#enough to pay rent. and when i told him i didn’t want the job at all and it was just for the tiny amount of money id be getting he

[rosymiel]

scratch that about getting a job, i rescinded my acceptance of the job offer because it wasn’t enough hours. now two days later i just secured an interview with something relevant to my field, is full time, and pays $10 more an hour

[goddamnitmahtin]

A Smooth Criminal

(A dc x dp prompt)

Danny moved to Gotham after high school. Went to college. Got a degree. Found out the thing he got a degree for wasn’t able to hire him because his vitals looked half dead and he couldn’t just tell them he was in-fact half dead. Danny was never going to be an astronaut. Not only that, he had massive college debt. Well fuck.

So Danny started doing odd jobs until he found a more stable income at a psychic reading service of all places. Obviously Danny couldn’t see the future. So he only took clients that wanted to talk to dead people. Which was something he could do, given he had an object that might have had some ectoplasm on it or one of the ghosts that typically hung out in the shop knew where to find the person the client was looking for. Being that this is Gotham, not many people that die here actually cross over into the Ghost Zone. Danny was going to have to look into that at some point. But for now, it meant he had only ever once had to tell a client he couldn’t help.

Now Danny before coming to Gotham, hated psychics on principle. Most were lying and telling their clients utter bullshit. But his current boss seemed to be different. Her name was Lilith and she was very much legit when it came to precognition. She often would tell him ahead of time if a client was going to be difficult and who to watch out for on certain days. On more than one occasion, one of her warnings saved him from a mugging or kidnapping.

So, Danny learned to like his life as a medium and used the money from his job to pay his rent and pay off his college debt. Lilith paid him well and the shop had enough customers to back it up. His hours were based on appointment most of the time so he had more free time to do other things if he didn’t have many appointments for the day.

The only time that the hours went to an 8 hour shift were when one of them left to go on vacation or visit family. Thats where Lilith was this week. Out of town visiting family. Because of this, the shop’s services were limited to Danny’s medium appointments. The shop almost never had walk ins since it was so busy. The only time it ever really happened was when Lilith was gone. And most of the time it was someone wanting to buy a crystal from the window display. Nothing Danny couldn’t handle.

Except that was until Red Hood walked in, oozing with toxic ecto and a shattered mess of a core, tossed a set of pearls at him and told him to get reading.

Danny tried to help, he did. The pearls were covered in ecto and seemed to be from a tragic event but there was no ghost attached to them. Whoever they belonged to had passed on to the Ghost Zone or wasn’t dead. Danny said as much and asked Red Hood if he knew his core shattered. Danny then offered to help repair it. Red Hood did not like that. Danny got punched in the face. And he did not get paid.

*that night on call with Sam and Tucker*

Danny: And then he punched me in the face! Can you believe that?!

Sam: Given that he is a crime lord? Yeah I can.

Tucker: ….

Danny: Tucker I don’t like your suspicious silence.

Tucker: *starts giggling mischievously*

Sam: Tucker what are you doing?

Danny: Tuck-

Tucker: So what you’re saying is that- you’ve been hit by, you’ve been STRUCK by- a smooth criminal. *starts playing Smooth Criminal by Micheal Jackson except the name Annie has been edited to the name Danny*

Danny: I hate you so much

Sam: *laughing hysterically*

Tucker: *singing* Danny are you okay? Are you okay Danny?

Danny: *looks into the metaphorical camera like Jim from the office*

…

Red Hood: *nearly falls off the fire escape he was using to spy when the guy from the psychic shop looks right at him*

[burningembers91]

In the Bleak Midwinter - Nam-Gyu x Fem!Reader

Follow up piece to:

Outside Looking In

Synopsis: Caught out in the cold, you offer Nam-Gyu a place to stay

It was freezing tonight, the coldest January on record in at least 5 years. There were several weather warnings in effect, and ice and snow covered the city streets. Nam-Gyu sat in his winter parker, the hood pulled round his face, his hand stuffed into the pockets for warmth. He’d hardly sold any tickets tonight, most people preferring to stay hunkered down in the warmth instead of battling the elements for some overpriced cocktails and loud music. Still, he battled on, approaching those crazy enough to be out in the cold. He was knocked back again and again, but he couldn’t give up. His parents had given him an ultimatum; find a “real” job or leave their house. Nam-Gyu had begged and pleaded with them to let him stay, even for just a few more days until the weather had died down. But his parents were tired of supporting their youngest son, of constantly having to bail him out of debts they couldn’t afford to pay. His siblings were both doctors, highly esteemed and well respected in their fields. Why couldn’t Nam-Gyu be like this brothers? His parents often wondered. Why did he insist on carrying out this childish fantasy of club promoting? He was approaching 30, and many of his old classmates and family acquaintances were settling down, so why couldn’t he?

You were the reason he couldn’t settle down, couldn’t move on from a job that was actually causing him to lose money. You were all he had left in the world, the one friend he could count on. You’d grown a little closer over the last few months, letting down your guard enough to allow Nam-Gyu to walk you home most nights. He was acting more like himself, forgoing the cocky persona he adopted when he was working. You liked the real him, had told him so several times, and for the first time in his life, Nam-Gyu felt like he didn’t need to be anyone else. You were still broken though, still dragging yourself through the monotony of life in order to pay the bills. Your rent had gone up, as had the heating bill, but your wages were still pitifully low. You found yourself wondering how you’d pay the bills, how you’d manage to feed yourself when you were barely covering basic expenses. Nam-Gyu kept you sane, making you laugh on the nights you thought you might wither and fade entirely.

He saw you standing outside the club, your winter coat pulled up by your ears, your bare legs covered in goosebumps. “I bought you a hot chocolate,” he smiled, handing you the paper cup he’d been using to warm his hands. “What are you doing here?” you gasped, taking the hot drink gratefully and taking a large sip. “It’s absolutely freezing out! You’ll catch your death. Please, go home. I’m ok tonight, there’s hardly anyone here.” Nam-Gyu didn’t like to leave you on your own, not when he knew the way the men who frequented your club behaved. He’d witnessed it more times that he’d cared to, had come to your aid on the occasions where drunken patrons had tried to take advantage of you. You were strong, and you could hold your own, but Nam-Gyu would never forgive himself if something happened to you. “I’m fine!” he lied, pulling his hood tighter around his face as the snow continued to bucket down. “Nam-Gyu,” you sighed, “it’s one snowflake away from a full-blown blizzard. You’ll freeze to death out here. I’m finishing early tonight anyway, so I won’t be walking home on my own too late.”

He knew you wouldn’t let off until he went home, but he no longer had a home to go to. He’d been crashing with one of his brother’s for a few days, but his parents found out and the backlash had been enough for his brother to renege on his invitation. “I uh… I can’t go home,” he admitted. “I had an argument with my parents.” He couldn’t meet your eyes as he spoke, didn’t want you to see the shame plastered to his face. “So, where are you staying?” He could hear the pity in your voice, and he hated it. “Around,” he shrugged, but you couldn’t fool him. you could read Nam-Gyu like a book; you’d gotten to know him quite well over the last few months, better than he’d realised. “Take my keys,” you told him.  “I get off work in an hour, and I’ll see you at my place. You can’t stay in the cold though.” Handing him a pink fuzzy keychain, you didn’t give him a chance to argue before you hurried back into the warmth of the club.

When he arrived at your apartment, the lights wouldn’t turn on. Nam-Gyu wondered if perhaps there was a fault with the fuse box, but he couldn’t find it in your apartment, so set about looking for candles instead. He lit as many as he could find and took a seat on your tiny sofa. He tried to avoid looking at the underwear you’d left hanging out to dry, the lacy garments almost taunting him as he looked wildly around the room for a distraction. You had photos covering your walls; pictures of you with friends and family, pictures of you on vacation. Your smile was so wide, your eyes so bright. He wondered what had happened to you that had dimmed your sparkle. He noticed that you like to read, stacks of books piled around your apartment by various different authors. When looking for the bathroom, he found your bedroom and couldn’t help but smile at the teddy bear perched atop your pillow. The fur was faded and completely gone in some places, but it still held pride of place in your room.

You arrived back home shortly after 11pm to find Nam-Gyu sitting in near darkness. “Why are all the lights off?” you asked him, dumping your coat and boots in the hall. His face was bathed in the dark orange glow of the candles, the light casting his shadow onto the wall behind him. “They wouldn’t turn on,” he said, “I couldn’t find the fuse box, so I just lit your candles.” You tried and failed to get the lights working, a constant sinking feeling in your stomach increasing with each passing second. “They turned my electric off,” you sighed, realising there was nothing faulty with the fuse box. “I… I’m a little behind on payments.” Slumping on the sofa next to Nam-Gyu, you leaned your head against the threadbare couch. Because your electric was off, it meant the heating wasn’t working, and your apartment was like an icebox. You could see your breath in the air when you exhaled, could feel a shiver run through you as you sat freezing in your dress. “What will you do?” Nam-Gyu asked, wishing he could offer you money so you could at least get your lights back on. But the truth was, he was fully in the red. His bank account was overdrawn, and he’d borrowed more money than he cared to think about. “I’ll be ok,” you shrugged. “No use worrying about it now though. I’ll call the company tomorrow. Will you be ok on the sofa?” Nam-Gyu nodded, wrapping himself in the pink fluffy blanket he’d found when he first arrived. “Goodnight,” he whispered, watching as you padded through to the bedroom, using a linen scented candle to guide your way.

You were freezing under your duvet, unable to warm up despite the pyjamas and blankets covering your body. You couldn’t imagine how Nam-Gy must feel, having only a small blanket for warmth. You couldn’t leave him out there like that, not when he’d always been so kind to you. “Do you want to come and sleep in the bed”? you called out, “it’s too cold to be in the living room.” You heard him get up, heard the sound of his feet on the hardwood as he wondered over to your door. “Are you sure?” he asked, “I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” But his heart soared at the thought of lying next to you, of feeling your body against his. You pulled back the duvet, allowing him to slide in next to you. The sheets smelled like your perfume and Nam-Gyu took a deep, but quiet breath in as he inhaled your scent.

You were still freezing, and gently pushed yourself closer to his body, the warmth of his chest radiating against your back. Gingerly, Nam-Gyu curled his arm around you, pulling you in closer. You both lay there in the darkness of the room, watching as the snow continued to fall. Neither of you knew what tomorrow would bring. You were both at the lowest points of your lives, but now you had each other. “Goodnight,” he whispered to you, his lips brushing lightly against the tip of your ear. “Goodnight,” you whispered back, his gentle touch sending sparks through your body. You wanted him to kiss you, wanted him to make love to you under the sheets but you couldn’t bring yourself to make the move. As good a man as Nam-Gyu was, you couldn’t allow yourself to fully let your guard down.

But, as you waited for sleep to come, his soft snores oddly comforting in the cold silence of the night, you wondered if perhaps you should take a chance on him. Perhaps you should open yourself to the man who waited in the wind, rain, and snow for you, who never gave up on you.

Maybe it was time to your open yourself up to the possibility that you could be happy again, that a club promoter and a hostess could have a life filled with love and laughter, if only they could get up the courage to try.

[darnell-la]

heyyy :3 I was thinking too much about the patch variant!logan, All I can think of is reader getting fucked on a poker table, something with degradation and choking 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

note: Logan would’ve dealt with a thief in a different way then tonight, but he couldn’t resist y/n. He never could, and tonight was a perfect night to do what he’s been dying to do.

———

“What made you think you could still from me, Bub?” Logan asked as his guard brought her over to the man who hadn’t looked at her yet. He was busy counting money with the rest of the table.

“I-I’m sorry, sir, I just needed extra money for rent this month,” y/n said, eyes stinging and heart raising. She swore she was careful, but now she was in front of her boss she had only seen a few times.

“Rent? I don’t pay you enough to cover that, hun?” The man asked. She was afraid to answer, but she had to. She didn’t know what he was capable of, but by how his work looked and how many stories she’d heard of people being terrified of him, she was terrified too.

“Yes — My rent went up a couple of months ago, and I don’t have time to work another job,” y/n explained herself, but he looked up phased by her son's story.

“And you ain’t care to ask me to raise your pay?” Logan asked, and she had, but she couldn’t dare ask. “I-I didn’t think of it,” y/n liked, and the man could tell. Hearing the way her heart stuttered was all he needed.

“Oh, but I think you did. You ain’t no dumb girl, now. I know that by how you tried to steal from me,” Logan said before he snapped his fingers, making the guard kick the back of her knees to force her to the ground.

“I just think you didn’t want to ask. Maybe too scared. Think I’d turn you down, which I would’ve, but I still would’ve taken care of you,”

Logan knows everyone who works for him, whether they know it or not. Y/n has been the only loyal and consistent one yet, and he admired that.

What he didn’t admire was how she thought she could take his money and live with life. He wasn’t a cruel man, but he had to teach her something.

“I’m sorry, sir, it won’t happen again. I-I promise,” y/n said as a tear rolled down her cheek. “I’ll make sure of it,” was all Logan said before he clapped his hands, causing everyone at the table to get up and make their way out.

“Leave her here — I’ve got her,” Logan said speaking to the guards, still not taking his eyes off the money he was counting. When the guard let y/n go, she rubbed her arm and shoulder where the guard at probably bruised her from how tight he had her in his grip.

“Stand up, you look ridiculous,” Logan said to the young girl, making her do as told. “When I hired you, I expected you to be more feisty,” Logan admitted, making her shake her head slowly.

“You’re my boss, sir,” y/n said, not wanting to get fired from the only job that pays her decently. “Do you have respect for me, princess?” Logan asked the girl as he got up. The way he towered over her, made her legs shake.

“Y-Yes, of course, I do, sir,” Y/n said, barely being able to keep eye contact. Any time she saw him, he looked good. She swore he gets more attractive with every interaction.

“Well, ain’t that so,” Logan stepped closer to y/n their bodies touched. “I like a girl who looks up to me. Don’t get much of them around these days — Especially a pretty little thing like you,”

Y/n looked down, too anxious to make eye contact, but that only egged his mind on further.

Logan lifted Y/n’s head with his finger under her chin until her eyes locked in his. She’s never been looked at like this before. She had no clue what to do.

“But taking my money wasn’t so respectful of you, princess. Might show you the consequences that come with disrespect,”

Logan’s other hand slightly gripped y/n’s waist, only making it more obvious how anxious she was. The shivering wasn’t hard to miss or feel from her.

“I’m sorry-“Y/n tried apologizing again, but this time, Logan shushed her as he placed a finger on her lips. “You’ll show me how sorry you are, Bub, don’t worry,” Logan spoke as he revoked his finger.

Y/n wanted to speak and ask the man what she had to do to show him how sorry she was, but she saw how the man leaned toward her before she could speak.

She pulled back, only a couple of inches by the time Logan’s hand wrapped around the back of her head just to grip and tug.

Y/n let out a small yell before her boss's lips fell onto her neck, licking and sucking in a spot she didn’t know could make her mind blank.

Logan groaned into the girl's neck as his hand on her hip pulled her body into his. Y/n wanted to push the man away, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to. Instead, she moaned.

With that, Logan’s lips stopped on her skin. She felt the smirk he had across his lips. He had her within seconds, and she didn’t know it yet.

Before she knew it, Logan turned her around and forced her down on his poker table that he was just counting money on. The man moved all of his money out of the way before tracing his hands up and down her body.

“Gotta keep you to myself after this one, Bub?” Logan said as he touched every inch of her body that he could. “To damn pretty to ignore,”

Logan tugged on y/n’s waistband until he got her dance panties off. She was already exposed before, but now, he could see everything he was going to destroy.

Logan wasted no time sucking on his fingers, coating them in spit before sliding them past her folds. He curled instantly, making her feel a small purr in the lower end of her stomach.

“Wet little things been waitin’ for me, huh? What do you say?” Logan asked y/n, making her whine before she answered. “T-Thank you,”

“As much as I love the submission, I’m still upset about your actions,” Logan pulled out of y/n and forced her around and on her back. Y/n watched as he fumbled with his belt and pulled himself out.

“Sir-“ Before she could speak and tell him he would be too huge for her, he pushed her body back down by her neck, gripping hard and pinning her back onto the table.

“Don’t glätte me angry, Bub. You don’t wanna see that side of me,” Logan said as he shifted in between her legs. Y/n stayed silent since she in fact did not want to see him that way.

“Good girl — So damn obedient,” the man praised before his tip slipped past her folds. Y/n’s walls instantly clenched around him, making it hard for him to go further, but he managed.

“S-Sir,” y/n’s voice cracked as he broke completely past her folds, allowing his tip to graze her g-spot. “Don’t wanna hear it, Bub. I know for a fact you’ve taken cock before — Just look at you. Too pretty to not be a slut,”

Logan placed his free on y/n’s waist to grip down hard. He wanted to earn every noise possible out of her mouth tonight.

“You’re always the best-dressed dancer — You ain’t foolin’ me, Bub,” Logan said as he pounded into her cunt repeatedly. Y/n tapped on his wrist that was closest to her neck to tell him to loosen up, but there was no way he would. Why would he? She belonged to him, so he’d do whatever he pleased with her.

“Cunts so fuckin’ wet, I just know you fuck rich men in your job. Do you? C’mon, baby, I don’t get mad,” Logan lied, knowing he’d flip her right over and abuse her other hole.

“N-No, sir, I swear,” y/n choked on her whine. “Sure you don’t. Sure you don’t spread your legs just like this for a man with a bit of extra cash for you,” Logan kept going, but Logan knew she wouldn’t. He’s watched her private dances plenty of times to make sure of it.

“N-No, I don’t, sir,” y/n’s hands grabbed the man’s arms, trying to brace herself for what was about to come. “Such a good little thing,” Logan’s voice echoed through her head before she let loose all around him.

“That’s it, keep it comin’ and I might let you stay with me,” Logan said, knowing he was going to keep her whether she wanted to stay or not. Deep down, he knew she needed him in ways she hadn’t thought of yet.

“Gonna get this pussy every day after work, do you understand me? That’s all you’ll do. Please and sit on my lap like a pretty piece of candy,”

“O-Okay,” was all y/n could say. Her voice was low and broken. The way his grip tightened around her neck and his thrust sped up, made everything so much harder for her to do.

“Fuck, Bub,” was the last thing Logan before he felt his knees bucking. He wanted to last longer, but it was impossible with how good she looked, sound, and felt. He was keeping her with no doubt.

[soxcietyy]

Trouble

Yuta x reader 18+

forbidden romance, enemy’s to lovers

You are now an instructor at Jujutsu tech because of your protective older brother Megumi. He’s seen your bad luck with romance so he sets one rule in place. "No dating sorcerers, especially the ones who are heads of clans." Sounded easy enough until one comes into your class. Yuta Okkotsu.

Part one - Part two

"Welcome back baby sister." Megumi says as he placed his hand over you head.

You smile at him seeing how he welcomed you warmly. Last time you saw him he was cold and ignored you. Too embarrassed to tell everyone that you guys were related. Which wasn’t that hard to tell because you two had many similar features. Same colored hair and the exact same eyes.

You’ve heard people joke about you being the girl version of him but nicer and more extroverted.

Handing your bags to him you go inside the property and go a 360 of the place. It was so nice compared to where Gojo decided to ship you off too.

"I see he had favorites." You roll your eyes.

Megumi didn’t say anything but lead . During your walk you admired every little thing. It was amazing seeing that he was now the owner of this property. He was the head of the Zenin clan after all.

"Stop exaggerating and listen up. You’ll be teaching a new curriculum in this school so you’ll be granted one of the new buildings. It has a built in studio with locker rooms and showers.

"Really?! That’s so exciting!! I can’t wait to meet everyone!" You say.

He nods with a soft smile and walks you to the front of a house. It was exactly four building way from his main estate. The pros of having a older brother that’s the head of a clan. A home that you didn’t have to pay rent for! You could just hug him right now but you knew your limits.

He set your luggage down inside and gave you a tour of the place. It was so huge for it to be only for you. A while family could live here. This was way too much, you weren’t expecting him to give you this.

"Before you settle in I want to talk to you about something." He says as you sit in the bed.

You let out a groan knowing exactly were this conversation was going. He’s been looking over you ever since he was informed about your situation in America.

You were dating sorcerers over in the states and well things would always end terribly for you. You’d call him drunk and crying over a breakup. Especially the last one. He was a very strong person and was very popular. You two hit it off when you met and even went as far as to get an apartment together. It was going great! You guys even spoke about getting married and having kids! That was until you came home late one day from your Yoga class to find him in bed with three women. You ended things with him but he kicked you out of the place and kept all your things.

That’s when Megumi told you to come back home. Which you did, kind of… you moved very far from him so he wouldn’t butt in your life but he was very overprotective. He’d want to know how the guy you were talking to was, there profession, family and if they were a sorcerer. Eventually another break up happened and he demanded you to come live here with him and he’d get you a job. Which he thankfully did.

Though now you had to live with an overprotective brother.

"No dating sorcerers, especially the ones that are head of clans. They’re nothing but trouble" he crosses his arms.

"Obviously!! Iv learned my lesson! No more sorcerers!" You smile at him.

He furrowed his brows not believing anything that just came out your mouth. He didn’t bother to say anything after. He simply just left you to settle in.

You woke up early in the morning the next day. You had class to teach and the higher ups thought it would be a great idea to having it be the students first class. They said that it would help them wake up and be alert for the other classes.

You had a hard time getting up but managed due to the thought of your brother scolding you for being late on the first day of the job.

At school you set your gym bag down and started cleaning the place a bit. It was still dusty since they finished constructing it a few days ago. So you found your self brooming up the place before your students got here. It didn’t take long for them to start coming in. Clearly they had just woken up and grabbed themselves to class by the look they were wearing.

"Welcome!" You cheerfully say as everyone sat on the mats.

It seemed like everyone was here now so you could officially start class.

You started off my introducing yourself and what this class was all about. The importance of stretching and flexibility. Not only was it important for combat but also for your health.

Instructing them to change into work out gear you decide to eat a snack while you waited. Taking a mandarin out of your lunch bag you begin to peal it carefully. To not make a mess you start in a spiral form so it could come off in one piece.

"Good morning"

You look up to see someone standing at the door. They stood leaning on the door frame but their whole body covered the entrance from his hight. It was a man with dark hair and dark blue eyes. He was one of the most good looking guys you’ve seen. He was totally your type! Just look at how buff he looked!

His gaze was on you as he observed you carefully.

"Good morning…" you say as you stare in awe.

It was okay to admire him right?

"My name is Yuta Okkotsu. I just wanted to stop by and check out this new class. I did invest a lot of money into it after all." He says.

He invested money into this class? You thought your older brother did this. Unless he called in some favors. That wasn’t really like him so you wondered how this happened.

"Welcome to my yoga class!" You say giving him a warm welcome. "I’m so glad you wanted to invest into these kids future. I heard so many higher ups and heads of family’s wanted to turn down this class." You say standing next to him.

Goodness how this man towered over you was crazy.

"I was one of them actually. I don’t see the importance of such a thing. They should get all of there stretches during training." He crossed his arms as his eyes wondered around the room. "I only ended up agreeing and funding because I owed Fushiguro a favor." He continued.

Wow every nice thing you thought about was now out the window. This dude was a total jerk! The audacity of him saying that infront of you!

"Actually it’s a quite important class that will help these students in battle and in health. It’s a skill everyone here should learn." You raise your brow.

Yuta looks at you with a tired expression.

"Right."

Your eye twitched as you looked at him. Your brother was right! These jujutsu sorcerers were jerks! No wonder he told you to stay away from them.

"Yes, actually I think I could take you down. Iv been doing yoga and pilates for years now. I don’t do hardcore training." You challenge him.

Knowing men he was going to bite the bait and that he did.

"I wouldn’t want to embarrass you. Your new and your students would loose respect for you." He laughs.

"Sounds like your scared Yuta." You grin.

He looked baffled by your comment for a second but quickly replaced it with a smile.

"Your on."

By the time he said that all the students were back. They looked at you wuddd eye seeing how you too bickered.

"Change of plans class. Today you’ll be observing what a normal fighter vs one that is also flexible." You smile at them.

The students ended up moving their mats all the way to the back so they wouldn’t get in your way. You could tell they were excited to see this go down. When do you see a teacher fighting someone important during class? At least you assume he was important during to him having a say about your class and then investing money into it.

Both of you take your place in your respective areas.

"Just a normal fight with no sorcery." You say.

He gives you a nod acknowledging the rules.

He starts by moving swiftly, his speed catching you off guard. He darts forward, attempting to land a quick jab aimed at your jaw, testing your reflexes.

You blocked him and swings fist to his abdomen

You could hear him grunt slightly as your fist connects with his abdomen, but he barely pauses, grinning wickedly. Solid hit. He retaliates with a quick roundhouse kick aimed at your ribs. But can you keep up this pace?

You lean all the way back to avoid being kicked stumbling back as you tried to avoid it.

He sees your stumble and takes advantage, closing the distance. He grabs your arm and twists it behind your back, pulling you into a hold. "You're a bit slow, aren't you?" his breath is hot against your ear as he holds you in place.

Oh please as of you trained every day to fight people! You did it here and there because Megumi would scold you about it but you mostly did yoga.

Somehow you turn around to face him breaking free just to tuck your knees in between you guys to kick him off.

He flies back from the force of your kick, hitting the ground hard but quickly regaining his composure. He gets back up, his expression now serious and determined, a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. "You're more agile than I thought." He cracks his knuckles.

"Thanks?" You pull out a dagger that was strapped on your thigh and throws it towards him.

His eyes widen in surprise as he quickly dodges to the side, the dagger missing him by a hair's breadth and embedding itself in the wall behind him. He looks back at you, a mix of shock and admiration in his eyes. "A dagger?"

"We can use weapons, did you space out when I only called off abilities?"

He laughs, his eyes gleaming with a fierce intensity. "Oh, I was paying attention. I just didn't expect you to be so prepared." He pulls out a katana from behind his back, the blade gleaming in the dim light.

You pull out two other daggers but takes a defensive stance

He charges towards you, his katana slicing through the air with deadly precision. He swings it in wide arcs, forcing you to dodge and weave to avoid the attacks. You're quick, but you can't keep this up forever. Eventually, you'll tire.

"Of course you had to wield a huge Katana" you mumble.

He smirks, his breath heavy as he continues to press his attack. "It's the only weapon worthy of my skill." He leaps into the air, bringing the katana down in a powerful diagonal slash. The blade whooshes through the air, barely missing your head.

Maybe… just maybe this was a bad idea. Obviously this man years of experience compared to you. "Your gonna end up cutting my hair"

Yuta lands gracefully, his breathing now heavier from the prolonged fight. "You think too much about your appearance, shouldn't you be more worried about winning?" He shifts his grip on the katana. "Plus, your hair would look good shorter." He winks playfully.

"Definitely not worried if I’m going against you." You throw another dagger at him.

He catches the dagger mid-air with his free hand, the other still gripping his katana. Yuta throws the dagger back at you with surprising accuracy, forcing you to dodge once again.

You pull out another one that you had stored on you but this one was special compared to the others.

Yuta raises an eyebrow, slightly taken aback by your seemingly endless supply of weapons. "Just how many daggers do you have hidden on you?" he charges forward, his katana a blur as he slashes and stabs in quick succession, testing your defensive capabilities.

Grunts "plenty, can’t tell you how many though. I want it to be a surprise”

Yuta laughs, the sound echoing through the room as he dodges and parries your daggers with his katana. "A surprise, huh? Well, I love surprises." he suddenly stops his aggressive advance and holds his katana vertically in front of him, the tip pointed directly at your face. His eyes narrow, a smirk playing on his lips as he slowly lowers his katana, the point still aimed at your face. He lunges forward, his katana swinging in a wide arc towards your head.

You grab his arms and drags the dagger across his limb leaving a long cut.

"Fuck" he groans in pain as the dagger cuts into his arm, his eyes widening in shock. He pulls back instinctively, dropping his katana with a clang. "Damn it." He clutches his wounded arm, glaring at you intensely. "You're ruthless, you know that?"

"Oh common Yuta that’s not even the best part! The Dagger was coated with venom that can leave the your arm paralyzed for an hour."

his eyes widen in realization, his mind racing as he looks at the growing numbness spreading through his arm. "You... You can't be serious..." He tries to flex his hand, but it feels heavy and unresponsive.

"You’ll be fine, but you can always forfeit the fight so you won’t end up with all of your limbs paralyzed"

Yuta glances down at his paralyzed arm, then back up at you with a rueful grin, shaking his head in disbelief. "You fight dirty, don't you?" He leans heavily against the wall, trying to keep his balance as the numbness spreads.

"Common Yuta! The next cut won’t be so good, my other daggers have effects that can last the whole day."

His eyes flicker with anger and frustration as he realizes the gravity of his situation. "Alright, alright! I surrender!" He raises his good hand in defeat, his voice strained. "Just... Just call off your little attacks, okay?" He looks at you with a mixture of annoyance and respect.

You turn to your class and smile at them. "You see class you may not use flexibility during comeback but it comes in handy during defense!"

You could hear as he grumbles and leans against the wall, trying to maintain his balance as his arm remains limp and unresponsive. "Great, you win. Can I at least have some bandages or something for my arm?" He mutters but looks at you with a pout, his pride wounded more than his actual arm.

"Right! I have just the thing it, here take the drink and you should be back to normal." You hand him the drink. "Alright class over! Onto your next one." You dismiss your students a bit early to not embarrass Yuta.

He takes the drink cautiously, examining it before bringing it to his lips and taking a sip. As soon as the liquid touches his tongue, he feels a cold sensation spreading through his arm, and the numbness begins to spread. "Are you sure you have me the right thing?"

“What do you mea- oh no… I gave you the poison I use for my daggers. The stronger one with long lasting effects. I’m so sorry Yuta I didnt-“

His eyes widen in realization as the poison takes effect more rapidly, spreading through his arm and into his chest. He gasps for breath, his body beginning to feel heavy and uncoordinated.

"It wasn’t on purpose! uhhh let me see if I have the correct one!" You dig through your bag to find nothing "Dont panic but I have nothing. lucky for you this won’t kill you! you’ll just be paralyzed for the day!"

His body begins to slump as the paralysis sets in, his limbs feeling like dead weight. He glares at you with eyes that are slowly losing focus." You're telling me I'm going to be stuck like this for the entire day?" His voice is slurring slightly.

"Unfortunately."

Yuta struggles to maintain his balance, his legs now completely numb. "There has to be... some way.. to reverse it..." He stumbles forward slightly, catching himself on the wall.

You grab him and help him up by taking him home. "Don’t worry I’ll just take care of you until you feel better. don’t tell the higher ups or Megumi about this.

He turned to look at you with a wary face.

It didn’t take long for you to sneak him into the property. By this point his head had lost strength making him look down onto the floor. He collapses onto your bed, his body completely unresponsive now, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. "You're lucky I can't move... Or else I'd tell them you poisoned me on purpose..."

"Nobody would believe you anyways." Only Megumi would and you’d never hear the end of it.

He lets out a weak laugh, his chest barely rising and falling with each breath. "Probably not... pauses, his voice growing softer. You're not so bad... for a yoga sorcerer..." His eyes start to droop, the poison's effects finally taking their toll. "Just..." his voice is barely a whisper now. "Don't... leave me alone..."

[pepperyduck]

EXCUSE ME MA’AM but your angst kills me it’s sooooo good. would you ever write anything like toji being really distant and out of it for awhile, but saying he’s fine, and him accidentally calling reader his late wife’s name? and then fear and hurt and sadness ensues 🥰😭🥲

hey queen yes i got u. i was high as hell writing this so apologies if it's bad!!!!

word count: 1.1k

warnings: hurt/no comfort, abrupt ending, age gap, toji's wife is referred to as "mama" cus i didn't know what name to use, female reader.

masterlist

something was off with toji.

you had dated him long enough, at least you thought, to know when something was on his mind, when something was bothering him relentlessly… but he never opened up about those feelings, it wouldn’t matter how much you pestered and pressed him, he was never going to tell you if he had any negative emotions.

that should have been expected.

toji had a good 10 years or so on you, the extra time in his life was filled with family matters and the tragic loss of his wife — that was seven years ago. he only told you these things plainly; there were never any hints behind his words or tone that he even grieved her. he didn’t even tell you her name, simply referring to her as “mama” or “megu”, something you assumed were nicknames he gave her in their time together.

toji loved and grieved his late wife in silence — there would always be a part of her in him. but since she had gone, he had never found a way to express his feelings, simply pushing everything — sadness, grief and pain — to the back of his mind and focusing on what was in front of him.

you had been his focus for a few months now.

you really thought you were something special to be able to have a guy like toji be interested in you. he was attractive, and cold towards pretty much everyone — except for the women he wanted to get with. but you didn’t know how easily he flipped that switch when it came to women. so, you just assumed yourself as the luckiest girl in the world, striding with a big, scary man on your side everywhere you went.

the two of you were like missing puzzle pieces, almost. often, you gushed to him about your feelings and bothered him into doing the same. his replies were stern and short, a simple “i’m fine” made you content. he didn’t talk much, and you seemed to take control of all the conversations. you thought he was a good listener.

toji tried to spare your feelings as much as possible, but he couldn’t help but revert back to his old ways. it never failed, he would always screw up what he had with ease, like he was used to ruining his own life.

but anyways, back to the problem.

something was wrong with toji. it took you a while to place that something was off. you noticed small things at first, a missing bill out of your wallet or toji not coming home until the early hours of the morning. you knew he had a dangerous, time-consuming job, but it never really bothered you at first.

he helped you pay rent — until he didn’t. you wondered where his money was going; where your money was going. the cash you kept in your purse began to disappear slowly, you just thought you spent it and didn’t remember where. you trusted toji enough to not blame him. you loved him enough, too.

yet the late nights and lack of calls began to bother you. resentment grew over time, until you finally had enough. so when you and toji were finally home alone, late at night, you decided to confront him.

and how badly you’d end up wishing you didn’t.

“tell me, toji. you’ve been acting weird.” concern in your voice, you tried to pry an answer out of your boyfriend. he sat next to you on the loveseat of your shared apartment, fist mushed into his cheek as he rested his head on his hand. toji didn’t even look at you, just cut his eyes away from you at every question.

“i told you, i’m fine,” toji sternly replied, his tone was one of those that told you to drop it.

“you’re not, something’s going on,” you look at him with your body turned towards him, and he continues his stoic stare into the wall.

toji looked so bored, with his scarred lips turned into a slight frown. he had begun to form small dark circles under his eyes, too, and the stubble on his face had began to grow to new lengths. he simply looked disheveled.

“toji, please,” you pleaded, not knowing exactly what you were asking for – you just needed something, anything to go off of and help him. you inched closer to him to wrap an arm around him, but he quickly tried to move your arm off him.

“listen, mama – i mean-,” toji stuttered, too fast before he could realize his mistake, “shit.”

you drew yourself away from him quickly, looking at toji with wide eyes. he turned his head away from you in shame, not allowing you to look him in the eyes – as he knew it would only make him feel guilty.

what the hell? –

you knew he didn’t mean it as a cute nickname. he was calling out to his wife. you felt the small shattering begin inside your chest, a painful pang of heartbreak forcing its way into you.

no, it was just an honest mistake, right?

just a small indicator that toji still thought about his wife, maybe a lot, more often than what you hoped.

just a small indicator that you’ll never be the woman he loves.

make no mistake about that.

silence fell over the room, piercing nothingness filled both of your ears as you began to grow upset. upset would’ve been an understatement, though. you were devastated.

toji curled up into his side of the couch in shame for a few minutes, minutes that felt like long, strenuous hours. you just looked at him in shock, then down at the ground, genuinely unsure of how to react to what he said.

everything was clear,

you weren’t the woman he thought about. his thoughts were constantly filled with his wife, he looked for her in every woman he tried to settle down with – but to no avail, of course. toji would never find the woman he was looking for; because the woman he was looking for was gone.

toji fixed his posture after a few moments, “listen, i’m sorry, i just…” he trailed off, raking his fingers through his hair in shame and confusion. he didn’t know what to say, or how to make the situation any better. he had ruined it all by the slip of his tongue.

“it’s fine, toji,” you mumbled, looking back up at toji with sad eyes.

he looked utterly ashamed of himself in that moment, a pathetic mess of a man you hadn’t seen from him before. so much vulnerability radiated from him. he pitifully looked you in the eyes, leaning back against the couch tiredly. he just looked so sad. there was a pain behind his eyes you hadn’t seen over the months of you dating.

the next words he spoke to you broke you indefinitely,

“you just remind me of her, so much.”

taglist: @kundere20000000 @missakward123 @lagataprrr @cherriee-ee @ourfinalisation @shiroganekagami

let me know if u want to be added!

[zigrethsnotebook]

(in my deathbed)

Pls.... more.... reader who doesn't express much emotions like the other one your wrote (still the water runs deep) omg it was so good like imagine reader laughing like once at something they're watching and ford absolutely screaming internally over it omg plssss plssss.... stoic... reader.... (dies)

oh man, it's such a shame you won't get to read this now :/ still, might as well fullfill your last wish <3 (Part 1)

Still waters run deep 2

Ford x Reader

words: 2,540

tags: sfw, fluff

It had been a whole week since Ford found you crying on the roof. After the moment had ended, both of you had climbed back downstairs and you went home for the day. You two haven't talked about the whole situation since.

But, at the very least, your mood had lifted a little. You still brought Ford a plate of food every day and you were meeting his eyes again. Seeing him smile so genuinely at you every day made all the stress you felt pale a little. Like maybe those things weren't as bad as they seemed right now.

It took Ford a week to build up his courage to bring it up again, going against the part of his brain that told him to not make you sad again by bringing it up. He needed some time convincing himself that talking about it and maybe finding a solution for one of the things would be better than not doing anything.

He came up into the gift shop and found you sitting at the register as per usual. The tourists that Stan was still guiding around the house wouldn't be here for another couple of minutes. Ford walked up to your counter and watched you raise your head from your phone to him.

He decided to try a more casual approach. "What are you looking at on there?" He pointed to your phone. Without changing your expression in the slightest you sighed lightly. Most people would have assumed you were annoyed at the question. Ford knew that wasn't the case. But he didn’t quite understand that you were sighing in exhaustion either.

"Job offers." Was your simple reply. It didn’t need any more words to give Ford the same tight feeling in his chest he had the first time you told him that you were looking for a new job. "Why do you want to leave the shack?" He tried to keep the panic out of his voice.

Ford knew that there was no real way for him to build a proper relationship with you if you spent most of your days somewhere else. This knowledge made him sick to his stomach. He couldn't bear to not have you around anymore. You, your food and soft mystery, that came with trying to decipher your emotions, were the highlights of his days.

You let out another audible breath. "My rent is too high." You shook your head as you placed your phone on the counter with the screen pointing downwards. "It's either a new job or a new flat." You honestly felt like crying again.

It just felt so futile. You couldn't lose your place, there weren't any other available. If there were, you'd just move. So you had to settle for a new job, except nobody was hiring either or just wouldn't pay enough from the start. Maybe if you worked two jobs?

Ford couldn't see it on your face but it was like he could feel the hopelessness radiating off of you. It made him feel tiny and helpless. "I... Is there something I can do to help?"

Ford watched intently as you tightened your lips a little in thought. "I don't think so." You admitted, shaking your head a little. Ford just nodded, unsure what else to offer.

Your conversation was cut short when Stan guided the tourists right into the gift shop, causing you to spring into work mode, your phone quickly disappearing behind the counter.

Ford watched the people scatter around the room for a moment before he walked over to his brother and pulled him to the side, out of earshot of everyone in the room.

"Give her a raise." Ford told him, his expression serious. Stan laughed in his face. "Listen, Sixer. I know you have a crush on her as well, but I can't just go around giving people raises left and right." Stan patted him on the shoulder and was about to walk away when Ford pulled him back.

"It's either that or I'll offer her to move in with us." Stan chuckled, now a little nervously. "Woah, buddy, aren't you moving a little too fast here?" Ford grunted in frustration. "I know!" He cringed at his own sudden loudness, quickly falling into a quieter tone again. Not that anybody had noticed.

"I just..." Another frustrated groan. "If we don't do something she'll leave the shack." Stan furrowed his brows in confusion. "What? Where did you hear that?" Ford looked at his brother with bewilderment. "Where do you think?" Stan looked over at you for a moment, watching you ring up a customer with that expressionless look on your face.

He looked back at his brother, a little smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Tell her to move in with us. With you. Maybe that way I'll learn if she's really such a good cook." Ford looked away in annoyance, trying to hide the very obvious blush that was spreading on his cheeks. Stan just laughed again.

After all the tourists had left Ford was on his way back down to the lab. He could hardly go down there while everyone could see the secret entrance.

However, Stan had other plans. He grabbed his brother by the arm and pulled him over to your counter while whispering in his ear. "I know you, Sixer. If you don't ask her now, you never will."

Standing in front of the counter Stan gave you a big grin as he patted Ford on the back encouragingly. Ford on the other hand felt like throwing up. He couldn't ask you this! It was way too forward and completely out of the blue. He swallowed thickly.

As the silence between you three grew longer Stan looked at his brother and gave him another clap to the back. There was no going back now. Ford took a deep breath and then locked eyes with you.

"It's a new flat." You just looked at him as you tried to decode the cryptic message Ford was trying to convey. Even Stan furrowed his brows at Ford. "I mean. Move in with me. Us! with us." Ford's ears turned a soft shade of red in embarrassment at his mistake.

Your eyes widened in shock and your heart skipped a beat as you let his words sink in. Ford, the guy you have been crushing on for the past few months, was asking you to move in with him to help you out. This had to be a dream, right?

Meanwhile, sheer panic took hold of Ford's soul as he watched your wide eyes, that gave no real hint of your emotions other than shock. He was sure you'd be appalled. Surely, Stan had just misinterpreted your care as a crush and you now thought he was a massive creep for offering this.

Ford couldn't do anything but stare and let his thoughts spiral while you were trying to figure out if you were even awake right now. Stan looked between you two and realized with annoyance just how perfect you two were for each other.

"Okay." Your voice was quiet, careful. Your eyes had gone back to their normal size but you were still unsure if he had truly meant it. Now Ford's eyes widened and he could feel his lips curl upwards already. "Really?" You just nodded.

Now Ford couldn't help the smile from spreading on his face. This was a huge development! Not only would you not leave your job, you wouldn’t even have to go home - you'd already be home. With Ford!

"Perfect!" He was so excited that his voice came out a little louder than expected. Barely more collected, he continued. "I'll go get a room ready for you." And with that he was off into the house, looking for a room he could move a spare bed into.

Stan stayed behind, watching his brother leave and then turning to you, smirking. "Nice trick ya pulled there. I bet the whole thing was just a stunt to get him to be closer to you, huh?" You furrowed your brows ever so slightly at him.

That, combined with the wide eyes from before made Stan doubt himself. He had never seen so many expressions from you, and on the same day no less!

You let out a sharp breath, looking away from Stan and back to the hallway Ford had disappeared into. "I wish." Stan's expression softened again. "Oh."

By the time your shift had ended and you were about to prepare the meal for Ford, the realization had really hit you. You agreed to move in with Ford. How were you supposed to keep a cool head about that?

You walked into the kitchen where you found Ford drinking a glass of water. His eyes lit up as he saw you enter. You noticed that he had a bit of dust on his cheeks and a little cobweb in his hair.

As you followed his hand with your eyes while he put the glass down, you also noticed that he had rolled the sleeves of his turtleneck up to his elbows, revealing a few scars, grey hairs and strong looking forearms.

It took every bit of strength from you to not immediately drift off into a daydream featuring his strong arms lifting you like you were made of feathers... You took a conscious breath, trying to regain your composure.

Ford hadn't noticed any change in your expressions. He was, however, very excited to show you the room he had prepared for you. It was the room Stan had mostly used for storage of spare parts and also the wax figures before they turned evil.

He proudly told you how he spent the whole day tidying and cleaning the room up before moving a spare mattress in there. "We'll get a real bed soon of course. And other furniture. Whatever you need, really."

Ford looked at you with a big smile on his face and you wanted to cry tears of joy. Instead you looked around the room with wide eyes, taking the actual reality of it in. He was so kind and generous.

Ford felt a pang of worry when you didn’t say anything for a moment. Was this not enough? He could do more, he'd just need a little more time and- "It's perfect."

You turned to face him again. "Thank you." Ford could see the faintest curl of your lips upwards and his breath hitched as his heart skipped a beat. You were smiling at him! That had never happened before.

Ford could feel a warmth spread through his entire body as well as a tingly feeling in his stomach. Were those the metaphorical butterflies he had heard so much about? He made a mental note to research the topic later.

On the same day, you wrote to your landlord that you'd move out by the end of the month. That left you with two weeks to get all your things to the shack. Stan was kind enough to offer to drive you and your belongings a couple of times.

That way, by the end of the two weeks, you handed the keys to your old flat over to the landlord and felt a relief flood through you that you hadn't felt since you had moved to Gravity Falls in the first place.

On the same night, the kids had planned a welcoming party for you, to celebrate your moving in with their grunkles. And them, at least for the summer.

You put your last bag on a chair by the wardrobe Ford had built for you, before Mabel knocked on your door. "Are you ready? Come on, everyone is waiting for you!" A fondness, as well as a sense of belonging filled your heart as you followed her to the living room.

In there, the twins and the kids had prepared a feast of candies and sodas as well as planned the whole night with board games and movies. It was going to be a long night and you were more than happy to be a part of it.

Throughout the night, while handing each other something, you had managed to brush Ford's hand once or twice. Each time causing him to blush a soft red. It was absolutely adorable. The second time Mabel noticed it as well and immediately began gushing about it to Stan and Dipper.

Stan just whispered back: "Yeah. Why do you think she's moving in with us?" At that Mabel's eyes lit up. She had a new mission: Make sure her grunkle and you ended up together.

She turned to Dipper with excitement. "Oh my god. Would that make her our Grauntie?" Dipper laughed at that. "Mabel! Gross!" But even he couldn't deny that the two of you made a cute couple.

As the night dragged on the kids started to get tired and all of you banded together to clean up before Stan brought the kids upstairs.

Ford escorted you to your new room. It even had its own little bathroom now. Ford had put so much effort into making the place nice for you and all you wanted to do was fall around his neck and kiss him about it. But you didn’t dare.

Ford stood in the door frame as you looked around the room once more, taking a deep breath. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I really hope we didn’t scare you off tonight. I know the kids and Stan... and honestly me as well - I know we can be a bit overwhelming at times."

You turned around to look at him. He wasn't serious, right? But he looked honestly apologetic as his eyes landed on you. Then you felt it.

A laugh bubbled up inside you. You put one hand on your belly and the other went up to cover your mouth. The laugh was loud and joyous, letting out all the stress you had held onto for the last couple of months.

Ford looked at you like he had found the most precious diamond in the universe. He didn’t dare breathe in your direction for fear of ruining this magical moment. If it were possible he'd want to live in this moment forever.

After you had settled down again you looked at Ford. He already mourned the absence of the sound. A big genuine smile was left on your face as the remnant of your laughter though and Ford made sure to commit it to his memory.

"I have never felt so much like I belonged as I did today. And it's all thanks to you, Ford." Ford nodded and after a moment, cleared his throat, trying to find his voice. "Anything for you."

A moment of comfortable silence passed between you two as neither wanted the moment to end just yet. Eventually, when Ford heard his brother come back downstairs again, he spoke up.

"Good night." The smile on your face had softened but not fully faded yet. "Good night, Ford." With that he left and closed the door behind him, leaving you alone in your new home. This was truly the start of something magical.

[agaypanic]

its prom season so i was wondering if i could request smth where reese and reader are temporarily broken up and after the prom (when he went with the girl that paid him to go with her) he realizes he wants reader back and they get back together

Get the Girl (Reese Wilkerson X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You and Reese decide to take a break because you don’t think he’s as serious about your shared future as you are. When a girl hires Reese to be her prom date, he realizes just how much he loves you.

A/N: it’s not prom season anymore (sorry about that lol) but here you go

***

“Reese, I think we should take a break.”

You didn’t want to say it, your voice almost broke as you forced out the words. 

“Me too.” He responded, his cheerful tone making you think he was thinking about a different kind of break than you. “Let’s skip math and get some ice cream or something.”

You were right; he had no idea what you meant. “Not that kind of break, Reese.”

“Then what kind of-” Reese slammed his locker shut and looked at the dejected expression on your face. He seemed a bit puzzled, but soon put the pieces together. “Oh.”

“I just…” You sighed. Part of you didn’t want to explain, and part of you felt like Reese wouldn’t care enough to ask for an explanation, but you knew you should tell him why. “I just don’t think you’re that serious about us. Or anything for that matter.”

“I’m serious.”

“Oh really, Reese?” He nodded unconvincingly. “You haven’t applied to any colleges or trade schools, you don’t have any kind of job lined up, and every time I try to talk to you about our future together, you say, ‘Let’s just live with my mom so we don’t have to pay rent.’”

“I still think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s not Reese!” You raised your voice a little out of frustration. “It may be for you, but it’s certainly not for me. I want to have a life with you after high school, and not one that involves sharing a room with your brothers and being cramped in your twin bed.”

Reese let out a tiny laugh, which made you fume. “Y/n, I’d obviously make Dewey switch with us.” He quickly saw that you weren’t as amused as he was. “Babe, I don’t wanna take a break, but what do you want from me? What do you want me to do?”

You groaned, the sadness you had felt earlier being replaced by frustration. “If you still don’t get it after I’ve already told you, then maybe this break is a good thing.”

Reese was about to respond, but was cut off by the warning bell. Giving him one last look, you turned and headed to class. 

***

When you heard that Reese was going to the prom with another girl, you didn’t really know how to feel. Logically, you shouldn’t have felt anything. After all, it was your idea to take a break, so you couldn’t really be mad that he decided to go out with someone else. In fact, it just confirmed the suspicion you had of him not being serious about your relationship. 

But you were still hurt. And you thought you had a right to be, considering you’d been dating Reese for years.

You did your best not to think about him. Prom was supposed to be the highlight of your high school life. But there you were, moping in the auditorium, watching your probably now officially ex-boyfriend dance with another girl. While drinking your punch, you wondered if you should leave now or try to stick it out a little longer.

“Hey, Y/n.”

“Hey, Malcolm.” You responded, a bit surprised by the boy’s presence. “I take it MORP didn’t turn out the way you planned?”

He sighed. “Nope.” He seemed slightly disappointed, but his mood lightened as he looked at the crowd, which was full of both prom and morp goers. “Aren’t you gonna dance?”

“Don’t feel like it.” You answered, finishing your punch.

The two of you stood awkwardly for another song before Malcolm spoke again. “I know I’m not Reese… thank God… but, do you wanna dance?” You gave him a questioning look, wondering why Malcolm was being nice. “Don’t make me regret asking.”

You smiled a little, tossing your empty cup in the trash before nodding. “Okay.”

You and Malcolm danced a bit stiffly around the floor, not really knowing what to do. He wasn’t expecting to dance with his brother’s ex, and you weren’t expecting to dance with your ex’s brother. But after another song or two, you loosened up. You might even go as far as to say you were having a good time. 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the giant room, Reese danced with Jeanine. She was very impressed with how well-behaved he was being. He even threw in a few off-script compliments. Needless to say, she was swooning.

She was so busy swooning that she didn’t notice how Reese’s eyes kept searching for you. When he found you dancing with Malcolm across the floor, he was livid. Why was his brother dancing with you? 

And even worse, why were you seeming to enjoy yourself?

“You’re a really good dancer,” Jeanie said.

Reese was so fixated on you that he forgot he had a part to play. He tried to seem genuine as he looked back at his date. “When I’m with you, it doesn’t even feel like we’re dancing. It’s like we’re floating.”

Jeanie smiled. “I misjudged you, Reese. I just chose you because you were completely hideous, and I knew you wouldn’t have a date. But you’re so much more than that. You’ve made me feel wonderful.”

“It’s been a really great night for me, too.” Reese lied. “You helped me find a little part of me that I didn’t even know was there, the part that isn’t a gigantic jackass.” This came from the heart, however Jeanie wasn’t the person he wanted to say this to. 

“You know…” Jeanie said, seeming a bit shy now from Reese’s kind words that weren’t actually meant for her. “I wasn’t planning on the night ending this way, but why don’t we get out of here, grab a blanket and a bottle of wine and go to the beach.”

“You mean it?” He tried to sound excited, but Reese wanted to take a step away from her. Spending tonight, and the whole week for that matter, with Jeanie, really made him realize that there was only one person he wanted to get drunk on the beach with. 

“Yes, Reese,” Jeanie answered, leaning in close. “I really want you.”

Reese was filled with relief when the alarm on his watch went off, signaling that it was now midnight. Jeanie pulled back a bit in surprise. “It’s twelve already? Too bad. Well, see you at school. And you can just put the money you owe me in my locker.” He started to walk away, leaving his date dumbfounded.

“Reese, where are you going?”

The boy turned around, still inching away from her as he pointed at his watch. “It’s midnight. I’m off the clock.” Then he turned back around, the girl’s confused protests fading away as he walked further away. Now, only one thing was on his mind: getting his girl back.

“Oh God.” Malcolm looked at something behind you, seemingly terrified.

“What?” Instead of answering, the boy quickly scurried off. You turned around just in time for Reese to grab your face and pull you into a deep and desperate kiss. At first, you melted into his touch, completely overwhelmed by the affection. But then you remembered your situation, pulling away despite your hesitancy and his protests. “Reese, what are you doing?”

“I love you.”

“Okay…?”

That wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for, but he supposed it was fair. Reese gently pushed you away from the crowd of dancers, hoping to have a somewhat private conversation. “I love you, Y/n. And I know you don’t think I’m serious about us, but I am. This is so corny, and you can never tell anyone, but you make me a better person. And I want you to keep making me better.”

“So you want me to put in all the work?” You knew it was a bit mean to argue with Reese when he was being vulnerable, something that was rare even when he was with you. 

But it didn’t seem to deter him. “No! Of course not. I wanna…” He trailed off, realizing how cliche he was about to sound. “I wanna be with you. Maybe have our own apartment after graduation. And maybe I could go to a cooking school or something. And one day, I’ll have enough money to get you a ring, because I want to be with you.” Reese took a much-needed breath. “I’m sorry it took me being on a date with another girl to appreciate you.”

You were rendered speechless. Reese wasn’t usually a man of many words, especially not this many words. And he was rarely vulnerable, even with you.

“Say something,” Reese said, getting worried. He wondered if he said the wrong thing or went too far. Maybe when you talked about your future with him, you didn’t mean that far into the future. Or maybe he shouldn’t have brought up Jeanie, or the fact that he needed to be with someone else in order to realize how much you meant to him.

Reese’s train of thought was interrupted by you launching yourself at him, arms tightly winding around his neck. He wobbled a little in surprise, but hugged you back like it was second nature.

“That’s all I wanted.” You muttered, kissing Reese’s cheek. “And I love you too.”

Reese sighed in relief, pulling you closer against him. Eventually, the two of you ended up back on the dancefloor. But this time, you were finally with the person you wanted to dance with.

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol

Reese Wilkerson Taglist: @hollymaybank @theogirlovermattheogirl

[flippinpancakes64]

Would you write about the Cullen's and their first date with the reader

First date with the Cullens

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He pulls all the stops for your first date

He goes the very traditional route

He makes reservations at a really fancy restaurant, takes you to the museum, and then takes you home

He’s a bit nervous tbh

Even though he’s known you for months, he still wants to make a good “first” impression

After the date he takes you back to the Cullen house to meet all of his family for the first time

He tells them to behave beforehand

Mostly Rosalie and Jasper but still

Alice:

She just showed up at your house one day and told you to get in the car

She took you to a pottery studio ❤️

She made a mug and on the inside it said “date me?”

So that was your first date

You didn’t even know it was a date

After that she took you to a flower garden

She made you a bouquet that was literally bigger than your head

She’s not nervous

She knows you’ll love it

Jasper:

Ok so if we’re talking about people who would be nervous

This man’s shaking

He doesn’t let it show though

He shows up at your door to pick you up in a suit and tie holding a bouquet

He takes you on a boat ride on one of Carlisle's little yachts

You both admire the view of the city skyline at night

He brings you food that Esme cooked

Give him a little kiss and see what happens ;)

Spoiler alert he jumps into the water

He needs to calm down after that lol

Rosalie:

It's Kate and Garrett's wedding yay

And this girl you've been like sort of really interested in just asked you to be her plus one

AKA Rosalie

So for your first date with the pretty vampire lady from school you get to fly to Canada to attend a big fancy wedding of even more pretty vampires

yippee

I just want to really stress how quick this is

Like bringing some guy you just met to the family reunion vibes

But anyway

Your first date is spent dancing the night away and chatting it up with all of the vampires there

The Denalis were nice enough to doordash you something

Very stressful first date

But hey at least you'll never forget it

Emmett:

He would try to be so sneaky

Like you would have been talking for a couple of months

And then one day he's like

"Omg you're not gonna believe this but I was walking around town yesterday and someone dropped these tickets! They're for your favorite artist and there's two of them! Would you want to go with me?"

Like you're not sly, sir

But you say yes of course

He picks you up and takes you and you guys have a great time

At the end of the night on the drive back home he makes a guilty confession that he lied and that he actually bought the tickets

You just laugh

Esme:

I feel like she would ask you out to do something disguised as just asking you but really it's a date

She asked you to go do something with her

But it turned out actually being a date

She takes you to the movies and to a big craft fair

She buys you anything you want

Will not kiss you on the first date btw

Sorry that's like a fifth date thing

Carlisle:

I think he wants to do something fun

Like rent out a trampoline park or do one of those flying simulators

Or even an arcade

Like something super fun

But I think he'd choose the trampoline park

And then pay the employees extra to leave the building completely so it's just you two

He gets the zoomies like crazy

He's so fast

And the trampolines make him even faster

And it's so fun when he runs with you

Vampire! Bella:

I think she'd try too hard

She would talk about how nervous she was to Alice and she would take over

Thus leading to a very nice candlelit dinner at the Cullen house

That Bella absolutely hates

She feels stuffy in her dress and she's not having fun

It feels too formal

So like a week later she asks for another first date to try again

This time she does what she wants

She takes you down to the beach to watch the waves and just chat

She packs some food for you and you guys just talk for hours

She thinks she did a better job the second time :)

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: This Confession Has Meant Nothing (Yandere Derek Goffard x Reader)

Title: This Confession Has Meant Nothing [Yandere Derek Goffard x Reader]

For Horrorfest request:

I don't have much of an idea beyond Derek as Patrick Bateman style serial killer. You're his final girl/boy. Surviving his spree.  he hates how fascinated he is with you.

Word Count: 748

notes: yandere, mentions of killing, derek wants to (maybe) kill you; reader is a sex worker

You are one, stupid ugly piece of shit. You’re worthless. Gutter trash. So far beneath him that you’re almost not worthy of killing; not worthy of him scuffing his shoes, handcrafted genuine leather that costs more than rent at your shitty apartment for a year. More, maybe. 

You are nothing. Just some bones and a meat suit, just something to bide his time with, something for him to (maybe) fuck and film and when he’s bored enough, dissect. He even tells you his real name (Derek Goffard, and you looked impressed, and you SHOULD BE) because he’s going to kill you so why not? 

You’re just something to discard with the morning trash, the morning paper, maybe his nice shoes too because he can buy a new pair whenever he fucking wants. An inconsequential speck.

And yet.

He can’t stop thinking about you. 

About the way your lip curled up at him when you realized what he’d done to Susie or Cheryl or whatever her name was. Doesn’t matter. A woman he bought for the night after he bought you, and you were pretending to get along so well that for a moment he assumed your first reaction to seeing her bleeding out from the knife sounds in her torso would be to reach out. Grief. Horror. Shock.

But no. Instead, you’d looked at him… straight at him… like you had the fucking right And you sneered. Actually sneered! With this look of hatred in your eyes that told him you thought you were better than him, that he was shit and you were gold.

You really were fucking stupid, weren’t you? 

But then how--and the thought creeps into his brain and he smacks it out viscerally with his hand--did you get away from him? How did you make it out of the condo, into the hallway, down the stairs (ALL those stairs) and out the front door into the night? How hasn’t he found you yet?

Maybe you didn’t have to be smart to survive. Yeah. That made sense. Animals survive in the wild all the time, don’t they? Not all rabbits are eaten by wolves. Some are just fast enough to scurry off into some hole to hide out in, to live another day, to fuck and breed and repeat the cycle until they are either roadkill or fall prey to an eagle or some shit like that.

You were his rabbit. 

But he wasn’t going to let you get away. He couldn’t imagine you getting away, cleaning yourself up, getting out of the city. You’d get some job that pays the rent and meet someone; maybe you two would have kids, and you’d be a grandparent or something ridiculous like that, decades down the line.

No.

That wasn’t what he wanted for you. Not when he’d killed so many others in the past few weeks. Not when he recognized you for what you were: his, in some way. His to kill. His to finish with. 

Yeah, that would be nice. After he killed you, he’d take a break from it for a while. Maybe see if he could get a promotion at his dad’s business. Find someone to get engaged with--appearances, and all that--and pop out a kid. He could always go back to killing if he felt like it.

That’s the way the world works. He was allowed to kill because he was richer and smarter and better looking. You were going to die because you were nothing beneath his (expensive) shoes. 

He just has to find you first. Oh, and when he does… he presses his face against the car window, breath fogging it up. He can just imagine what he’ll do to you. Hurt you. Kill you. Keep you? All three sounded enticing.

His fingers itch, his cock goes hard, just thinking about it.

The street lights are dim in this part of the city, but bright enough for people to make out the faces on the corners, the curve of bodies standing close to the curb. 

If you ran, you might have run right back here; where you ply your trade and get your drugs and maybe have a few people you call friends. It’s where he picked you up the first time, after all.

And he’s got all the time and money in the world to track you down again.

[godhandler]

Rent A BF!

#2 | young toji fushiguro x reader | fluff, mentions of prostitution and related violence, period accurate and sometimes offensive terminology | 880 words

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31st December, 1995 | 11.57 AM  

20th May, 1996

In his months-long career as a rental boyfriend (and before that as a full-on prostitute), Toji has seen many different sorts of people who pay for company and, yes, sex. Most are older gay men who enjoy feeling young, many of whom are conservative family men who called it an ‘occasional treat’- getting fucked up the ass while being called sissies. And then they go right back to being firebrand homophobes. They amused Toji the most. Now Toji wasn’t gay, but when he took on those customers, he was homeless– so same results, really. 

No, Toji didn’t like his job, but he took it like a champ. Blamed it on capitalism like the rest of us all.

After a couple of very satisfied male clients, he was deemed worthy to graduate to women. Unlike men, there were no ugly women clients. The only women who look for a male prostitute are rich ones, and rich women are never ugly. It’s a cardinal sin of wealth.

Toji would know. Though he could only lick the scraps, he once sat at the elite tables too. 

All his clients, men or women, ugly or otherwise, were lonely. Toji couldn’t judge them for it, he was lonely too. Sitting in front of you at the café shop, he wondered about your degree of loneliness. 

“Would you want another boba milkshake, Toji-kun?” 

“No, miss. But the truffle cake looks heavenly.” 

Usually Toji got the requests to play the Big Strong Boyfriend (bless his incredible heaven-gifted physique). The type to fight for your honour if someone even looked wrong at you. But you had simply asked for, in the words of the receptionist,  a normal chill guy.

He could do that, easy as pie. He could also get truffle cake while doing that. You look lonely enough to pay for whatever he asked. 

“Miss, would you mind us getting the seasonal fruit platter too? It looks great, and frankly, I haven’t had much except for ramen these past few days.” 

Toji liked to push boundaries, see how much you would spend before you told him off. Instead of his company-issued suit and tie, he’d just worn his loose white sweater (ketchup stain at the hem), jogging pants and sockless Crocs. Hey, if you asked for a scrappy dude, Toji would show you real scrappy.

“Sure, order it.” Yup, lonely as hell. I could squeeze easy money out of her. It’s hard to contain the delight in his face. He’d live like a king the next couple of months. “Eat well, Toji-kun. You know what to do when we get home, right?”

Eyes on the waiter bringing his truffle cake, he nods, his milkshake forming a cream mustache on him that you wiped off with a tissue. Compared to free boba and truffle cakes and fruit platters, the sex was definitely one of his lesser favoured parts of the job. 

...

I take it back, he grumbles to himself as you started another episode of Dragon Ball Z, all his clothes still on him. You sternly instructed him to enjoy the show: breaking into shoulder-shaking laughs and nodding eagerly at your commentary as Vegata fights that dried Egyptian cat.  I’d rather get pegged with an axe than take anymore of this. 

8k yen per hour. He chants in his head. His cheeks hurt from fake laughing. Osaka boating summer. 

The dried cat wins. 

“Ey, O-Toji!”

Said Toji finds Shiki sitting on the broken wall of his apartment compound after he comes back from your house. Unlike your residential colony, Minami-Senju is the part of Tokyo that nice women with LV purses avoid. The Tokugawa shoguns used to execute their criminals here, the evil ghosts of whom the women say they’re avoiding the area for, and definitely not the melting-pot of urban poverty that resided here. At the time when Tokyo was trying to modernise itself, all the undesirables of the city poured into Minami-Senju: low-level Yakuza goons, Filipino street-hawkers, prostitutes, ex-prostitutes turned single mothers, Indian truck-drivers, transgenders, convicts hiding from the police, army veterans handicapped from the war 45 years ago, gambling addicts, runaway kids, and the worst of them all– Koreans. 

Shiki managed to hit several of these categories. He was a runaway kid, transgender, prostitute, and a gambling addict. It was one of those chains of events that makes you understand the whole story at once. “Toji-sama! I’ve got ye the ticket ye wanted!” 

He used to get beat up by his clients until Toji moved to the neighbourhood last January. That’s my boyfriend, Shiki would lie. Toji’s gonna kill you if you don’t pay up now. And Toji might not have shown it, but he was actually so happy to make his first friend. 

“80085! Now thass the golden number!” Shiki waved the lottery ticket at Toji. “I’ll let ye have it if ye give me 5 cups of ramen.” 

“Nah, I've won the lottery already.” Toji flashed Shiki a wide grin, walking up the steps to his apartment. Shiki jogs along. “This lady I’ve bagged is richie rich. And get this– I don’t even have to lick a single cunt. She makes me watch dogshit cartoons and pays me a million yen.” Shiki’s mouth hangs open. “5 cups of ramen? Nuh-uh, we’re getting grilled pork today. Dinner’s on me, Shiki, I’m motherfucking rich!” 

You’re definitely the best sort of customer he’s ever had.

previous next series masterlist

a/n: divider. i love strangergraphic's collections of dividers so much. the tone of the fic was heavily inspired by @jimlingss's Student Council Prez, fantastic series do check it out! on the same note, we need to document the impact bts had on fanfiction.

Shiki is supposed to be from the provinces and have a provincial accent, maybe something seaside? up to the reader really.

[blades-edge]

False God | Chapter 1

Chapter Summary: Cooper tries to fill the hole in his heart by drowning himself in you.

Pairing: Pre-War!Cooper Howard x f!escort!reader

Chapter warnings: mentions of depression, angst, joking about cowboys in a sexy way ig??, thigh touching, alcohol consumption, brief allusions to masturbation (m)

Words: 3k

A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of my Cooper fic! I am so excited I was finally able to finish it and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing this <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 Link

Cooper had grown used to the emptiness of his apartment. It was significantly smaller than his mansion in Los Angeles. He missed his garden and being able to spend hot summer days in the sun, enjoying a drink while he watched Janey play with Roosevelt. 

The divorce wasn’t kind to him. When the entire process had first started, he had been trying to play it cool. Keep his composure, go on with his life as if nothing had happened – but that just didn’t work for him. His job used to be his anchor, but even that was a thing of the past now, considering that barely any studio wanted to affiliate themselves with a Vault-Tec sympathiser. None of them knew what he did after all. He didn’t even want to know what would happen if he brought the things he knew – or at least assumed about Vault-Tec – to the press and therefore to the public. Maybe everyone would call him crazy on top of it all.  

But he couldn’t really risk his own life and more importantly Barb and Janey’s just to maybe have a chance at bringing an evil company down. If anything Barb had told him about the Vaults were true then he hoped that she and Janey would be safe when the bombs will fall. It wasn’t a question of ‘What iff’ for him anymore. He knew it would happen sooner or later. Somehow, he seemed to know it in his bones. And the political situation wasn’t really making him feel more positive about the whole ordeal.

In all the sitcoms and movies, they never seemed to talk about the emptiness one could feel after a divorce. His new apartment seemed empty despite the new furniture. The only beacon of hope he had was Roosevelt, but even the food from his fridge didn’t seem to taste the same. Cooper hadn’t been heartbroken since he finished High School. He never had the time for it and his marriage had eventually been just as he had always dreamed as a child. Barb and him rarely argued. Until it all slowly came to an end. Coop didn’t know how to live on his own anymore. 

He was surviving off a few small gigs at parties, always donning his iconic cowboy outfit. Of course, he wasn’t oblivious to the whispers behind his back. 

‘Look what he has to resort to now..’

‘That is Cooper Howard?’

Cooper tried to shut all their voices out of his head. He had enough to worry about already. Paying his aliments to Barb, paying his rent, trying to stay afloat – somehow. 

If his days were lonely, all of his nights spent alone seemed to be even worse. That’s where he had time to think and he didn’t want to think about everything that was going on around him. His cigarettes and the whiskey stored in his fridge quickly became his best friends during all those lonely nights. But they still didn’t fill the gaping hole he seemed to carry in his chest. Everything felt meaningless. Life was only a combination of small moments anymore. 

All the good moments he had were the days with his daughter, but there was nothing else that could really make Cooper feel happy or fulfilled. 

He craved the feeling of waking up next to a woman again. To feel her kiss him in the morning and to touch her body. This almost reminded him of how he felt as a green teenager, when he had only dreamed about having someone at his side. 

It wasn’t really a surprise to him that his hand didn’t feel the same as a woman’s touch did. Gosh, he even rummaged through a few boxes to pull up old pornographic holo-tapes, but even those didn’t really do it for him anymore. At least now how they used to in the past. 

His next decision was really a manifestation of his desperation. 

Coop stared at the newspaper on his kitchen counter. There were several ads on the page and one of them was able to offer just what he wanted. He took a deep breath, staring at the phone on his wall and then turning his gaze back to the number on the paper. 

His last gig had paid rather well and he thought that calling a sex worker might fill the hole in his chest for just a few hours. A few years ago, he could have never imagined going this far, but… he was lonely – and desperate in a way. Sex would take his mind off things and give him enough of an illusion for one night. More than the whiskey could. 

“It’s worth a try...” He mumbled to himself and then started to type the number into his phone. 

Business had been quiet the last few days. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint why that might be, but you were glad when a call came in eventually. Sex work wasn’t really something society seemed to be proud of, but you knew the numbers of lonely men that called your and other women’s numbers were significantly higher than most people would expect. 

It wasn’t just you working here. Multiple women operated under the “Sweet Nights” brand. You were just a small part in the great scheme of things. 

Your work certainly paid enough for you to entertain a decent, but not overly luxurious life in Los Angeles. Your small apartment was nothing compared to the big mansions up in Beverly Hills. Yet it was enough. 

The red lipstick stood in contrast to your black dress, correcting its straps around your shoulders as soon as Jimmy, the manager of “Sweet Nights”, informed you of your next client. This would be the first and the last for your day, considering that it had been a pretty quiet week night for everyone. On the weekend, calls were more much frequent and you could sometimes do three clients in one day. 

Every girl here had different prices. You were somewhere in the middle. Most middle-class men were able to book you, but sometimes, a man wanted to take you out for more than just sex for which you were able to demand a higher price. If you were honest, you preferred that to the simple act of offering sex and then leaving again. You certainly didn’t want to turn down a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant which was probably the best part your job had to offer. 

“Is Alan going to drive me?” You asked. Alan was the driver you had worked with the most so far. He was always in a good mood and often enough, he even lifted yours as well. You would share a cigarette or two before or after a client and he’d sometimes even drive you bring some food for you to enjoy after work. Alan was probably your best friend in this business, if you thought about all the people you’ve encountered so far. You got along well with some other women in here as well, but you couldn’t call those intimate friendships. 

Sustaining a relationship was also not an easy task given the nature of your job. So far, you hadn’t really been that lucky to find a man accepting of your situation, but you were of the firm belief that you could never know what was going to happen in the future. 

“I think so. You still have half an hour, so take it slow.” Jimmy was always kind to you as well, but he did have the attitude of a businessman. Nothing made him more happy than seeing the cash flow in and while you were always on time and working hard, you had seen him treat other women differently – especially the ones that weren’t on time and not bringing in a lot of money. 

You had been working at the “Sweet Nights” establishment for multiple years, so you had generated a few regular clients with time. For a man like Jimmy, there was rarely anything better. It meant a steady cash flow and for you, it meant being able to spend time with people you already knew in a way and they usually didn’t make you uncomfortable at all. However, getting attached was strictly forbidden. You didn’t want to breach the border between your professional life and your private one. 

Jimmy took his leave rather quickly then, leaving you to your preparations. You made sure to take your birth control before you were heading out, not wanting to risk forgetting it on accident if you were to stay the night at the client’s. 

Alan was already waiting for you at the door when you made your way to the car. “Hello, beautiful,” he greeted you, placing a small kiss on the back of your hand before he helped you into the passenger seat of the black car. 

Soft jazz music was playing through the radio as you drove to the client’s apartment. It wasn’t too far away from the “Sweet Nights” establishment as you were able to arrive there in under ten minutes. The apartment block in front of you looked simple and it made you quite certain that your client was probably part of the middle class. You had been to fancier homes, but it felt good to be able to ring a bell without going through two security checks on your way inside. 

Alan always took his time to wait until you were safely inside. There had been a few times where a client didn’t open the door and your friend drove you home instead. 

But this wouldn’t be one of those nights. 

When you pushed against the door, it opened for you. You turned around briefly to wave goodbye at your driver, before heading up the stairs to the apartment on the second floor. The sound of your high heels echoed off the beige walls and as you looked up the staircase, you could already see a man waiting by the apartment door. 

You always tried to meet your clients without any specific expectations towards them, but when the man came fully into view, you could feel your heart skip a beat. This wasn’t just any man. This was Cooper Howard. 

Ex-Movie Star and a new favourite topic in every local gossip magazine. You had read about his divorce as it was almost impossible to avoid the matter these days. Additionally, you were pretty sure you had seen just about every movie he had ever starred in. 

“Good evening,” you greeted him, the smile coming to you quite easily as you thought of the fond memories you had from watching his movies. Cooper extended his hand to you almost immediately, shaking it in a gentle manner. “Good evening to you too. Feel free to come inside.” His smile was a polite one as he stepped to the side and let you in. 

His apartment clearly wasn’t anything you expected from America’s most famous cowboy, but you knew times were probably a bit rougher for him now. There were a few paintings along the hallway wall, but the interior was nothing fancy. It wasn’t cheap either, but your job had brought you to many Hollywood mansions before and this apartment didn’t have even the slightest resemblance to any of them. 

Cooper walked past you slowly. After so many years of working as an escort, you could tell that this was his first time. He looked a little lost, shy even. You were not here to judge about it though, you were here to make him feel good. 

“Would you like something to drink? Wine perhaps?” You followed him into the kitchen, watching him as he let his hands restlessly move over the edge of the kitchen island. His face was still displaying the same smile he had greeted you with, but there was clearly a nervousness to his eyes. They were frantically moving from the counter to you and back again. 

“Wine is good. I don’t really have a preference,” you assured him with a smile, leaning against the other side of the counter. He gave you a quick nod before he looked for two wine glasses and searched through a small cupboard to retrieve a new bottle for you both. 

When the two glasses were filled, you leaned forward a little, supporting yourself against the counter as you looked at the man with a smirk. Cooper pushed your glass over to you, pointing at the living room next door then. “How about you… join me on the couch?”

His voice sounded strained and his hold around the glass seemed a little concerning for its fragility, but you didn’t hesitate to give the movie star an approving nod. “I would love to, Mr Howard.”

You could tell he tensed up a little at the mention of his name, so you quietly took note of that. 

“Call me Cooper,” he offered, leading you into the small living room. While he sat down on the far left end of the couch, you didn’t bother to sit down on the opposite end. Instead, you got comfortable right next to him, a quick invitation that he could touch you if he wanted. 

And Cooper did want to. But his mind was clouded with many things. This experience was completely new to him, but you were absolutely gorgeous in that black dress and he was very curious to see what was underneath it. He was only a man too after all, but–

You clinked your wine glass against his and he was pulled back into the reality of things. His eyes drifted over your body, a hint of longing appearing in them and you could feel yourself smile a little more at that. Cooper wasn’t showing you disinterest, but you could feel the insecurity inside him. 

This job brought you close to many different people and you would be a fool to assume that Cooper wasn’t struggling with the divorce. This wasn’t a rare scenario at all – many men were asking for your services when they wanted to fill the hole left behind by their beloved wives.  

While you took the first sip from your wine, you made sure to keep eye contact up with Cooper. It was enough to send a cold shiver down his spine and let his free hand claw at the arm rest of the couch. 

He took a sip from his drink as well, before placing the glass down on the small table in front of him. 

His lips parted for a moment, ready to form words, but you were quick to place a hand on his arm. Just a gentle touch. Not too much if he didn’t want it yet. “I know this is your first time. I can tell. And… we can do it all in whatever pace you’d prefer.” 

For a moment, the man seemed a little surprised by your words, but his expression quickly changed to a softer one. “Thank you. I appreciate it. I’m–”

What was he even trying to say? Cooper didn’t want to come across as an inexperienced teenager or the like, but he also didn’t want to seem too desperate. Even though he was. His body was clearly desperate. 

“It’s alright.” Maybe a little bit of light conversation might help him, so you took the time to let your eyes wander over his appearance. His brown hair was brushed back neatly and it definitely looked like he had shaved this morning. There was a simple, but beautiful ring adorning his finger, but you were sure it was not his former wedding band. His beige pants and the dark blue sweater were a lot more casual than your own outfit, but you had always been sure that Cooper Howard would look good in anything. 

Would his movies be a good topic to start with? Tell him that you were a fan? 

“I’ve loved your movies for years, you know?”

The look in his eyes changed. His curiosity seemed to give way to disappointment and hurt. Probably the wrong topic. Too sensitive or too personal. 

Your throat seemed to tighten and you were ready to apologise when Cooper interrupted you. 

“Isn’t it a strange thought that… I’m now asking you to have sex with me in a way?” His eyebrows were pushed together in confusion and you didn’t know how to answer at first. 

Of course, it wasn’t what you had expected, but saying you were displeased with the idea would be a lie. 

“No. It’s exciting, actually. Maybe cowboys have always been my thing.”

Cooper’s laugh was quite infectious. He had a big smile, a beautiful one too. His shoulders seemed to relax a little and he eventually put an his arm on the couch behind you. 

“What’s the saying? Save a horse, ride a cowboy?” His voice had grown a little deeper and while you were still able to watch his right hand hold tightly onto the arm rest next to him, a little bit of doubt had probably left him. 

You decided to weigh in on that. 

“I would never say no to a man like you, of course. Definitely worth saving that horse.” 

Another laugh. 

For the first time in a while, the harmless banter seemed to clear his mind off a few worries. Yes, it was a sensitive topic, but you approached it with enough ease that it didn’t seem all that awful anymore to Cooper. 

His left hand eventually moved down to your thigh, gently holding onto it as he searched for your eyes again. 

And before you could really think a lot about it, you kissed the former movie star, maybe a little too eager. 

Yet he was all for it. Your lips felt like a relief he hadn’t experienced in a long time and as he leaned in for more, he was certain that if nothing else could drown out the worries in his mind, your lips would surely be able to quiet his thoughts – even if it was just temporary. 

[tilebytiles]

infallible beliefs - a.t. (part 1)

summary: as it turns out, professors are actually capable of feeling things, and alex feels more things for you than he’d like to. word count: 7.8k warnings: age gap (reader is 21 and alex is 30), mentions of violence, abuse (physical, emotional and financial) a/n: the reason he's 30 is bc i personally didn't feel comfortable writing an age gap bigger than that ! lets all just use our imaginations and pretend that the looks are there </3

you liked to consider yourself the kind of person that had everything together. to some degree, you thought you did — you went to school and kept your grades up, you had a part-time job at a local pet store that you loved, and you shared a lovely flat with your boyfriend of three years. by all appearances, you had your life together. but that was the exact issue, wasn’t it? what good were appearances supposed to be when you constantly felt like you were on the brink of falling apart?

coffee in hand, you rushed into the english building and made a beeline for your british literature professor’s classroom. due to the smaller size of your class, it was never in one of the lecture halls, meaning lessons always felt more intimate. you knew everyone’s names — you couldn’t say the same for the astronomy class you’d taken during your first year, or the nutrition class you were taking this term in an effort to chip away at your electives. you were normally one of the more participatory students, asking questions and answering any your professor posed to the class. your love for literature ran deep, hence why you intended on getting your degree in english. it was easy for you to be invested in the lessons.

“good morning, ms. l/n,” your professor called from the desk at the front. he was doing something on his laptop, presumably trying to get the slides for today pulled up.

you smiled softly at him. “good morning, mr. turner.” you walked to your usual seat and set your bag down on the floor, settling down into the chair. your coffee felt like it would run cold soon if you didn’t finish it.

you were in your third year of university — in the middle of the spring term — and mr. turner was the nicest professor you’d ever met. you’d taken one of his classes before, and when the term had ended, you were half-tempted to sign up for every class he was offering. would half of them even fit into your schedule? no. did you really care? also no. there was something about him that made his class actually enjoyable; maybe it was the way he spoke — soft yet sure, polite even when he was being forced to listen to the stupidest thing he’d ever heard — or the way he presented material, like he was genuinely interested in it and he wanted you to be, too. whatever it was, you were utterly captivated.

the clock struck 10am, and mr. turner shut the door to the room before turning to the class. “good morning, everyone. today, i thought we could discuss charlotte brönte and the impact of her writing, most notably jane eyre.”

rent was due soon. you needed to remind john to pay it. speaking of john, he’d told you to ask for a raise at the pet store, but you really didn’t think you needed it. your current wage was enough, wasn’t it? plus, you didn’t want to come off as money-hungry by demanding more pay out of nowhere. was he concerned about money? you knew the two of you had enough. you took a sip from your coffee and tried not to make a face; it was lukewarm. in your eyes, coffee either had to be piping hot or freezing cold to be enjoyed. you preferred iced coffee; the risk of frying your taste buds prevented you from chugging hot coffee as soon as you got it, so you tended to opt for iced instead. you were suddenly glad you didn’t try to get john coffee; he would be as displeased by the temperature as you were. he only liked hot coffee. would you see him for lunch? if you did, you could remind him about rent then. you hoped he wouldn’t want to go back to your flat to eat.

“ms. l/n?”

the sound of mr. turner’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, and you looked up at him. “i’m sorry?”

his expression didn’t change, but you could have sworn you noticed a subtle shift in his eyes. “i asked what you thought of the feminism in jane eyre.”

“oh, uh …” silence filled the classroom, the kind that was all-consuming and threatened to swallow you, your classmates and your professor whole. there was a metallic thunk as someone near the back set their water bottle down. you looked down at your notes, as if they’d save you, but you’d written a whole of three sentences before clocking out. speaking of clocks, what time was it? how long had you been deep in your own thoughts?

you finally acted as your own saviour and managed a meek, “i think it’s a product of its time.”

mr. turner’s eyebrows rose almost imperceptibly, and he nodded slowly. you were waiting for him to point out your spacing out to the rest of the class, but he said nothing of the sort. all he said was, “that could be argued, yes. brönte didn’t write jane as a hyper-feminist that smashed all stereotypes and expectations of women in the 1800s. in fact, many have argued that jane eyre has no true feminism due to jane’s submission to gender roles by the end of the novel …”

the rest of the lesson went by in as much of a blur as the first half did, except now you were actually trying to pay attention. eventually, mr. turner dismissed all of you, and the room was filled with bags unzipping and the clacking of pencils and pens being picked up off desks. you got your things together and stood from your seat, preparing to head out (and throw out your disgustingly cold coffee on the way). you were stopped, however, by the sound of your professor’s voice as he said, “ms. l/n, could I have a word with you, please?”

you made a quick trip to the bin beside the door and tossed out your coffee cup, then circled back around and stepped towards the desk at the front of the room. mr. turner had looked down for just a moment, marking something on a sheet of paper, but as you grew closer, he looked up, offering you a small smile. it did nothing to calm your nerves. gulping slightly, you said, “you wanted to speak to me?”

“yes. it’s about your …” he looked off to the side as he searched for the right word. “… inattentiveness in class recently.”

the alarm bells sounded in your head, and your brain was a breath away from sending a signal to your legs to get you the fuck out of there. sensing your impending panic, he quickly added, “you’re not in trouble, i promise.”

your brain halted. “oh. i’m not?”

“no. believe me, you’re not the first student i’ve had zone out during my lessons.” he waved his hand dismissively as he spoke, as if trying to shoo away your worries. “however, it is strange coming from you. you’re normally a very active participant, but recently, you’ve hardly spoken. i just wanted to know if something was going on.”

you didn’t know if you were relieved or even more scared. “no, i’m fine,” you replied, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “i guess i’ve just had a lot on my mind, is all.”

“well, you can always talk to me if you just need somewhere to dump your thoughts. you’re one of my best students, and i wouldn’t want to see you fail.” he smiled again, and you managed a small smile in return. you appreciated his offer, although you weren’t sure if you’d be using it anytime soon. you didn’t want to burden him in any way.

you hadn’t noticed the way his gaze latched onto your wrist. at least, not until his brows furrowed. he raised his hand, but didn’t touch your wrist, just gestured to it. “where did that come from?”

you looked at your wrist, equally as confused as he was, and saw the small bruise that had formed just below where the bone protruded. the alarm bells started back up, and your brain began drafting up that signal for your legs. “oh.” you gulped. “it’s nothing. i just bumped into a table in my flat.”

his eyes narrowed, and his hand dropped back to his side. “are you sure that’s all it is?”

“i’m fine, mr. turner,” you said quickly, already turning around to leave. “i appreciate the concern, really, but i’m just clumsy. i have to go now.” you beelined for the door. “see you on friday!”

“… right. have a good day, ms. l/n.”

it took everything in you to not run down the hall and slam through the doors. you forced yourself to keep your pace at a brisk walk, gently pushing the doors open once you reached them. you spotted john’s car in the nearby parking lot with relative ease and headed towards it, cursing yourself internally for the shitty excuse you’d made for mr. turner. bumping into a table? really?

as you slipped into the passenger seat and settled your bag into your lap, john leaned over the console and kissed your cheek. “how’d your class go?”

“it went okay.”

you secured your seatbelt, and john reached over, gently grabbing your wrist. he turned it over, examining the bloom of purple by the bone. “why didn’t you try to cover this up with makeup?”

“i was in a rush this morning. i didn’t think to.”

his grip tightened, his fingers digging into the bruise and making you wince. “no one saw it, did they?”

“no.” you didn’t dare mention your professor’s questioning.

“good.” he released your wrist, then put the car in reverse and looked up at the rearview mirror as he began backing out of the parking spot.

the car ride was silent as john drove the two of you to wherever he planned to take you for lunch (not your flat — you’d already passed the street he would normally turn onto). you were content to stare blankly out the window the whole time, but he had other ideas. “you know i love you, right?”

you looked over at him, a little surprised. “yeah,” you said quietly. “i know.”

“i would never intentionally try to hurt you like that, baby. last night was just …” he sighed and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “i was just frustrated, that’s all.”

the frustration in question arose when you had asked if you could buy the starry night lego set. van gogh was one of your favourite artists, and you’d been dying to get the set since it had first released. when you told him what the price was, though, john was practically seeing red. the bruise did come from a table, but it was less because you’d bumped into it and more because he had shoved you and sent you crashing down against it. you had apologised and promised to never bring the set up again.

“i love you, y/n,” he said, dragging you out of your thoughts and back into the car.

“i know,” you repeated. you couldn’t remember the last time you had said you loved him.

the car eventually came to a stop, and you looked up, spotting the café he had brought you to. the two of you had eaten there a few times before; you quite enjoyed the food, although john wasn’t very fond of coming because he was convinced the male waiter stared at you. the last time you were here, you’d made a point of checking for stares, and every time you looked, the waiter’s eyes were nowhere near catching yours. you kept that to yourself, though, not wanting to have a shouting match with your boyfriend in the middle of lunch.

as you both headed for the door, you wondered if this was his way of trying to make amends. you knew it would take a lot more than a lunch date for you to forgive him, but you at least appreciated his efforts; it was better than him doing nothing at all, right? his fingers were stiff between yours as he held your hand just a bit too tight to be comfortable, guiding you through the café as the employee behind the counter led you to an open table. you sat down across each other, and the employee informed you your waitress would be with you in a couple of minutes before disappearing, presumably to return to her post. you picked up one of the menus and opened it up, quickly scanning the options available to you.

sure enough, your waitress came just a couple of minutes later, notepad in hand. “hey, friends,” she said with a warm smile. you liked her already. “my name is alina, and i’ll be your waitress. what can i get you guys to drink?”

“can i have a margarita, please?” john asked, looking up from his menu.

alina nodded and quickly jotted it down before looking to you. you did your best to return her smile and said, “just water, please.”

“alright, a margarita and some water. i’ll be back with those drinks as quick as i can, and then we’ll get going on food, okay?”

“thank you,” you said, watching as she departed from your table. you eventually looked back over at john, doing your best to mask your mild disapproval. “are you sure you should be drinking this early in the day?”

he scoffed. “y/n, i can hold my alcohol. i’ll be fine.”

“but you’re driving —”

“i’ll be fine,” he repeated, his voice growing cold. you nodded and looked back down at the menu, pretending to suddenly be interested in the café’s sandwich selection.

eventually, alina returned with john’s margarita and your water and set both drinks down on the table before getting her notepad back out. “what can i get you guys today?”

“i’ll have the salmon benedict with a side of chips, please,” john said, looking down at his menu before looking up at alina.

she nodded and wrote down his order before turning to you. “and for you?”

“she’ll have the caesar salad.”

she looked back at john, slightly surprised, but nodded and wrote it down anyway. “will that be all for you two?”

“yup.”

“alright, i’ll get this to the kitchen.” she smiled at the two of you and collected your menus before departing once more.

john reached over the table and lightly tapped your nose. “hey. what’s wrong?”

“hm?” you looked up at him. “nothing.”

“you could try to look happier, you know.” you sighed through your nose and forced your best smile. he rolled his eyes. “not like that.”

“i’m not unhappy, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“could’ve fooled me. you look like you’d rather be anywhere else.” you kind of would, but you didn’t tell him that. “you haven’t even thanked me for bringing you here when you know i hate coming here.”

“thank you, john.”

“for?”

the image of you dumping his margarita right into his lap flashed through your mind, but you quickly shooed it away. “thank you for bringing me here even though you don’t like being here.”

he nodded, as if to say your thanks was satisfactory enough. “you’re welcome, y/n.”

you were beginning to wonder how much longer you could do this for.

•••••

“alexa, i could’ve come here on me own.”

“you could’ve, but i wanted to come with you. you can shop for your cat, and i can shower the animals in attention.”

alex sighed and pulled the door to the pet store open, allowing alexa to step through first before following her inside. it was the middle of the week and just shy of turning to 6pm, so there weren’t many other customers inside. he kept running through the list he’d made in his head, not wanting to forget anything, and headed for one of the aisles while alexa flagged down an employee to ask about petting the puppies.

he hadn’t intended to become a cat owner, but during an outing (with alexa, funnily enough), he’d come across a stray black kitten shivering to death in a cardboard box. the sight of its small, furry form teetering between life and death was too much to bear, and it’d taken hardly any convincing on alexa’s part before he was picking up the cardboard box and carrying it back to his car. they’d immediately gone to the vet and had the cat taken care of, and it turned out to be a male. alex named it herbert.

that was a couple of weeks ago. although herbert had the basics — food, a collar (for when he was actually big enough to fit in it), a bed (that he didn’t really use because he always slept with alex) — he didn’t have much in the way of entertainment. alex wasn’t sure which toys he’d like the most — which toys any cat would like the most, actually. he wasn’t used to taking care of animals.

he slowed to a stop in front of a shelf full of cat toys and bent down to grab a small plush mouse. he turned it over and over in his hand, trying to decide if herbert would like it. it was a mouse, and cats were obsessed with mice, weren’t they? if the wild misadventures of tom & jerry had taught him anything …

“mr. turner?”

he looked up at the sound of his name and locked eyes with one of the employees over the shelf. “ms. l/n,” he said, blinking a couple of times in surprise. “i didn’t realise you worked here.”

you smiled at him, perhaps a little shyly, and he instantly recognised it as the kind of smile you donned in class whenever you were invested in the topic at hand. for a brief second, he questioned why he even remembered what that smile of yours looked like, but he tried not to dwell on that for too long. “i’ve worked here for a little over a year now,” you told him, dragging him back out of his own head. “it’s a nice excuse to deal with animals all the time.”

you liked animals, then. he made a mental note of that, although he wasn’t sure why. “that’s entirely reasonable,” he replied, managing a small smile that mirrored your own. “i became a literature professor because … well, i love literature.”

you laughed at that, a small, soft laugh that bordered on a giggle. “i don’t imagine you’d become a literature professor because you love science.”

he chuckled. “no, certainly not. science was never really my thing, anyway.”

“what are you doing here, anyway?”

“ah, i needed to pick up some things for herbert.” when you stared at him in confusion, he realised his error. “my cat, i mean. i wanted to get some toys for him, but, er, i don’t really know what cats like.” he held up the little mouse toy in his hand for emphasis, and your confusion quickly morphed into understanding.

he watched as you walked around the shelves and made your way to the aisle he was on, coming to stand beside him in front of the row of cat toys. “do you know how old he is?”

“uh, not even a year, i don’t think. he’s a tiny little thing.”

you nodded slowly and seemed to think on it before reaching out to grab a toy that perfectly resembled a fishing rod. it was one of those sticks with the line of string at the end and something attached to the string, but the something in question was a little stuffed fish. clever marketing, really. “kittens tend to be more energetic, so he’ll probably get a kick out of something like this.”

you held it out to him, and he took it from you. “thank you, ms. l/n.”

“oh, you don’t have to call me that,” you said quickly. “you can just call me y/n.”

his brows raised a little, although he didn’t object. he knew your first name, of course — he knew all his students’ first names — but he always opted to refer to everyone by their last name, seeing it as the polite thing to do. calling a student by their first name felt … foreign, admittedly. if you wanted him to, though … “right,” he said, smiling faintly. “thank you, y/n.”

you returned his smile, and he hated the faint flutter he felt in his chest at the sight. “of course, mr. turner.”

silence settled between the two of you, although it wasn’t necessarily awkward. a question lingered on the tip of his tongue, but he wasn’t sure how to phrase it. he wasn’t sure if it was even his place to ask (it probably wasn’t). still, before he could catch himself, the words tumbled from his mouth. "are you ... doing any better?" he had half a mind to run out of the store and quit his job.

the way you were staring at him wasn't helping.

"oh, um ... yeah," you said, your voice quieter than it'd been before. "i mean, it healed." you held your wrist up, and his gaze dropped to the smooth skin beneath your wrist bone. sure enough, the purple blemish that had been there before was gone. a part of him was relieved, but another itched to know why you'd even had a bruise in the first place.

"that's good," he murmured, his gaze flickering back up to meet yours. "y/n ..." he paused, then sighed. it really wasn't his place to ask, but — "iff you're alright with me asking, where had that bruise really come from?"

he watched as your own gaze fell upon your wrist. you slowly turned it over, as if you were expecting to find some new mark you would need another half-assed excuse for. nothing was there, though. you eventually opened your mouth, a syllable of a word escaping your throat, and he was immediately bracing himself for the answer — one he knew he wouldn't like — but you never got to tell him. at the same time you began to speak, alexa came over, nudging her shoulder against his. "did you find anything?"

he jumped slightly at the sudden contact and looked over at her, blinking once or twice. "oh, er ... yeah. she helped me." he gestured to you, making alexa glance over at you. "she's one of my students," he added.

alexa smiled at you and held her hand out for you to shake. you did so and offered her a small smile. "pleasure to meet you. i'm ms. chung in the design department, but you can just call me alexa. i don't think i've seen you around campus before."

"i'm y/n," you told her. "i'm going into literature, so that's probably why we haven't crossed paths."

"alex didn't have to bully you into that, did he?"

you laughed and shook your head. "not at all. i'd already decided a while ago what i wanted to study. he's been a wonderful professor, though."

you thought he was wonderful?

it was stupid, and he felt like a teenager again, his head partway in the clouds and partway stuck to reality as he bought the cat toys and some extra food for herbert. stupid and reckless, that's what it was. you were his student, and as far as he knew, you were that nice to everyone. you considering him a wonderful professor didn't mean a damn thing, and it was insane of him to think it did — no, scratch that, to want it to mean something.

those feelings of his weren't entirely out of the blue; he'd just gotten good at ignoring them and maintaining a professional boundary between the two of you. even if it wasn't illegal — you were 21, and he 30 — it was morally reprehensible and went against everything he stood for. sometimes, though, he still found himself staring at you for just a second too long, and sometimes your enthusiasm in his class made his heart skip one too many beats. throughout the term, he had done his best to never cross the line he'd personally drawn, but when he'd seen the bruise on your wrist ... it was difficult to deny the feelings it stirred up within him. he didn't like the worry he felt seeing it, and he didn't like the cloud of concern that followed him for the rest of the day as your shitty excuse and your forced smile played on repeat in his head.

"earth to turner."

alexa waved her hand in front of his face as they walked down the sidewalk together, heading back to his car so he could deposit the bag of goods for herbert inside. he blinked in surprise and looked over at her, raising an eyebrow. "what?"

"you're thinking awful hard over there."

"i've just — got a lot on me mind, is all," he said, giving a dismissive wave of his hand.

her eyes narrowed, but she didn't press him for answers. she just shrugged and sighed, redirecting her gaze to the world in front of them. "whatever you say, al." He knew she could see right through him, although he was silently grateful she didn't say anything else; frankly, he wasn't sure he even had any answers for her.

what were you doing to him?

•••••

you weren’t fond of bars. you didn’t mind alcohol — although you usually kept your drinking restricted to special occasions — but having to deal with other drunk patrons wasn’t the greatest way to spend your time, you thought. having to deal with your drunk boyfriend wasn’t great, either.

you weren’t fond of bars, but when john wanted to go to one, you weren’t really in a position to say no.

although your boyfriend seemed to go all-out every time the two of you left your flat, you couldn’t be bothered. you pulled on a white skirt that went down to your knees and a grey jumper than had some american university you were unfamiliar with printed on it (you had gotten the jumper from a charity shop, if you were remembering correctly). despite it being spring, days were still cold in london, and the nights weren’t any better. plus, you preferred to show as little skin as possible, especially if you had to be around drunk men.

you stuffed your phone, wallet and keys into your bag and double-checked that you had everything before zipping the bag shut and slipping the strap over your shoulder. john finally re-emerged from the bathroom and ran a hand through his hair, raising an eyebrow at the sight of you. “that’s what you’re wearing?”

“i don’t see an issue with it,” you said. your voice was a bit curt, showing that you weren’t in the mood to deal with his persnickety bullshit, and he seemed to get the message. instead of responding verbally (starting an argument), he just nodded and grabbed his keys.

fifteen minutes later, after an uncomfortably silent car ride, you found yourself sat beside john in one of the booths at the back of the bar, nodding absentmindedly and giving false hums in an effort to make yourself seem like you were paying attention to whatever it was he was rambling about. you were only really picking up bits and pieces — his older brother was disappointed in him, he was convinced his parents didn’t love him even though you knew from firsthand experience that they very much did, all things you’d heard before. it wasn’t that you didn’t care; to a degree, you did sympathise with him. but it was only to a degree.

as he drunkenly babbled on in your ear, you glanced around the dimly lit bar, your eyes scanning dozens of faces you didn’t recognise. you could pick out a couple — students you’d seen around campus before — but the rest came together to form a sea of unfamiliarity in front of you. you sipped from your glass, wincing as the alcohol carved a burning trail down your throat. the bar you were in had live music on the weekends, and tonight, the performer was someone you hadn’t caught the name of. he had a shaved head, wore what appeared to be a leather vest with nothing underneath and a pair of black skinny jeans, and his eye makeup was leagues better than anything you could pull off. he seemed cool, and you liked the sound of his voice. you made a mental note to figure out who he was before you went home with john.

“i have to use the restroom,” you said suddenly, standing up from your seat and cutting john’s sentence short. you looked down at him. “i'll be right back.”

his brows furrowed, and he grabbed your wrist. “i'll go with you.”

“i’ll be fine, i promise. just wait here.” you pried his hand off (due to his inebriated state, he wasn’t gripping you very hard) and slipped out of the booth, heading straight for the bathroom. you kept your head down, doing your best to avoid eye contact with anyone.

the music was muffled and, admittedly, a little less headache-inducing in the bathroom. you stood in front of the row of sinks and sighed, rubbing at your face with your hands. you examined your reflection in the mirror, immediately noting the dark circles under your eyes and the almost gaunt appearance of your cheeks. had you lost weight recently? you hadn’t noticed. you’d been too busy with everything else …

“fuck you!” a shrill voice screamed, bounding into the bathroom as the heavy door swung shut behind the owner. you jumped at the sound and turned your head, watching as a girl stomped behind you, stopping in front of the sink beside you. she was huffing, her chest heaving, and for a second, you swore you saw steam pouring out of her ears.

it wasn’t really your place to get involved, but she looked like she was a breath away from blowing the building up. slowly, you asked, “are you alright?”

she slammed her bag down onto the countertop — that, too, made you jump — and began rummaging through it, pulling different things out. ah, she was fixing her makeup. “my stupid fucking boyfriend started chattin’ with some other girl and thought i wouldn’t fucking notice,” she said, opening up a pack of makeup wipes. “it’s not even the first time he’s done it, i’ve just been too nice and let him off.”

“did the girl know you —“

“if she did, i’m rippin’ her fucking face off,” she muttered.

fair. you turned the water in your sink on and let it warm up for a few seconds before leaning down to splash your face. “is he still your boyfriend, then?”

she scoffed. “absolutely not. i told him he can go find some other girl to be a wanker around since he’s so desperate to get away from me.”

as you rinsed your face off, you wondered if you should have been grateful that john wasn’t a cheater. as far as you knew, anyway. sure, everything else he did was … less than ideal, but at least he wasn’t going behind your back. right?

“men are shite,” the girl said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

you turned the water off and reached for the paper towel dispenser. “yeah. they are.”

you could only think of one man (besides your father) in your life that wasn’t utter shite.

you left the bathroom after drying yourself off and intended to head straight back to your booth, but the sight of a familiar head of hair gave you pause. it wasn’t like he was the only one with that haircut, and for all you knew, you were about to look creepy as hell walking up to some random bloke and asking if he was someone else. still, you couldn’t stop yourself from quietly approaching, hesitating before reaching up and tapping the figure’s shoulder. his head turned, his eyes seeking out yours, and for some reason, you felt comfort in being right in your assumption.

your literature professor, the only man in your life that wasn’t utter shite, got up from his stool and turned to face you fully. “y/n,” he said, raising his voice a little more than usual so you could hear him over the music, “i didn’t expect to see you here.”

“i’m here with my boyfriend,” you told him, and if you weren’t paying attention, you easily would’ve missed the subtle shift in his expression before he schooled it back into a state of neutrality. “i could say the same of you.”

“professors need a break, too, you know.”

he had a point.

you awkwardly shifted from one foot to the other, unsure of what to say now. you felt like you were seeing something you shouldn’t; like you were a child finding your teacher in the supermarket. you were both adults, sure, but the scene gave you the same feeling you’d had in the pet store. encountering him outside of lessons just felt odd.

he seemed to feel the same as you, struggling to find anything to say. eventually, he opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly interrupted by the sound of a voice behind you. you immediately knew who it was, and the way his gaze hardened confirmed it.

you turned and came face to face with john, who was nothing short of seething. “you said you were going to the restroom.”

“i did.”

“so then why the fuck are you here, chatting up some bloke instead of talking to me?”

“john —“

“answer me,” he demanded, reaching out to grab your wrist. his grip was much tighter this time, almost bruising, and you winced at the pain that shot through you.

“i think there’s been a misunderstanding,” mr. turner began. “i’m just her —“

“you’re not a part of this, you fucking wanker,” john spat, glaring at him before looking back down at you. “why are you talking to him?”

“he’s just my professor,” you said, forcing yourself to stay calm. “john, please.”

“just your professor?” he echoed, ignoring your plea. “why the hell’re you talking to your professor in a bar, hm? is there something you’re not telling me?”

“don’t do this.”

“gettin’ him off for a good grade? is that it?”

you felt sick to your stomach. “john, stop it, now.”

“i always knew you’d do this to me, y/n! can never fucking trust you with anyone! am i not good enough for you? everything i’ve done, and you’re shaggin’ your goddamn professor?”

“john, shut up!” you shouted, the last bit of your restraint slipping.

with your restraint went his — or what little he’d had left. eyes wide, he lifted his free hand and quickly swung it in your direction.

you squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the impact, but it never came. the musician’s guitar stuttered. the drums missed a few beats. you opened your eyes and were met with the sight of mr. turner gripping john’s wrist, the veins in his forearm protruding with how hard he was holding it. his brows were furrowed down in rage, and you could see the anger that swam in his eyes, threatening to drown him and you and everyone in that damned bar. “let go of her,” he said quietly, “and get the fuck out of here. now.”

you’d never heard him swear like that before.

john stared at him, then at you, then at him again. he yanked his wrist from mr. turner’s grasp and finally released your own, turning to leave. not, though, before saying to you, “don’t bother coming home.” and then he was gone.

the loud chatter within the bar’s walls had been reduced to mere murmurs by the scene that had just unfolded. you were shaken up — quite a bit. you were used to him exploding, hurting you, but not in public. never in public. he had gotten good at making sure his outbursts were kept behind closed doors.

“y/n.”

you jumped at the sound of mr. turner’s voice and looked up at him. your heart was thumping in your ears. you felt shaky. you needed to sit down. he could tell you were on the verge of a panic attack, and he put a hand on your back, murmuring something about finding you a seat as he led you to one of the back booths. it was a more secluded spot, away from the stares and whispers of the other patrons. you were grateful.

murder was illegal. murder was illegal. murder was illegal.

that was the only coherent thought alex was immediately capable of making. he let you slip into the seat first before slipping in beside you, making sure to keep a respectable distance between the two of you. you stared down at the table, and he stared down at you, thinking of a million things to say and not finding a single one of them appropriate given the circumstances. the more empathetic side of him wanted to dance around the issue, tiptoe around what had just happened, but he knew he’d never get any real answers if he tried to play nice. this couldn’t go on.

“y/n,” he said again, crossing his arms and setting them down on the table, “how long has this been going on?”

you were silent for a few moments, making him panic internally and wonder if he’d already fucked up in his line of questioning. eventually, though, your answer came to soothe his worrying brain. “at least a year, maybe more.”

“a year?” murder was illegal. “has he been hurting you this whole time?”

“he doesn’t usually hit me. that’s only when he gets really pissed about something.”

“when did this start?”

“when we moved in together. he had always been kind of … kind of rude before that, i guess, but once we saw each other every day, it was like he just snapped. i guess he realised he finally had power over me.”

of course. if the flat was in his name, then he could kick you out at any point he wanted. one wrong move on your end, and you would be out on the streets. he’d backed you into a corner; a corner you hadn’t left in over a year. alex’s heart felt heavy. “he’s always been kind of rude, you said. what … what do you mean by that?”

you sighed and sank a little further down in your seat. “he makes comments on my weight sometimes. he never calls me ugly or fat, but the implication that he’s unsatisfied with how i look is always there. he likes to poke fun at the books i like and the music i listen to and the films i watch. it’s like — like he wants me to be a carbon copy of him.”

“y/n, your weight’s fine,” alex said with a frown. “you look like you’ve lost weight, actually. i’m worried about you.”

you looked up at him, and the resignation in your eyes added extra weight to his heart. “i’m fine, mr. turner.” even though you clearly weren’t.

silence fell between the two of you, leaving alex to swim in the pool of his thoughts. realistically, the most he could do by the school's terms was offer you resources for abuse and maybe help you get your boyfriend reported to the authorities. the issue, though, was that as far as he knew, your boyfriend wasn't a student. you being one — one of his, for that matter — didn't immediately give him the right to get involved in your private life, even when you were clearly in danger. there was also the matter of whether or not you even wanted him to get involved — that one, he wasn't really sure on. he didn't want to betray your trust and interfere with your relationship if you asked him not to, but he also hated the thought of turning a blind eye to what was happening.

alex had never been one for violence. that wasn't to say he was a total pacifist, but he typically believed things could be talked out rather than resorting to fists (or worse). when he had seen your boyfriend grab you, though, and prepare to hurt you in public with such ease and no shame, he was pretty sure he was a breath away from knocking that bastard to the floor and giving him a taste of his own medicine.

“he didn’t mean it when he told me not to come home,” you finally said, dragging alex back out of his thoughts. “i just have to give him some time.”

time. of course. “if you’d like, i can drive you home.”

“i would appreciate that, mr. turner. thank you.” he offered you a small smile, and you did your best to mirror it. it didn’t quite reach your eyes, but he appreciated the effort.

you would have given a more genuine smile, but you were embarrassed and still shaken up, and really, all you wanted was to curl up in bed and cry for a while. you knew that, realistically, it wasn't embarrassing to be in an abusive relationship, and you knew that mr. turner was one of the last people on the planet that would ever be judgmental over it. you certainly wouldn't judge anyone else for being in one. when it came to yourself, though, it was just ... you couldn't help but wonder if this was all your fault.

you weren't sure how long you and mr. turner sat in that booth, but it had at least been long enough that you were sure john had either cooled down or passed out in your flat. the pair of you got up and headed for the door, but not before he stopped to say something to the musician that'd been playing, who was now sitting at a table and nursing a beer. "sorry i can't stay for the rest o' your set," he told him, "i've got somethin' i need to take care of."

the musician glanced at you, and understanding flickered in his gaze. "course, al. don't even worry about it. i'll see you 'round, yeah?"

"yeah." mr. turner flashed him a smile before turning back to you and leading you outside.

as he took you to his car, you asked, "who was that?"

"miles Kane. he's a friend of mine. we go way back."

"oh." miles kane — you did your best to remember his name for later. "i like his music."

"me, too." he opened the passenger seat of his car for you, and you quietly thanked him and slipped inside. he went around the front of the car and got into the driver's seat, turning the car on and fastening his seatbelt. you did the same.

after you gave him your address, the two of you fell into yet another bout of silence, although this one wasn't as uncomfortable as it'd been in the bar. mr. turner fiddled with the radio, eventually settling for a station playing rock songs from the 80s. you recognised a few of them, although you were more familiar with the general tune than the lyrics. you could occasionally see him tapping out the beat against the steering wheel from the corner of your eye.

unlike the drive to the bar with john, which had felt like an absolute drag, the drive to your flat with mr. turner was much more bearable and hardly felt like ten minutes, let alone fifteen. once his car slowed to a stop in front of your block of flats, you undid your seatbelt, the soft click seeming to echo in his car. "um, thank you," you said quietly, popping the door open. "i really appreciate it. sorry if i ruined your night or anything."

"no, no, it's fine," he said quickly, shaking his head. "you didn't ruin anything, alright?"

"okay." you nodded.

you stepped out of the car, bag in hand, and were about to close the door when he suddenly said, "y/n."

"hm?"

"can i put my number in your phone?"

ashamedly, your brain immediately jumped to what you deemed the most logical conclusion: he was proving john right and hitting on you. "huh?"

"so i can check on you, i mean." he smiled apologetically at you when he noticed the brief flash of panic that darted over your features. "i'm not, er ... i'm not like that, i promise."

"oh. yeah." now you felt foolish. you unzipped your bag and fished your phone out, handing it to him. he was quick to create a new contact for himself and handed your phone back to you. his contact name was 'alex turner', and you didn't know why it surprised you. maybe you were just so used to calling him 'mr. turner'.

"if anything ever happens, please don't be afraid to contact me, y/n," he said softly. "i may just be your professor, but i'm also a human being. you can talk to me."

you nodded. "thank you, mr. turner."

"of course. you should go inside now, it's getting cold out."

after exchanging a final quick goodbye, you headed into your block of flats, taking a silent trip up in the lift to the floor you lived on. you retrieved your keys from your bag and unlocked the front door to your flat, immediately noticing that the lights were still off. you slipped in, shutting and locking the door behind you, and crept through the living room, being careful to not wake a sleeping John on the sofa. as you'd suspected — he must've fallen asleep after he got back. had he been waiting for you?

you threw a blanket over him before continuing to your bedroom, shutting the door as quietly as you could behind you. you let out a small sigh and leaned against the wood for a few moments, shutting your eyes. this was not how you'd anticipated your night going. you eventually reopened your eyes and turned the light on, depositing your bag into the armchair in the corner. out of curiosity, you stepped up to the window, peeking through the blinds to see if mr. turner's car was still there. he was already gone, though.

after getting changed into your pyjamas for the night, you collapsed onto your bed and held your phone over your face, peering at the screen in the newfound darkness. you kept reading mr. turner's name over and over, the image of his quiet rage permanently seared into your brain. you were so used to him being calm and collected at all times — quiet, too. granted, he hadn't exactly raised his voice, but somehow, that was scarier than him shouting could ever be.

and it was all because of you.

tags: @elexnorislingtxn / @edandmollydeservebetter / @sagegreensimmr / @billyseye / @supernaturalandpain / @not-a-big-slay

[ohitslen]

Sharing a meal

I wrote something for this below the cut if you’re interested :)

They never eat anything too tasty, surviving with packeted rations and canned food in their journey. Sometimes they would stop at a little restaurant and eat a nice meal; it really tasted like something gourmet after days of going with grain bars and dry jerky.

There were fleeting moments in between conversations in which one of them would remember some dish, from back in the day when things were easier and they didn’t worry about too many things. They never went deeper into the topic, just mentioning how they missed a good meal.

Staying at an inn or any motel was an expensive thing to pay for. However sometimes they had some extra money from an odd job Vash did or from Wolfwood’s undertaker services, and they would always rent a room as a treat for themselves.

It was a surprise when they entered the room and saw a small kitchen. The space was a little too cramped but it had everything they needed, it was like a deluxe room when they though about all the places they had been at. None of them had a kitchen at all, maybe they had a tiny stove or a mini fridge, perhaps a table sometimes but never the whole set together.

They both looked at each other to confirm they really were seeing the thing, smiling excitedly.

They could make a meal for themselves.

Vash knew how to cook, he had done some work on kitchens throughout his life. A few times he helped Rem when he was a child, he knows how to defend himself. Yet he didn’t know any recipes by heart, not any that would be inside their budget at least. He could get creative and probably whip up a thing or two if he was given enough time.

“I know what to do” Wolfwood said with a smile that irradiated a melancholic warmth interrupting his thoughts . A smile Vash had only seen when he talked about the things he loved.

Vash didn’t suggest anything in the end and just followed what the other man told him to do.

He went to buy all the things Wolfwood asked him for. Vegetables and some thoma meat. There seemed to be some spices in the room so he only bought garlic and onion as per Wolfwood’s request.

When Vash got back, he found Nick at the table arranging the ingredients the kitchen already had. He was already showered, hair messy and with droplets of water hanging on the tips. Getting closer, he could smell the soap, the cheap shampoo and the lingering scent of nicotine that never seemed to go away. He was changed into a black, long sleeved shirt and a pair of loose dark blue pants.

His overall appearance made Vash think how the edges of the man were less sharp, he seemed more relaxed and at ease, even if it wasn’t entirely the case. He just looked, soft.

“Hey welcome back, did you bring what I asked you for or will I have to use your meat for this?” Wolfwood greeted him without looking up from his task, the ingredients being the most interesting thing in the world it seemed.

Something warm pooled at the pit of Vash’s stomach, he didn’t know why that was and didn’t bother to think about it either, just enjoying the feeling.

Smiling, he placed the bags on the table in front of Wolfwood, taking out its contents. “I’m sure I brought everything yeah, I hope my life can be spared”.

The priest snorted at him and grabbed a potato that was rolling off the table. “Aight then, make yourself useful and start washing these and then chop ‘em to reasonable bitable sizes”. Losing no time, he took the meat and was cutting it while giving out the instructions.

While Vash was washing and chopping, the other was already preparing the meat putting it in a pot with boiling water. Once Vash was finished with all he was asked to do, Wolfwood ushered him to take a shower while the food was done, wanting to have more space in the narrow place. Vash did as told in that as well.

The shower felt great, all of the gross stickiness from the sweat and other things were finally washed off from his body. He felt light and a thousand times more content.

As he opened the door the smell hit him in the face, a delicious scent that surely tasted even better. Wolfwood was stirring the pot, poking some of the potatoes to make sure they were on the right term, and they seemed to be as he turned off the stove.

Vash got closer, mouth already watering just from the thought of how it’d taste “That smells so good! What did you make?” He asked with a big grin plastered all over his face.

Wolfwood pointed at the table with his hand, signaling him to sit down a little dismissively while he looked for the bowls on his own. It seemed like he was the kind that with less people on the kitchen when he was there, the better. “Just a broth, nothing too wow it’s something easy, and on budget”. Vash hummed with wonder and served two cups of water to busy himself with something.

Wolfwood poured the two servings of the broth, it was still hot and the bowl must surely be scalding. Yet Wolfwood’s calloused hands never flinched, placing their food on the table without much trouble along with a pair of long spoons.

“Be careful or you will murder your tongue” he warned and Vash chuckled.

“Thanks for the heads up chef, ‘preciate it” the other just scoffed at the title and sat down across him .

They both mixed the broth while blowing at it in hopes for it to cool down a little. However seeing how they were both starving and didn’t care too much about getting burnt or not, they just started to dig in.

Wolfwood was eating eagerly, having spoonful after spoonful of his food. He was beyond delighted. It had been a long time since he had the chance to prepare the broth he used to have back at the Orphanage.

“It’s…delicious” he heard Vash say in a low and calm tone. When he looked up to see the man, he was shocked to find him with reddish eyes that were glistening with tears. It didn’t seem like when was doing a show or anything of the sorts, he just seemed…at peace.

It wasn’t anything extravagant, quite possibly one of the most simple dishes Vash has ever eaten. It was made with the things that they could afford with the little money they could spare, the ingredients were definitely not of the best quality, the vegetables could have used a little more time on the pot. And it was delicious.

Vash felt incredibly warm inside, similar to how he felt when Wolfwood greeted him when he got back, just a thousand times stronger. The first sip he had of it tasted like the best thing ever cooked in his whole life, something he would have every day of the year for the rest of eternity. He didn’t know why that was at first, but after having a second spoon of it he could tell what it was.

It tasted like home.

The flavor of it, it was homely, the savor of melancholy. It tasted like their conversations about missing the past. The tang of the times they would have a peaceful night in the desert grilling worm meat around a campfire. It reminded him when he got sick and an old lady had given him a bowl of soup. It tasted like the first time Rem had given them a try of what meat and vegetables tasted like. It tasted like all the things he missed, and the things Nicholas most likely missed too.

The familiarity of it made him feel fuzzy and full on the inside, and he couldn’t stop eating. He was slow while doing it, wanting to savor every bit of what he could have while it lasted. It was rich, it was simple and it was perfect.

“…You want some more?” At some point, Nicholas had already finished his own bowl and brought the pot over to serve himself again. He looked at Vash with something soft in his eyes the other could not name, his voice was gentle and gravely, sweet and easy on his ears just adding more to the warmth inside of him.

“Yes…yes please” Vash answered, voice cracking a little. Nicholas served him, the sound of the liquid being poured soothing his soul.

Vash ate again, and Wolfwood was looking at him. The priest was taking small sips of water from his cup, always holding it against his mouth even if he wasn’t drinking anything. Vash didn’t really notice when he had started tearing up, thick streams of salty water running through his cheeks, a pool of them welling up at his chin and falling down the wooden table making a puddle of happy tears.

Vash enjoyed the heartfelt broth. He was happy, that bit of simplicity was enough to make him forget of everything else and just focus on that moment.

It was so mundane. Vash smiled with overflowing tears in his eyes while Wolfwood just watched with a fond smile of his own behind his empty cup of water.

At that moment, they were not in a random room at a random place. They were in a place where they had brought their home to, sharing a meal with each other.

[sehodreams]

sex money feelings die - second visit

first visit ↬ second visit ↬ third visit

WC: 1.5k

TW and Tags (permanent for the story): rich client!Anton x stripper!reader, smut, fluff (?), a touch of angst for the moment, inexperienced reader, fingering, kissing, lots of silly conversations.

Summary: Working at a night club was difficult in many aspects, your sleep schedule was messed up for life, your feet were more used to high heels than sneakers and you had to lie about where you went to work those nights. Still, even with all those cons, you didn't hate your job, you had more than enough to pay your bills, feed your brother and save money for his college. However, what happens when your boss makes you do the one thing you asked to never do.

Mondays became the new Fridays.

Anton had completely stopped booking the VIP room for him and his friends and disappeared until Monday came, the girls were sad at first, missing his expensive champagne and pretty face, but since his friends didn’t stop coming and they also brought their own drinks to share they quickly got over it.

Shotaro was elated to have now two big incomes in the week instead of just one, and every time he saw you around, he patted your back as if he was congratulating you for making the right choice.

You don’t know how right was to accept his money, the first time you told yourself you deserved it as compensation for all the stress he caused you, but after the fourth time you had started to feel bad receiving the wad of cash when all you two did was talk and sometimes drink, and you didn’t even drink with him, you just made sure his glass was full while you talked about recipes you had tried days before, how clients had treated you during the week, or maybe some gossip you heard around.

And he always kept the conversation flowing so smoothly that, before you noticed, you had started to talk about things you wanted too, from the simplest dish you had tried in your infancy to the coat you had seen when you were window shopping at the mall.

‘’I can buy it for you’’ he answered when you described the long black coat you saw that weekend.

You denied, ‘’It’s okay Anton, it’s not that I can’t, but there are more important things I could buy with that money.’’

‘’Like what?’’ he seemed sincerely curious about what else you had to do with money instead of buying yourself something truly wanted.

Saying you could buy your brother more practice books was impossible, you hadn’t talk about that kind of personal aspects of your life. Also, you asked yourself, would he be able to understand you? You saw the gold earrings he had on each of his ear globes, drops shiny enough to know they weren’t fake like the ones you bought yourself in the little fairs you visited when you had time, and you didn’t dare to even guess the price, because you were sure they costed enough to pay at least four months of your rent.

‘’Like food or, I don’t know, pay my bills, I don’t feel good wasting too much money on myself.’’

‘’Why would it be a waste to buy yourself something you want? Of course, those things are important, but gifting yourself things you want too.’’

He wouldn’t understand you at all. You couldn’t tell him how a two thousand coat was not something you could gift yourself, you had a mouth to feed, a student to maintain, and when you were young you never appreciated how much your mother did for you, but now that you were on her shoes, you understood why she collapsed after so many years taking care of you two without thinking about her own health. You couldn’t even afford fruit when you were young, you would be happy if you had a fried egg in your lunch, and now you decided that eating two fruits a day was a better decision than buying some piece of cloth that your brother wouldn’t find useful at all.

‘’I shouldn’t, I have to think about the future, I don’t know what could happen tomorrow.’’ You saw his glass half empty and tried to fill it again to avoid his eyes on you.

Minutes passed and the uncomfortable silence that you had forgotten about after so many times together came again, making you shrug in your spot, wishing you hadn’t talked about that. He seemed to deeply think about something while slowly nodding and sipping his glass full again, and before you were about to change the subject to something one of the girls had said about him, he interrupted you.

‘’What I give to you is not enough? Should I give you more?’’

‘’Anton in first place I don’t know why you give me so much money, you could have any girl in this place, you don’t have to put up with me.’’

His hand found yours and, caressing the back of it to calm you, he sighed.

After so many nights talking until Sungchan called for you, he had learned many things about you, how you enjoyed sweets a lot, how you always had a praise for the people you worked with and how you never recognized how special you were.

‘’Can I ask you a favor?’’ You, tired of hearing that phrase, like always, stayed silent until the other person said what wanted from you. ‘’Could you treat yourself a little better? I don’t think you realize what you do, but you talk as if you didn’t deserve nice things, and I’m not here to lecture you or anything, but it’s painful to hear how you say things like waste, or put up, and I thought that, after all the times we were together, you would notice that, for me, you would never be someone I have to put up with, I’m here because I want to, and because I think your company is as valuable as what I pay for, to not say more.’’

The tenderness with what he said it made you blush and, grateful for the room to be so dark and your foundation so good, you let him hold your hand.

He chuckled when your smokey eyes met his, seeing you so shy with just a grasp of his hand after knowing how bold you could be was a charm he didn’t expect from you, and when he saw how your ears betrayed you, all red and obvious even with the dim light of the place, he found himself as lost as when you took off your robe and showed him your pretty set of lingerie.

The occasion never repeated, you two strictly talked and got to know each other, so he never received another of your shows again. Kind of sad, but he didn’t mind, seeing your soft face and hearing your voice was enough to keep him satisfied the whole night.

However, he thought about you a lot more the next days, sometimes he thought about calling your boss and asking for more of your time on random days, but he didn’t want to scare you away when you were getting so close. For him, you were just like one of those stray cats he had seen around his elite school when he was younger. His friends and he would sneak some food a couple of times, and they would instantly run away from them and hide if they weren’t careful enough, and even if with every encounter they would warm up and occasionally accept to be petted, just the action of one of the immature boys, like putting too much pressure with their hands or being too loud, would be enough to make them run away, and would have to start all over again.

Your eyes met his and, holding all his desire to give you a kiss over your nude lips, he focused his attention on going back to the conversation.

‘’So, what do you say, will you do me that favor?’’

You hummed with a smile, you were tired of favors, but this was the first time you didn’t mind that someone asked you for one. ‘’I’ll think about it.’’

Testing the waters, he pulled the hand he was holding and gave it a quick but delicate peck. ‘’Knowing that you will think about me later it’s enough for me.’’

Not believing his cheesy line you scoffed, ‘’I’ll think about what you said, not about you.’’

‘’Well, just so you know, I’m always thinking about you.’’

Your laugh brought him joy again, whipped with the sound of it, he always left feeling victorious if he made you laugh during the night.

He kissed your wrist this time, and you didn’t pull your hand away, so he felt he had advanced a big step with you after so many nights.

‘’Why don’t you come Fridays anymore? The girls miss you’’ you changed subjects, like you always did when Anton, or made you uncomfortable, or made you too comfortable.

‘’And you? Do you miss me?’’ he replied kissing your index finger.

‘’Sometimes, your champagne is better than your friend’s’’ you had no idea how it tasted, but it always smelled good, so you decided it wasn’t exactly a lie.

He was exhilarating, hearing how you wanted to see him more was something he had waited for so long. ‘’I’ll make sure to bring two bottles then.’’

You let him hold your hand until you were called, and that night Shotaro gave you a check. ‘’Too many bills’’ he said.

Anton had given you a raise.

first visit ↬ second visit ↬ third visit

[passionwillow]

Let Me Help You

Hi loves! Another Reader x Luca request, platonic! Once I get through some requests and get caught up, my inbox will be back open. ☺️

Summary: Reader had been saved by Luca when she was a kid. Now, she's ack in LA and struggling.

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, abuse

- There wasn’t much you remembered from your childhood. A dark house, screaming parents, hiding in your bedroom. That was really it.

- The one thing you will never forget was the young SWAT officer that picked you up and carried you from your house when your parents were arrested.

- The rest of your life was spent with your grandma in Washington, and it was a happy childhood from there on out.

- When you got older she told you what happened that night. How your parents were making meth out of the house and selling it, and they finally got caught after two years.

- Your parents never reached out to you, and you never tried to talk to them. You got decent grades in school, dated a few people, and decided you wanted to try and make something more out of your life.

- Until you met Travis and it all went to hell. He was abusive, mean, and tried to rope you into his drug operation (heroin instead of meth).

- You left with bruises on your face and the clothes on your back, set for LA for a (somewhat) new start.

- Being back where it all began was a little poetic. You had enough money saved for a small place of your own, and found a decent job at a restaurant.

- That was around the time you found him.

- You didn’t know his name was Luca, you just remembered his face. The kind eyes, the gentle voice, and the comfort he gave you when your life turned on its head.

- He came into the restaurant you worked at to order take out, and before you could talk yourself out if it you approached him. What was more shocking was, even with you grown up, he remembered you. Your name and everything.

- You instantly hit it off with him and he was religious about keeping in touch with you. How you were, if you needed anything, meeting up for dinners. He was a guiding light for you in this loud city that wasn’t eager to welcome you back.

- Life was outrageously expensive, especially in this city. You lasted a few months before your rent became late, then nonexistent. And then the eviction notice came.

- You couldn’t express how embarrassed you were. You were working nonstop, picking up extra shifts, and it wasn’t enough. Not even for the 1 bedroom apartment you had.

- Luca was an expert at reading body language and could tell someone was wrong when you showed up for your typical Friday night dinners. When you told him about your struggles, he didn’t bat an eye at offering his home to you.

- He persisted until you gave in, and was thrilled with the idea of company. He helped you pick your things up that night in his truck, and set you up in the spare bedroom.

- Being roommates with him was interesting, to say the least. He was focused on cleaning more than usual since he had a guest, was up early to workout or surf, and loved to teach you video games or show you movies.

- What you didn’t expect was him finding you a job.

- SWAT was looking for a secretary, and Luca gave them your name. You had little experience, but somehow ended up interviewing and receiving the job.

- You were thrilled of course, a higher paying job meant saving more money for a place of your own. But Luca seemed even more excited. He loved the idea of you being at the same place as him, introducing you to the team.

- You settled into your new life with ease, and it wasn’t long before you had the money to set out on your own again.

- But you didn’t. Luca was a fantastic friend, someone you could look to for help, and you loved being around him. He loved having you.