.

You successfully ignored the asshole customer unless it was for drinks, and after a good hour he paid and left. Finally, you thought as you watched him leave. Fortunately, a few more people sat at your bar, but those were really nice people you enjoyed occasionally chatting with. Since you were so caught up in your work, you didn't see how Eddie looked over to you more than once. He craved just a second of eye contact with you, and he did get it when they were on their last song - Patience by Guns n' Roses.

As soon as you heard the first cord, your head shot up from the dishwasher. You loved that song, what a coincidence. Did he know?

And there was that eye contact, and an instense one at that. He was practically looking into the deepest part of your soul while singing "If I can't have you right now, I'll wait, dear"

You didn't know when, or even if, you'd see him again. That was your only thought as you got out a menu page and a pen.

"Funny that you finished with one of my favourite songs.", you said to Eddie when he came to the bar for another beer. He smirked while taking the drink from your hand. "I assumed you'd like Guns n' Roses and went from there."

Did he just confess that he sung that specifically from you?

"I've got something for you.", you said before turning around and reaching for the menu page on the top shelf. Eddie was visibly confused, considering Bev already gave them their checks, but just as intrigued.

It made sense when you handed him the page with your number on it. Of course it was the same page the beer's were written down on. "Since it's on the menu now, you can have it."

Eddie carefully folded the piece of paper and put it in the front pocket of his leather jacket while smiling like an idiot. "I'll make sure to call."

[the-sin-hole]

fold 'em

stanxreader, 3.2k words NSFW 18+ it's smut baby!!!

fem!reader, vaginal oral + penetrative sex, a little anal stimulation and a couple spanks

+++

Your fourth old fashioned tastes even better than the first three. Or, wait. Is this number five?

You decide you don’t care as you sip it down. You look at your cards- a shitty hand. You’re glad you’re not playing with real money. You’d be broke eight rounds ago. You look up at Stan, sitting on the other side of the table in the living room, brow furrowed at his cards, his own fourth (or fifth) old fashioned already half-drunk in his other hand.

“I’m all in!” You announce confidently. Stan looks up at you through that furrowed brow of his. A flash of heat bolts through you. Even drunk, his gaze does something to you. After a second of weighing your decision, he puts on a cocky grin and says,

“You know that ain’t the best strategy, right? You can’t go all in every time and expect that to work as a bluff.”

You scoff. “I’m playing mind games over here, Stan. You don’t even know my long con.”

“Well, keep playin’ whatever games you’ve got, because I'm having a great time winning over here. I’m all in too. Aaaaaaand-”

He plops his hand on the table. How the fuck did he get three aces?

“Read ‘em and weep!”

You toss your assortment of twos, fives, and eights on the table, unbothered. He chuckles as he pulls the Stan bucks and monopoly money you’ve been using as barter to his side of the table.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up, Pines,” you say, sipping from your beverage. The alcohol has you loose and warm, almost sweating under the flannel you’re wearing.

“If I’d known you were such an easy date I woulda invited you weeks ago,” he says, smirk on his face. That flash of heat finds you again. Date, huh? Well, getting drunk with your boss after work and playing a no-stakes game of poker isn’t a date in the classic sense. But you’re not mad about it being considered one now.

Your sloppy drunk tongue speaks before you can even attempt crafting a witty response.

“Oh, you didn’t know? I’m a total slut,” you say facetiously. He blinks for a second, then laughs.

“Thanks for the heads up. I ain’t a prude, but if I catch you in the storage closet with any of my customers you’re fired.”

“I might be a slut, but I have standards!” You respond with a dramatically offended air. “Most of the guys that run through here couldn’t give me what I need anyways. I need someone with a lot of stamina, if you know what i mean.”

“Oh? You hard to please?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” you say, suddenly flustered at the direction you steered this conversation in, but your drunken tongue pays no mind. “I can’t even tell you the last time someone was able to get me to, uh. The finish line, so to speak.”

“Sounds like you’ve just had a buncha slackers,” he says, tone light and joking, but his eyes are glinting in a way that makes your heart beat a little faster. “A real man knows how to make it work no matter what he’s workin’ with.”

This is completely inappropriate. You’re in your boss’ house, alone, drunk. You’ve only known each other for a few months. Sure, you’ve been nursing a crush on him, but you definitely should not make this conversation even more sexual than it already is. That would be weird, right?

Your rational mind stands no chance against your now-empowered baser instincts.

“Are you saying you’re a real man?” You ask, tilting your head down and to the side far more flirtatiously than your rational mind would have liked.

“You tell me, sweetheart.”

You let out a giggle. “So you’re saying, on the record, you think you could get me to finish?

“That’s not what I’m sayin’” -he responds in a lower tone, and it makes your spine tingle- “I know I could.”

You actually blush at that.

“That’s a big promise you’re making,” you say through the ever-increasing heat in your body.

“Wanna bet on it?”

The question is said simply, casually. You chew on your lip as you study him. He’s still smiling like he’s joking, but the underlying seriousness has only increased.

“Sure, I’ll bet,” you start slowly. “But I’m not going all in up top this time. I’m gonna play this a little closer to the chest. And how are we gonna make this work, anyways? We’re not about to play strip poker, are we?”

“How ‘bout we do this truth or dare style. Whoever wins each hand gets a question or a command.”

You grin through a bitten bottom lip. Your heart is starting to pound. “That works for me.”

Stan takes the cards, deals again. You grab your hand- shit again, just like all the other hands you’ve had tonight. A jack, a nine, two threes, a king. Only one matching suit. You toss the king and jack into the discard pile, then place your threes on the table. He’s got a straight, beating your paltry pair. He smiles, and you can’t help but mirror it. “Alright, what am I doing?”

“How ‘bout you take a seat over here,” he says, patting his right thigh. Your heart thumps. This is more than you’d expect he’d start with. You stand, make your way around the table, trying to keep your pounding heart calm.

“Well this isn’t fair. You’re gonna see all my cards,” you tease as a cover for your nerves.

“I just won’t look, promise.”

You sit on his thigh side saddle. He wraps an arm around your waist and twists your torso, making your legs splay on either side of his thigh, straddling it, before leaning forward to grab the deck and shuffle. He hands you your cards face down, and you hide your hand by turning to your right, holding it close to your torso and out of his line of sight.

Shit again. You slap a pair of fives on the table. He places a four of a kind on top. His voice, deep, coming from behind you sends a twinge down your spine.

“Take that shirt off.”

“I didn’t think we were playing strip poker,” you say, nervous and excited as you reach up and start undoing buttons.

“I could tell you were gettin’ hot. I’m just doin’ you a favor.”

You take the shirt off and toss it to the floor, leaving you bare except for the thin bra underneath. The exposure sends a throb through you.

He deals again. Better, this time. You present a flush of spades. He puts down a straight flush.

“Take off those shorts, too.”

Your heart is beating wildly. You stand just enough to remove them. As soon as they hit the floor his hand grabs your waist and guides you back down to his thigh. You’re fighting back arousal now that just one thin piece of cloth separates your groin from his leg, but your attempt at repression just makes it all the more potent.

Again he shuffles, deals, plays his hand. Again you’re given jack and shit. He wins, and you can hear the slight smile in his voice as he says,

“Start moving those hips.”

You straighten a bit as a jolt of arousal shoots up your spine at the command.

“W-what do you- I-I mean are you sure you-”

He puts his right hand on your right hip. He guides you to thrust slightly back and forth on his thigh, grinding yourself against it. You swallow whimpers at the blunt stimulation. After a few seconds of guided thrusting you pick up the pace yourself. But his hand doesn’t leave you.

Your mind is starting to get fuzzy with arousal. You’re trying hard to keep focused, but your throbbing is giving you trouble.

Stan shuffles and deals again, one handed this time so he can keep the other on your hip. It feels like it takes hours before you get your dealt hand. And wouldn’t you know it... It’s shit again. You can’t help the excitement that runs through you as you lose.

“Take off those underwear.”

Your thighs clench slightly around his at the command. Your heart feels like it could pound out of your chest with nerves and exhilaration. You don’t argue, sitting up from his leg just enough to slide them down your hips, thighs, and letting them drop to the floor with your shorts. You sit back down almost tenderly.

Stan grabs your hip again, but this time pulls you back against him so your ass is against his hips, your back flush with his torso. You arch your back slightly, arousal intensified by the sudden proximity. He leans into your ear.

“I didn’t tell ya to stop moving.”

You shudder as his deep, low voice runs through you. You get back to it, writhing onto his upper thigh, against his upper body. His left hand gathers all the cards to he can shuffle and deal once again. As it does, his right hand moves from your hip, dipping down, easily finding your clit. A sharp “Mmmph!” escapes your throat as his finger rubs against it, almost casually so as his other hand works the cards. Stan takes his sweet time shuffling the deck while you writhe against him.

He deals your hand, and you can barely keep the cards upright with your overwhelming arousal. Your hand is shit yet again, but you couldn’t care less about that right now. You toss three random cards onto the table, no match for his royal flush.

“Sit on the table.”

You don’t want to leave, his fingers on your clit feeling too good, but the thought of what could be next propels you forward. You stumble up on weak knees and take your spot, jumping up on the sturdy hardwood table. You’re soaking wet and quivering with want as you watch him rise from his chair and come to stand in front of you.

He places a hand on your chest and gently pushes you back. You let him guide you. He reclines you enough that you place your elbows on table to prop you up. Satisfied with your position he places his left hand next to you on the table, leaning over you. His other hand wastes no time. He slowly, almost tenderly pushes two large fingers inside of your soaked pussy. The sudden penetration sends a veritable shock wave through your body. Your back arches and you slap a hand over your mouth to stifle the high moan that escapes you. Stan pulls his fingers back, the walls of your cunt tightening around them, and you pant under your hand. He reaches up and takes hold of your wrist, pinning it to the table.

“Let me hear ya, sweetheart. How else am I supposed to know what’s workin’?”

He lets go of your wrist and quickly thrusts the same two fingers inside you, quicker, harder. You let your moan go unhindered, sharp and loud. He laughs low in his throat.

“Sounds like it’s workin’.”

He starts thrusting his fingers steadily, not too fast, just slow enough to make you want more. You don’t hold back any of the increasingly-desperate moans that leave you. You can feel Stan’s gaze eating up every part of you as you squirm and pant on the table beneath him.

“Y’know, when you said you had trouble finishing, I thought you meant real trouble. But it’s obvious from how soaked your pussy is… this ain’t gonna be a problem.”

“B-but I’m not even close-“ you pant between moans. It’s not a lie; despite how aroused you are and how good the stimulation feels, you aren’t close to an orgasm yet.

“Trust me, sugar,” Stan says and removes his fingers, lifting them up to his face, licking your wetness from them without breaking eye contact. He swiftly kneels down in front of your pussy. He grabs the undersides of your thighs, pushes them up and open to expose your dripping cunt. He passes over your clit with his tongue in one long slow stroke, making your legs quiver as he goes, eliciting breathless moans. He pulls back.

“It ain’t gonna be a problem.”

He goes again in one slow stroke. And again. And again. And again. The tender monotony is driving you insane. Your face is red hot with arousal. You try to clench your thighs on either side of his head so you can get more stimulation, but his firm grasp keeps your legs open. You squirm, weakly try to rock your hips, but his glacial pace continues. After minutes on minutes on minutes you’re throbbing almost painfully. You can’t help it: you start pleading.

“S-Stan- hah- please- hah- I need more-“

He ignores your pleas, but you can feel him make a noise low in his throat. You try harder.

“G-god Stan- hah- you’re making me fucking insane- hah- I don’t know how much longer I can take this-“

Another low hum, more like a growl in his throat. Your pussy aches with the desire for penetration. Your voice grows more desperate.

“Please, please, I want more-“

He groans against your cunt and you, swollen, hypersensitive, can feel it. You moan with him. Finally he pulls back and looks up at you. You’re panting hard, sweating, desperation evident in your heavy lidded gaze.

“I dunno if you’re ready, sugar. You close?”

You’re certainly closer than you were before… but you’re not sure if you’ll be able to finish. Though at this point you’re so desperate for penetration you’ll say anything.

“Yes,” you say quickly. Too quickly. He raises an eyebrow. He roughly runs his thumb over your swollen clit.

“Nngh!” You let out between clenched teeth, and your legs twitch involuntarily.

“You bein' honest?”

You take a second to respond, debating whether or not to lie once more. He does it again.

“Nngh-no! I-I don’t think so! God, I just want you to fuck me!” You say loud, pleading, the throbbing in your pussy almost unbearable.

“Atta girl,” he says, and stands. “Honesty is the best policy y’know.”

He pulls your hips to his at the edge of the table. He grinds against you, and you can feel his cock pressing against his zipper, bulging against your cunt.

He gives you no rest. His thumb once again finds your clit, now working in steady circles. You roll your hips against him as you gasp and moan, trying to entice him to pull his cock out and fuck you. But he’s playing the long game. His thumb circling your clit is steady as he leans forward and starts placing kisses on your neck. The kisses slowly evolve from gentle pecks against your skin to licks, then to sucking and finally small bites, trailing all the way from your jaw to your breasts. Your moans are getting lower, deeper as the stimulation ever increases. His mouth finds your breast and his tongue flicks against your nipple. You’re so stimulated your hips buck at the contact.

Suddenly, as if that was his cue, he stands upright again. You feel less drunk from the alcohol than the prolonged intense state of arousal he’s kept you in. You’re finally starting to feel like you’re getting close. You look up at him and tremble while you wait for what’s next.

“Flip over, sugar.”

It’s a bit of a struggle, getting your feet back down to the floor without your knees buckling under you, but you manage it. When they meet the floor you’re right up against Stan, your naked flesh against his partly undone suit. Your eyes meet for a few seconds before you do as you’re told and turn, placing your hips against the table and bending over the table. You don’t bend fully, not at first. You just lean forward and place your hands on the table. But Stan quickly rectifies this. He gently pushes against your back so you press yourself fully against the hardwood. Once you're fully submitted, he presses your hips against your ass. His other hand grabs the underside of your right thigh and lifts it up, placing your knee on the table, exposing yourself to him once again.

You hear the sound of a zipper being opened, and you’re so excited you feel like you could pass out then and there.

But he doesn’t give it to you, not yet. He instead just presses the length of his cock against your soaked cunt and rocks his hips slightly. You can’t exactly tell how big he is, but you can tell he’s thick.

“Oh fuck Stan, please, I- Augh!”

As you beg he pulls back just enough to position himself and slip the head of his cock inside you. A fresh wave of heat rolls through you at the penetration. He rolls his hips, not entering you fully, just his head tantalizingly stimulating the edge of your cunt. You’re about to start begging again when his left hand spanks your ass and you yelp, pushing yourself a little more onto his cock, and he reacts by running that same hand up your back, your neck, tangling itself in your hair and holding you down firmly.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself sweetheart,” he says and spanks you again with his other hand. Your body tries to buck like it did before but Stan’s grip keeps you in place.

“We’re almost there,” he nearly growls, the words low in his throat.

His right hand gropes your ass before traveling inward. It brushes over your asshole, then presses slightly, before working in a small circle like he did to your clit just a minute before. He resumes rolling his hips, letting himself delve an inch deeper into you as he does. You try so, so hard to move yourself back up into him, but his grasp won’t let you. After a minute more, the thumb against your asshole slips inside. You let out another loud moan at the meager penetration, every sensation now heightened after all this time. Finally, you say it, and it’s true:

“P-please Stan… I’m close-”

The weak desperation in your voice makes it obvious, and that’s all Stan needs. Before you can utter another syllable he slams his hips into you. You nearly howl at the overwhelming sensation. He’s definitely bigger than you expected, and you feel almost impaled on his cock. Before you can recover he pulls back and thrusts again, just as hard, and then again, and again, and again, and the combined sensation of his thumb in your ass and his giant cock ruthlessly pounding against your G spot is finally enough. Your moans get higher and higher before you start choking on them, only able to make small stutters as the orgasm finally hits you, rolls through you like a hot violent wave. Your body moves of it own accord as your muscles tense and your nerves alight. Your mind is utterly blank for dozens of blissful seconds as you come down, your cunt twitching around his fat cock as he restrains his pounding to slow, almost tender thrusts.

“Atta girl,” he says again, and somehow, despite the intense orgasm you just had, you feel a tiny throb of arousal when he does. He doesn’t remove his thumb or stop his careful thrusting, but keeps the gentle momentum as you speak between gasps.

“I’ve never been- so happy to have- such shit luck at poker.”

He chuckles.

“Oh, sweetheart, that had nothin’ to do with luck. I was counting cards the whole time.”

You raise your head up from the table and look over your shoulder at Stan.

“What?!”

“Yeah, sorry sugar.” He thrusts a little harder, making you press your forehead against the table as his cock wracks your sensitive cunt. “You never stood a chance.”

Another throb.

"Oh yeah?"

You gather up all your remaining strength and prop yourself up on your elbows, brush the hair out of your face, and turn back over your shoulder to Stan once more.

“Bet you can’t do it again.”

[topperscumslut]

After Hours (William Afton x Reader) (SMUT) (NSFW)

Summary: The year is 1984, and while hunting for a job you come across an eccentric pizzeria with a devilishly handsome owner.

Warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), choking, daddy kink, praise kink, dirty talk, adultery, getting fucked raw by your middle aged boss

Word Count: 4.2k

It was official - you were desperate for a job. Preferably some sort of waitress position where you could be as bubbly and charismatic as possible and get tons of tips by the end of your shift. And so you’d dolled yourself all up, slipped on your cute new sweater, and hit the town to apply to every sit down restaurant in your vicinity, only to be told that nowhere was currently hiring for a waitress and to come back in a few weeks. It wasn’t until the sun had already set hours before and you’d sunken into your driver’s seat, defeated, that you saw it - Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza.

The pizza place had opened just a year before, but the original location - Fredbear’s Family Diner - had opened years ago back when you were in high school, and had suspiciously closed for good last year as well. Though it was impossible to know the truth, it was just as impossible to avoid the rumors. You’d heard through the grapevine that two kids had died at Fredbear’s last year, you’d heard that they were murdered, or even killed by the animatronics themselves. While you didn’t know what, if any of it, was actually true, the place still did give you the creeps. When the pizzeria had opened the year before it had been a massive hit, a lively place for families with a consistent flow of customers, but now its popularity had noticeably gone down, though it wasn’t completely barren. The restaurant still had plenty of business to keep afloat, and as much as your gut was telling you no, you needed a job. And it was right there.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, parking in front of Freddy’s and willing yourself out of the car before you changed your mind. Worry consumed you as you made your way through the parking lot. It wasn’t just the rumors that worried you, you had assured yourself as much as you could that they were probably just bullshit urban legends and you were just being paranoid. While being a waitress did seem like something you’d be good at, this place was targeted highly at families, and you were anxious about being able to handle working with that many kids. At least you would have less sleazy old men hitting on you with their wife and kids right there, right?

As you made your way inside you were greeted by a hostess attempting to seat you and take your order before you specified that you’re looking for a job application rather than a meal.

“Let me go ask my boss,” she told you before disappearing behind a door, leaving you to take in with your eyes the interior of the pizzeria, where just a couple families sat amongst the many tables spread across the dining area. You found yourself enamored with and a bit unnerved by the stage where the animatronics were singing, so entranced by it that you didn’t even notice the handsome older man that was now standing in front of you until he broke the silence, making you jump slightly.

“I heard you’re looking for a job?”

“Oh!” you stumbled for a second, taking in the gorgeous man now towering over you. “Y-yeah, I am. Are you hiring waitresses currently?”

“Lucky for you, we are,” he said before extending his hand to you, “I’m the owner. William Afton.”

As he leaned in offering you his hand, you were overtaken by the scent of his cologne. You couldn’t place what exactly it smelled of, but it was unmistakably sexy. He smelled fresh and clean, which only sold his sexy put-together businessman persona even more.

You shook his hand nervously yet firmly, your body heating up a bit at the contact. “(Y/N) (L/N). It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Afton.”

“Please,” he mused with a smile that made your cheeks flush a bit, “call me William.”

You attempted to fight back the heat overtaking your face and collect yourself. “Oh, um, alright. May I have an application please?”

“I don’t think there’s any need for that,” William replied, “Why don’t you just come to my office for a little interview, and then I’ll let you know if you have the job, okay?”

You nodded, a bit nervous about doing an interview on the spot and even more nervous about being alone with William in his office. You couldn’t deny that he was insanely attractive, but he was also old enough to be your dad, and might soon be your boss. You had to pull yourself together.

William led you to his office before pulling out a chair for you in front of his desk. He asked all the standard interview questions - job experience, strengths and weaknesses, blah blah blah- but you could barely focus on the questions from the undeniable tension in the air every time your eyes met his. You could tell that there was something you were both leaving unspoken, and couldn’t help but wonder if you were crazy for thinking he might want you too. That’s insane, you thought to yourself, he’s been nothing but respectful and professional so far. Stop being delusional.

But you knew your eyes couldn’t be mistaking you when you saw his eyes float from your own to slowly down your body and back up again as he concluded the interview.

“Well, (Y/N), I think you sound perfect for the job,” William said with a smile, “When can you start?”

It’s like you didn’t even think before blurting out “tomorrow.” Had you seriously just taken a job at this murder pizzeria with a hot boss that’s twice your age? You knew you probably should have gone home and thought about it first, but there was no going back now.

“Perfect,” William smirked, “How does 5pm for training sound?”

You obliged and thanked William, telling him to have a good night before making your way out of his office, through the pizzeria, and back to your car.

You had spent the next evening training with William, and had briefly met the other owner, Henry Emily, who you were told wasn’t at the restaurant near as often as William. You couldn’t help but wonder if that had anything to do with the rumors you’d heard, something you’d once again tried to push from your mind.

The next couple weeks passed without much to speak of, you gradually got used to the job at Freddy’s and you were undeniably a great waitress. Your charisma and bubbly personality pulled in a good amount of tips just as you were hoping, and you actually enjoyed your job. You loved joking around with families while waiting their tables, and seeing the kids’ faces light up as they watched the animatronics perform. And it certainly didn’t hurt getting to see William every day, either.

You knew your feelings for your boss were wrong, and that he probably didn’t feel the same way and would be deeply disgusted if he ever knew. Surely he wasn’t attracted to you like that… right? It was completely inappropriate, after all. And somehow that just made the thought of it so much hotter.

One night you ended up working the closing shift, something you had done a few times before and were pretty comfortable with. The only thing that was different this time was that it was just you and William tonight. The two of you alone in the restaurant… the thought of it made your heart race.

As you were just about ready to leave and finishing cleaning the last few tables, William called you into his office. You couldn’t help but panic a bit at his request. Were you in trouble? You didn’t think you had done anything wrong…

“(Y/N), you’ve been here a few weeks now, and I just wanna talk about how you’ve been doing so far at the restaurant.”

You swallowed hard, unable to shake your nerves. “Yes?”

“You have been… phenomenal so far,” William assured you. “I really do mean it, I don’t say this lightly. The customers love you, the kids absolutely adore you, and you always bring a positive attitude to work. There’s just… something about you…” he mused, letting his eyes linger on your body for just a second.

It really was supposed to be just a work meeting. Strictly professional, William had told himself, but now? Seeing you sitting down in front of him where he had the perfect view of your barely exposed cleavage in your sexy little waitress uniform, knowing that it��s just the two of you here, that he can do whatever he wants to you and no one will ever find out, it was too much for him. He couldn’t take it anymore and finally relinquished all control, letting himself be truly honest with you.

“And I want to thank you, (Y/N),” he smiled sincerely.

“Thank me? What for?”

“I…” he sighed, allowing himself to become vulnerable, “I’ve been having a rough time lately. I’m sure you heard… I lost my son last year.”

Holy shit, you thought to yourself, is this whole murdered kids thing actually real? Could William’s son be one of the kids allegedly killed at the old location?

“I-I’m so sorry, Mr. Aft- William,” you corrected yourself, “I can’t imagine how hard that must be.”

He breathed in deeply, fighting back a tear stinging his right eye. “It is. My family hasn’t been doing well, my marriage hasn’t been doing well…”

Wait, he’s married? you thought, Oh my God, I seriously need to get over him already!

“This is all to say, I appreciate seeing you here everyday, reminding the kids - and reminding me - that Freddy’s is supposed to be a happy place. I love knowing when I’m having a bad day at home I can come here and that beautiful smile will cheer me right up, so thank you, (Y/N). You have no idea just how much you’ve brought me back to life lately. You… make me feel young again.”

You could feel yourself blush beet red to your hairline, feeling more than a little bit guilty for a smile that you’re unable to suppress. You knew it was wrong, he’s your boss, he’s married, he’s so much older than you, and that’s not even getting into the lore behind this place that you were still a little bit scared to find out. But you couldn’t keep denying it. You wanted him. And now you were almost certain that he wanted you, too.

“C’mere, honey,” William beckoned you over to him as you shakily made your way out of your seat in front of his desk to behind the desk with him. Your breath caught in your throat as he stood up to meet you and draped the back of your head with his hand, softly petting your hair as he leaned down to where his face met yours. “Kiss me.”

You knew you should, but you just couldn’t fight it anymore. You just did as you were told. William tilted your chin up to meet his lips, and suddenly you were putty in his hand as his lips found yours. You swore you could ever so faintly taste whiskey on his tongue as it entered your mouth. His other hand started to feel its way down your figure, groping at you and gently digging his nails into your soft flesh. You moaned in his mouth and he let out a cocky chuckle against your lips.

“You wanted this, didn’t you?” he teased, to which you nodded innocently. “Little slut. I had a feeling you did, but you know I’m a gentleman, so I didn’t want to make a move til I was really sure. But the way you looked at me when I praised you… fuck…”

“You liked that, daddy?” you mused teasingly.

“Fuck, yeah,” William groaned. “On your knees, gorgeous. Now.”

You willingly obeyed, thankful that your hair was already pulled up out of your face from your shift. William unbuckled his pants and dropped them to his ankles before lowering his boxers, exposing his throbbing cock. It was bigger and much more veiny than you had expected, girthy and swollen and dripping precum. He brushed his thumb against your lower lip, gently opening your mouth before replacing his thumb with his cock. You enthusiastically took his length as deep as possible down your throat, massaging the base with your hands. William let out a stifled grunt and a whispered “fuck” as he felt the warmth and wetness of your mouth and the gentle movements of your tongue around his tip, holding your head in place with his hand.

He continued to grab your head and guide your face against his dick, ruthlessly fucking your face as you started to soak through your panties while waiting for your turn to be pleasured. You had been tired after work most evenings lately and therefore had been unfortunately neglecting your sexual needs for the past couple weeks, which was almost torture working with William. He always had such an effect on your body, and you always said tonight was the night you would take care of it, you’d make yourself moan and squeal in pleasure and get that much needed release while picturing William, and yet every night you had practically crashed by the time you made it through your front door. By now, your need was unavoidable, and you couldn’t help but hope that William would be willing to return the favor.

“Fuck, babydoll, you’re doing so good,” William moaned, “you’re a good little whore, aren’t you?”

You nodded and hummed in agreement, the vibration making William throw his head back and curse in pleasure before spilling his salty seed down your throat. You happily swallowed as William started to come down from his high, breathing heavily and groaning in satisfaction.

“Fuck, princess, if your mouth is that good, then I can’t wait to see how good your pussy feels,” he kneeled down to face you. “You really are beautiful. You’re like my own personal pretty little fuckdoll, aren’t ya, sweetheart?”

“Yes, daddy” you purred innocently. “All yours.”

William pulled his pants back up but left them undone, clearly anticipating more. You swallowed heavily, nervous but more than willing to find out what was to come.

“On the desk, baby,” William ordered, and you obliged, sitting on his desk and spreading your legs so he could look up your skirt and see your clothed pussy in your now soaked panties.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous…” he sighed, spreading your thighs wider as he settled his face between your legs. “These thighs are fucking perfect. And this beautiful pussy… you’re so wet for me already…”

He began to softly massage your pussy through your panties, making you whimper in pleasure.

“Such pretty fucking noises. I can’t wait to hear what noises you make when my face is buried in your cunt, huh? Does this pretty little pussy need eaten?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whined.

He chuckled arrogantly as he slowly removed your panties, his thumb quickly finding your bare clit. “I thought so,” he slowly rubbed your clit in tight circles as you whined in pleasure, William swooning at your noises. “Aww, that feels good, doesn’t it, baby?”

You could only whimper in response, to which William lightly grabbed you by the throat and looked at you with a dominant gleam in his eyes. “Use your words, doll.”

“Mmm, yesss, it feels really good daddy,” you moaned out, gasping as he quickened his pace.

“Good girl,” William replied. “Fuck, you’re so pretty when I’m pleasuring you.” He continued massaging your clit while kissing your thighs, inching his way towards your pussy with his mouth.

“Please use your mouth…” you begged, “I-I’m getting close already… I’m not going to last too much longer…”

“As you wish, princess,” William obliged, his tongue finding your clit and making you throw your head back in pleasure as he generously licked and sucked on it. He gently slipped his tongue inside of you, massaging your walls and eliciting a moan as you squirmed against his touch. You couldn’t contain your explicit cries of pleasure as his tongue found your g spot and massaged it mercilessly. William slipped his tongue out of you, returning its attention to your clit, and when you whined for more he replaced his tongue inside of you with a finger, quickly finding the spongy tissue inside of you once again and making your eyes roll back in pleasure.

As you squirmed in ecstasy on his desk, William’s other hand holding you down by one of your thighs, he slipped another finger inside of you, stretching you out perfectly and making you scream his name as the sensations overtook your body. Your pussy clenched around his fingers and you could hardly believe that you were this fucked out of your mind already on just his fingers and tongue. You couldn’t imagine just how delirious on his cock you would be if he were to shove that in you next.

William continued fingering you at an agonizingly teasing pace, you begging him to speed up, to which he finally obliged once you called him “daddy” again.

The feeling of William licking fast circles on your clit while fucking you senseless with his fingers was almost too much for you to bear. Every time he stroked your g spot felt heavenly, and your cries of pleasure were at this point completely incoherent. Suddenly he pulled his face away from your pussy, making you whine at the lack of contact.

“You’ll do as you're told, right, baby?” William asked, his fingers still working inside of you.

“Yes, daddy,” you panted, nearly out of breath from how good he was finger fucking you.

“Good,” he smirked devilishly, “Then you won’t cum until I tell you you can.”

“I-I can’t,” you whined, “I’m not going to be able to last!”

“You better,” was all William said before resuming licking your clit expertly, his two fingers now moving faster than ever inside of you.

You struggled hard to fight back your impending orgasm as William worshipped your pussy, the tension down there now bordering on painful. You needed a release desperately, but you couldn’t cum without William’s permission.

“I can’t hold it any longer… I’m going to cum whether you let me or not…” you whimpered, overcome by pleasure.

“Hold it, babygirl. I know you can do it,” William purred, still fingering you senseless.

“I can’t!” you cried out, overwhelmed by pleasure, “I’m gonna cum!”

“Naughty girl,” William growled, shoving a third finger inside of you and pressing down on your g spot hard. You immediately unraveled on his fingers, no longer able to hold back anymore. You moaned at the sensation as you clenched around his fingers, your juices dripping down his hands. He gently removed his fingers before sticking them in his mouth to taste you fully, licking them clean one by one as he looked you in the eyes.

“You taste fucking delicious,” he moaned.

“And I could say the same about you,” you flirted back.

William made his way back up to your face before taking it in his hands and kissing you deeply, nibbling at your bottom lip and exploring your mouth with his tongue. He started to grope and play with your breasts, massaging your nipples through your uniform before dipping beneath your shirt and into your bra to stimulate the hard nubs directly. You whimpered at the sensation and started to feel your pussy getting wet for him again, craving his massive cock in your walls.

“You’re such a pretty doll, aren’t you?” William purred in a raspy low voice, “my pretty girl.”

“Yes, daddy, I’m all yours,” you sighed sweetly, batting your eyes.

“Fuck, I need to be inside of you,” he groaned, and with that he was flipping you over and bending you over his desk, revealing his member once again before pulling your panties aside and lining himself up to enter you from behind.

William gently entered you, sighing in bliss as he felt your folds envelope him before entering your walls that clenched him so perfectly. You gasped as he slowly sheathed himself inside of you, filling you fully. He started to pound into you, not just thrusting but grinding against your walls, hitting your g spot at the perfect angle, slowly at first but then faster and faster, leaving you a cockdrunk mess underneath him begging him to make you cum again.

William continued to abuse your g spot while pulling your hair, pounding your pussy from behind and moaning as you clenched on him. His pace was urgent, and you could tell he had been as desperate for your pussy as you had for his cock. He cried out expletives and praises of you as you tightened your walls around him, causing his eyes to roll back as he groaned out just how perfect your pussy is.

“You have the best fucking pussy I’ve ever fucked, baby. Mmmm… so fucking good.” William groaned in ecstasy, continuing to rut against your pussy as you cried out in pleasure, tears now streaming down your face from how fucking good it felt. He pulled your hips back hard against his cock, eliciting a scream of pleasure from you that cued him to do it again. William continued holding you by your hips and forcing you onto his cock, hitting spots inside of you you never knew possible and making you see stars. It was like William’s cock was molded perfectly for your pussy. No guy your age had ever made you feel this good before.

He honed in on your g spot, doing everything in his power to maximize your pleasure and make you cum hard for him again. His massive dick hit the spot in you perfectly every time, and you couldn’t even think straight as he flooded your brain with pleasure. William fucking you senseless was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, the sensation was heavenly. Before you knew it you couldn’t take anymore and waves of intense pleasure and relief overtook you as William fucked you through your second orgasm, him emptying out inside of you as you pussy tightened on his cock.

Both of you moaned out each other’s names in pleasure as you rode out your highs together, William fucking you harder and faster than ever as he painted your walls with his cum. Once you’d both finished he slowly pulled out of you, watching his seed leak out of your hole. He flipped you back around so you were once again sitting on his desk in front of him, before kissing you passionately once more. You kissed him back with as much energy as you could muster, almost completely spent from him using your body as a fucktoy.

“I knew there was something special about you,” William smirked mischievously, tilting your chin up as he looked in your eyes, “now I know what it is. You’re my perfect little slut, aren’t you, baby?”

“Yes I am, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he cooed, playing with your hair. “Daddy’s slut.” He wrapped his hand around your throat gently, “so fucking obedient, too.”

You looked him deeply in the eyes as he tightened his grip around your throat, “I’ll always obey you, daddy.”

“Good slut,” he let go suddenly, kissing your lips once again, except softly and gently this time, rather than rough with desire like he had been all night. He helped you get to your bearings, sliding your panties back into place and redoing his pants and belt all while keeping his lips hungrily pressed to yours.

You blushed as you finally pulled away before spotting the clock on the wall, realizing how late it had gotten already.

“Shit- I should probably be getting home.”

“If you say so, doll,” William replied, placing one final peck against your lips, “I suppose I’ll get going as well. Would you like me to walk you to your car? You never know what sort of dangerous people are out this time of night.”

“I’d really like that, thank you,” you smiled sweetly as William took your hand and guided you out of his office, out of the building and into the parking lot. When the two of you found your car he pulled you in close, pressing your body against the car with his own while kissing you passionately once again. You kissed back, satisfied, and still finding yourself intoxicated by the scent of his cologne. William opened the door for you and watched as you got into your car before uttering a courteous goodbye. You returned the affection and turned to drive off, but as you went to close the door, William stopped you.

“And darling?”

“Yes?”

William shot you a devilish smirk, taking your body in with his eyes for a final time that night. “I can’t wait til next time I close with you again.”

[gaiathemexicanbeauty]

it only takes a taste | mike schmidt x reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: none! this is just pure fluff and maybe kind of slowburnish lol

this was loosely based off of it only takes a taste from the waitress musical! :3

idk i just really like the idea of late nights with mike even if he's too tired to even think straight lmao

also don't ask what time period this takes place in, i was born in 2004 and know like 2 things about the 70s-90s or whenever the movie takes place bc its never explicitly mentioned

i also do not regularly bake or cook so do not be afraid to go to my comment section and tell me if something sounds off

i love this man ok, i have said it 1000 times already but i've been in love with him ever since i first saw him when i was like 12 or 13 and was even more so obsessed with rebornica's mike design for YEARS. 12 year old me would have an aneurism if she knew about the fnaf movie

you let out a long yawn, one hand reaching up cover your mouth so as not to potentially ruin the mood of any customers around; granted, there was only two and they were graveyard shifters from somewhere outside of town but customers are customers. you'd been working at sparky's for a couple of months now, figuring it was an easy way to make some cash and keep food on the table. of course, you hadn't accounted for the very long hours that passed where you half debated trying to sneak away since no was around from 2-4:00 am: your boss would kill you, though, and you wanted to stay employed.

soft oldies music plays in the background as you glance over at the clock ticking away on the wall. just as you move to grab a rag to clean the counters for the 5th time during your shift, you hear the bell above the entrance jingle and don't even have to look up to know who it is.

mike wasn't a regular at first, just someone who popped in at random and very quietly asked for a coffee. after a while of starting a new job, he started coming in at almost 11:00 pm everyday and always asking for the same thing: just a plain, black coffee. "seriously?" you had said with a smirk the first time he said his order to you, your eyes widening at the attitude you had just given a customer. fortunately, mike was quick to respond with a tired but good natured laugh, his hands folded in front of him. "i'm all ears if you have other recommendations." he mumbled with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, giving you instant relief.

now, it was just clockwork. "hey." mike sighs with a soft sigh, rubbing a hand over his eyes as he takes a seat at a chair by the counter you were standing behind. "coffee machine is kind of acting up tonight, you're gonna have to give it a minute. want anything else while you wait?" you say as you approach the counter, giving him a quick smile. mike is about to decline your offer, his lips parting to say something before his eyes land on something on the farther end of the counter. "what about that? still good?" "you're just in time. i was going to take the rest of it home." you say with a smile, walking over to the cake stand holding an apple pie with only 3 slices left of it. you take the lid off to plate it, handing it over to mike with a hum before bringing him utensils. you don't even get the chance to bring up to him that the slices have been sitting there for a couple of hours, blinking in shock at the way he's quick to start eating.

you turn your back to start taking down the chalkboard advertising the special from the day before, giving mike his one moment of quiet you were sure he needed. you start to think about what your day will consist of once you're done with your shift, dreading having to clean your room before you can actually sleep. "did you make this?" "yeah. why, is it bad?" you say with a chuckle, turning to look at mike again; your eyes widen a bit at the way mike is looking at you, his own eyes looking at you like he can't believe what he just put it in his mouth. "no, no, it's..it's really good, like. really good." your cheeks redden a bit at the sudden compliment, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear as you occasionally glance at him enjoying the pie you'd made; you wouldn't say you were amazing at cooking but you definitely knew enough to make a meal that would do more than just feed you.

it also didn't help that you'd been harboring a crush on mike for the past month. that you were aware of, he didn't have a partner of any kind but that might have been more to do with the fact he didn't have time for one than anything else. you at first brushed it off as just not having contact with anyone your age that late at night, just enjoying his company when nights got lonely. but you couldn't deny the way you would style your hair a bit differently or try a new perfume in the hopes of getting a compliment from mike; to your absolute pleasure, he almost always pointed it out. now to hear this sudden praise for your cooking took you out of your element.

"thanks, really, but i make it all the time. i can make thousands like it and they'll all be the same." you say with a light chuckle, crossing your arms against your chest as you look over at the cake stand sheepishly. "then maybe you should consider getting a day job making these instead." mike says between bites, giving you a playful smile. you can't help but scoff despite the smile on your face, looking over at mike again. "well, if it's that easy, maybe YOU should quit your job and come and join me. keep me company." the two of you have a quiet laugh, your cheeks reddening at the indirect compliment you had paid him. once his plate is empty, you take it away from him just to have an excuse to do something with your hands (also to get away from the almost fond look that mike was giving you right now, definitely not on par for him). there's a tense silence between the two of you before mike speaks up, clearing his throat when he speaks. "uh, i tried making that at home. the pie, i mean. i don't remember what kind it was right now, but it definitely didn't end as well as that." he says with a nervous laugh, hands folded in front of him again as you hear the coffee machine start to pour out his drink.

"well, what exactly did you do wrong?" with surprisingly no hesitance, mike goes on to tell the story of how sure he was about this recipe he'd seen in a catalogue, going above and beyond to make sure this "stupid thing" (his words) came out right. little did he know leaving his creation unattended for even a second would result in smoke pouring out of the oven and having to throw out a charred-black pastry; "and then abby went and acted like we could just go and do it all over again and.." mike starts, hands waving around uncharacteristically as he finished off his story. he caught the way you were trying to hold back a laugh, fingers pressed to your lips that were etched into a small smile. "it's ok, you can laugh all you want. i never tried doing it again." you can't help the laugh that leaves you once he gives you his full permission, still trying to keep your voice down. "i-i'm sorry, really.." you giggle once you've calmed down, rubbing your hands over your face before you start to walk around the counter to where mike is sitting. "but that's not how making a pie works. you can't just leave it like that or give up on the process that easily."

mike makes a face that says 'i'm listening', shrugging his shoulders when you sit on the stool next to him. "making a pie is like.." you start with a sigh, hands propping up your chin in thought as you look up at the clock. "you just know when some things feel right. if something is too much or too little, whether you need to start again or not. lord knows i've had to redo entire pies because the crust wasn't flaky enough or the filling didn't taste like apples enough." you say, chuckling a bit as you remember all the times you'd slaved away for almost entire days trying to nail down the perfect home recipe. you take a minute to think again, sitting back a bit as you smooth down your apron tied around your waist. "and it also doesn't help if you make something just to make something. when you bake or just cook a plain old steak, you have to make it like you're crafting a story or making a song. all of my best meals were made with someone or something in mind."

your cheeks go red again when you realize the very unprompted ramble you went on, a nervous laugh leaving you as you look down at your lap. "sorry, you totally don't have to-" "no, no, i-" the two of you jump a bit at the way you both try to speak first, sheepish smiles tugging at your lips before you go quiet again. the bell above the door jingles and you don't have to look up to know the two of you are alone now. "i like hearing about that sort of stuff. i really only hear about it when i'm here with you and it's..nice. different." your heart soars and you can only hope that mike can't somehow feel or hear it, trying to give him a warm smile without saying something you'll regret. you get up from your seat with a when he checks his watch, knowing that's code for 'i need to go' even before he stands. you're almost sure he'll leave without saying anything which you are simultaneously grateful for and hoped he wouldn't do, already busying yourself with some other menial task. "hey."

you look up almost as soon as he speaks, seeing the smile tugging at his lips and not able to contain your own. "save those leftovers for me. i hope it still tastes like you were trying to make it for me when i get back." he says, a smug look in his eyes as your lips part a bit in shock. you try to call out to him before he jogs out to his car, taking off accordingly.

-> ta da its done! :D <-

this was honestly less romantic than i wanted it to be but i promise that my brain is racked with thoughts of him literally EVERY DAY so mayhaps i can write something else that's more up to par one of these days

but thank yall for reading! :D i haven't been able to pump out a oneshot like this for a while and it felt good to write something longer than a couple of paragraphs, i have missed this account sm 🐺💗 love yall and i hope that you all are having a fantastic day!

[blarshwritezz]

PPHI AGAIN its yours truly the anon with the ungodly amount of typos ken i just ask like a fic wuth the spy reader x mafia boss but its just the mafia boss in denial about his feelings for the reader? and funny interactions of the reader's mom and the mafia boss (she doesn't know about the reador or the mafia boss's occupation so they just hide it by saying their co workers in a normal office job and the reader gets called a mama's bou by the oc ty again)

typos hmm.. yummy😋😋😋

🦀

How cute!

Yandere Mafia Boss x Spy Reader p3

M yan x M reader

TW - general yandere behavior

Part 1 - Part 2

"And who's this handsome young man, sweetie? Your new boyfriend?" Your mom asked, pinching his cheek. If only she knew this man was one of the most dangerous in the country.

But it was a pretty complicated question. What was he exactly? You couldn't exactly tell her he was holding you hostage. That would only worry her. But you couldn't confidently say he was your boyfriend as he might get angry. You've asked him what you were before, but his answer was vague and he quickly changed the subject.

"Well um, he's my-"

"Business partner." He cut you off. Even in front of your mother his cold and menacing aura didn't waver, but she didn't seem to mind.

"Sure. Purely business. I totally believe that." She winked and chuckled a bit, letting go of your cheek. "Well don't just stand there. You two come in, get comfortable. I'll bring in some water."

Your mother left to the kitchen, letting you two sit down. He kept an arm around you possessively, trapping you between him and the arm of the sofa.

You were actually rather shocked that he agreed to let you come here. According to him, the less people were looking for you the better. But it almost seemed like he had some other motive.

Almost.

Because he did. He had to grow close to your family and find out what they were like. Not because he wanted them to be his in-laws, of course not! Just so he knew what kind of leverage he had against you.

"Alright darlin's, here's some water!" Your mom re-entered the room, seething down three glasses of iced water. One for you, him, and herself. "Now tell me, what's going on with my baby? You never call anymore!"

"There's been an important project at work. We've hardly gotten any free time." He covered for you. It wasn't surprising how he could easily come up with these things. He was able to lie so easily.

"Oh sweetie, please tell me you've been taking care of yourself."

"Don't worry ma'am. Your son is being very well taken care of."

Did he have to sound so sexy saying that?! There was no need for him to make it sound like the two of you were shaking up. Well, you were, but your mom didn't need to know that!

"Now sweetie, why isn't this kind man your husband yet?"

"Ma!" You exclaimed at your mother's sudden question, your face turning beet red. You could have sworn you saw a small smile and a light dusting of pink over his cheeks, but he stayed composed.

That was just the beginning of the night. It was filled with laughter, joy, and your mom embarrassing you more times than you could count. You swear she was doing it on purpose!

But you really did love nights like this. Nights when you could just forget time was passing and relax. Have a good, home-cooked meal and share time with the closest people to you.

"You know," He spoke, placing a hand on your thigh as he drove the two of you home. "you're such a mama's boy."

You let out a small chuckle and looked out the window, met with darkness broken by old streetlights. "Yeah...I guess I am."

Feels like it's been too long since I've written something SFW, thank you 🦀 anon 😭

[jpitha]

Between the Black and Gray 3

First / Previous / Next

Ma-ren was busy.

Helena had called out so, they were down a server during the lunch rush. Ti'ka helped spread the load, so it wasn't insurmountable, but it was busier than she had been in a while. She had told Fen to stay home today just to give things another day to cool down so Ma-ren felt additional obligation to make some extra money.

A bell sounded, and an unseen hand from the kitchen slid out a plate of pancakes for that new human eating outside. Ma-ren grabbed her plate and the coffee pot and strode out.

"Here are your pancakes, sorry for the wait! Would you like another coffee?" She placed the plate in front of him and made sure he had napkins and syrup.

"I would love another cup, thanks so much." He grinned widely as she poured. "Hey, I'm sorry for staring earlier, you just look familiar."

"Oh it's all right. Maybe I just have that kind of face." Ma-ren flicked her tail and looked back towards the kitchen. "You're new here right? When did you arrive?"

He finished chewing the pancakes and swallowed. "Just came in a couple hours ago on a freighter. I'm going to see if I can find some work and earn enough for passage on to the next station."

"Oh? Where are you headed?" Ma-ren switched to Colonic smoothly. Then, she realized what she was doing, shook her head, and her ears twitched. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry. I apologize, you don't have to tell me your business."

He chuckled and waved his hand, dismissively. "I haven't had a chance to speak Colonic in years. It feels good, like dusting an old cabinet. "No, no it's fine. I guess I'm making my way to Lemilar."

"Well, good luck on your journey!"

"Thanks Ma-ren, I'll try." He looked down at his food and then back up. "Actually, Ma-ren, can you recommend a hostel around here? I need a place to stay for a week or two."

Ma-ren laughed. "Friend, there's no place like that for humans or K'laxi here."

The human looked around. "Yeah, I kind of got that impression from the welcome wagon down on the promenade."

"Oh? Did you meet Tam? How much did he shake you down for?"

"He tried for one hundred Stars, but he didn't get any."

Ma-ren blinked. "Wait, you beat up Tam?"

The human shook his head quickly. "No! I just dodged his half-assed punches until he got tired and left."

"Oh I wish I could have been there for that! Someone needs to take Tam down a peg or two. He goes after humans and K'laxi, and not just newbies on the promenade. He comes up here and causes trouble, and when security comes, they harass us." Ma-ren looks back at the kitchen. "Look, I have to get back to work, but anyone who can take on Tam and walk away deserves praise. I've got a couch, you can crash with Fen and I for a day or two while you figure things out."

He blinked. "Are you sure? That's awfully generous. You just met me, I don't even think you know my name."

"Hey, we take care of our own up here. Ancestors know nobody else will. There's no reason for you to sleep out in the common if you don't have to." She winked. "So, what's your name then, friend?"

He suck out his right hand. "I'm Gord. Pleased to meetcha."

Ma-ren leaned back. "What's the hand for?"

Gord looked at her, and then at his hand, and put it down slowly. "Don't worry about it. It's an old greeting."

Ma-ren's ears twitched again. "Well Gord, I'm on for another couple of hours and then I'll take you back to our place. I'll bring you the check for the pancakes, but I can keep the coffee going so the boss doesn't wonder why you're still here."

Gord finished his food and took out a battered pad and read while sipping three or four coffees while Ma-ren finished her shift. When she was finished, she walked out in her street clothes. "Ready Gord?"

Gord snapped the pad shut and picked up his pack. "Sure thing Ma-ren. Lead the way."

She took him to her apartment over on the other side of the floor. As they approached her building, they passed Da'reni sitting out front reading again, his gray muzzle buried in his pad. Ma-ren waved. "Hey Da'reni, I've got a boarder for a couple of days. New arrival."

Da'reni grunted and flicked his eyes up. He did a double take and stared. His ears flattened, and he looked like he was going to say something. Then, he fluffed his fur and grunted and went back to his pad. "Careful, newbie. You've got that kind of face. The one that gets security called up here."

Gord raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Ma-ren's tail flicked. "Don't worry Gord, that's just how Da'reni is. Come on, you can come up and meet Fen and get settled.

Ma-ren bounded up the stairs while Gord walked more carefully. When she got to the apartment door, she touched the locking stud and the door buzzed and opened with a loud click. "Fen hon, I'm back and I bought a friiiiiiiiend!"

There was bustling from the kitchen area. "Oh, who is it? Did you drag Helena back again?"

Ma-ren laughed. "Nah, newbie off a freighter. Get this, he managed to dodge getting beat up by Tam!"

Fen leaned around the corner, face covered in flour and a towel draped across her shoulder. "Okay, you win. Hey newbie, I'm Fen."

He waved. "Gord."

"Sit Gord, you drink tea? Too bad, I'm making some. I'll have cookies out in an hour."

Gord, Fen and Ma-ren sat around their small table, drinking tea while Gord brought Fen up to speed and telling them about dodging Tam.

"Shit Gord, I know how hard Tam can hit-" Fen rubbed her cheek "-first hand, and the fact that you dodged him is nothing short of impressive."

"Oh, it wasn't so much, but thanks all the same. He really telegraphs his moves, and I know that a Gren really only has three or four punches in them." Gord sipped his tea politely.

Gord put his cup down. "So Fen, Ma-ren how long have you been here? Sure seems like they are trying to get all the humans and k'laxi to move along."

Fen and Ma-ren shared a look and then laughed. "Oh Gord, we were born and raised here. Most of the time, the station authorities ignore us. Our parents came in on Spyglass and these days it's not going anywhere so we just... stayed."

Gord blinked. "Wait, Spyglass? The Starjumper? She's here? Where?"

Fen raised an eyebrow. "Docking bays thirty three through forty. We have a big fundraiser every year to pay the docking fees. We probably should just scrap it, but we can't bring ourselves to do it. It saved all of us."

Gord looked at them in horror. "Scrap her? No, you can't do that! Have you even asked her what she thinks of that?"

Ma-ren looked at Gord carefully. "Her? Gord, Spyglass is a ship. A creaky, old, cold, human made ship. It's probably the oldest thing on this station by a long shot. It's not alive."

Gord boggled. He shut his mouth and took a deep breath in, and then out again though his nose. He picked up his tea and Ma-ren noticed his hand was shaking. "Gord? What are you not telling us?"

At that, Gord smiled. "Quite a lot, actually. But that's neither here nor there." He sipped his tea, took another cleansing breath and seemed to collect himself. "Can we go over to Spyglass? Can we go in her?"

Fen shrugged. "I mean, it-she's cold. The reactors failed decades ago, but she's not like, guarded. We used to play there as kids."

"Will you take me there? It's important. I need to see something." For the first time since they met, Ma-ren noticed that Gord was nervous.

"S-sure Gord. We can head over." Fen looked up at the clock over the stove. "Curfew isn't for a few cycles, let's go now."

[baskingsol]

Secret's out, sort of

pairing: eventual!OC x Geto Suguru X Gojo Satoru

summary: Yami and Gojo take the students out for a group mission, arguments/flirting ensue

“Everyone ready?” Satoru asks, ushering the group of students out of the school van. “This is where we’ll be training for the day.”

A five-story abandoned school stands in front of the group of nine people. The decrepit state and overgrown shrubbery gave no doubts that this place would be something out of a textbook ghost site, not to account for the actual reports of multiple cursed spirits lingering around the building.

“Expecting to show off your technique today?” Satoru asks quietly, pointing down to one of the blade sheaths sitting on either side of Yami’s belt. “Those are some interesting weapons.”

“Gifts from a job I did years ago,” Yami mutters, shooting her eyes up to stare at his bandages. “Worried I’ll outshine you to the students?”

“Oh never,” Satoru replies, a smirk growing on his face as he leans in. “I’m quite interested to see what kind of woman you are to have such respect from Yaga and to leave such a memory on Suguru.”

“Jealous I’m wooing your boss and boyfriend with just my existence?” Yami teases. “You’ll see what I can do in time, patience.” 

Gojo opens his mouth to retort to Yami’s tease but Yami whistles to grab the student’s attention. 

“We’ll be splitting up into groups to cover more groups and to not step on each other's toes when working,” Yami listed off, closing the file for the job and tossing it onto one of the seats in the van. “Ijichi will be placing the veil for us and staying a safe distance away so if anyone needs help, find another student or a teacher.”

“I’ll have the twins, Inumaki, and Panda. Maki, Yuta, and Megumi will be with Yokai.” Satoru chimes in, ruffling Megumi’s hair. “I know you’re not technically a student yet but it’d be good to see what you’ll be up to next year.” 

“Yeah yeah,” Megumi grumbled in response. “At least I get to train with someone who won’t toss me off a building again.”

“It was one time!” Satoru gasps, faking a look of hurt as the rest of the students laugh or roll their eyes at his outburst. “I already got an earful from Suguru and Yaga about it.”

“There should be no building tossing this time,” Yami laughs. “Let’s get started though so we can get back before noon.”

Gojo huffs but directs his group of students toward the left half of the school, already starting to play fight with Nanako. Yami turns to her group of students; Megumi looking generally disinterested with his hands shoved in his pockets, Yuta holding a death grip on his sheathed katana, and Maki looking to Yami for direction, leaning on her naginata. 

“Let’s get started then kids,” Yami directs, pointing towards the main entrance doors. “We’re the right half of the building so lots of ground to cover. We’ll start at the top and work down.”

The group nods in response to her directions and starts their trek to clear the levels of the school. The top floor (5th) is fairly empty, with a few fly-head curses that Megumi and Maki easily take out. The fourth floor contains more fly-head curses along with some more lower-level bug and worm-like curses. 

“You use cursed weapons?” Maki asks, pointing down to Yami’s sheaths. “I’ve never seen something like those before.”

“Yep, they’re very easy to use in close combat,” Yami explains, drawing both blades. “These are called Ulu. They were a gift I got when I did a job out of the country. Much better than the old tanto I used to have.”

“So you’ll be helping with weapons training then?” Megumi adds as Yami sheaths the blades. “Gojo and Geto don’t use weapons so there hasn’t been much training with them.”

“I can tell. Yuta, loosen your grip there bud,” Yami teases, poking the boy’s hand that holds the katana. “It’s not going to run away from you.”

“Sorry, Yokai-sensei.” Yuta apologizes, loosening a bit. “Just a little nervous for my first mission.”

“What rank are you?” Maki cuts in, shaking curse chunks off her blade. “Nothing here yet should be terrifying you.”

“He’s wearing white,” Megumi points out, petting his recently summoned divine dogs. “He might not be ranked yet since they deem him problematic.”

“Play nice you two,” Yami scolds the two black-haired students. “The higher-ups must have determined your uniform.”

“But he still has a ranking, what is it?” Maki questions. “I’m a four, and Megumi is most likely going to land in grade two when he starts.”

“I don’t know,” Yuta says, eyes flicking between Maki and Megumi. “I don’t think I was told.”

“You most likely weren’t. That’d be Gojo’s fault.” Yami sighed, rolling her eyes. “You’re a special grade, like me and Gojo.”

“What!?” Megumi and Maki yell in unionson. 

“How?” Yuta turns to Yami, mouth agape. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“You about killed everyone first day kid.” Yami laughs, patting him on the shoulder. “Rika alone makes you a special grade.”

“Even with him barely able to hold a sword?” Maki questions. 

“Yep. Curse spirit manipulation is a very rare ability. Geto is a master with manipulation of multiple spirits while others can control one spirit.” Yami explains. “There’s only about four people known to be able to control cursed spirits.”

“So Geto and Yuta,” Megumi counts on his fingers. “Whose else can do it?”

“Tsukumo Yuki is another special grade sorcerer that controls a spirit named Garuda that adds to her abilities.” Yami lists off, starting down the stairs to the third floor. “It’s an extension of her fighting style, like adding an extra sharp arm.”

“Whose the last one?” Yuta asks, following close behind with Megumi and Maki on either side of him. “It isn’t Gojo-sensei, right?”

“That man can’t even control himself, much less another spirit,” Megumi snorts.

“No, not him.” Yami laughs, stopping at the door to the third floor. “The last sorcerer is much cooler than Gojo.”

A groan sounds through the hallway as the group steps into the hallway, the remaining classroom doors shaking slightly. The divine dogs gather closer to the group of three students as Yuta grips his katana tighter again and Maki readies her naginata. Yami draws her ulus and trunks back to the students. 

“You three stay a good distance back,” Yami quietly states, pointing to the corner about thirty feet in front of them. “It’s most likely just around there.”

As Yami finishes her explanation, a loud shifting sound comes from around the corner as the creature comes into view. Its body was shaped like a massive slug, dragging its misshaped body along the hallway. Two arms grip the walls, pulling itself into the main hallway, and its blob-shaped head shifts to look down the hallway before shifting and seeing the group on the opposite end. Yami rushes the spirit as it lets out a wet growl and slashes through its arms, slicing the limbs off cleanly. The slug screams, new limbs bubbling to form out of its main body cavity as pale hands come out of a black pool in the ceiling above its head, gripping the sides of what should be its face. Quickly cutting horizontally across the body, silver blade-like slivers launch off the main ulu blades, cutting completely through the curse’s body as the pale hands above use a tanto to slice through its mouth, cutting from the maxilla up free from the rest of the body. As the pale hands retract into the ceiling, dropping the newly removed top part of the curse, Yami quickly side-steps the now-falling torso and the forming pool of sludge as the curse’s body melts. Flicking her blades clean and sheathing them, she turns and starts to walk back to the now stunned group of students, still awkwardly holding their attack position. 

“Such a mess,” Yami sighs, pushing some of her front hair back that came loose from her braid. “Everyone here good?”

“What was that?” The three students yell, the divine dogs adding in with barks for good measure. 

“Jeez, y’all are going to blow my ears out with all that.” Yami laughs, raising her hands in mock surrender, stopping about five feet away.

“So you’re….?” Maki starts and then cuts off in a half breath. 

A black pool forms above Yami as a torso sporting multiple pale arms comes down from the ceiling. Black hair spills from the head and flows to the floor, creating another black pool Yami stands in. Pale arms wrap closely around Yami, almost protectively as several outside arms brandish tantos toward the group of students. Hair strands split to reveal eyes as the pale blank head opens its mouth full of sharp teeth, lips split from ear to ear. Yami reaches up to place a hand gently on the face as it rests its chin on top of her head.

“The last curse manipulator?” Yami says. “You’d be right. Meet Kuchisake-onna.”

“The split-mouth woman?” Megumi asks. “You control the vengeful spirit Kuchisake-onna?”

“Ooo Gojo teach you all about the curse types already?” Yami questions, patting Kuchisake’s cheek, allowing her to sink back into the pools on the ceiling and floor. “I’m glad he’s taught you some of the basics already.”

“That’s why you were hired!” Maki exclaims, lowering her weapon. “You’re exactly like Yuta with Rika.” 

“Hey now not quite,” Yami laughs, finally walking back to the group. “We both have cursed spirits with us, but our techniques and forms are completely different. Plus I never had an execution order on my head.”

“No one knew of you,” Megumi sighs. “Society didn’t know of your existence. Gojo never told us even how you got hired here since not even he knew of you.”

“Tsukumo trained me and kept my existence a secret as I didn't have someone like Gojo to stop them from executing me,” Yami explains, hands on her hips. “Geto met me once years ago but didn’t know me more than a face and a name. Yaga found me through Tsukumo specifically because I can control Kuchisake-onna to train you (points at Yuta) to control Rika as a stipulation for you being released from your execution order.”

“Does Gojo know?” Yuta asks quietly, fidgeting with his katana.

“He knows I’m here to help train students and I don’t care for tradition in jujutsu society,” Yami states firmly. “Plus Yaga let him know the situation at least, just not much information about me, other than a name.”

“So us three are those know most?” Maki gestures to the three students. “At least about you?”

“Yep, don’t you feel special?” Yami laughs at the tired expressions on the kids' faces. “The rest will find out, don’t worry. Let’s just get through the rest of the floors and we can discuss more later.” 

The three kids nod as Yami leads them through the rest of the floor and the bottom two, meeting up with an equally tired group with Gojo. 

“So how’d it all go?” Satoru asks cheerfully, earning some glares from his own and Yami’s students. 

“Lots of low-level curses,” Yami replies with a shrug of her shoulders. “We had a big slug on the third floor but we dealt with it quickly.”

“Ooooo who had the honors?” Gojo teased, eyeing her group. “No one looks slimy.”

“She did.” All three reply, pointing at Yami.

“Really?” Gojo says almost surprised. “No trouble with it?”

“She handled it faster than you would have,” Megumi mutters, resulting in a squawk from Gojo. 

“Let’s just get back to school, huh kids?” Yami asks the group, resulting in a resounding ‘Yes’. “Call Ijichi to come get us and lower the veil Gojo.”

“Just boss me around, why don’t you?” Satoru murmurs as the students walk toward the veil barrier. “Like a wife. Got my kids already liking you and everything.”

“Not your wife,” Yami teases once the students are far enough away. “If you’re that jealous to see my technique, I can always give you a show.”

“A private showing of Yokai’s power?” Satoru smirks, finishing the text to Ijichi. “I’d be a fool to pass up an opportunity like that.”

“Yeah yeah keep it in your pants,” Yami goes to smack the back of Gojo’s head but is stopped by the infinity. “I can do a showing for you and the rest of the kids tomorrow for afternoon training. I’m sure Suguru would like to know too. He did keep me a secret for years.”

“I’ll let him know you’re willing to pay that favor forward,” Satoru laughs, starting a text to Suguru. 

“Gojo! Yokai!” Nanako yells from the now-falling veil. “Ijichi is here!”

“Coming!” Yami yells back. “Don’t give Suguru the wrong impression, Satoru.”

“I would never!” Satoru teases. “Do we get to see behind the mask tomorrow?”

“Let’s go Satoru,” Yami states, rolling her eyes and walking to the van as Gojo laughs behind her.

a/n: I know Geto technically has Kuchisake-onna in his arsenal but we're just gonna ignore that cause it's more interesting to have her as something like Rika.

[rinwritesfics]

Four Hours

Plot: You meet Hound while awaiting jury duty and hit it off.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1076

Author’s Note: Inspired by a four-hour wait for jury duty last year. @diviluscorner, I did it! Finally.

You sighed, shifting again in the uncomfortable chair in the hallway that was both dim and sharply lit by artificial lights. First, your entire week is upended by the call, and then they ask you to sit for most of the day to see if you’re even needed. Four hours to wait? The thought of it was exhausting, let alone the process.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, a massif with a brown harness and leash stopped to sniff, then sit at your feet. The creature’s tongue lolled out as it looked up at you as its handler caught up.

The Corrie Guard handling this reptilian creature turned to you and you froze. This one was different from the others with the fabric hanging from his helmet with sharp grey teeth painted on it. Were you about to get in trouble? Oh, stars, what did the massif think he smelled on you?

“Are you alright?” the Corrie Guard asked, his voice distorted partially by his modulator.

You chuckled nervously. “I’m fine. I just don’t relish the idea of waiting four hours to see if I’m needed or not for the jury.”

He tilted his head. “Four? That’s pretty unusual, even for this court.”

“Ugh, when one of you guys notices, that means it’s extra special,” you laughed in an attempt to seem calm. “If it wasn’t, I’m sure you wouldn’t tell me that.”

He laughed, too. “You’re right. I wouldn’t.”

You both fell into silence for a moment before he spoke again. “Got something you’d rather be doing?”

“Rather than waiting? Yeah. I’m not good at sitting on my hands and waiting. I like to be busy, and these chairs are very uncomfortable.”

“And what do you usually do?”

 “I’m a mechanic, down at Grand Old Republic Motors.” You shrugged.

He laughed again. “You must see a lot of our faces down there, then.”

You grinned. “Yeah, I do actually.”

“I take it that’s why you’re not afraid of talking to me?”

You laughed. “Well, I’ll admit, I did think for a second you were going to confront me about something. Even my sighing.”

“Of course not. Just because it’s a right to be judged by peers, doesn’t mean the system jurors are chosen through doesn’t have its snags.”

“Sure does.”

“I’m Sergeant Hound, by the way.”

You smiled. “Y/N. I think Commander Fox has mentioned you a couple times. Something about a grizzly getting his teeth around a fuel injector?”

Sergeant Hound sighed. “I was scrubbing the floor for weeks after Grizzer got himself into that mess.”

“You, I take it?” you asked the massif in front of you in amusement. He was sitting at your feet and wagging his thick tail. His tongue lolled out again and he looked ready to play.

“He’s the group’s massif, and there are a couple of them but he only listens to me, so he kind of is mine.”

You grinned. “He seems like the goodest boy.”

The sergeant nodded. “He likes to think that, but he also has a chaotic streak in him.”

The two of you talked off and on, him coming back every so often to check on you during his patrol, but eventually you were called back in. By the time you found out you had been excused and were leaving, you saw no sign of Hound, which made you a little sad. You’d run into a few Corrie Guards, as well as other battalions at your employment, but something about Hound was special. You left the building, a little forlorn at missing saying goodbye.

A couple days later, you were almost hanging upside down underneath a customer’s small personal craft, working on replacing a new manifold.

“Y/N, you’ve got another visitor!” called your boss. Usually, the visitors were part of the clone battalion. Your boss was a little biased, but hid it pretty well – other than pushing them onto you on top of your other duties.

You groaned, wanting to shout about being busy.

“Am I always meeting you when you’re in distress?” asked a voice. It was definitely a clone voice, but not what you’d expect any of them to say.

You struggled out from under the craft with the manifold in-hand and your eyes met his. This one you didn’t recognize. His hair was a little longer than the others, so his curls were better formed, and he had a gray tattoo spanning both sides of his lower jaw like a row of sharp teeth. The only things that disrupted the tattoo were four long thin scars across his right cheek and a goatee.

“Uh, hi.” You stared at his tattoo, then realized – “Sergeant Hound. It’s nice to see you.”

He grinned. “Just Hound. How did you know?”

“Your jaw matches your helmet.”

He chuckled and said, “Guilty.”

“What can I do for you, ‘just Hound’?”

He laughed again. “I just wanted to come visit. I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye the other day. My shift was over and then I came in the next day and figured out you didn’t get put on a case. I guess I missed you, is all.”

You blushed. “Missed me, huh? You didn’t know me for long.”

“Actually, my brothers talk a lot about you.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was one of the only ones who had never gotten the chance to meet you.”

“Well, I guess that means you’re not as rough on your speeder as they are.”

“I’m also one of the youngest, so give me time,” he chuckled.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck again. “Look, I don’t know if this is too sudden, but could I take you to dinner?”

You smile. “You came here to ask me on a date?”

“It’s fine if you say no -”

“Hound. I’d really like that.”

“Oh, thank the Maker. I know I told you Grizzer’s pretty specific as to who he likes, but even he was a little confused when we left and didn’t see you.”

“Oh, I see, you’re setting me up with your massif. Guess Grizzer will get the goodnight kiss.” You winked and his eyes widened.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant -”

You tossed your head back and laughed. “I’ll be done in four hours. Think you can wait that long?”

He grinned. “I think I can wait four hours with you.”

Taglist (open!): @trixie2023

Hound Concept Art:

[unidentifiedseacreature]

They find you sleeping on the job

Ahhh, Ruin DLC... you rekindle my love once again.

This is actually old but I never got around to posting it. Inspired by:

I am on my phone and I am lazy so prepare for significantly worse formatting than previous posts ✌️

Freddy 🐻

- He spots you across the mall and smiles and waves.

- He's confused when you don't react at all.

- Squinting, he realises you're asleep.

- He stands there, like 70ft (20m) away from you, trying to decide if he should wake you.

- 'They're at work, they should be working... I don't want them to get in trouble if someone else catches them asleep.'

- He decides it's best to wake you up.

- He walks over and gently shakes your shoulder.

- "Y/N?" Your eyes slowly open.

- "Superstar, you're still at work."

- Once you're up, he asks you if you've been getting enough sleep.

- For the rest of his shift, he keeps his eye out for you.

- He'll probably ask you how your sleep was every shift for the next few weeks.

Monty 🐊

- He's strolling past when he does a double take.

- He smirks when he realises you're asleep, ideas to prank you filling his head.

- Then Monty's braincells kick in and he wonders if he should wake you up.

- 'They should be working, right? But it's not my fault if Y/N gets in trouble.'

- He sits down next to you and leans his head back, glancing at you every now and then.

- Only a few minutes pass before another staff member walks past and he panics.

- "Y/N GET UP."

- You scramble to your feet and pretend you're doing something.

- When your coworker passes, you thank him, saying you had a bad sleep last night.

- He unsympathetically gives you a comment along the lines of "Get better sleep."

- "Oh yeah, great idea Monty."

- "I DON'T KNOW HOW SLEEPING WORKS."

- He decides he won't be able to use this against you in the future because screaming at you to wake you up wasn't his finest moment.

Chica 🐔

- She came looking for you to tell you something but immediately forgot what it was when she saw you asleep.

- Her first instinct was to take plenty of photos to document the occasion.

- She then plopped herself down next to you to hang.

- When you woke up, you were met with two purple eyes staring at you.

- She profusely apologises and insists she wasn't staring at you the whole time.

- You call her creepy.

- She promises not to tell anyone but she'll probably bring up the photos when talking to the other glamrocks.

- It's not like she told your boss.

Roxy 🐺

- When she sees you sleeping she's unsure if she should wake you or not.

- She sits next to you for a while, trying to think of what to say.

- She ends up nudging you awake.

- "Hey, you're still at work" she says sternly but not unkindly.

- She just awkwardly avoids eye contact until you walk off to continue your duties, trying to stay nonchalant.

- She doesn't see you any differently, but she might say "you snooze you loose" next time she beats you at Roxy Raceway.

Bonnie 🐰

- Bonnie didn't particularly want the awkwardness of waking you up.

- So he sat down next to you instead.

- Crossing his arms, he scans the pizzaplex like a watchdog, ensuring no one catches you asleep.

- "Morning, sleepyhead" he greets you when you eventually do wake up.

- "How long was I out for?" You ask.

- "At least half an hour".

- You swear and run off.

- The next time you see him, he says "Hello sleeping beauty" you glare at him but everyone else just seems confused.

- He slips you an energy drink every now and then, you have no idea how he's been getting into the vending machines.

Foxy 🦊

- I'm sorry to all Foxy lovers but he does not care.

- He'd see you sleeping in the strangest situations and would just walk past.

- You were asleep standing up, leaning on your mop and the wet floor bot cared more than he did.

- Though ever since, he has thrown a protein bar at you a few times. One of those times, he threw it full force and knocked you out, so he's not very good at what he was trying to do.

- His arm also came off when he did that if it's any consolation.

Sun ☀️

- Jingle jingle *he spots you* JINGLEJINGLEJINGLEJINGLEJINGLE.

- Unlike the others, he actually knows how to wake people up.

- "Wake up, friend! It's not nap time just yet."

- It's surprisingly pleasant to wake up to him jingling around the room, singing an original Fazbear Entertainment nursery rhyme about waking up.

- "Thanks, Sun."

- "No need to thank me, I wouldn't want you to miss out on play time!"

- 'Playtime, my ass' you think to yourself, getting back to work.

- For the rest of the night he hums the nursery rhyme tune to himself.

Moon 🌑

- To be fair to you, tidying up the lavender scented pillows and blankets from the daycare is hard to do without getting sleepy.

- Moon is used to being around sleeping kids, so he doesn't think it's weird when he spots you.

- That doesn't mean they know how to properly act around sleeping people.

- He just sits there and stares at you.

- Feeling someone's eyes on you, you wake up and practically jump out of your skin.

- "Holy shit, Moondrop."

- "Don't say that, Y/N."

DJ Music Man 🎵

- You seemed to have fallen asleep in the arcade.

- DJ Music Man retrieves a blanket and lays it over you, patting your head goodnight.

- In his hands, the blanket looks like the size of a tissue

- He turns off his music and the main lights in the room, then continues cleaning up or settles down to take a nap beside you.

- When you awake, you're surprised to see your manager was too busy reprimanding Music Man to be mad at you.

- It turns out Music Man is a repeat offender, and you aren't the first person this has happened to.

- He hangs his head in shame. But he will do it again.

[holyangelstudentuniverse]

Peter And The Goblin King

Part 1

'It's been almost a month since he awoke from the catatonia and healed enough to leave the hospital and Peter's still trying to come to grips with how much things have changed in the six years since the fire happened. Technology has advanced in light-years, movies and shows that he had watched the premieres of have gone on for many seasons, or simply ended. New laws and reformations, new businesses being built, old ones torn down. A new mayor, a new sheriff, so many things are different than he last knew, but the worst and hardest to believe is that his pack, his entire family, is gone and Peter's the only one left. No more Talia telling him what to do, no more Nicholas getting between him and the Alpha when they start arguing, no more little Cora tagging along behind him in an attempt to be sneaky. Even Laura, his least favourite pack member, is gone. All of her whining and being favored by the Alpha, all of her bossing of the pack, even those rare nights when a 19 year old Laura sneaked into the library to confess to Peter that she actually really regrets what she did to Derek and wished she never listened to Kate. There's nothing left for Peter but the charred remains of the only home he's ever known and whatever money the pack had collectively saved. He's all alone. Well, aside from the Hunter that keeps trailing him through town, probably to make sure he won't go Omega and murder the entire town and as much as he'd love to do that, at the moment, he's just trying to get his grocery shopping done.

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Chris has been following the Hale wolf since he was discharged from the hospital, searching for a chance to get him alone in a way that won't end up with the Hunter killed. He needs information. He needs to know what his sister is planning so he can stop it because whatever Kate and the late Laura Hale did to that poor, lost Hale child when they were younger, Chris is pretty sure she's going to do to his daughter, his little Allison who was born just a few months ago and he cannot have that. He'll do whatever it takes, whatever the lone 'Wolf wants, just so his baby girl is safe. And as soon as he sees a chance, the Hunter takes it.

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Peter had been expecting this to happen sooner, but at least Argent is no longer hiding behind the chip display. "Well, well, here to finish off what your repugnant sister started?" The Hunter scowls at that, but stays his retort, instead opening with, "Shut up Hale, I'm not going to kill you." Peter, who's pretending to peruse the chips, snorts. The blond grits his teeth and continues, "I'm here to ask for your help. My sister, she's planning something and I want to know what, but Kate knows all of my tricks, she'd catch me before I would find out anything. You're the only one I know that's been able to get the drop on her." The Werewolf in question turns, holding out two bags, "Chili Cheese Fritos or regular Fritos?" "Will you stop with this charade and listen to me?! I need your help, I'll do anything, anything you want!!" Humming, Peter replies, "Yeah, you're right, the Chili Cheese ones are better." Then, once he adds the chips to his cart, spins out of the aisle, the other man stomping after him all the way to the checkout. "Don't tie yourself into knots, Argent, we can finish discussing this once my groceries are put away."

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Chris almost regrets going to Hale. Almost, but he'd do anything for his daughter, even if that means putting away groceries and cleaning the, admittedly very nice, studio apartment while Hale just sits on the sofa and watches with that superior look on his stupid, scarred face. 'Just remember, you're doing this for Allison.'

[defire]

Ghost of Seattle Chapter 70

Previous

Content: gangs, living weapon recovery, discussion of trauma

"Kids fighting? That's as bad as the Shivers. No morals. None."

Kiraba sat with his legs curled up on the couch that Era told him to sit on, staring at the floor. He was in so much pain he could hardly think, but he was trying hard to wrap his mind around what had just happened, and he couldn't. He scooted off the couch, eyes big and wide, and moved stiffly to sit against the wall next to Ghost and Buddy.

"That old psycho was your boss?" Kiraba said slowly. 

"I tried to warn you," Ghost said, slowly eating a whole tomato like an apple. His eyes still darted around the room, like he was hungry for disaster.

"How do you even have an appetite?" Kiraba said.

Ghost shrugged his right shoulder.

Buddy leaned in and whispered something to Ghost, whose big eyes flicked over to Kiraba's face. With those freaky tiny pupils.

"What?" Kiraba said.

"Because," Ghost said to Buddy. "I don't know. I like him."

"I whispered on purpose!" She elbowed him.

"Ouch." Ghost protested.

The people in the room, milling around packing, glanced over at them. They were mostly Yellowcaps and they were going to go soon. 

"You like me?" Kiraba smirked. "Thanks. I feel the same."

Ghost stopped looking comfortable, eyes cast down at his knees.

"I think you got the wrong impression."

"But... Why would you say that?"

Buddy had looked away like she was dwelling on something else.

"You saw it." Ghost said, looking at him. "Didn't you? The type of people we are?""

When he turned, the 3 bloody lumps on his forehead showed, recalling that moment more vividly to Kiraba. 

"What--was I supposed to see something bad about you, when your boss was going ...totally psycho on us?" Kiraba said. His eyes widened, remembering it.

"Psycho?" Ghost smirked without happiness. "You have no idea."

"That was so... horrifying." Kiraba said. "And besides... I don't think you did anything wrong."

Ghost stared at him.

"Those were my people beating you." He said. "And your family. And... Oldman was telling you the truth. He was being unusually gentle. And I took his orders for 3 years."

He paused, eyes narrowing at Kiraba.

"You still think I'm fuckin innocent?"

"...But you're just a kid."

"I'm 15."

Same age as Kiraba.

"...You were right." Kiraba said. 

"Yeah." Ghost scoffed. "I know."

"No, I mean you were right, that I didn't get it."

"Specifically, you don't fuckin get it."

Buddy looked up at Ghost when he said that. She kept studying his face, then looking away, confused. 

Kiraba's mind kept replaying those hints of something much colder than he could comprehend--the way Ghost stole his knife, then just... executed his former partners. The look in his eyes when he almost stabbed Kiraba. He wasn't scared for his life, he'd just... decided to.

And then Oldman; without a hint of hesitation as he ripped Kiraba's wrist and shoulder out of place. He'd intentionally torn his tendons, knowing precisely what he was doing. The way he simply dismissed Kiraba's words with, "Knife him." 

Kiraba shuddered. Exactly what would it take to be so harsh, without a hint of human empathy or remorse?

"How do you guys just..." Kiraba hesitated, swallowing. "Go cold."

Ghost frowned, throwing the last piece of tomato into the middle of the room. 

"What do you mean?"

"Are you actually able to... disregard that your enemy is human?"

Buddy looked up at Ghost to hear his answer.

"Buddy can't." Ghost said.

"Can you?" Buddy asked.

Ghost blinked, looking away thoughtfully.

"I'm not seeing people, I'm seeing patterns." He said. "And then I kill them. And then I look, and they're..." He looked down, pressing his lips together for a moment. "I can't stop looking at what I've done. It's like all I want to do is stop... And people keep making me... keep killing."

"...That's horrifying." Kiraba said softly. "I'm so sorry."

Ghost looked at him, or through him, it seemed.

"See Buddy." He said, resting his arms on his knees. "That's why I like him."

"What?" She scowled.

Ghost shrugged.

"He's so... innocent." 

Kiraba frowned.

"Is this what Oldman meant when he..." He lowered his voice uncomfortably. "When he called me a virgin?"

Ghost and Buddy looked at each other, not smiling anymore.

"He means you're--you seem... untraumatized." Buddy said, like she was trying to put it gently.

"Untraumatized? What does that have to do with... being a virgin?"

"It's just a Shiver joke." Buddy shrugged. "You don't look like you've done it, consensual or otherwise."

"Dude, I'm 15!"

Ghost shrugged.

"People like us, you're lucky if you make it to your teens, still a virgin."

Buddy grimaced and stood up suddenly.

"Buddy?" Ghost said.

She shook her head, huffed and left.

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