#i say “study but like… i ain’t in school

[fuckitupfelix]

ANON. LET ME COOK WITH THIS ANON.

third time's the charm !?

miya atsumu x male reader

word count: 1.8k

atsumu's self proclaimed "flirting" doesn't get him very far when the guy he's crushing on is absolutely clueless.

FEM ALIGNED DNI

atsumu miya is a fairly popular student. he’s quite well known among his classmates, and generally well liked. as a result, he’s grown a bit cocky. he considered himself a chick magnet— osamu jokes that he’s actually just a manwhore, to atsumu’s dismay— but the fact remains that he was attractive and he knew it, even if he never really acted on it. sure, he liked the attention, but when it came down to it, and osamu or suna ever prodded on why he didn’t get with any of the countless people leaving love letters in his locker, he would simply say they were ‘distractions’. his main focus was volleyball! he’d mess around here and there, but he would never take any of his little flings seriously. that’s what he’s been telling himself. he knows he could get with anyone, and he prides himself on that. it gives him a sense of power; a sense of control— until a certain (name) (surname) joined his class.

the teen had transferred into inarizaki in the middle of second year, and while he knew of the ‘wonder twins’ (he so aptly nicknamed them in his head) through friends and bits he’d seen online, he didn’t care much for them. as far as he was concerned, they were just teenagers. athletes with admirable skill, sure, but teenagers nonetheless. just the same as he was.

atsumu’s been pulling his hair out over the past few weeks because of (name)— his previous logic going straight out the window with the new transfer student. any and all attempts that the setter made to drop hints were futile. the guy was, to put it simply, far too dense.

ATTEMPT ONE: HOMEROOM.

upon (name’s) initial arrival, atsumu’s hooked immediately. it’s not like his introduction was anything crazy; the teacher called him in, he introduced himself, and sat down in the free seat next to suna and behind atsumu. but there’s something so appealing about the teen that draws atsumu in. the setter turns around in his seat, his usual lazy grin sprawled across his face.

“hey there. name’s miya atsumu,” he hums, before jutting a thumb towards the seat to (name’s) left. “that there’s suna rintaro.”

the expected reaction, if you know who he is— and he’s offended at the notion someone at his school potentially wouldn’t— would be absolute joy and surprise. instead, the new student responds with a, “oh. you’re the volleyball guys, right? nice to meet you two.”

suna has to bite back a snort at atsumu’s expression— his jaw dropped, his eye twitching. that’s it? “ya know who i am, yeah?” he asks, regaining his composure immediately. “ain’t i impressive?” he drawls.

“i guess? yeah. you’ve got impressive skill.” (name) responds, seemingly missing the way atsumu bristles at the lack of praise. he decides to flirt a little, wanting to throw this guy off his game.

“since ya missed some of the curriculum already, i can help ya study. get ya caught up.” atsumu says. he catches the way (name’s) face lights up and feels the pride bubbling in his chest. “really? that’d be such a big help! where should we meet up?”

“i was thinkin’ we could study at my place,” atsumu hums, voice a bit lower.

“. . . wouldn’t it be more productive if we went to a library or cafe? i also don’t wanna disturb your parents at all.” (name) replies. suna barks out a laugh, and atsumu shoves his shoulder. “shut it, suna!” he sputters.

“i’m definitely tellin’ ‘samu this later,” the teen snickers, leaning back in his chair. “‘n turn around, ‘tsumu, the lesson’s startin’.”

with a grumble, atsumu turns back to face the front, his arms crossed. there’s no way he just got blown off like that . .

ATTEMPT TWO: VENDING MACHINE.

atsumu refused to give up, even after the relentless nagging from suna to ‘quit being a pussy’ lasted for weeks on end. the two of them sat together with osamu and ginjima on their lunch, a figure slumped over the table, groaning dramatically; the person being atsumu, of course.

“could ya whine a lil quieter? i’ve gotta finish my history assignment and yer bein’ distractin’,” suna says, prodding at atsumu’s crunchy hair— which only prompted another, longer, louder groan.

“i don’t get it! how oblivious is this guy gonna be?!” atsumu whines, his cheek pressed against the cool table. his teammates were going to comment on how none of his attempts were straightforward in the slightest, but decided to let him wallow a bit longer. with a sigh, atsumu stands from his seat, shoving his hands into his pockets. he just needs to clear his head.

“d’you guys want anything from the vending machine?” he asks. they tell him their respective requests, and he exits the cafeteria to find a free vending machine. as he’s wandering about, mind filled with thoughts and plans to get (name) to give in to his ‘flirting’, lo and behold, he’s right there, crouched in front of the vending machine. a pretty face contorted into a hardened expression, eyebrows furrowed as he scans the contents, before letting out a sigh and standing. he turns in the direction of atsumu, and he jumps a little.

“oh! miya-san, hey.” he hums. atsumu scoffs lightly at that, walking closer and leaning an arm against the edge of the vending machine. at this angle, he can see (name’s) face perfectly, the light from the window on the other wall shining beautifully against his skin. it makes him feel giddy.

“i told ya, you can jus’ call me atsumu. drop the honorifics already, (name),” he drawls, his signature smirk on his face. “ya grabbin’ a drink?” (name) nods. he frowns slightly, turning back to look at the vending machine. “i can’t decide what to get, though. any suggestions?”

it’s almost like a lightbulb sparks above atsumu’s head. he has a perfect idea. leaning over (name), he comes closer to the glass dividing them and the drinks, purposefully drawing his face inches away from (name).

“hm,” he narrows his eyes, pretending to think about it, before pointing to a peach tea can, letting that same arm loosely wrap above the other teen’s shoulder. “this peach tea’s pretty good. it’s sweet, just like you,” he says, adding that last part a little quieter.

this has to be it. (name) has to hear that and take the hint, atsumu thinks to himself. so when (name) turns, his face lighting up with joy, and he responds with, “that sounds perfect, man! thank you!” he gawks at the teen's obliviousness as he punches in ‘D-3’ on the keypad, sliding the coins in. the can falls down with a thud, and he takes it, walking off as he cracks it open and takes a sip.

atsumu really cannot catch a break.

ATTEMPT THREE: NATIONALS.

atsumu's been going at it in the gym for the entirety of his lunch break, practicing his serves, sending ball after ball over the net.

“i’m done!” atsumu sputters, his shoes squeaking as he jumps up, arms stretched out as he slams another volleyball across the court. it lands out, and he grits his teeth. “he's impossible! he keeps actin' all buddy-buddy with me!”

osamu snorts at his brother's pouting. “so you'd rather (name) hate yer guts?” “that's not what i meant!” he huffs childishly, kicking at the floor. “fuck it. i’m tellin’ ‘im! ‘samu,” he whirls around to face his twin, jostling him by the shoulders.

“where would (name) be right now?” “why would i know that? it's lunch, check the classrooms.” osamu says dryly, shoving atsumu off of himself.

atsumu just nods, ignoring the action. like his life depends on it, he sprints out of the gym and towards the main building. through the side doors, past the lockers, up the stairs, to the very end of the hall, until he reaches their classroom.

“(name)!” he all but yells, sliding the door open with too much force. students whisper and murmur around the room, girls huddled up in the corners, eyes wide and hands cupped over their cheeks as they practically marvel at the sight of atsumu. (name), however, looks a bit concerned. placing his lunchbox onto his desk, his fork laid gently beside it, he stands and walks over to the door, not noticing the stares from all over the classroom. as he steps out, he shuts the door behind him.

“atsumu? are you alright?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed. “you look like you just ran a marathon—”

“we're goin’ to nationals tomorrow,” atsumu pants. (name) knew that— he's heard him and the others on the team talk about it in the halls, or when they have lunch at atsumu's desk.

“right, yeah. goodluck with that. you guys are gonna do amazing, obviously,” (name) chuckles. god, the sound makes atsumu's heart ache. he needs to get it out already, he's wasted far too much time dawdling.

“right, yeah. words don't mean much, though,” atsumu leans an arm against the wall, right next to (name). “a goodluck kiss would work wonders, though.” he says smoothly. this was his final attempt for (name).

the teen stiffens up at that. “what?” he laughs, wondering if he even heard atsumu correctly. “ya heard me. it’d be pretty motivatin’ if the pretty boy i’ve been likin’ gave me a lil goodluck kiss. just a lil peck.”

what?

“. . . you like me?” (name) asks. “since when?” atsumu huffs at that. “since forever! yer just too dense, i’ve been tryna hint at it for months now!” at that, the realization dawns on him. oh. “i thought you were just being nice!” (name) sputters, clearly trying to defend himself. atsumu lets out a choked noise.

“am i that bad at flirting?” he asks weakly. “no! i don't think so? i didn't realize you liked me at all! you should have said something!”

yes. he should have. he knows that, god knows osamu does as well. he just leans in a little closer. “so, how about that goodluck kiss, hm?” he asks after a beat of silence.

with a light scoff, (name) plants his hands on atsumu's shoulders, gripping at the fabric of his uniform shirt. it’s crumpled and smells slightly like sweat, but he decides to overlook that detail. he leans in, capturing atsumu's lips with his own. the kiss was brief, but atsumu's hands had already flown to cup the back of (name's) neck, gently tugging him forward. (name) lets out a startled noise, but doesn't move back until a few seconds later.

“so. you'll be watchin’ me at nationals, yeah?” atsumu drawls, his fingers carding through (name's) hair, idly twisting a strand.

“of course i will.”

this was so fun to write omg!!! also my reqs are open if you wanna drop any ideas for any fics !!

divider by @/plutism !!

[kirbsto]

Leyendecker study of the Silly’s

[sleep-0-deprived]

What would it be like yandere bully vs yandere jock fighting over the nerd reader?

Yandere jock, bully fighting over nerd male reader head cannons~. ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა

For the sake of this post I’ll call Yandere bully(Damian) and Yandere jock(Jake) <33

When Damian first started bullying you it was out of the obsession he had built on you over the summer. Jake first noticed you when he was in study hall and was assigned you as his tutor, the two of you became really close during the tutoring sessions so much that he’d invite you to his place just wanting to be around you as much as he could. Dumping his cheerleader girlfriend asking you to come to his games even trying to get you to wear his jacket insisting it was just him “wanting you to show team spirit for him”.

Damian hating how close you got with Jake turning into pure hatred for the jock, it starts with Damian being a little meaner to you trying to get your attention nearly tormenting you daily in hopes you’d just focus on him. Jake always pushing Damian away or making him go away whenever he’s around. The two ending up going at it figuring daily, the cameras Jake had installed in your bedroom whenever he was over suddenly getting hacked by Damian.

Jake who asks you out getting you to some how say he’s taking a video of him having you in the backseat of his truck with your legs held spread wide getting stretched out with your lips making an “O” shape whimpering out “J-ake~!” Over and over when he hits your bundle of nerves penetrating you. Jake showing the video to Damian whispering “think he likes me more Mr bully?” In a mocking tone just to rile him up into a fury nearly having a tantrum only making his obsession over you grow.

Damian who pulls you out of lunch just to fuck you bent over in the back of the library, his hand over your mouth huffing degrading words in your ear “if I knew you were such’a damn slut I woulda given you a good fucking so long ago” his hands harshly punching your hips “did that dumb jock fuck you like this hm? Did he thrusts like this pretty boy?” Jerking your hair wanting to be the only man to ruin your hole—to touch and grip your skin, not that jock.

Jake stalking you after school making sure Damian doesn’t get any free chances with you. Jake giving you rides having your head between his thighs sucking him off behind school in the back of his truck just taking pictures without you knowing bragging and mocking Damian saying “clearly he likes my cock more? Don’t ya think Damian?” He’d caption the photo he sent Damian just to further fight wanting it known you chose Jake.

You finally snapping at the two of them arguing you weren’t in the middle threatening to never speak to either of them, they didn’t seem to like that, them ending teamed up on you for the greater good of keeping you. Damian In front of you in the janitors closet face in your chest knocking your books aside with his cock deep inside your ass having Jake behind you his cock rubbing against Damian’s with his hands on your hips holding you up in place murmuring “he’s being so good for us ain’t he Damian” only earning grunts and a “yeah he is” from Damian. Both them deciding then and there you were theirs, no choice needed you’d be passed and shared by only them.

[feenoire]

Heartfelt Veils II. A Doe Loves Its Wolf

stepdad!joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ minors dni

word count: 6.2k

warnings: age difference (18/50), sexual harassment (cat call), fluff, angst, sexual tension, sexual acts.

summary: spending your 18th birthday with your stepdad ended up being an unforgettable day, one that will forever linger in your mind.

a/n: Joel quoting Romeo’s line in spanish, that’s the note. i hope you enjoy this chapter <3

series masterlist

The drizzle cascades outside, tapping the window of your bedroom. The pumpkin spice candle fills your room with its warm, comforting scent. You’re sitting on a chair, pen in hand, as you pour your thoughts into your diary at the study desk.

“Dear diary, I almost cry at the sweetness of October. Woken early by Joel, who made breakfast for me: avocado toast and raspberry juice. Days seep by like the stain of a raspberry on my pearl blouse. A week has gone by since I arrived in this small town, this new haven—Joel’s home. I could make a list of all the warmest things: my new chamber, forest saunter, delicacies, cold weather, the sleekness of his wood carvings, and Joel.

I’m afraid to admit it, but I think I like Joel, he’s like a sin worth hunting for. Something’s wrong with me because I know I’m not supposed to feel this way. My heart beats steadfastly for him, his brown eyes warm like the morning sun. For the first time, I feel like someone truly pays attention to me and genuinely cares what I have to say. I feel seen. Unlike the ghost I have been for the last seventeen years. He is flowers in my stomach. I always think of him before I fall asleep. Nightmares fade.

But I tried to convince myself that he was just being nice like most stepdads would do, because they can be kind at first but become total assholes later, that it was all just a pretense, they just want your mother, not you. That’s what I heard from my friends. But I truly hope Joel isn’t like that. That this feeling I have right now is just a phase, that he’s just a phase…”

The knock on the door startles you as you’re lost in your thoughts, letting them flow onto the book in front of you. In a panic, you quickly shut your diary and hide it in the drawer. Knowing you’d be dead if someone read it.

“Sweetheart, are you ready yet?” his deep, husky voice speaks.

“Yeah. I’ll be just a few minutes.”

“Alright. I’m gonna wait outside, okay?” says he from behind the door.

“Okay.”

After his footsteps fade, you put on your jacket over your sweater and grab your school bag. Not wanting to make him wait too long, you quickly grab your walkman before running downstairs. There, you find Joel leaning against his black 1978 Ford truck, looking like a man straight out of a magazine.

Your breath hitches and your cheeks warm at the sight of him as you stand on the front porch. He wears a denim shirt under a brown jacket that hugs his frame, showing just how big his arms are. He is divine, like the Seleucid prince. It makes you flutter.

Like the gentleman he is, he opens the car door for you with a smile as you stride toward him. You can’t help but smile and blush at his lovely gesture.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say softly.

“Ain’t no worries, little girl.”

Little Girl. You like the way he calls you that, it sends a warm sensation to your core. You don’t know why. With the husky voice of his, you secretly wish he could whisper it in your ear.

Joel gets inside the truck and starts to drive. Meanwhile, your mother leaves for work early today. Joel told her that she could stop working if she wanted to and let him provide for her, but she said no, as work keeps her busy and she likes doing it.

It feels comfortable and calming to the mind as you look at the scenery through the car’s window. Observing the little town with its shops, parks, and sidewalks covered in fallen leaves. There’s an old man riding a bicycle, with ten dogs following him, stepping with their little legs. The sight brings a smile to your face. In the distance, a big mountain blanketed in fog. The weather is getting colder, as it nears November.

“What are you listening to?” Joel says, breaking the silence.

You don’t turn the volume all the way up on your walkman, so you can still hear Joel talking through the headphones.

“Um, just an old song from my mixtape.”

Joel smiles. “Why don’t you put your little mixtape on the stereo so I can listen to it too?”

Part of you is embarrassed at the thought of Joel listening to your playlist, or maybe you’re scared that he will judge you for it, without realizing how much you care about what or how Joel thinks of you. But a small part of you is delighted that you could listen to your favorite songs with him.

“Yeah, sure.”

You take off your headphones and put the tape in the player. The soft melody of Mazzy Star’s “Blue Light” fills the car.

Joel smiles as he listens. “Yeah, I’ve heard this one.”

“You have?”

“I have, it’s glorious.”

You smile, glancing at him. “It is, isn’t it?”

“You look like this song would if it were a person.”

His words make your cheeks flush. It’s the best thing anyone has ever said to you, especially when it comes from Joel. You try to shift the conversation back to him. “What kind of music are you into?”

“Fleetwood Mac, Bob Dylan, David Bowie—”

“I love David Bowie!” you say enthusiastically.

Joel laughs softly at your enthralled reaction. He watches you with a look of admiration in his eyes. “Me too, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” you whisper as you bow your head. Scolding yourself internally for losing your composure in front of him.

“Don’t be.”

The song changes to “Storms” by Fleetwood Mac as you look out of the window again, gazing at the white swans swimming on the lake, beautiful as a painting. Time seems to speed up, and soon you see the big wooden sign on the side of the road that reads, ‘Welcome to Lakewood.’

The car passes by towering trees as you approach the small town. You’re so caught up in the scenery before your eyes that you don’t realize Joel has been looking at you. The town is beautiful, much like Silvervale, but a bit bigger.

Finally, you arrive at Lakewood High School. The school is big and built with maroon-colored bricks. Forest trees stand tall behind the building. Joel pulls over in front of the entrance. Some students head inside. The parking lot is full of cars and motorcycles, with teenagers hanging around despite the forty-five degrees weather.

You feel nervous, and your hand is slightly shaking. But you don’t realize it until Joel reaches for your trembling hand and holds it, enveloping your small hand with his large, warm, and calloused one. The contrast between his rough skin and your softness is noticeable.

“Are you okay?” he asks calmly.

You look at your trembling hand covered by Joel’s. Trying to control your anxiety and take a deep breath.

The idea of starting all over again, introducing yourself to strangers scared you more than you realize. You’re scared of being perceived and what if you’re not able to find a friend? You’ve always been a wallflower at your old school, with only one or two friends.

But you push the thoughts away—you’re not going to break down in front of Joel. Instead, you try to focus on the warmth of his hand. It calms you down and alleviates your pounding heart and trembling body.

You nod. “Yeah, I-I’m okay.”

His eyes are full of concern. “You don’t have to do this today if you don’t want to. I can take you back here tomorrow.”

“No, no, I’m okay, I promise.”

You don’t want to burden Joel, who already takes time before work to drive you here. You’re not going to let a little anxiety ruin your day, especially his.

“Are you sure?”

You give him a smile as a sign that you’re okay. “Yeah, I’m sure. Thank you for driving me.”

“Not at all.”

You open the car door and as you try to get out, Joel still clasps your hand, stopping you.

“Joel?”

His gaze is unwavering and intense as he looks at you. “Call me if you need anything okay? Don’t hesitate,” he says with his thumb gently caressing your hand.

Your breath hitches from the intense eye contact. The tension between you is palpable, making your heart race. Unsure if he can feel it or if it’s just you. The pulsing in your core returns and it starts to ache—you’ve never felt like this with anyone before. You rub your thighs together to ease the ache. Joel’s gaze shifts from your eyes to your thighs, and his eyes darken.

“Little girl,” he whispers.

You try to hold back the whimper at the sensation and the way he calls you. “I-I have to go,” you murmur.

You withdraw your hand from him and get out of the car with a pounding heart. You welcome the cool refreshing air and take a deep breath. No one has ever affected you the way Joel has, and you can’t comprehend why. Trying to calm down and gather your thoughts, you head inside the building without looking back and decide to find the front office to collect your schedule and the school map.

Time passes, and the school bell rings signaling the end of the school day. Finally.

You didn’t really pay much attention to your surroundings today. You spent your lunch break alone in the wildflower meadow in the forest behind the school, sipping the cherry cola you bought from the vending machine and smoking a few cigarettes. With your walkman on and your favorite book as your companion.

You got to know a few people from your classes, but not many. Some of the teachers were nice and helpful. The thing you hated the most was the boys hanging out in the hallway, whistling loudly at you as you walked to class. Shitheads.

The last class of the day was English, taught by the handsome teacher Mr. Wayne—according to the students. He’s around thirty, with light tan skin, brown hair, brown eyes, and a slightly graying beard. He’s the youngest male teacher at school, which is why most of the girls are after him. It seems like everybody pays attention to what he teaches in class, or maybe they just admire his looks. He assigned everyone in class a copy of Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare and asked them to write an essay about it.

After you leave the school building, you don’t call Joel to pick you up as he asked you to. Instead, you walk through the forest, but not too far from the road. Keeping your phone’s map open to guide you home.

The earthy and musky scent of the fallen leaves is prominent. The faint breeze gently blows through your hair and rustles the leaves scattered around you. The sky is getting dim, and you have no idea why. You check your watch—it’s only 3:20 PM. You’ve been walking for twenty minutes, with just thirty more to go until you arrive. So, you tighten the jacket around you and walk faster.

After what happened this morning, you don’t dare to face Joel, so it’s best to just avoid him. The way he held your hand, his eyes darkening as he stared at you, was all too much. What if he feels the same way you do and is struggling with it just like you? You swear it was there—the palpable force of tension and electricity between the two of you. Maybe you’re just crazy, imagining things that weren’t there, that it was all in your head. What is wrong with you? He’s your stepdad—why do you feel this way? You’re certain that if someone could read your mind, they’d put you in a mental institution.

Now that you’re alone, you let the tears fall from your eyes. Your heart aches as you wonder if what you feel for him is genuine. Joel is a very kind man and a great partner for your mother, and you’re just a dumb seventeen-year-old girl who holds a secret longing for him. You secretly pray to God that these feelings will fade away. Reminding yourself that you need to control how you feel and distance yourself from Joel from now on before something bad happens.

As you continue walking you hear a faint crunching sound on the fallen leaves behind you. Heart pounding, afraid someone might be following you. It turns out it’s a black kitten trailing behind you as you look back. It meows at you as you approach, and your heart softens.

“Hey, are you alone?” you say softly.

Of course, it only answers you with a meow. You look around but you don’t see another cat. The kitten is alone. You wonder where its mother is. As you kneel on the ground and inspect it, its fur is dirty and tangled, and one of its legs is crooked. It’s a girl. You can’t leave her here alone—what if she dies?

“Why don’t you come home with me?” you whisper to the kitten.

You carefully lift her from the ground and carry her with you. She purrs and snuggles into your jacket as you hold her small form gently in your hands. You smile at the sight.

“You’re okay now, let’s go home.”

The kitten occupies your mind now; all you can think about is getting her home, giving her a warm bath, and tending to her crooked leg. The thoughts about Joel leave your mind.

It’s 4:20 PM by the time you arrive home, soaking wet. Late because you had to take shelter from the rain under the bus stop pavilion, shielding the kitten in your jacket’s inner pocket. You cursed yourself for wearing a black mini skirt today, and now your legs are so cold they almost feel numb.

The driveway is empty, signaling that no one is home. You take the spare key from under the doormat and quickly get inside. You bathe the kitten and take a hot shower yourself, then tend to her tiny, crooked leg before falling asleep in your bed with her.

Unsure how long you’ve been asleep—whether it’s been minutes or hours. You feel a big hand gently caressing your head, which wakes you up from your slumber. You open your eyes slowly and adjust your vision; there you see Joel bent over looking at you with a face full of concern, and his hand on your hair.

“Joel?” you murmur.

“Little girl, where have you been?”

You rub your eyes and slowly sit up, gathering your consciousness. “What?”

He sits on the edge of the bed. “I called and texted you, but you didn’t answer. I told you to call me to pick you up. Then, I went to your school, and you weren’t there, I was sca—” he bows his head and takes a deep breath.

It’s the first time you’ve ever seen Joel looks so scared. His eyebrows are drawn together, his jaw tense, and fear is evident in his eyes.

“Joel, I—”

“I’ve been searching for you everywhere, and your mom too—she was terrified. Where the hell have you been?”

You made everyone worry about you, and you feel so guilty about it. You should have at least let them know. Overwhelmed and too caught up in what happened this morning, you don’t dare reach out to him.

“I-I’m sorry, Joel. I was taking a walk home through the woods to… to clear my mind,” you say, your voice slightly shaking. “I’m so sorry for making you worry; I didn’t mean to.”

Joel’s face softens at your explanation. “But sweetheart, that’s like an hour’s walk.”

“I know,” you whisper.

“It’s still too dangerous, baby. You can’t just walk around the woods. What if you get attacked by animals or worse?”

“I didn’t think about it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just don’t ever do that again.”

Joel is a remarkably handsome man, even when he’s worried, and you can’t help but admire his beauty. In return, he meets your gaze, his brown eyes make you feel safe and warm. His hand tries to reach your face, but you turn your head away and shift the conversation. Joel pulls back his hand.

“I found a kitten in the woods, her leg’s injured. So, I brought her home,” you say, pointing to the kitten sleeping on your pillow.

A smile starts to form on his lips as he looks at the little creature. “I didn’t even realize she was there.”

“Is it okay? I can’t leave her alone.”

“It’s okay, little girl,” he says warmly.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say with a smile. “Where’s mom?”

“Downstairs. She’s upset, I’m gonna talk to her.”

“No, it’s alright. Let me talk to her,” you say. “After all, it’s my fault.”

He nods. “Okay.”

Unconsciously, you remove the blanket from your lap and climb out of bed, stepping over Joel’s thigh. The cold air and the rough fabric of his jeans against your bare legs remind you that you’re only wearing a t-shirt and panties. Joel clears his throat, his cheeks turning red. Embarrassed, you quickly apologize and stride to your closet, shutting the door behind you.

God damn it. How could I forget?

As you go downstairs, you find your mother sitting in the dining room. Joel was right—she’s upset, it’s evident on her face. You stand across the table as your mother’s gaze shifts from the window to you. Your heart feels heavy with guilt as you look at her.

“Mom, I’m so—”

“Where have you been?” she says, her voice elevating.

“I’m so sorry, Mom. I was just taking a walk home, that’s all. I didn’t go anywhere else.”

“Well, you can’t just fucking disappear like that! We were looking for you everywhere. If Joel hadn’t told me, I probably wouldn’t have known.”

“I know, Mom. I’m sorry,” you whisper, trying to hold back your tears.

“No, you didn’t. You wouldn’t have fucking done it if you had known.”

Her words make your tears fall down your cheeks, and you sob quietly. Your mother is always like that—very strict about everything: where you go, what you wear, what time you come home. It’s as if she has been scared for you your whole life, and you never understand why. That’s why you are always cooped up at home.

“You go straight home from school from now on. Joel will pick you up, and no more taking a walk bullshit!” she exclaims. “You’re not going to let everything I’ve done to move here and protect you go to waste—”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but instead, she lowers her head and shakes it.

“Protect me from what?” you ask softly, but your question is met with silence. “Mom—”

“Go to your room!” she yells, making you flinch. “No dinner tonight.”

Without a word, you obey her and go upstairs to your room. In the hallway, you catch a glimpse of Joel sitting on his bed with the door open, his face full of concern. You close your door and cry into your pillow.

In the middle of the night, a knock on your door wakes you up. When you open it, you find a tray of food on the floor: a plate of salmon noodles and a glass of milk. It must be Joel; you know your mother wouldn’t do this. You eat the food with your kitten and then go back to sleep.

October 31

On Halloween day, you lie in the wildflower meadow behind the school like you always do every day during lunch break. Too overwhelmed by the crowd inside, especially the cafeteria, you’ve never eaten there, not even once. You don’t care, though. You love spending your time alone here, with no one to bother you.

The school hosting a Halloween-themed event, allowing students to wear costumes. With a pair of wings, a flowing white dress, and a crucifix necklace, you completed your Juliet Capulet costume. It honestly makes you feel angelic.

It’s your birthday today, and you turn eighteen. You wonder if there’s someone who has a birthday on Halloween as well. If so, they probably live on the other side of the world.

It seems like your mother and Joel forgot your birthday since they didn’t say anything to you. Which makes you feel a bit sad today. To celebrate your birthday, you bought a slice of chocolate cake from the vending machine. You don’t even know what to wish for as you want to blow out the candle, so you just blow it out and eat the cake.

A little while later, you notice a doe standing near the shrubs around the trees, not too far from you. She catches your eye, she’s beautiful just like the one in your painting. So, you get up from your spot and slowly approach her, stopping a few feet away so you don’t scare the doe. You wish you could caress her soft fur and give her gentle kisses. Her eyes are captivating as she looks at you. Maybe it’s your deepest desire that comes true right after you blow out your candle. This very moment makes you feel like you’re in some kind of fairy tale.

The doe slowly steps towards you, but suddenly runs away when she hears a branch crack behind you. As you look back, you catch a glimpse of a man, but he is quickly hiding behind a tree. Heart pounding as you come to the realization that it’s similar to what happened in your dreams. Without thinking further, you run back towards the school. Suddenly, it feels so far, maybe because you have gone too deep into the woods than you realized. All you can think is to run and run; your breath is heavy and your stomach hurts. You hear footsteps behind you, but you do not dare to look back.

Keep running, keep running!

Finally, you reach the school building. Knowing that there are many people around, you dare to look back, and there’s no one is following you. You stand at the edge of the school, confused and feeling like you’re losing your mind. But you’re sure that what you saw was real, not just some trick your mind wanted to see. Suddenly, a hand touches your shoulder, making you flinch and turn around.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

It takes you a few seconds to calm your breath and pounding heart as you look at the person in front of you. His face is full of concern as he looks at you.

“Yeah, I’m okay, Mr. Wayne,” you say.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Are you sure?”

“I just… I thought I saw something, but it’s nothing.”

He nods and speaks calmly, “Okay. Why don’t you just join the party inside with the other students.”

“Yes, Mr. Wayne.”

Joel picks you up after school like he always does. By the time you get home, the house smells like baked goods and cherries.

“Take a walk with me?” says Joel from behind you. His deep voice echoes through the living room.

You turn around and look at him. “Alright. But where are we going?”

He smiles. “You’ll see.”

Joel holds your small hand with his large one as he leads you into the forest behind the house, his other hand holding a picnic basket covered with a white napkin. When you ask him what it contains, he doesn’t answer.

You can’t help but secretly admire Joel’s veiny hand, side profile, and salt-and-pepper curls. He looks so good it makes your heart swell.

“Watch where you’re going, little girl,” says Joel, with a smirk on his face. He catches you eyeing him, like a moth drawn to a flame.

A soft blush tints your cheeks from being caught. “Why can’t you just tell me where we’re going?”

“Patience, baby.”

Walking in the woods again reminds you of what happened earlier. So, you stay cautious throughout the entire walk, hoping no one is following you this time.

A little while later, you arrive at the spot Joel wanted to show you. Hidden behind the tall bushes is a serene lake, where swans swim gracefully. The lake is surrounded by trees and bushes, making it feel like a secret garden.

By the side of the lake is a bone-colored picnic blanket stretched out on the grass, with a few unlit scented candles placed on top of it.

“Joel?” you say, shifting your gaze to him who’s already looking at you with admiration.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

Overwhelmed with happiness, you hug him. “Thank you, Joel. I thought everyone had forgotten.”

“Of course, I didn’t,” he says, his lips brushing your hair.

Pulling back, you gaze up at him. “But mom did. She didn’t say a word to me today. When I woke up, she was already gone.”

Joel caresses your hair with his hand. “Your mom’s busy with work as usual, but I got your present from her.”

That makes you feel a bit better, at least your mother hasn’t entirely forgotten your day. She’s never been there, and you’re always home alone on your birthdays—just buying takeout and watching TV, nothing special. The last time your birthday was celebrated was when you were six. If you’re being honest, you don’t really like having your birthday celebrated. You hate getting older and seeing it as a reminder that death is getting nearer.

But seeing Joel surprise you with all of this makes you think that maybe you deserve it for once. You’re forever grateful that he came into your life and his kindness, for treating you like his own family and making you feel cherished.

The two of you sit on the blanket. Joel takes out the items from the basket while you admire the view. There are countless lavender flowers growing around the lake, and fireflies fly around, glimmering in the foggy air.

Joel takes out the most beautiful cake ever—a heart-shaped cake with pink icing and red cherries on top. He places a tiny candle in the middle.

You blush and smile so widely that your cheeks almost hurt. “Joel, it’s so beautiful. Did you make this?”

He grins. “Yeah, how do you know?”

“The house smelled like cake when we arrived.”

“You caught me.”

“Seriously, Joel, I really love this. Thank you.”

“You deserve this, little girl.”

Have no idea when this will happen again, you savor this beautiful moment and every small thing. You’re not going to let this day be forgotten.

Joel takes a picture of you with his beat-up phone as you blow out the candle. But the birthday cake isn’t the only thing he brings; there’s also grapefruit juice, brownies, chocolates, blueberries, and much more. The two of you eat together, adoring the view and the swans.

“Wish I could stay here forever.”

“You like it here?” he asks.

“Of course I do. I mean, just look at this place—it’s beautiful here,” you say with a smile. “You’re lucky to live here.”

He smiles. “Well, you live here too now, sweetheart. It’s your home.”

“Thank you, Joel, for letting us live with you and for everything.”

“I’m glad to have you here, little girl. It feels more like home now with people around. I’ve been alone for a long time; I came home to a cold house, and it’s warm now with you here.”

The idea of Joel coming to a cold and empty home tugs at your heart. You can’t imagine him being so lonely all the time with no one to care for him. He deserves love and comfort. It makes you a bit glad that your mother has come into his life to fill the emptiness and give him what he needs, even though you secretly wish you could be the one to give it to him.

“I’m gonna keep the fire warm for you.”

Joel’s face softens as he looks at you. “I know you will, sweetheart.”

Your heart warms as you gaze into those dazzling brown eyes and see the sincerity on his face. “I haven’t thanked you enough for everything you’ve done for me—the room, this wonderful birthday, taking me to school, making me breakfast every morning—”

“Sweetheart—”

“For letting Ponyo live with us—”

With a soft expression, he giggles at the mention of your kitten, and you giggle too.

“And so much more,” you whisper.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me for any of it. I’m doing it all for you, and I love every second of it,” says he. “It feels good to have someone to care for.”

You beam.

“So, how was school? Did you make any friends?”

At the mention of friends, your smile slowly fades. “Not really. I’ve been spending time alone. But it’s okay. I mean, I’m not really a people person anyway.”

He gives you a warm smile. “That’s okay, little girl. Sometimes it just takes time. But promise me, if something happens or if you need someone to talk to, you’ll come straight to me, okay? I’m always here.”

“I will. Thank you, Joel.”

You’ve never felt so heard before; it’s like a burden has been lifted from your shoulders. The two of you sit in silence for a while, savoring the peaceful moment.

“They’re beautiful, the swans,” you say.

“They look just like you,” says he, with a heartfelt tone.

You blush and smile, and frankly don’t know how to respond to Joel’s sweet words. Every time he talks to you, it’s as if poetry flows naturally from his mouth.

“Have I told you that you look like a damn angel today, sweetheart?”

“Thank you, Joel,” you whisper and look at him, feeling his breath on your cheeks from how close you two are sitting. “That’s because I’m dressed as Juliet.”

“Belleza demasiado valiosa para ser adquirida, demasiado exquisita para la tierra,” says he.

Cheeks warm and heart racing at his words even though you don’t what it means or what he’s saying. Suddenly, it feels hard to breathe from the strength of the invisible string pulling the two of you together.

You keep your gaze on his eyes as you ask softly, “What does it mean?”

He gently bumps his forehead against yours, making your heart skip a beat. “It means you’re beautiful, little girl.”

It must mean more than that.

You try hard to keep yourself from grabbing his curls and slamming your lips to his, letting him take your breath away. He’s too tantalizing, like a forbidden fruit. But you quickly remind yourself that he is your mother’s boyfriend, not yours.

Joel slowly caresses your soft cheek with his calloused hand and leans forward until your noses touch. But you turn your face away and lower your head. Refusing to let yourself forget the reality.

Did Joel just try to kiss you? The thought races through your mind as you try to make sense of it, sending a rush of heat to your cheeks.

“Can… can I open the presents?” you murmur.

Joel clears his throat. “Yeah, sure, sweetheart.”

Joel takes the wrapped presents out of the basket, and you glance at him, catching something in his expression—is it sadness? You’re not sure. But you try your best to brighten the moment again.

Your mother gifted you a cozy, beautifully knit sweater and a new pair of shoes. Meanwhile, Joel surprised you with an “Among My Swan” vinyl and a lovely wood carving of your kitten, Ponyo, which makes you feel as jolly as a child.

“Oh my god, Joel, this is amazing. Thank you!”

Without further thought, you throw yourself at Joel and envelop him in a hug. In return, Joel laughs softly, circling his arms around you and pulling you into his lap, enveloping your much smaller body.

“You’re welcome, little girl.”

The masculine scent of cedarwood and leather is strong as you bury your face in his neck. It’s comforting and arousing at the same time. You wish you could stay in Joel’s embrace forever, knowing that everything will be okay.

As you try to pull back from his embrace, Joel tightens his arms around you, holding you closer.

“Joel?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

He loosens his arms a little so he can glance at your face. From this close, you can see the texture of his skin—a little wrinkled around the eyes but soft at the same time. His eyes are rich, chocolate brown, but the pupils take over as they dilate when you lock eyes with him. His lips look soft with a natural pinkish hue, and his breath smells like coffee and grapefruit juice.

Joel Miller is beautiful.

His gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips as you start to talk. “Joel, I—”

He interrupts you with a bruising kiss on your lips before you can finish your sentence. His large hand lands on the back of your neck, pulling you closer, while his other arm tightens around your waist.

Oh my. You close your eyes and let him kiss you, feeling his beard rub against your cheeks and chin. Kissing Joel feels like you can finally breathe like he’s giving you his breath to make you feel alive.

Truthfully, you don’t really know what to do—this is the first time you kiss someone. Joel Miller is the one who takes it.

Your hands fist the back of his shirt and tangle in his curls as you moan into his mouth, giving his tongue an opening. Joel groans into your mouth at the sound of your sweet noises. He takes it as an invitation, so he passionately explores your mouth with his tongue, stroking yours and getting lost in the dance.

“Tastes so sweet,” he murmurs between kisses.

His lips are a bit dry but soft, tasting like the blueberries he just ate—sweet and intoxicating. The kiss grows firmer, more desperate—something you’ve never felt before. He sucks on your bottom lip and slips his tongue inside again, leaving a trail of wetness.

You feel something hard pressing against your core, but you don’t know what it is. The warm sensation in your core worsens, pulsing to the point that it starts to hurt. You can’t hold back a whimper at the sensation and start to grind on it slowly to ease the ache, and he begins to groan.

“Joel,” you whisper breathlessly.

“Little girl,” he murmurs, panting.

He tightens his grip on your waist to stop your grinding. Slowly, you open your eyes and see the pain on his face. It grounds you to your senses, making you realize that what you’re doing right now is completely wrong. This is exactly what you’ve been trying to avoid.

“This is wrong,” you whisper, starting to cry.

You try to pull back from his embrace, reaching for his arm to let you go. His face shows hurt and the realization of what he’s just done. He releases you from his lap, and you sit on the blanket, concealing your face with your palms as you begin to sob.

“I’m so sorry, Joel,” you murmur, your voice muffled.

“No, baby, It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”

You feel his hand carefully touch your shoulder, and he begins to hold your trembling form in his embrace. You can’t look at him, feeling too guilty about what you’ve just done. Joel is your stepdad; this is deeply wrong. You ruined everything and betrayed your mother.

“Oh God, what have I done?” you whisper under your breath.

“I am so sorry, baby. This is not your fault, okay? Please listen to me,” Joel says, his voice filled with pain, as if he’s on the verge of crying.

You keep apologizing to him, even as he tells you to stop. Yet, he still embraces you gently, as if you’re something delicate and fragile.

After a few moments, you’re able to control your sobs and stop crying. You let him hold your hand as he walks you back home. Once he’s sure you’re okay, he returns to the lake to clean up and give you some time alone.

Lying on your bed, eyes dry from tears, you replay everything that just happened. You start to feel numb, unable to cry anymore, and your head aches. You try to focus on the good things that happened today, but the image of kissing Joel and the guilt cloud your mind, making it impossible to forget.

The sky grows darker outside the window, and the sound of children laughing and trick-or-treating from the street reaches your room. But you don’t hear any noise from downstairs or any sign of Joel coming back.

Where’s Joel? Is he okay?

Feeling lonely and cold, you feel guilty for wishing Joel could be here to hug you and keep you warm. Ponyo’s presence snuggling on your chest makes you feel a bit better; maybe you’re not as lonely after all.

Eventually, you fall asleep with your wings still on.

taglist @morganlolitta

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ knockout x renji abarai

✧ summary there’s no better way for renji to celebrate a big win than to spend the night with y/n.

✧ content warnings reader described as a black woman who uses she/pronouns. feisty!reader, chubby!reader x undergroundfighter!renji. modern au — no bleach verse. told in first POV — renji’s. mentions of stitches and bruises. usage of profanity, praise kink, cowgirl position, nipple play, facefucking — renji will finish in reader’s, squirting. terms of endearment — baby, sweetheart, angel, etc. reader and renji are in their late twenties.

✧ author’s note hello, hello. i am here with a fic that’s not jjk for once in my life, lmfao. this idea has been in my drafts since january 2023, and it was just sitting there collecting dusts on my old tumblr. but i said i was going to do more bleach characters, so here we go. first time writing renji, so if this ain’t how you see him, oops. still enjoy. also didn't really focus on the underground!fighter portion as much. but maybe i will if there's a next time. support me by liking, commenting, and reblogging this post. i would greatly appreciate it. AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND MINORS— DO NOT INTERACT.

I know she told me not to come by after the fight, but I needed to. 

 I won.

 I fucking won, and there’s no other way for me to celebrate winning ten thousand dollars than to be with Y/N.

 Well, that’s if she’s still not mad at me.

 Before I left for my match, we got into an argument. A huge one. She doesn’t like that I fight for a living, let alone illegal underground fighting. I mean—I get it. Seeing someone you care about constantly getting his ass beat isn’t a sight worth seeing. 

 But fighting is all I know. 

 I had a shitty childhood. Didn’t know who the hell my parents were since they gave me up at birth for adoption. Jump around in foster care homes until the mothers got sick of me and kicked me out in the streets. Survival was basically forced on me.

 Fighting is what kept me alive. For food. Clothes. A place to lay my head. Whether I lost or won, I know the reason why I’m alive today is because I’m a fighter. 

 It wasn’t until I was eighteen when I found out about the world of underground fighting. Ten years deep and I know nothing else. 

 Y/N knows this about me. She understands I didn’t have it easy and never judged me. But that doesn’t mean she agrees with my lifestyle. 

 She came to a few fights in the beginning. Eventually, she got tired of seeing me stitched up almost every weekend. 

 Shit, me too. 

 However, after tonight, I feel good about my future wins. I busted my ass in training, so now I don’t have to hear shit about anymore losses. 

 Even if right now I’m stitched up and have a black eye. I feel good.

 Great.

 Better if Y/N opens the door after keeping me waiting out in the cold for the past ten minutes. 

 I know she’s awake. She has a habit of staying up late, studying for med school. And plus, I haven’t messaged or called her yet. Despite her not showing up to my fights, she still wants an update afterwards that I made it out alive.

 “Y/N, let me in,” I say, knocking loudly on her apartment door. “You know I don’t care about making a scene.”

 After a few more obnoxious knocks, the door finally swings open and I am met with deep russet skin, tight curls, and chocolate-colored eyes that pierce an annoyed look in my direction.

 “What do you want?” She bites out. “I’m busy.”

 I smirk and hold the bag of money in the air. “I won.”

 “Congrats.” Her tone is flat and she tries to slam the door in my face, but I placed my foot to stop it from closing. “Seriously?”

 “Yes, seriously. Are you really still mad at me?” I teasingly ask. 

 “You won. I said congrats. What more do you want?”

 I shrugged. “I’m locked out of my apartment.”

 She arches a brow at me, already recognizing my bullshit ass excuse of being locked out of my apartment. 

 Y/N knows me. She knows I would do anything to be in her presence, so going back and forth in forty degree weather is pointless. 

 Her pretty brown hues travels across my face and body, examining the stitches and bruises that probably has her wondering, who the fuck treated him? 

 Me. But that’s besides the point.

 A deep sign escapes her mouth when she realizes I’m not going anywhere until she lets me in, so she opens her door wider and turns her back to me to walk further inside her apartment. 

 “Sit,” she orders, which I happily do so while chuckling to myself. 

 While Y/N goes to the bathroom (assuming she’s getting a med kit to fix my shitty patch job), I take advantage of staring at her round ass that’s barely covered in those tiny boy shorts. Every step she takes it jiggles, creating an ocean of waves I’m eager to swim in.

 I get comfortable while I wait, taking off my skully, sweater, and any other form of heavy clothing that would cause me to sweat in her heated apartment. 

 “I’m going to start charging you if you keep fucking coming to my apartment like this, Renji,” Y/N snapped, walking with the kit in her hand as expected. 

 “Outside of paying for your tuition, I can think of other ways to repay you.”

 She rolls her eyes at my suggestive comment. “Get over yourself, Abarai.”

 I let out a snort before she stands in front of me and tilt up my chin to start making work on my face. 

 She’s cute when she’s mad. Huffing and puffing while whispering slick comments under breath. But how she’s handling my face by moving it around with force rushes blood straight to my groin.

 I’m getting hard.

 Hard as shit, and it’s not helping that I’m in close proximity with her. 

 That jasmine lavender scent that circulates through my senses. Looking up at her full lips that’s coated with gloss. Then, lowering my gaze to her tits that’s big, naturally saggy, and pretty. My mouth is watering at the sight of her nipples hardening.

 And I don’t know if it’s because she feels that I’m checking her out or the coldness outside is affecting her. 

 Either way, I’ll act on it.

 Taking it upon myself, I grab the back of her thighs to pull her on my lap. As if she’s used to my antics, it doesn’t catch her off guard and she continues to clean up my wounds. 

 “You’re all bloody up with a black eye and somehow you still have the energy to be a pervert,” she retorts.

 I move one of hands to her ass, massaging comforting circles. “For you? Yeah.”

 The quiet between us was comfortable until she opted to speak again. “So… who’d you fight?”

 “Some huge motherfucker. I thought I was going to die.”

 She leans back to grab more alcohol and dabs it above my brow. “Maybe that’s what needed to have you stop fucking fighting.”

 I throw my head back to laugh, but she grabs my chin to bring my face forward. “Like you want me dead.” My hands creep beneath her cheeks to pull her closer to me and apply more pressure to my cock. “That’s what you want?”

 “That came out my mouth, Abarai?”

 “Why are you still mad at me?” 

 She scoffs. “Why am I mad that you’re practically coming to me everyday with a busted face and broken ribs?” That’s one thing I love about Y/N—her feisty personality. It turns me on so fucking much because I know when I fuck her, it’ll be a different story. 

 Continuing, she says, “I think I would be a little more satisfied if you did this professionally as opposed to underground. Underground doesn’t come with insurance, Ren.”

 “Aw, you care about me that much?” My question was supposed to be posed as a joke, but the look on her pretty face says otherwise. 

 “Fucking asshole. I don’t know why I still deal with your ass.”

 “Probably because you love me.”

 “Probably not.”

  Gripping her hips, I pull her with me and lean back into the headrest of the couch. We’re inches away from our mouths cooling and I take advantage of this proximity by basking in her sweet smelling breath and beauty. 

 Simply because Y/N exists, my cocks hardens for her. Holding her in my arms. Feeling her pussy against my erection and breasts suffocating pressed on my chest. Girlfriend or not, she’s mine.  

 And she knows it. 

 I can see how she looks at me, even when mad, that she cares and loves me. Y/N is a tough girl. I can only imagine what she’s been through. Still, she manages to soften up just for me. 

 We never made it official since she doesn’t approve of the underground shit, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop asking. 

 “So when are you going to say yes to being my girlfriend?” I whisper.

 She tries breaking from my embrace, but I tighten my grip. “Renji…”

 “You feel my dick pressed against you, right? It only makes it harder when you say my name like that, Y/N.”

 “Be real with me… will you keep doing this shit forever?” Her eyes waver as she awaits my answer and I can’t help the guilt from pinging my chest. 

 “If it lessens my chance of being with you, no.”

 She searches my face for hesitance or deceit, however, she finds nothing because I meant what I said. Y/N is the only person that looks at me like I’m a human, and I wouldn’t let my obsession with fighting get in the way of our future together. 

 How she tucks her coil behind her ear and nips down on her lower lip shows me the bit of vulnerability she reserves for me.

 So—I take advantage of it. 

 In less than three seconds my lips were on hers. I take my time relishing those sweet, plump and plush, strawberry flavored lips.

 I can feel the skepticism from Y/N while kissing her, maybe because she’s trying to put on this show that she’s still mad at me. But soon, her rigid body melts into mine and returns the kiss. 

 Our heavy breaths mingle, increasing in speed the more aggressive we lock lips. She begins rolling her hips onto my cock and I let out a grunt, feeling the moisture of her pussy liquefying on me. 

 The slaps I leave on her ass are harsh, causing her to bite my bottom lip and suck it into her mouth. Y/N is so fucking aggressive it drives me nuts. She gives me a high and adrenaline not even a fight could give. 

 “Pull your dick out, Ren,” she orders through muffled moans and our kiss. 

 “Fucking bossing me around to give you cock? Not mad at me anymore?” Y/N ignores my taunt and works her hands between us to untie my sweats. I hiss at the feel of her cool hands engulfing my dick to give it a few pumps.

 She must not know what her touch does to me. She handles my cock like she owns it, and gosh, I fucking love that shit. My fingers gently tangle into her coils to deepen our kiss, but she soon gets up to strip her clothes.

 Fuck… Fuck, she’s so goddamn sexy. I’ll never get tired of her thick body, filled with soft dips and curves. I look at her, observe her like she’s an expensive piece of art hung up at a museum because that’s what I see her as. 

 Pretty pussy leaking arousal and I smirk to myself, thinking how she had all that attitude earlier while being wet for me like she didn’t want me inside of her.

 “You’re fucking beautiful. You know that?” I ask, massaging her tits and looking up at her. “You still have that attitude or are you going to come ride my cock like a good girl?”

 She gently pushes me back against the couch with her lips on mine and straddles my lap. “Depends on if you’re going to be a good boy and take this pussy.”

 “Shit, angel. I will.”

 Y/N hums while reaching around to align my cock with her sex. Two seconds later, she slowly sinks down my length until I’m buried into the hilt. That soft lingering fuck that slips past her pretty lips sounds sexy as hell and has my dick twitching in response.

 I can’t bust now. Not yet. Even if the tightness and heat of her pussy pushes me off the edge of a mountain. Her pussy is so warm, so fucking warm, fat, and wet. Gosh, I don’t ever think I can be without this pussy. 

 I throw my head back and savor this feeling, but Y/N had other plans for me. 

 “Remember to look at me when I’m riding you, Ren,” she coos. “Eyes on me, baby. I want you to see how much I love this dick inside my pussy.”

 Fucking Christ. “Tell me how much you love it while bouncing on me.”

 And she does just that. Telling me how big and girthy I am, that she’s sorry for giving me attitude and admits that she just wanted dick. But no. I want her to fuck me like she’s mad. I need that type of energy pumping through my veins after this win tonight. 

 I reassure Y/N and tell her to fuck me harder. Her pace quickens and slaps her ass fervently against my cock. I can’t stop moaning her name. The wet slippery noises coming from her pussy increases in volume and it creates a mess between us. 

 This is where I belong, deep in her pussy and feeling her walls squeeze the hell out of me. I don’t even hold her hips or waist. I relax comfortably with my arms sprawl over the top of her couch, watching how gorgeous she looks while fucking what’s hers. 

 “Oh, fuck, Renji,” she moans, tugging her lips inwards and lolling her head to the side in complete pleasure.

 Those perfect, full tits bounces in my face and I can’t help but stare and become mesmerized. Light marks that resemble tiger stripes decorated the valley of breasts. Her nipples, pebbled and straining underneath my gaze, look desperate for my touch.

 I take it upon myself to pinch them between my fingers and a soft shriek escapes her mouth, further arching her back. 

 Y/N keeps getting wetter by the second, every bounce she makes. And hearing her sticky arousal, I know and see how she’s creaming my cock.  Purposely, I sit myself on the couch, thrusting up in her a bit to feel my head hit her g spot.

 “Ren, help me little,” she begs through a whimper. “Fuck me back.”

 I caress her cheeks with the back of my head. “Yeah? You want me to help you, sweetheart?”

 “Please.”

 God, I love it when she’s needy for me like this. 

 In no time, my hands are at her waist and my thrusts meet with her jumping movements. Y/N isn't loud when it comes to her sounds of pleasure. Vocal, yes. But right now, her moans and whimpers are louder than usual. 

 It’s like she needed my dick inside of pussy just as much as I needed it. 

 I see the desire in her brown hues. I feel the heat radiating off Y/N’s skin while my fingers dig into her flesh, holding her in place to pound upwards into her pussy. 

 This is what I wanted—to fuck my girl after a well deserved win. And she’s going to congratulate me how I want. 

 My lips are at her neck leaving wet kisses and sucking her flesh until purple specks form. “Coming home to this good fucking pussy. Gosh, I love how you feel, angel. Going to fucking mean it now when you say congrats?”

 “Congratulations, baby,” she purrs, slamming harder on my cock. “You did good… so damn good, Ren.”

 I hum, dragging my tongue along her neck. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

 Y/N continues to gasps out her pleas for me to fuck harder. I comply… I comply in helping my pretty girl come and savor the look when she washes over me. My grips are firm on her waist, betting that’ll leave marks when she wakes up the next poor, and drive my cock deeper into her pussy.

 I’m in pure awe. I feel my own releasing catching up to me the more I watch her take me. This is my woman. My fucking girl. I come home to this every night after every fight to hold her in my arms and fuck her. 

 Her name from my mouth sounds like a broken record when I moan her name. This fat, gushy, slick and tight pussy has this power over me. She won’t stop fucking squeezing me, I can’t prevent my face from growing hot. It’s intense how I feel right now, and it’s all because of Y/N.

 “Good, good fucking pussy. God, you’re so fucking good to me, angel face,” I rasp, pecking her lips. “You’re going to come for me?”

 “Yes, Renji, baby. I’m going to come. Keep giving me that dick. Please don’t stop, please.”

 “Put your fingers in my mouth.” She does quick with my command. I suck on her digits and coat them well with saliva before pushing them out of my mouth. “Now rub your clit, pretty girl. I wanna see you squirt everywhere.”

 Because she’s overwhelmed with arousal, Y/N stops bouncing on my cock and allows me to fuck her while she plays with clit. Her mouth hangs gape, drool slightly coating the side of her mouth and breathing heavily. 

 My balls slap her ass. My head kisses her soft cushion repeatedly. Her velvet walls transfer warmth to my cock and the bubble that rests in the pit of my stomach is on the verge of explosion.

 I’m about to come. Hard.

 But I need her to come first.

 “Fucking come for me, Y/N. Keep playing with that pretty pussy and moan my name,” I grit out, pushing past all my thrusts. 

 “Right there, Renji. Keep fucking me right there… I’m–oh, fuck–I’m coming.”

 She’s so pretty when she comes. Dark brown porcelain complexion, slick with sweat. Eyes rolling to the back of her head. Pussy clenching and unclenching around my cock. Moaning, whimpering my name back to back. 

She’s breathless. Flawless. I have this image of her painted perfectly in my mind. Watching Y/N come, makes me come, so I make quick work to pull her off my lap. And she knows exactly what I want–to fuck my release down her throat.

 Her mouth is as warm as her pussy, and I let out hitched breaths and harsh grunts when she swallows me whole. I’m relentless when forcing her head down on my cock as I facefuck her. The gurgling noises she makes are obscene. Pornogrpahic, even. 

 And what caused my come to shoot through her mouth is seeing that she’s still massaging her clit, eventually squirting all over her wooden floors. 

 My hips stutter and I throw my head back to moan into the air. “Fuck, Y/N! That’s my fucking girl. Look at you making a mess while choking on my cock and swallowing my come.”

 Y/N takes it upon herself to wrap her lips tighter around my cock and massage my balls, ensuring every single last of my nut has released in her mouth. I take it for a while, but I soon become sensitive, practically feeling my skin being sucked off.

 “Easy now, angel,” I say through an airy chuckle. I pull my cock out and her mouth echoes a pop sound. 

 She whines a little because I’m no longer in her mouth and it causes me to smirk because it wasn’t too long ago where she acted like she hated me. 

 My hand grasps her chin and guides it upwards to meet with my eyes. “You swallowed for me, Y/N? Open up.” She nods, sticking her tongue out. “Perfect.”

 “You’re going to fuck me again?” She asks, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.”

 Gosh, this woman will be the death of me.

tags: @dejwrld @hvshinas @diamondoidxx @xxjazzxx @thegirlwonder1 @ryukenzz @maiapuhpaia @elitesanjisimp @amyrahrose @sweetpeachies @abigolemess @linastired @diorsbrando @starrygetou @niya729 (if i didn't tag you it's because tumblr wouldn't have your user pop up)

[zzencat]

How To Energetically Get The Most Out Of Your School/Work Life - ⏳

Since we’re getting into the groove of things…let’s gaur!!!! For entertainment purposes.

From left to right. Breathe and choose the one(s) you can't keep your eyes off of.

TO ENHANCE ACCURACY BEFORE CHOOSING: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out.

Pile 1 | boomer mentality?

• change your ways. Bad habits, weak ways of thinking- sure, it’s uncomfortable. Growth is uncomfortable. Success is uncomfortable (I’m pretty sure someone super famous said that once maybe someone should remind me- 🤔) . You’ll find that if you look at things from a new perspective, a new angle, it’ll be beneficial for you in the long run. Just like looking at stress in a good way- there are studies on it that show that if you look at stress in a more positive way and use it to your advantage, you could really stretch out your life and live longer than those who were pessimistic about it (lol fun fact for you)

if you let go of the old, your luck will change. embrace these new changes, beliefs, environments, and people.

don’t keep your time and resources to yourself. allow for self reflection and transformations to happen!

big focus: don’t let history repeat itself. it’s time for a change! let go and let in.

—————————

Pile 2 | feeling stuck or stagnant

• pile 2, you tend to overthink everything. You let your mind run its course. That ain’t good news. It prevents you from reaching new heights- prevents you from even starting on something, just because of fear or even roots of perfectionism. There’s a huge lack of motivation, confidence, and trust in yourself- so much that even when I was pulling your cards they were hesitant to come out. it feels like russian roulette but it’s firing on its own. some people here might tend to overreact/throw a tantrum as well or be immature in situations that need sensibility (in this case, ya gotta take this time to mature.)

• I feel this group has trouble with balance in general. Nothing wrong with that on occasion but if that’s your default setting and you’re stuck in your mind all day, wondering about this and that—just a crazy clash of thoughts and ideas—ruminating and running around in a vicious cycle full of mental bullshit then it’s gonna stop you. It’s gonna stop you from growth, from achieving things, from getting started, from living life normally. That’s the bare minimum, isn’t it? All we gotta do is breathe and when life makes it hard, the brain works harder. The mind is truly the most dangerous thing and you have to embrace it, marinate in it, and pick at it. find out where the balance is between intuition, logic, and emotion.

you might feel restricted and the need to break free, but what you also need is a breather to calm down and assess yourself before making decisions. rmr, deep breaths.

•Do your own research, form your own opinions, figure out who you are, how you operate, and what you want in life. That’s how you begin to build character. That’s how you can move forward, even if it’s little by little. (A more stable foundation comes outta that too.)

big focus: practice self control. when they say “lead with your head,” they really mean the control center of logic, intuition, and emotion…but who’s doing more of the controlling here, you or your mind?

——————————

Pile 3 | “how could I miss that?”

• What you need to focus on is slowing down. it’s easy to miss things when we’re busy or taking on a lot of responsibilities. give yourself some love and care—tend to those inner callings. It’s good for your mental health as well. Remember: mental becomes physical.

• put yourself first for once. Connect with yourself and loved ones- go on one of them self dates- Yessir those exist 😳

• pile 3, you are easily the most efficient and speedy group- cards were legit being shuffled like they were being handled like a pro- but you know the con of that? You miss all the moments you could’ve had with friends, lovers, family. Yourself. You get to miss all the details because things are going too fast pow pow pow one after the other until it piles up and then you end up beating yourself up for small and simple mistakes…calm down and adjust yourself. You will be okay.

• I’m telling you fam- TAKE BREAKS. Give yourself moments to relax and rejuvenate before you push yourself!! You put too much pressure on yourself as it is

• connect with your inner feminine energy when you have the time—you gotta MAKE that time for yourself

• don’t be so neglectful in your relationships btw! Romantic, platonic, familial, wtv- learn how to manage your time so that you can separate work and assignments with social relations. Keep that communication up!! This includes your inner and outer voice. Reflect and acknowledge how you feel.

big focus: be more open minded to making new connections! spend more time with others. you’ll find emotional happiness and fulfillment in it :)

————————————

Ending Teddy note:

Hello hollywood people 😎 it has been a long minute! thank you for taking the time to read through this—YOU ARE AWESOME!!! Always remember to take what resonates and leave what doesn’t! I’ll cya fam ciao :)

[lovexjoe]

PENPALS Part 5

Mike wakes up along with Dorn and Kelly. Everyone completely confused on why Marcus was this fired up at 8 in the morning. He tosses the Polaroids on Mike’s lap and he picks up the naughty one first. How convenient.

“Goddamn she got a body-“ Mike brings it close

“Look at the rest of the photos Mike!”

“Wh-Oh! OHH SHIT! Lord forgive me for saying that about my niece.” Mike puts his hands up in the air for a mock apology cause he ain’t mean that shit at all.

“Your SON! Is fucking my DAUGHTER MIKE. OH MY GOD! And they SLEPT IN THE SAME ROOM LAST NIGHT. They was fucking Mike they was doing the nasty” Marcus was pacing the room while Dorn and Kelly just stood there wide eyed trying to process everything.

“Marcus she’s a grown adult now-“

“That’s not the point Mike! She was in school when they met….how the fuck you think he got those pictures?”

Mike couldn’t even save you on that one cause what were you doing being penpals with a prisoner? You were truly in deep shit. Marcus headed straight to the guest room and busted the door open to see you two snuggled up.

“WAKE THE FUCK UP!”

Your eyes shot open and so did Armando’s. You both looked at each other than at your dad. Oh goody. Wonderful way to wake up after getting the best sex of your life last night.

“Hiii dad,” you gave an innocent smile

“Oh no you got some explaining to do now before I kill this motherfucker get dressed and be in the living room in FIVE MINUTES.” Your dad, Dorn and Kelly headed to the living room while Mike stood back for a little bit.

“Happy for y’all but you missy you in some shit alright. Good luck. AND Y’ALL BETTER BE ASHAMED OF YA SELVES.” He acts as if he’s scolding you guys on the way back to the living room.

“Why did you have to get the chill parent” you groaned as Armando laughs.

“You really are in some shit but I’m here for you.” He kisses your hand.

You both got ready and headed to the living room for the inevitable.

Your dad motioned you to sit on the couch while everyone stood around you. Armando sat next to you and held your hand and Marcus looked like he was gonna throw up.

“Now how the fuck did this motherfucker get these” he waved the Polaroids around.

Aw fuck. I thought he just found out we fucked not that we met prior.

“I-“

“You wasn’t busy study bones and shit?! I don’t get it do you just like trouble?! I thought your frontal lobe developed already!”

“CAN YOU LET ME TALK?!”

The room went silent.

“It happened. I was bored and I just did it okay? I’m sorry but I love him. I understand I could have met someone completely different and dangerous but I met Armando. I regret nothing. Plus you ain’t say shit when Mike kissed me before I left for college”

“HE WHAT?!” Marcus and Armando was ready to fight.

Uh oh …..

Taglist: @yeahnohoneybye @cardi-bre91 @onlysarang @romanreignsluver1 @minwn

@armandosbabymama @dyttomori @bbyplutosblog @vergilnelosparda @believeinthefireflies95

@ebsmind @hopetookourvibe @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @poppetbaby02 @bitchyglittersuit @marley1773

@jacobscipioswoman @sunrisesfromthewest

@midnightheat @ky44

[moralesmilesanhour]

Hello!!! How are you? I’ve been a follower for the past few days and was wondering if I could request something.

I was hoping to request a fic or like give you a prompt for something for miles42 × femreader

So it goes like this- yk those super corny reads that are like the reader's pinning for miles and like sometimes miles finds them annoying but in a cute way but he don't know that her yk? So he's talking to his homeboys about her, talm about some how she's so "annoying, a nuisance" and guess who's behind the wall listening? The reader herself.

So this goes one of two ways- she either matches up there, confronts him. And she's like "flipping fine, if that's how you feel then lemme get out of ur way- you won't hear a peep from me" and she like just ignores him and he learns how he feels about her, sees how his life is so boring without her and all that- goes to apologize happy ending..

Option number 2: silent treatment. Like just slowly drifting away until he once again comes to the realization that he needs her and all that happy ending yay!

Feel free to do whatever you want with this but I'm thinking of sending the same request to other authors to see what they come up with cause everyone has a style k? And i just love studying them and reading them cause evervtime- no matter how similar the prompt is- they always manage to invoke different feelings with in me.

Anyway- have fun doing this- but remember you don't have to cause this is kinda too much and I'm sorry😓

"I want my pen back."

wc: >1,200 A/N: okay so i got a bit carried away...this is a long one. (yes I am using this as an excuse to try out the gradient thing) thank you anon for this fun request! i also rlly like ur reasoning behind it and i hope i was able to do this prompt some type of justice lol

The gel pen clattered to the ground.

“I got it,” you said, grinning at Miles. You squat to grab it before the boy can act to get it himself, and he sighs as you hand it to him.

“Thanks.”

Miles turned the pen every which way between his fingers.

You had gifted it to him on the first day of school, with that same expectant grin. The little cartoon dogs that surrounded the perimeter had begun to fade with use because – admittedly – it had actually turned out to be a good ass pen.

He’d thought initially that you were just being nice; maybe you were handing shit out to everyone because it was the first day, understandable. 

But then, it was highlighters (the erasable ones).

Pink sticky-notes on his locker, telling him to have a nice day with the ‘i’s dotted with hearts.

A new sketchbook for Secret Santa.

Miles’ pencil case had rapidly gotten bulkier, and when you rushed to grab a seat next to him during the one class without assigned seats, it finally clicked.

You were trying to get his attention. And he wasn’t sure what would happen if you got it.

“I like the new braids.”

He was snapped out of his thoughts, and turned to you.

“Huh?”

“The braids,” you laughed. “I like the pattern. Who did ‘em for you?”

A tiny smirk ghosted the boy’s lips.

“My mom. Just like the last time you asked me.”

He ran a hand instinctively over the meandering zig-zag pattern that his cornrows had been sectioned into. Miles looked at you from his periphery; you were still staring. 

“Bitch, just ask him out already!”

Your friend smacked the back of your shoulder as the two of you took your sweet time getting back to your lockers.

“Alright, today, I swear,” you said, hand over your heart for emphasis.

A beat of silence passes. “But what if he says no?” 

She groaned.

“Then he says no, and you can save your money. But say something, it’s getting embarrassing.”

Your friends’ encouragement landed you here, around the corner of a building where Miles and a gaggle of other boys from your homeroom were bursting into raucous laughter.

“Yo, why you ain’t bag her yet? She wants you bad,” one boy said.

Unsure if the ‘she’ in question was you, you stay where you are and keep listening.

“I dunno, she kinda annoying,”

Miles’ low voice makes your ears perk up.

“One day she gon’ run outta things to say about my hair, she has to!”

…Oh.

The buoyant feeling in your chest sinks as the group erupts into another laughing fit. If you asked him out now, you’d hear about it for the rest of the year.

Shoving your phone into your pocket, you turn back the way you came. 

Miles knew something was off when you sat down the next morning without a word. 

“You good?” he asked.

You glanced at him, then nodded before going back to playing with the beads in your hair. The excruciating silence stretched on for almost the entirety of class before it was broken again.

“Do you…wanna help me with my homework? I’ll really let you, this time.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Morales, you got an ‘A’ in every class.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Your name’s on every bulletin board.”

“Damn,” the boy muttered to himself as his leg bounced under the desk.

Your beads clattered against your back as you rose from your seat. The bell had rung, finally. You didn’t even say ‘bye’.

Miles cracked open his locker. One of your sticky notes from last week had begun to un-stick and fluttered to the ground. There were no new ones. He bent to pick it up, noticing how neat and round your handwriting was on these compared to the way you wrote in class. The letters didn’t run together, like you were in a rush.

Neatly folding the note and sticking it in his pocket, Miles shut his locker to reveal your face. The boy nearly yelped in surprise.

“Where the hell did you come from? Scared the shit outta me,” he said with a grin.

“I want my pen back.”

Miles froze. 

“Which pen?”

You tilted your chin up towards the one he was currently gripping in his left hand. He looked down at it like a wad of cash.

“Oh.”

He couldn’t just not give the pen back to you…

…but he didn’t want to give it to you, either.

“What you need it for? Don’t you have, like, a whole store full of these?”

“Miles, I gotta get to class. I’m not playing,” you reached for Miles’ hand, but he raised it high above his head.

Instead of a smirk or mocking sneer, something like worry was etched onto the boy’s features. 

“Tell me what’s up witchu first.”

“What are you talking about? I’m about to be late, c’mon.”

“You ain’t said a word to me all day,” he dropped his hand momentarily. “Are you sick? Did I do something? What–hey!”

You had snatched the pen out of the boy’s hand when he wasn’t looking, throwing it into your bag.

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

You turn to retreat down the hallway, but stop with a huff when Miles calls after you.

“Wait!”

“I’m waiting.”

“Come see me after school?”

You kicked an empty can down the sidewalk in front of Miles’ apartment.

“Make this quick, I gotta go study.”

He looks everywhere else to avoid meeting your eyes, looking for the right words.

“You didn’t answer me earlier,” Miles awkwardly shuffled his feet. “Are you mad at me?”

“...Yeah, kinda.”

“For what?”

You stop to think for a moment, crossing your arms. 

“For…for letting me hand you that pen, knowing you weren’t gonna give it back,” you began.

Miles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “That’s it?”

You shook your head profusely, “N-no, I’m not done. You let me buy you all that stuff, put all that dumb shit in your locker, whole time you don’t even like me–”

“You don’t know that,” Miles interrupted. Your head snapped up to look at him, and you paused.

“I don’t?”

Neither of you say anything for a moment, then Miles remembers the note in his pocket. He takes it out and shows it to you.

“These? Are cute as fuck,”

He searches for more words, ten continues, "A-and I use that sketchbook every day. That pen? It’s like, my favorite,” he laughs. “I got half a mind to steal it back from you.”

Miles watches you expectantly. Your arms are still crossed, but the corners of your lips quirk up in amusement.

“So you like getting free stuff.”

“No-! I…”

The boy’s arms had begun to flail around in frustration. You hold back a giggle, never having seen him squirm like this before. It’s a nice change of pace.

“Alright, listen. I like hearing you talk to me every morning, and…”

He trailed off. He had begun slightly bouncing on his toes.

“...I like you.”

At some point while watching Miles struggle to explain himself, the float-y feeling in your chest had come back. You tilted your head to the side, and smiled.

“Okay. What are you gonna do about it?”

The boy’s eyes lit up.

“Where do you wanna go?”

[janeyseymour]

Intervention- pt 2

an anon asked for a part 2 where Barb might be hurt that she doesn't know about you.

WC: ~2.9k

“You have a girlfriend?” Jacob is the first to gasp out. “Mel Mel, I didn’t know that I wasn’t the only queer one in the school!”

Your girlfriend rolls her eyes. “Yes, I do have a girlfriend, and you ain’t nothin’ special kid. I just don’t make it as known as you do.”

“I’m Y/N,” you smile at the group. You then address them all by name. They look impressed. And then you get to Barbara Howard- of course you know that she’s your girlfriend’s work-wife. “And Barbara, I’ve heard the most about you. It’s truly a pleasure getting to finally meet you.”

“I wish I could say the same,” she glances at you as she shakes your offered hand. “Melissa has kept you her dirty little secret for how long?”

“Barb,” the redhead warns lowly. “She ain’t my dirty little secret- just a topic that hadn’t really come up in conversation.”

“Well, I would say that-”

“Why don’t you guys come on in,” you tell the group softly, trying to get the two squabbling women to quit. There does not need to be any point of contention while your girlfriend’s friends are here, and it certainly does not need to be over you. All you want to do is make a good impression.

They all enter the house that they thought they knew and had seen prior to the breakup with Gary. But now, it’s different. It’s… definitely still Melissa- but the plastic on the couches are gone, it’s a bit brighter, and there’s a sense of someone living in the space. It’s nice. You don’t miss the way that Barbara only continues to study you as you lead everyone in, offering drinks or food in the kitchen.

“Melissa wouldn’t let me in the kitchen for this, so please… know that you won’t get food poisoning from today,” you joke as you hold the redhead’s hand. “There are other beverages outside in a cooler if you would rather a beer or something like that. Please… help yourselves.”

You head outside yourself to go grab yourself and your girlfriend a Yuengling. “Does anybody want a beer?”

Mr. Johnson is the only one that agrees, the others deciding that a water or a soda is okay for now. So, you head out to grab three beers.

Meanwhile, the rest of the crew is staring down the mob-like woman that they thought they all knew.

“What?”

“Damn, Schemmenti,” Ava raises a hand for a high five. “She’s hot!”

Melissa just rolls her eyes, but she does give her boss a high five, along with Mr. Johnson.

“Well, tell us about her!” Jacob and Janine both look at the redhead urgently. “How long have you been together, what’s the deal with her?!”

Barbara just looks at the woman she thought trusted her enough to tell her about a relationship like this with crossed arms.

“She is here, so you can just ask her yourself you know,” Melissa chuckles as she sees you come back inside. You go for the bottle opener on the fridge, expertly popping the tops off of the beers before distributing them out. 

“Ask me what?” you ask as you snake an arm around Melissa’s waist and pull her closer gently.

“About you!” Janine states with fire. “We didn’t even know you existed!”

“Well,” you chuckle. “I’m Y/N, I’m an accountant down at one of the firms in Center City, Mel and I met at a Bally’s in Atlantic City, and we’ve been dating for about… a year and a half?”

“You kept this from us for a year and a half?” Gregory cuts in.

Your girlfriend just shrugs. “Youse never asked if I was dating anyone- just assumed I was single and mopey.”

You see the way that Barbara glares down her friend, and you try to cut the tension by inviting everybody to come sit outside in the small backyard that you have. They of course follow. 

You and Melissa allow everybody to find a seat before you go to sit, but of course, there is only one chair. She takes it while you perch on the side of it. With an eye roll, she pulls you into her lap.

“We’re dating, hun,” she tells you. “You’re allowed to act like you love me.”

“I do,” you laugh. “Was just trying to be respectful and not make anyone uncomfortable.”

“Greg and Janine were grinding up on each other at the club,” Ava laughs with a wave of her hand. “And that was before they were dating. Y’all are together, and have been for some time.”

The two mentioned blush as they look at each other… they were hoping their boss would’ve forgotten that by now.

It’s a bit of time as they chat and catch up, Melissa filling you in on the missing pieces as she sips from her beer, before conversation comes to a quiet lull. Barbara only continues to stare down the two of you, and it’s quite clear she isn’t happy.

Barbara Howard not approving of this relationship is something that could make or break what you have going on with who you genuinely think might be the love of your life. Barbara Howard was the one person that you were really hoping to impress, and she’s making it quite clear that she does not care for you. Barbara Howard hasn’t spoken a word to you or Melissa since the first few minutes that she’s been at the house. And it is making you beyond uncomfortable. 

“Well, I think I might start firing up the grill,” you sigh softly as you stand from your place in Melissa’s lap. “We have stuff for burgers and dogs, so… if everyone wants to let me know what they want, I can get that started?”

You have everyone’s orders being shouted at you faster than you can type the orders down in your notes. All of the orders have been taken except for… except for Barbara’s.

“Barbara?” you ask softly, eyes full of warmth. You’re really trying to get her on your good side.

“I’m fine,” she says astutely.

“Make a couple extra of each,” the redhead tells you. “I’ll grab a couple plates for you to put ‘em on as they’re finishing up.”

Of course, Mr. Johnson, Jacob, and Gregory both follow you over to the grill and make conversation with you as you cook, leaving the rest of the Abbott crew with your girlfriend.

While Jacob is questioning what feels like every aspect of your life at the grill, you can hear Barbara and Melissa getting into it.

“Are you seriously mad?” you can hear your girlfriend ask her work wife, clearly annoyed. 

“I don’t know why you wouldn’t trust me enough to tell me who’s courting you,” Barbara states, hurt evident in her voice.

“Nobody’s courtin’ me, Barb. This ain’t Bridgerton,” the second grade teacher retorts with a sarcastic laugh. 

“I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell me,” your girlfriend’s work wife tells her. “We’ve been friends for over fifteen years, and you’ve told me about other relationships- like Gary.”

“Because you approved of Gary,” Melissa tells Barbara.

“And what would make you think I wouldn’t approve of Y/N?”

“Well,” your girlfriend drawls out. “She’s a woman, you’re a woman of God, she’s a hell of a lot younger than we are, and it started out at a casino and sharing a cigarette. Forgive me if I thought that Barbara Howard, woman of God, might not like the backstory I would’ve given you.”

Barbara goes to spit something else out, but Janine cuts in rather quickly. For once, her and Ava are on the same team and are able to divert the conversation elsewhere. 

You awkwardly make your way over to the group, juggling plates in hand. “Dinner is served,” you smile as you set them on the table. “Did anyone want a beer or a seltzer or anything like that?”

There are a few that chime in, ready for a drink. You oblige their requests with a smile. Dinner is nice, if a bit stilted as people try to find common ground to chat with you about. It all ends up leading back to Abbott, and you can’t find yourself complaining. It’s quite funny to hear the hi jinx that happen in an elementary school and all of the background things that happen out of sight of the kids. And then the topic shifts to the relationship that everybody has with Melissa. You find that Melissa is like a mother to Jacob, an aunt to Janine and in turn Gregory, close friends with Ava despite appearances at school, Mr. Johnson and her have some sort of ally between the two of them, and of course you already knew her and Barbara were like work wives.

Barbara just huffs at that sentiment before sighing. “I suppose I should be heading out.”

“But Barb!” Janine protests. “We haven’t even started setting off fireworks!”

“I got the good ones too,” the custodian cuts in. 

But the woman dead set on heading home holds up a hand to halt their protests against her leaving. “It is time that I leave.”

She says goodbye to everybody before turning to you and your girlfriend. “Thank you for inviting me over,” is all she says. And then she’s seeing herself out.

The rest of the fourth of July gathering is quite nice, and you find yourself quite glad that you were able to meet the people that Melissa constantly talks about during the school year.

Before you know it, the school year is right around the corner. Despite having been in the same classroom for the last several years, Melissa asks if you’ll accompany her down to the classroom to prepare for her incoming students. You wholeheartedly agree, knowing that a good deed on your part will end up in well… a good deed.

As the two of you are lugging in a few boxes of new supplies, Barbara pulls up. There is no hello, no ‘how are you’. Just a simple glance before she turns her nose up at the two of you and begins to unload her own car.

“Barb,” your girlfriend calls in the direction of the kindergarten teacher. There is no dignified response. “Jesus Christ.”

“Give her a few minutes,” you tell the redhead softly as you pull yet another box of supplies out of your car. “She’s probably just in a rush to get all of her things in here before she exchanges pleasantries.”

“No,” the second grade teacher huffs. “She’s still all pissy that I didn’t tell her about you. Hasn’t reached out since the cookout.”

You know that to be quite odd. When the two are on good terms, they speak quite frequently- last year over Summer break they had spoken almost everyday. 

You just nod before jogging over to Barbara’s car and politely asking you if she needed any assistance. She told you no. So you jogged back to your own car before picking up the same box that you had earlier and carrying it into the school.

The two of you make another trip, as does Barbara. Still, there are no words spoken between the two, and you can clearly see that it’s upsetting your girlfriend.

In the confines of her classroom, you close the door and perch yourself on Melissa’s desk. “Babe?”

“What?” she asks as she continues to staple the border around her bulletin board.

“You need to take a breath and maybe consider things from Barbara’s side,” you say quietly.

“So you’re on her side?” Green eyes whip around and land on you.

You slowly climb off of her desk and go to pull her in gently by the waist. You give her a sweet peck on the lips before whispering, “I just don’t like seeing the tension between you and your best friend.”

“I’m not even mad at her,” Melissa shrugs. “She’s mad at me.”

“I understand that,” you promise your girlfriend quietly. “But… imagine how you would feel if she started dating someone seriously, and you didn’t find out until they had been living together and dating for a year and a half.”

“I wouldn’t have to imagine that, because she’s been married to Gerald for thirty years, and the two of them are more in love than-”

“Mel,” you sigh quietly. “Just… put yourself in her shoes. Please.”

“I would… I would be pissed,” the teacher admits. “But I know that she wouldn’t like how our relationship started, and I know she was pissed when I ended things with Gary, and-”

“She stood by you through your divorce, she stood by you through your breakup with Gary; you’ve seen her through almost everything her and Gerald have been through. I can see why she’s hurt right now, hun.”

“I don’t,” your girlfriend huffs. “She knows I’m a more private person.”

“But you aren’t with her,” you reason. “Around her, you’re you. She knows every piece of you, even pieces I don’t know yet. I don’t think she’s mad at you- I think she’s hurt. This is just how she’s showing her hurt right now.”

“So what do you suppose I should do about it?” Melissa purses her lips. You can’t resist stealing a quick kiss.

“I think you should talk to her,” you advise. “I think you should apologize for not telling her once things got more serious between the two of us, and then I think you should invite her out for a dinner with just the two of you so you can chat and tell her more about us before suggesting a dinner with all three of us.”

“When did you get to be so wise?” your girlfriend asks you as she pulls you just the slightest bit closer to her.

“I’ve had some practice,” you chuckle softly. Then you pat her butt gently. “Go. Talk to her.”

Melissa bites her lip nervously before nodding. She heads out the door. You follow a few seconds later.

“I’m just going to stand outside the door out of sight in case the two of you need any mediation,” you tell her when she turns around and looks at you curiously.

She nods before continuing her journey down to the kindergarten wing. She knocks on the door in a rhythm that you know is only saved for her work wife.

“Melissa,” Barbara says, but there’s a bit of bite in her tone.

“Barb,” your girlfriend says quietly. “Can we… can we talk?”

“About?”

“I came down to apologize to you,” the redhead says softly as she steps into the room a bit further.

“For?” You can practically see the woman folding her arms across her chest and looking at Melissa as though she’s a student.

“For not tellin’ you about Y/N,” Melissa breathes. “For keeping her a secret from you, and then not being considerate of the feelings that you have. I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just… nervous? I know that you’re a woman of faith with morals higher than I ever thought possible, and if it were to go up in flames with her, I didn’t want you to have to be there to pick up the pieces like you’ve done so many times before.”

“Melissa, if you thought I wouldn’t approve of the relationship you have with Y/N because she is also a woman, I would like to remind you that I adore Jacob like the son I never had,” the kindergarten teacher says evenly. “And we are best friends- I want to be there for you at the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. I do not care that you are dating a woman; I just want you to be happy. I wish you would have let me know earlier than you did. I thought we were closer than that.”

“We are,” your girlfriend says. “I messed up, Barb. An’ I’m sorry.”

“Well, thank you,” Barbara says quietly.

Melissa shifts where she stands. “How can I make it up to you? Dinner maybe? Just the two of us?”

You can hear the shift in tone between the two of them. Something changes. “I’d quite like that. I’ve missed you these past two months.”

You know it’s taking everything in Melissa to not make a comment about how she had reached out over the summer, but Barbara had not reciprocated. “I’ve missed you too,” you hear her say.

“And I better get to hear all about Y/N,” the kindergarten teacher chuckles. “She seems like a sweet girl, and she knows her way around a grill.”

“She’s… she’s really great, Barb,” you hear your girlfriend’s voice go soft- something she really only does when she’s talking about you. “She’s something special.”

“Well, I look forward to getting to know her,” Barbara chuckles. “And ooh, girl, do I have some things to tell you about what my girls got up to over the summer.”

“Over dinner? I’d be delighted, but right now Y/N is here helping me clean up my room for the upcoming year, and I’m sure she’d be more than happy to come help you too.”

And just like that, you know that everything just may be okay. Barbara and Melissa have made up, the kindergarten teacher herself said that you seem like a sweet girl, and now your girlfriend won’t be as much of a grump coming home from a hard day’s work today.

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo

[scremogirl]

☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐧

Yandere! Serial Killer x Reader

Mentions of blood! Mentions of Death! Mentions of mutilation! Mentions of Murder, GN! Reader, NReader/Diolouge uses a lot of black colloquialisms/AAVE *slightlyyyy black coded but only for the speaking bits. NO APPERANCE MENTIONED!* READ THE NOTE AT THE END PLZ! (●’◡’●)ﾉ Part 2 here Part 3 here

Halloween.

The day where people grasp the fact that the summer's over and the seasons have finally changed. Corny decorations on front porches, masks in windows to scare unaware customers, and people dressed as slutty cartoon characters.

You loved the last one. You’ve always worked hard on your costumes; from a small cameo in the school yearbook to entering contests and pageants. You loved fashion, everything about it. The different fabrics, colors, patterns; you cherished it all. So, it’s no wonder that’s what you’ve chosen as your destined career path. You somehow managed to get into the third most prestigious fashion school. I say third because the first one you applied for, was full of egotistical French exchange students who do nothing but compare their lives at home to their lives in America. The second… well, you don’t want to talk about it. Regardless, you’re so grateful your talents have been recognized.

That leads us to now. At the biggest fright fest of the year. Your professor decided that if everyone got at least a 95% or above on the unit test, he’d take the whole class on a field trip to the annual Freak do Shek Carnival. A free trip and creating a new costume? You’ve never studied harder in your life. You spent days working on your costume; hoping to win the annual costume contest.

“Breaking news! The killer know as the “Mask Maker” is still on the loose and is currently suspected to be in the Witchwood area. It is recommended for all residents to stay indoors travel in groups-,”

Your heart sinks.

No, no, no! Why does it have to be now? Why here? The area you lived in was one of the safest in the city! Police patrolled regularly, security systems were available to all, and most people have been traveling in groups these days. So, why? You look at your friend, Malika, who no doubt received the same alert as you did, judging by her face.

“Well what the hell are we supposed to do now!?” She yells in frustration. You all have arrived at the festival and the bus has already taken its leave. Unless you call an Uber, there’s no way out; but then again, with a killer on the loose, no person would be dumb enough to let any stranger in their car. You tell your teacher your concerns, but does he listen? No.

“We’ll be fine,” , “just travel in groups,” , and “make sure you check in with everyone at least every 15 minutes,” is all he says to shake your worries. Great job by the way. With that, he goes ahead with another one of the chaperones, probably on their way to get drunk on cheap beer and look at young girls. Pig.

“I know I ain’t stayin for damn sure,” you chuckle at Malikas abrasiveness and nod your head in agreement.

“Who’s gonna pick us up though? We all came here on a bus and no Lift driver is stupid enough to let strangers in at this time,” you both sigh and end up agreeing that she’d call her boyfriend to come get you. The only downside is he lives in the next county. That means 3 whole hours plus some that you two have to try and rid your paranoia.

“How ‘bout we go check out the costume display for the upcoming show? Maybe scope out some the competition?”

“You know what Malika, that sounds like a great idea,” she holds out her arm and you take it , laughing your way down the hay covered dirt path wearily dodging scare actors. Unbeknownst to you the glowing eyes of one of the masks are filled with anything but fake intent.

“Hey, Mal? Is he on the way yet?” You two have already viewed the display, concrete knowing you’re gonna knock everyone at the park. So you decided that maybe a little sightseeing wouldn’t be that bad.

“Ugh! He said he’s on his way but knowing him, that means he just got in the shower,” with a deep sigh she puts her phone back in her pocket.

“Look,” she continues

“ How about we go get something to eat and enjoy what we can. I mean, we did wait all year for this,” you’re a little hesitant but you end up caving; fried oreos do sound good right now.

The walk to the concession stands is filled with jump scares from actors, Jack, o lanterns illuminating your path and the laughter of children and adults a like. The environment reminds you of why you came here in the first place, maybe there is nothing to be worried about.

Oof!

“Oh I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” to wrapped up in the scenery and nostalgia, you failed to notice one of the actors scrambling by. You hear the muffled laughter of Malika and try your best not to strangle her to cover up your embarrassment. Fortunately , it was just the water that spilled on them; Unfortunately, your oreos lay spread eagle on the ground. However, even with a soaked costume and powdered sugar all over their boots, they remain in character. Only giving you a tilt of the head, a grunt, and tightening their grip on their axe. The eyes that lay behind the papier-mâché mask boar deep into your soul, the white contacts holding something deep and dark. The feeling of guilt is slowly washed away and replaced with anxiousness. Man, they're getting employee of the month. Still, you feel bad so you grab the napkins from your back pocket and gently wipe their mask, some of the fake blood coming off along with the water. Hmm, these effects are off the chain too.

As you clean them up you can’t help but to think that they’ll join the costume contest, definitely giving you a run for your money. You're snapped out of your thoughts when Malika pulls you along the road, whining about how upset she is because she didn’t get to snag one of your Oreos. Making your leave, you look over your shoulder one last time, only to find those same white eyes trailing your figure.

My god, you're even more beautiful up close.

“Personally, if that happened to me I’d kill myself,” once again, your friends laughter snapped you outta your own mind. You just giggle and brush it off.

“Shut up! It’s not like I did it on purpose! Besides he was kinda fine not gon’ hold you,”

“I know right! the way he titled his, had a tear running down my leg not gon’ lie,”

“Girl… don’t you gotta man? Like… on his way here?”

“Shhhh don’t ruin the fantasy,”

Two hours have officially passed, the same old texts between Malika and her boyfriend, this time however he was actually in the car. She had pressed him to turn on his location for safety, you could never be too sure now can you? He should’ve been here by now but with how crowded the festival is getting, you can’t blame him. Thankfully, the contest is just about to start! Going against your better judgment, you and Malika thought that being apart for about 15-20 mins wouldn’t hurt. She’ll be waiting in the audience while you go change anyways.

Rushing to the changing rooms you fail to notice another contestant coming towards you just as fast. For the second time this night you managed to bump into someone.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t mean I-,”

“Watch where you’re going bitch! Y’know how long it took me to make this thing?” You look to the left and then to the right trying to figure out who the fuck they think they’re talking too.

“Look I didn’t mean it, I’m sorr-,”

“Yea yea whatever, just stay outta my way next time. Besides, it’s not like you're gonna win this thing anyways,” just before you were about to give them a piece of your mind, the manager stepped in and separated you two. Jeez now this is gonna take even longer than you expected. You thought it was only fair to let Malika know shoot her a quick text. “No worries, babe! Gill's location says he’s here already so Imma grab us a quick bite to eat before I look for him and we head to you. See ya soonnn❤︎︎!!!”

Good; that buys you just enough time. After getting changed and checking your reflection for the hundredth time, you step out feeling as confident as ever. Just as you exit the stall, you hear the worst blood curdling scream of your entire life. You look over to your right and see that asshole from early and that guy with the really nice axe murder costume. Your eyes have to be deceiving you! One of their legs is completely severed, blood dripping from the stub left behind. Slash marks, deep and crooked, adorn their arms and remaining leg. They Look as if their limbs could snap off at the slightest breeze. They cry and groan as they reach out to you. Following their eyes the crazed murder shifts his eyes to you. Their weapon of choice freezing in their hands mid swing. Their victim continues to moan in pain and crawl away, begging and pleading for someone to save them. But…you just laugh.

“I see what you're trynna do here, and it ain’t workin’. Your costume is good but it isn’t better than mine. Assholes,” the last part is mumbled under your breath as you walk away. Even though you presented yourself in this prideful manner, you can’t help the feeling of disappointment that bubbles inside you. You tried really hard this year, let’s just hope that everyone else thinks you did too.

CHOP

Finally. Holding up the severed head he smiles, crooked and eerie. The bitch wouldn’t stop screaming, but at least he gets to see the look of fear in their face forever.

“Hey! What the hell’re you doing!?” hm? Turning around he sees the manager from earlier, standing before him with wide eyes filled with shock and anger. He can’t have his plans be ruined by a little slip up! He didn’t mean to act so impulsive but he couldn’t help. Nobody talks to you like that; not if he had something to do about it. Swinging his weapon of choice up on his shoulder, he’s about to take a step before he’s interrupted.

“Didn't I tell you guys to keep all spare props in bags because of the fake blood?! It gets everywhere and I’m the one who has to clean it up!” They shoved him to the side before grabbing a large trash bag from the cart they lugged behind them; simultaneously grabbing a mop and bucket. Continue to grumble about how “they don’t get paid enough for this” and “all the newbies are irresponsible”. But hey, free disposal.

“Sh, sh it’s okay; it was never your fault,” you tried comforting her but to no luck. All she can see is red as the burning hot tears streaming from her eyes ruin the makeup she spent so long on

“Okay?! It’s not okay (Y/N)! He said he was stuck in traffic all the while he was toungin’ down some bitch in a slutty cat costume. Very unoriginal btw!” You try to keep your giggle in for her sake. You kept trying to tell her this idiot wasn’t any good for years but nooo “the dick was too good to let go,” and apparently, someone else thought so too. Her weeping continues before she builds up the courage to speak again.

“All I wanna do is go home; fuck this competition,” you smile seeing her personality shine through her sadness just a little.

“Yea, fuck this competition,”sure you’re sad about to being able to participate this year, but with your best friend in distress and a serial killer on the loose, you can’t help but to think that maybe you could wait until next year. Ordering the Uber, you suggest that before it gets here, you should check in with your teacher first. Of course you don’t have his number and you're sure your other classmates are not worried about their phones unless they’re snapping pics and recording for their stories . You send them a quick text to your classes group chat and look for the exit.

“He really is a dick, you don’t need him,”

“Yea, I know. Besides, maybe that axe guy will take care of him for me,” she giggles but you don’t find it funny at all.

“What?”

“Yea, I saw him outta the corner of my eye when I walked in on he who shall not be named about to fuck that other girl,” she rolls her eyes and continues walking but you remain stationary.

“You gotta be joking,“ she turns around and gives you a quizzical look so you continue further.

“He and another dickhead I bumped into put on this whole show to get me to drop outta the contest. Lost limbs, fake blood and everything. I don’t know what his problem is, but he needs to leave me the fuck alone before I get the manager, on some Karen shit”

“Now that I think about it, he has been high-tailing us ever since we’ve got here,” she freezes before looking at you dead on. She wipes away the tear stains and brushes her nose against her sleeve before scanning the area.

“You don’t think it’s Kee-,”

“No! Don’t. It’s not him. It couldn’t be,” she holds up her hands in defense before pulling you along to get the hell up outta here. It goes dead silent, tension filling the air. It couldn't be him! It’s just some rando whos jealous of your skill! But…your mind was just playing tricks on you. That feeling of paranoia started to rise again and the flashbacks felt like they were hitting you in waves. She saw this and decided to speak up before it got worse.

“Hey, I’m sorry for bringing it up. I really didn’t mean to-,” this time it’s your turn to cut her off. You offer her a light smile and hold her hand in yours before squeezing.

“It’s alright. Besides, who needs men anyways. You’re all I need,” she gives you an even brighter one, her usual self returning, before squeezing just as hard, laying her head on your shoulder while you walk.

“Yea, fuck men,” you two laugh in sync before changing the conversation to what you’ll do when you get home; maybe a Horror movie marathon and some junk food will cheer you up. Who cares, the night has just begun for you and there’s no way anything was gonna ruin it.

Watching you walk away a gloved hand slams into a tree. Dammit! You won’t get away so easily. You’re his. Nobody else’s. He’ll make sure of it. Starting with her.

Hello everyone!!!! Hope you enjoyed the first part of my Halloween special. I’m breaking this down into 3 parts because I’m afraid people will think it’s too long if I put the whole thing on tumblr. I will be making an Ao3 and the whole fic will be posted without any split up. When it’s created and up I’ll let you know. Hope you enjoyed Loves!!! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎.

-Love, Sosa❤️

[cindol]

͘ ࣭⸰ ♡ " HOW THEY WOULD DO AS CO-PARENTS WITH YOU ! ” ͘ ࣭⸰ ♡

x fem reader

characters included : manjiro sano, sanzu haruchiyo, ken ryuji, rindou haitani, mitsuya takashi,

tw — everyone is a baby father, drug usage/drug bender mentioned

﹒.ᐟ 𐚁 cw— angst, bonten!sanzu, bonten!mikey, bonten!rindou, sanzu and mikey aren’t very good fathers, fluff

MANJIRO SANO ( MIKEY ! )

He’s in his son’s life but very distant. He makes sure you and his son are always taken care of but he doesn’t have a active relationship with his son, the most he’s ever done is show up to one elementary school graduation and pat his head a few times when rarely visiting your house.

His right hand man sanzu is there though as an uncle, kinda.

SANZU HARUCHIYO

Active in his daughter’s life but the relationship isn’t so strong due to him always going on benders and disappearing. When you get into arguments with him about his disappearing act his response is always the same as he goes through your fridge.

“You disappeared for three months sanzu, with not even a call or a text of where you were.” trying to nail these words deep into his head while he rummaged through your fridge.

“three months sanzu, no call, not even a ‘hey I’ll be out for this amount of days! But I’ll see you till then” you just left me and yuna wondering when daddy was gonna be back.” You weren’t even angry for yourself, sanzu wasn’t your boyfriend so that hole was already digged and burried. What really made you pissed is how he up and left leaving your daughter wondering why he hadn’t visited in such a long time, again.

Sanzu grumbled closing the fridge.“relax relax, enough with your grouching and shit. I was on a trip with mikey, just forgot my phone.”

“You were posting on your instagram story pictures of airplane food.”

there’s silence then a cough from him till he chuckles.“ah well, got the girl a cute little bunny stuffed animal. She still likes em at that age right?”

at least his heart is in the right place, sorta.

KEN RYUJI ( DRAKEN ! )

Might take the crown as one of the best baby fathers. He loves his baby girl, never misses any dance recital or holidays or birthdays to spend with his daughter.

his sweetness with his daughter almost makes you wanna get back together with him, it doesn’t help how even after the divorce he still was the gentleman he showed you from the beginning.

Always so helpful too when you look too drowsy and tired with eyebags.“I can always take sana an extra day you know? Don’t got shit on my weekend plans anyways” he joked at the end but still rubbing your shoulders, just because of how sweet he is.

You were sure that if you told him you have a date he’d tell you to enjoy yourself, much to his dismay.

RINDOU HAITANI

gangster in business but a loving father for his princess. He’s prone to missing a school play or small holiday but makes it up with gifts and bringing over his daughter’s favorite uncle ran.

as a ex husband he doesn’t step over the line, he knows your boundary. He doesn’t have an issue with you dating other men, even when you tell him you’ve met someone new he congratulates you.

“good for you, just make sure he ain’t no problem and I don’t got a problem.” you brushed it off as a half joke but he was very serious.

He uses the excuse of taking precautions for his daughters since he didn’t just want any type of man around her but he was also just curious what type of man you were dating so he hired a private investigator for this man.

when talking about it with sanzu and ran it’s laughable to the both of them.

“Stalking? Didn’t think this old flame you had for your ex wife was this bad.” sanzu says teasingly with a laugh at the end smacking rindou on the shoulder.

rindou scoffed.“this is just for precautions, I don’t want just some jackass around rika.”

“just sounds like you’re studying him, trying to see what you need to apply huh to get her back huh?” that gets sanzu a slap to the back of the head and a chuckle from ran.

MITSUYA TAKASHI

a amazing father to his baby girl, never misses a birthday, holiday. He’s always creating things for her instead of you spending money like a cozy sweater for winter and a purple stuffed bunny with button eyes for her to snuggle when he’s not there.

He knows his place as a ex husband well, he keeps his love for you at distant but still it shows with his actions. He knows how independent you are but still he likes to help you out.

“mitsuya I’m good I promise. I’m a big girl, a cold ain’t ever stop me from getting anywhere.” you say it with a runny red nose making him do a small smile at how cute you looked with it.

That explanation didn’t stop him from walking you back into your house with him following. Originally he came to check on you since the weather forecast predicted it would be a cold windy week, he thanked his conscience for checking up so now he could stop a sick you from going to work.

“nonsense, what kinda man would I be to just let you out in the cold with a runny nose huh?” he was already looking around on your living room couch for a cover to warm you up in.

“just stay there, can’t just let the mother of my kid just be sick.” a half joke from him while he went to look for tea in your cabinet.

[ronwestbreeze]

take a bow

pairing: geto suguru x non-sorcerer!reader warnings: gore and maybe a little bit of angst summary: you smell like coffee...and geto can't seem to shake it. word count: 6.7k author's note: hiiii ;) as you can tell there will be about five parts to this mini series. nothing more and nothing less. i'm kind of excited for this and i've been really wanting to write for my husband so, i hope ya'll enjoy it! and i will not be doing a taglist for this one. sorry guys!

part 2 | read on AO3

There was a cute customer today.

And you were also sure you hadn’t seen him around before. Then again, you moved to this village two weeks ago, and you weren’t too familiar with the regulars yet. Perhaps he was just one you hadn’t seen until now.

You leaned over the front counter a bit, trying to get a better look at him as he moved down one of the aisles to the far left of the store.

He wore what looked like a school uniform, his dark hair tied up with a few strands framing one side of his face. Even though he was further away from you, you could see he was on the younger side, maybe around your age. Possibly older.

You hadn’t met many boys in your life—attractive ones especially—mostly because you were sheltered for half of your childhood and didn’t go outside. So when you did happen to stumble upon a few of them, you were left wondering what to do or say around them. They were almost alien to you.

It was the same with people in general your age. While you weren’t bad at socializing, you still adapted the best way you knew how.

“You’re being creepy.” Your co-worker, Tohru, said passively while scrolling through her phone. A very busy activity she had been at for an hour now.

“I’m not.” You cleared your throat, quickly looking away from the otherwise oblivious customer. “But you can’t deny that he’s pretty cute.”

Tohru drew her eyes from her phone and glanced toward the newcomer who was now in the snack section. Now it was her turn to lean over the counter, a look of interest inching onto her usual bored mask.

“Damn.”

“Told ya.”

“He’s definitely new. No guy that fine lives in a boring ass town like this.”

You hummed, “I wouldn’t exactly call this town boring—but you’ve been here longer than me so I suppose you have the better judgment over that.” Carefully, you snuck another peek at the customer who was studying the back of a bag of chips. “And if he’s that fine, no doubt someone already bagged him.”

“Ugh,” Tohru grumbled with a defeated expression on her face, “you’re probably right. The hotter ones are always taken.”

“Or they end up being a douchebag.” You added with a snort as you organized the stack of gums on the counter.

“Amen to that.”

“Newbie!”

You jumped with a yelp at the loud voice filling the otherwise quiet store. Glancing over your shoulder, you found your manager, a very old and impatient man, stomping over with a toothpick dangling from his mouth, “Are you pullin’ one on me, kid?!”

After getting over your short shock, you furrow your brows, “Um, pulling what, sir?”

“Where the hell is the leftover food from last week?! I told you to save it in the back storage!”

You gave a sheepish smile and rubbed the back of your neck, “Oh yeah, some of it went bad so I had to throw it out.”

“We don’t even do anything with them anyway,” Tohru grumbled under her breath which you tried not to acknowledge.

He eats all the leftovers. Despite his shop advertisement promising to send any leftover food to orphanages and charities.

“Look, newbie, I’ve been real lenient because you’re new. And I get it, you're in a tough spot but I ain’t pityin’ you no more! I have no problem tossin’ you the curb, you hear me?”

Your face burned in embarrassment, especially when his loud ass voice carried throughout the store. No doubt the hot guy heard every word by now. “Yessir.”

The old man huffed, “Good. Now stop messin’ around and help the damn customer! Poor boy’s been waiting for you to notice him!”

God, please don’t be him. Please let it be another boy who's been waiting for a while.

You chanced a glance over your shoulder, only to shrivel up when you found the hot customer standing at the counter, watching your interaction with a small absent frown.

Fuck.

“Someone’s gonna be on dishes tonight.” Tohru sang with a snicker as she disappeared in the back along with your manager.

With your face on fire, you went toward the cash register. You cleared your throat and gestured to the pack of cigarettes and the bag of chips, “Will that be all for you today?”

He seemed to have been lost in thought as it took a beat for him to reply, “Sorry, yes, that’s it.”

You nodded, trying not to look him in the eyes. God, even his voice was attractive.

After giving him the price, you began bagging his items while he fished into his pockets to grab his wallet.

You still had yet to look at him.

The last thing you wanted was to get chewed out by your bum boss in front of a guy that you’d possibly never see again. Before you had been dying to have a quick conversation with him, just to keep looking at him for a little longer. Now all you wanted to do was get him out of the store as soon as possible and hide away in a hole, never to be found again.

“Is he always like that?”

You placed his cigarettes in the bag before you realized he was talking to you. Which only made your cheeks even hotter.

“Uh, yeah, he’s usually getting high in the back, or napping.” You shrugged, glancing up at him every now and then, only to find him directly staring at you. Fuck, you were awful at this. “Only ever out front when the shop closes. He’s always the first out the door before anyone else.”

“Mmm,” By then you looked up to find him not too happy about that piece of information. “And he gives you a hard time to add onto that. Don’t you want to quit?”

At that, you smile, “It would be easy, wouldn’t it? I don’t know if you already heard—probably the whole block had heard him—but I’m not really in the best situation to be quitting a job just cuz I hate my bum ass boss.”

This time he looked sheepish, “Yeah, I wanted to pretend that I didn’t hear him, but I guess there’s no point in that. Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You chuckled before handing him his bag. “It’s life, you know? I just have to brave it out until I have a stable income of money. Then maybe I can consider the option of kicking myself to the curb from this trash can of a place.”

The male stared at you curiously, the disinterest that he had worn before was now long gone. He searched your face—for what, you didn’t know.

And then he smiled, “You seem to have it all figured out.”

It was infectious, his smile. Even though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I wouldn’t say all that.” You returned the smile, anyway, hoping it appeared real enough for the both of you. “But I think it’s going to work out for me in the long run. That I can say.”

The male chuckled as he walked toward the store entrance, “I wish you luck then.”

He waved with another smile which took you off guard a bit. You didn’t have much of a chance to respond back to his wave, nor tell him to enjoy his time in town before he was already long gone.

It was now just you and your blushing face.

The back door opened, “Aw, you didn’t even get his number, did you?”

You glanced over your shoulder to find Tohru pouting at you. You grinned sheepishly, “Oops, guess I didn’t.”

“Tsk, tsk,” Tohru sighed, “You really need to learn how to flirt.”

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. Regulars came and went. Your manager was passed out in the back. Tohru’s shift ended sometime before you and booked it out the front door before you had the chance to say goodbye.

Essentially, you had the shop all to yourself. And it was unfortunately horribly boring.

Later in the day is when fewer and fewer customers start coming in. Apparently, many of the people in the village were too cautious about going out once the sun started setting. There were a few rumors here and there, about mysterious deaths all over the village. You weren’t exactly sure how much truth there was to those rumors, all you could do was clock in and clock out and go straight home.

Just because you doubted the stories didn’t mean you weren’t going to be stupid.

You wondered if that hot guy knew about the rumors. It probably would’ve been neighborly to try and warn him.

The sky was filled with oranges and purples as the sun was slinking behind one of the mountains. The evening glow made the shop look almost ominous, especially with the indoor lights off.

You should probably turn those on by now. They would’ve been on throughout the whole day like regular shops but your boss was such a cheap stake with the light bill you had to keep it off until evening fell and you practically couldn’t see in the dark.

Just as you stepped away to turn the shop lights on, the bell above the door rang. You glanced toward the clock and grinned.

You moved back to the front counter and grinned at the familiar newcomers. Two young girls, who looked no older than five, stood at the entrance. “Right on time! Looks like someone’s excited for today’s batch.”

The brown-haired girl—you knew as Mimiko—with the stuffed doll approached the counter first. Standing on her tippy toes enough for her chin to rest on top of the counter, “Do you have any more rice balls?”

“You bet.” You gestured toward the two chairs next to the counter. “Why don’t you guys take a seat over there and I’ll go get the food. It’s a real treat this time.”

“Okay.” Mimiko nodded before grabbing her sister’s hand to drag her over toward the chairs.

“Thank you!” The blonde-haired, Nanako, called.

You sent her an adoring smile, “Of course, hon!”

You moved to the back, passing your knocked-out manager, as you grabbed the box of food in your locker and brought it back to the front counter. Mimiko and Nanako got up from their chairs and bounced over to get a better look, “I actually got these rice balls from this place in the city during the weekend. It’s way better than the crap here.”

“Really?” Nanako looked into the box, her eyes widening, “Wow! Those look really good!”

“Anything for my best customers.” You winked and allowed them to grab what they wanted from the box.

Both girls giggled as they grabbed rice balls and ramen from the box. You smiled and patted both their heads before allowing them to sit back down in the chairs and eat.

You hadn’t known the twins for very long. Actually, you met them on your first day at the store two weeks ago. They had been attempting to steal a few snacks when you discovered them. You couldn’t shake the way they were looking at you when you found them. Scared yet desperate for some food. Mimiko had been clutching her stuffed doll tightly in her hands as if she were about to tear its head off at that moment.

They were expecting you to berate them and kick them out of the store. Maybe your manager or Tohru would’ve done that, but you just couldn’t find it in you to turn them away. They were obviously hungry, so what else could you do but feed them?

So you took the leftover food from the storage and gave it to them. They were pretty tight-lipped about their home situation so you didn’t push. But it was pretty clear that they didn’t have a lot to eat, wherever they lived.

“Let’s make a deal.” You had said to them that day. “You guys come back at around five o’clock every day and I will feed you some stuff we don’t need. Hell, I’ll probably even cook and bring it over every now and then. As long as the two of you eat.”

They looked hesitant. The brown-haired girl—she told you her name was Mimiko—spoke first, “Will you really do that for us?”

You smiled softly at her, “Of course. You guys are hungry, right? Why wouldn’t I want to feed you?”

Her twin, Nanako spoke next, eyes cast down, “Most of the people here are scared of us. Because we’re different. So they ignore us whenever we do ask for food.”

You frowned, your heart breaking at the time. Of course, you had some questions about why a bunch of adults would turn a blind eye to two little girls who looked no older than five. You seethed at the thought that the only one willing to help them was a barely surviving sixteen-year-old, who couldn’t even make minimum wage.

Instead of crying for them—which you were definitely close to doing—you patted their heads, “Well, I’m not scared of you. And I don’t care if you’re different. Come back tomorrow and there will be food for you guys. Okay?”

The two girls were stunned at your kindness like it was foreign to them. But they both nodded, hints of a smile making its way to their lips. “Okay!”

“But you also have to promise not to steal anymore so you don’t get in trouble.” Mimiko pouted but you attempted a stern look. “I’m serious, girls. And we’re going to pinky promise on it.”

You held out your pinky. Reluctantly, the two girls took it. Giggling when they fought to cover your own pinky with their little ones.

After your pinky promise, Nanako’s nose scrunched, “You smell like coffee.”

You laughed and cleaned up the trash from their meal, “I get that a lot.”

And since then, the twins have kept coming back every day, after five o’clock. Sometimes you wonder where they went before that. Did they go to school? Did they have any parents taking care of them? Did they even have a home?

You supposed none of that was any of your business in the end. But sometimes you couldn’t help but worry.

If you had a big enough space that wasn’t one small box, then you’d take the girls home with you in a heartbeat.

Once Mimiko was finished with her rice ball, she walked over to you as you were counting through the cash in the register from today’s productivity. “Can I help?”

“Sure,” You hummed trying to find something for her to do. “Do you think you could stack those new packets of gum for me and place them in this small box?” You handed the little box which she took instantly. “Go get your sister to help if she wants, okay?”

Mimiko nodded and took the gum packets and the box back to her sister who was just finishing up her rice ball. You made a mental note to buy some coloring books for them in case they got bored. Sometimes they like to stay a little bit longer after they finish eating, to keep you company. And you enjoyed their presence. It was better than staring at the ceiling for hours on end, waiting for a customer to enter even though you knew they wouldn’t come. And then got done with their little task quite fast. Yeah, you definitely need to get those coloring books.

Thankfully, just in time as you heard your manager shift in the back, the two girls made their leave. Waving goodbye to you with the promise of returning tomorrow.

Sometime later your manager came from the back and left the shop, grumbling about you closing up.

And another hour after that, you leave the shop. Hoping to see the twins again. And maybe—even though it was probably impossible—you hoped to see that hot customer again.

It was delusional, you knew this.

But it didn’t hurt to hope.

“Ugh, why are you eating that shit?” Tohru made a look of disgust at your bag of coffee beans. “Now the whole place is gonna smell.”

That was what you were greeted with upon entering the shop the next morning, “Good morning to you too, Ru. And don’t you think it’s a lot better than cigarettes and booze?”

Surprisingly, it was pretty crowded which was a first for you ever since you started working at the shop. Of course, it was a bunch of older people—middle-aged to elderly—but it was busy, nonetheless.

You went around the counter as an older woman locked Tohru into a conversation, “Did you hear what happened to that little boy? Oh, what an awful thing, I can only imagine what his parents must be feeling right now.”

“It’s that demon terrorizing our home again.” An elderly woman standing in line shivered

A man huffed, “I tell you exactly what’s causing all of this. Those no good—”

You didn’t bother to stay and hear the rest as you made your way to the back to throw your bag into one of the lockers. It was the same old thing. A horrible incident happens at night—a few people die—and people are going on and on about the town being haunted. Something about some demon going on a killing spree in the dead of night. To be honest, you thought it was some sick weirdo having the time of his life and the people haven’t realized it yet.

“Gotta buy some new locks.” You mumbled to yourself as you shrugged off your jacket.

“How was your night?” You glanced over your shoulder to find your manager sitting in the office, the door wide open as he smoked.

“Good, sir!” You offered a friendly smile as you closed your locker. “My mattress was uncomfortable but all in all, I can’t necessarily complain! And what about you, sir? How was your night?”

He grunted but never gave a response, which wasn’t unusual. He never offered to talk about himself, even on his good days.

You nodded, took your bag of coffee beans, and joined Tohru back at the front.

“—This is the fifth incident this week! When will enough be enough?!” This was an older man scowling this time. Next to him was a woman—whom you had to guess was his wife—trying to push him out of the shop as he began his rant. “We need to hunt those monsters down! How many more have to die?!”

You watched the couple leave with a small frown, “Wow, it’s never been this bad before.”

Tohru sighed tiredly, “Yeah, they’re pretty fired up this time around. I wonder how much of this is gonna mess with my precious sleep schedule.”

You hummed, noticing the usual dark bags under her eyes.

“Hi.”

A bag of chips was placed on the counter. Both you and Tohru looked up to find the hot customer from yesterday standing at the counter with a friendly smile sent your way.

Your face both burned with being taken off guard and the fact that he was addressing you directly, “Oh—Hi! Welcome back!” Quickly, you manned the second register while Tohru sent you a side glare. You returned his smile, “To be honest, I didn’t think you were still here.”

“Really?” He raised a brow as you checked his item out. “How come?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed but the town’s kind of haunted.” You chuckled as you stuffed his chips into a grocery bag, giving him a sheepish smile, “Scares the tourists away. I should’ve probably warned you about it yesterday, sorry about that.”

He chuckled as you handed him his bag. This time he wasn’t wearing the black top he had on yesterday. The baggy pants were the same, just this time around he wore a white button-up. “Fortunately, I’m not afraid of many scary stories, but I appreciate the warning.”

“How brave of you.” You chuckled, ignoring the subtle glances Tohru kept sending you while attending to her own customer. “I can’t necessarily say the same for myself.”

“Don’t you live here?” His eyes twinkled as he tilted his head, “I’d say you’re a lot braver than me, you know. Tonight’s my last night here.”

You shook your head, ignoring how your chest fell slightly in disappointment at the new piece of information, “Then many would say you’re one of the lucky ones.”

“Oh yeah?” He hummed, his eyes never wavering from yours. Wow, he really loved making eye contact. You couldn’t figure out if that made him even hotter or a bit intimidating. And he was so nonchalant about it too, hand in pocket, stance somewhat relaxed. “What would you say? You count yourself unlucky then?”

The bell above the door rang, “Welcome in!” You called the new customer before replying to him. “Well, to be honest with you, I feel like I’m the luckiest girl alive. It’s not so bad here, you know, despite the obvious flaws of the shop and this town. I’m just grateful to at least have a job and a roof over my head. It’s not perfect but it’s everything I need right now.”

He was observing you again. Tohru was far too distracted with the other customers to notice and make fun of your bashful facial expressions. Or how you were practically malfunctioning on the spot from the way he kept looking at you.

“You know,” He leaned on the counter with a smile turning into somewhat of a smirk, “I’ve never met someone as optimistic as you. I almost think you’re unreal.”

“Don’t we all,” Tohru commented as she made her way to the back. “Your turn to man the front counter, newbie. The last customer nearly made me pop a vein.”

“Sure thing, Ru!” You called, trying to ignore how hot your face was at the moment.

Of course, the hot customer saw this and gave a soft laugh, “I didn’t mean to sound like I’m making fun of you, I promise. It’s endearing. You wouldn’t have a hard time finding someone to marry, that’s for sure.”

Steam was probably coming out of your ears at this point.

“I-I-uh, thanks?” You searched the store to try and distract yourself and prevent further embarrassment. Only when you didn’t find anything, you smile sheepishly, “I-uh, I think it’s a little too soon to be thinking about marriage—uh but thanks for the compliment?”

You watched as his nose twitched, raising a brow, “You smell like coffee. Like a lot.”

“Yeah,” You gulped with a nervous smile, “I get that a lot.”

Another laugh left his lips. He was far too amused now. Meanie. “I’ll see you around.”

With that, he left the store. The bell rang in his wake. You watched him go through the window. He waved to you as he passed. And you waved back.

Once he was finally out of your sight and you out of his, you groaned and dropped your head onto the counter, “I’m such a loser.”

The back door opened and Tohru poked her head out, shaking her head disapprovingly, “Yeah, you can’t handle all that man.”

“Shut up, Ru.”

You were the exception, not the rule, Geto Suguru realized a block away from the store.

He’d never really met anyone like you. It was so rare. Pure. So unheard of in this world.

But it didn’t change how the world was. A bright light like that would be snuffed, almost instantly. You would become exhausted at some point, smiling so genuinely like that.

It would make your fall much harder. Much, much worse.

More curses wreaking havoc through villages. More curses to swallow down, leaving the bitter taste of vomit in his wake.

You, Geto decided, were just like everyone else in the end.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

He wondered if he would ever stop hearing them clap.

Around the late afternoon, your manager sent you out to pick up a delivery of chips that apparently couldn’t make it. Something about a mix-up with the trucks—you weren’t entirely clear on the details. But your boss was pissed about it and you were left with driving to the city to retrieve the box of chips. The only thing you didn’t like about it was the fact that the drive to the city took almost two hours.

You just hoped you’d make it back in time to meet up with the twins.

So half your day was spent rushing through the city, trying to track down that missing shipment of chips, bringing it back to your car which was almost towed because you happened to park in the wrong place, and then driving back to the village while the sun was beginning to set.

The drive back wasn’t as bad as the drive to the city. But you arrived back at the shop twenty minutes past five. Which wasn’t too bad but you were still late, nonetheless.

“Sorry, I’m late!” You called as you entered the store from the back with the box still in your hands. “I got coloring books this time, hope you guys like to draw!” You brought the box to the front, expecting to find the twins.

Only you stop and find Tohru and your manager there instead. Tohru stared at you in confusion, “Who are you talking to?”

You blushed in embarrassment, “Um, sorry, I thought you were…” Quickly, your mind raced. “Did you guys happen to see two girls walk in at around five—that’s what the coloring books were for, yeah, yeah, that makes sense.”

“Two girls?” Tohru frowned, appearing even more confused. “Did you hit your head or something?”

Just as you were about to quickly explain what you meant, your manager blew out another puff of smoke, “She means those unlucky twins.” At this, you furrowed your brows, opening your mouth to ask what he meant, only for him to continue as if you had already asked the question. “Those two have been poisoning our town ever since they killed their parents. It’s about time they get what they deserve.”

Your eyes widened, heart, falling to your feet, “W-What does…what happened to them? What do you mean get what they deserve?”

“Oh yeah,” Tohru said while hoisting herself up to sit on the counter, “now that you mention it, there were two girls that came in here. They didn’t stay for long, some of the villagers barged in and took them. I think they mentioned taking her to the old temple or something like that, I don’t know, I had a headache and they were all being annoying. They went on about them being the cause of all the deaths happening in town—whatever that meant—”

The box fell from your hands onto the floor, spilling the bag of chips. Your heart thundered with panic and disbelief, “You…You just let them take them?” Surprisingly, your voice wasn’t quivering like the rest of your body. Instead, it was full and firm with distraught. “They didn’t even do anything! They’re children! They’re—oh my god, they’re just babies!”

Tohru rolled her eyes as if you were the one being dramatic and unreasonable, “Dude, relax, they’re probably not going to do anything that bad to them. Maybe send them off to another village. Look, who cares? At least there won’t be any more deaths—hey, where are you going?”

You ignored her, threw off your work apron, and jumped over the counter. “This isn’t right! None of this is fucking right!”

“Hey, you still need to clean your mess up—hey!” Tohru’s voice became further and further away as you bolted out of the shop and ran through the street, heading further into the village.

Tohru had mentioned something about an old temple. You quickly searched your mind until you remembered there was a temple on one of the hills. You always passed it whenever you went jogging on your days off. Yes, you knew exactly where they were.

Running wouldn’t get you there fast enough, you soon realized. So you thought quickly. In front of a flower shop, you spotted a bicycle sitting at the front. Quietly apologizing to whomever this belonged to, you took the bike, got on, and pedaled your way up the hill.

In your haste, the world was silent to you.

All you could think about was those poor girls. All you were worried about was saving them before the townsfolk did something that no one could possibly come back from.

The world was silent to you.

You didn’t see the people running by in terror, even when you nearly ran into an older man who had dashed out into the street in a fit of panic. You didn’t see the smoke in the part of the village you biked through. You didn’t see the blue flames consuming the houses and the people around you until there was nothing but burnt ash left.

This chaos was nothing but white noise.

The world was silent to you.

You ignored the large shape flying over you, spewing the blue flames onto another part of the village.

All you cared about were those girls. Mimiko and Nanako.

You should’ve brought them back to your home. You should’ve taken them in. You should’ve pressed for more information about them. You should’ve known that they didn’t have anyone taking care of them.

You should’ve known. You should’ve done more.

“My god,” You gasped, fear tearing at your heart as the temple finally came into view. “have I failed them?” There were no flames consuming the temple. Strangely enough, it was the only place that wasn’t on fire.

When you were close enough, you jumped off the bike and dashed for the entrance. You slammed into the double doors, attempting to pull it open. Only they were locked and wouldn’t budge.

You backed up, not willing to give up. Not willing to let those two die for this fucked up town. And with all your might, you kicked the doors open, causing them to slam against the walls inside the temple.

“Mimiko! Nanako!” You called as you entered, searching around for the two girls.

Smoke filled your nose and caused you to cough just as small voices responded back to you. Calling your name with childlike desperation. It sounded like it was coming from above you. Like there was a second floor.

The stairs were on your right. You dashed for them, skipping two steps at a time until you made it to the second floor. Until you made it into the first room you spotted. Until you found them both locked in a cage together. Beaten and bruised and scared out of their minds. Until you found the two bodies lying in a puddle of scarlet right in front of the cage.

You didn’t rush toward the cage right away. Struck frozen at the sight of the blood. At the sight of the two bodies. It made the once quiet world around suddenly become loud.

There were screams outside of the temple. There was smoke, so much smoke.

Then there was the blood.

Blood.

Blood.

Blood.

There was a small call of your name, snapping you out of your frozen shock. The two girls were pressed against the cages, Nanako reaching through the bars for you…

“I’m coming, it’s okay.” You said, finally snapping out of your shock before rushing over toward the cage. You ignored how your shoes were stained with scarlet as you walked through the puddle.

You tried at the cage for a bit until you roughly yanked it open, breaking the lock that kept it closed. Both girls ran out of the cage and hugged your waist, nearly knocking you over. Their sniffles were muffled in your sweater as you ran your hand through their hair in an attempt to comfort them.

“It’s okay, I’m gonna get you out of here.” You promised while glancing over your shoulder at the bodies. “Nanako. Mimiko. What happened to them?”

Mimiko buried her face further into your waist while Nanako spoke, “Everyone thought we were the ones behind the deaths so they took us and tried to make the man kill us. But he didn’t, he saved us!”

You nodded as you both listened and led them out of the horrific room. The three of you went down the steps. Just from looking through the wide open doorway of the temple, you saw the flames hitting the village had gotten so much worse. What had caused this, you had no clue, nor did you have time to stop and wonder where it all had come from.

Mimiko tightened her hold on your hand, forcing you to stop, dozens of steps away from the front door, “The man told us to stay put and that he would take us away from here.”

On your right, Nanako nodded, “He said the curses won’t hurt us and that we’re special.”

You let go of their hands and turned to face them, your back to the entrance. Carefully you knelt down in front of them, “Okay, slow down. Before I even think about touching the curses part, I just need to know what man are you guys talking about. There wasn’t a third body in that room.”

“They mean me.”

At the sudden voice, you spun around to find standing at the entrance a male. A familiar one at that.

The same male who had bought chips from your store. The same male who had that gentle smile on his face—similar to the one he wore now but colder. The same male who had laughed at your fumbling and embarrassment just a few hours earlier.

“You.” Was the whisper that fell from your lips.

He stepped forward and instinctively pushed the girls behind you protectively. His brows raised at this and he chuckled.

“Mimiko. Nanako.” His voice was slow, silky, and calculated. “It’s time to go. Those people won’t hurt you anymore. Just as I promised.”

You watched him warily but the girls after a beat started toward him, surprising you. Mimiko was the one who stopped while Nanako went to the male’s side and grabbed his hand. She looked at you and then the male. She then grabbed your hand and tried tugging you forward, “Can’t she come with us?”

Something flickered across his face and instantly disappeared in the next second as he smiled, “Why don’t you two wait for me while I talk to the nice lady?”

You didn’t let go of her hand right away, “Mimiko.”

She looked at you and smiled reassuringly despite one of her eyes being swollen shut, “It’s okay. He’s a nice man. He saved us, remember?”

With that, she followed her sister out of the temple. The male didn’t move from the doorway. The blue flames were menacing in the night, his shadow tall. The heat was just as overwhelming as the smoke.

“Who the hell are you?” You finally muttered.

He started walking toward in slow leisurely steps, “A sorcerer.”

Instinctively, you wanted to back away as he got closer. But you stood firm, “And you were the one that killed those two people upstairs?”

“Yes.” He was now in front of you with very little space left between the two of you. The obvious question was at the tip of your tongue but you never voiced it. Yet he replied anyway, “I’ve decided it’s time I’ve stopped serving non-sorcerers. All they’ve done is create more problems for people like me. I figured I cut the problem down from the roots. For all of us.”

There was no smile on his face now. No traces of the friendly face, of the sheepish boy you met back at the shop. Just someone else entirely.

He leaned forward, staring at you with that same look he had back at the shop. Like he was trying to see right through you. Accusatory. Blame.

“What good are you to me?”

You glared now, clenching your hands into tight fists, “It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind. I don’t see a point in proving a damn thing to you.”

He stared at you for a moment longer and then smirked. “Too bad you’re human.” He turned and walked back to the entrance. “I would’ve liked you a lot. I do like you a lot. But if my new world is going to be without non-sorcerers…”

The curse flew past Geto and into the temple. It was large enough to cause irreparable damage to the temple. It was deadly enough to crush any target in sight. Even your screams were swallowed whole in seconds. That’s how efficient it was. That’s how easy it all became.

Geto didn’t look back at your body. Nor did he watch you get killed by his curse. Instead, he continued out of the temple with a few more curses following him at his tail.

“There are no exceptions.” He muttered to himself.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

He wondered if he would ever forget that coffee smell.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Hours later, once the flames had long settled, you sat up in the rubble. Some of the most severe wounds were nearly done healing. But the only pain you felt was the tight twists in your stomach.

You were starving.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Your sweater had been burned off and your skirt was ripped as you dragged yourself away from the ruins of the temple. Saliva dripping from your mouth that you tried to ignore.

For a while, you kept going. Pushing yourself through what used to be a lively village. But now it was filled with ruins and dead bodies alike.

You kept your composure thought. Especially when you pass fallen body parts, scattered along the streets.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Eventually, you made it to the store, just on the outskirts of the village. The same one you worked at. The one place that had your coffee beans.

The bell above your head rang as you lugged your way over to the aisle where you knew the coffee beans were. Ignoring the calls of your name—which was just background noise to you.

You were hungry. Really, really hungry.

Just as you found the coffee beans, you grabbed one of the bags and tore it open.

“You know you’ve been fired, right?”

For some reason, your hand never reached into the bag to grab a mouthful of beans and tossed it in your mouth. Instead, you just stared down into it, saliva dripping from your mouth as Tohru continued her taunt.

“Boss’ pretty pissed with you taking off like that. And now I’ve gotta miss my concert because of you.” In the corner of your eye, she sneered, “I hope it was all worth it.”

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

“Risking your job for a bunch of girls you don’t even know. What did you even try to do?”

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

“Hmm, judging how quiet everything is, my guess is they probably finished the job.” Tohru sighed and leaned against the shelf, “Well, at least I can get better sleep.”

The bag of coffee beans fell from your grasp and spilled onto the floor.

Tohru gasped, looking down at the mess, “Hey! You fucking idiot! How many more messes are you going to leave for me to clean?! Ugh, you’re such a brat—hey, what the hell is wrong with your eyes?”

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Fuck it.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

The next morning, the shopkeeper was found dead in his office. Half of his face was gone, along with a gaping hole in his chest, where his heart should’ve been.

The girl was behind the front counter. Missing a leg, her organs spilling out of her abdomen. Blood everywhere.

It was a horrid sight.

At least, that’s what you heard.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

You wiped the blood from your mouth.

“I’m done lying to myself.” You mumbled. A giggle left your lips. “What the hell is the point?”

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

Applause.

With that, you took your final bow.

“Things will be different this time.”

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄

summary: after a quick stop by mostro lounge, you decide you can't leave octavinelle's students to their dreadful costume fate

pairing: jade leech x fashion savvy! reader

warnings: fluff/crack, a little suggestive at the end; just a small drabble to celebrate me getting jade's halloween ssr that appeared in my drafts before i knew what's going on

twisted wonderland masterlist

“And now, pray tell, what is this supposed to be?”

“We’re mummies,” Floyd eagerly grinned back at you when you entered Mostro Lounge. “Pretty neat, ain’t it, shrimpy?”

“I guessed as much from the form you submitted to the Halloween management committee.” You surveyed the warzone of torn white fabric the lounge had become and then zeroed in on the octotrio’s ‘costumes’, wondering in which world a mummy looked like a plucked chicken. “My actual question was, why do you look like toddlers who rolled around in a bunch of toilet paper?”

“Come again?” Azul tried to hide his shocked expression behind his hand as he adjusted his wired glasses.

“You’re well aware that mummies have a body shape too, right?” Walking up to Jade, you started inspecting the damage and what part of this fiasco was still savable, bunching fabric between your fingers and pulling at white clothing shreds. “Under different circumstances I’d be rather impressed that you managed to erase someone’s figure altogether but, with the festival in mind, I can’t let this pass. I can’t believe you put my boyfriend in this, Azul.”

“It’s truly tragic, pearl, isn’t it?” Jade played along, sighing tiredly as he raised one hand to cup your cheek. When your face was pressed into his chest, his palm cradling the back of your head, he threw a wicked grin Azul’s way. “To think that after all these years of knowing and supporting each other, you’d make us wear this when we’re expecting visitors from far and wide… I don’t want to linger on the thought.”

“Oh please, would you both quit being so dramatic?” Octavinelle’s housewarden rolled his eyes and massaged his temple before his shoulders sacked. “Alright fine, maybe the costumes weren’t our best work yet. Let’s hear your proposal then, Prefect.”

You hummed in contemplation as you studied the outfits again. “We can keep the striped shirts and the pants but we need decidedly more belts, a whole lot of them. And, if you know what’s good for you, then you'd better have untangled yourselves from the toilet paper looking crap by the time I’m back.”

“Wait, where are you going?” Azul asked as you were already halfway out of the dorm.

“I’m going to save Mostro Lounge!”

Upon your return, you were delighted to see the guys had followed your advice/ command and were waiting for you in only the long shirts and black trousers. When Jade saw you coming in, carrying a bunch of boxes filled with clothes and accessories, he quickly took them from you and set them down on the table next to them. 

“Thank you,” you smiled up at him, to which your boyfriend pressed a quick kiss to your temple. His brother did not hide the gagging noise he made. “Okay, let’s get to work. Halloween’s already drawing close and we’ll still have to make adjustments to the costumes for sure. 

“Here,” you said, digging through the cardboard boxes until you found the black shirts you’d been searching for. “Put these on. They should be roughly the right size.”

Turning around to let them change, you searched for the accessories you’d deemed the show-stealers. Brushing over leather, you hooked your fingers into the metal ring of a harness to hold it up. You really owed Pomefiore for this one.

“Oya, shrimpy, watcha have there?” Floyd’s amused lilt told you that he was pretty aware of what exactly it was. “You wanna catch yourself a fish? Or an eel, hmm?”

“I have to say, it is a pretty daring approach to a Halloween school costume,” Jade chimed in, one hand resting on his chin in contemplation but nonetheless smiling. “Not that I am opposed to it, of course.”

“Prefect, is this really necessary?” Azul shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking at you but not quite into your eyes. “I mean I understand refining our apparel but this…”

“Azul, I’m making you marketable right now,” you said earnestly and with that, his azure eyes finally snapped to you. “Do you know how much potential profit is tied to this one little accessory? C’mon, try it on. You can still decide not to wear it afterwards. For now, just go with the flow.”

One by one, you helped them secure the straps around their torso, having Jade hold Floyd still enough to get it on him. You could see Azul fidgeting from the corner of your eye as you put the finishing touches on Jade’s harness, slipping two fingers underneath the straps to make sure it wasn’t too tight.

“Okay, let’s get the shirts back on, add some more belts, cut up the fabric and get this show on the road. I can basically see people banging down your doors already. I hope you can seat that many guests.” The last sentences were more so directed at Azul, in an effort for him to just let you do your thing. “I don’t have any sort of hat prepared because I frankly didn’t expect to save a dorm’s costume today but I’ll see what I can do.”

“My my, that does pose the question of where we’d be without you,” Jade chuckled affectionately. 

“Out of business on Halloween, apparently,” you sighed theatrically. “Well then, chop chop guys, I want to see the entire thing.”

After they all pulled their striped shirts back on, you added more belts around their hips and waist to give the outfit more shape but didn’t tug the shirts in to mimic a mummy’s peeled off bandages. All in all, it wasn’t the most elaborate costume but it did the trick and if you could put some finishing touches on it throughout the week, you were confident the lounge would attract a fair share of customers. 

“Alright, that’s it. You can go around and do some work or whatever just to get a feel for the clothes. Remember, you’ll have to wear them for the entirety of the festival, so I want to remove anything that might be uncomfortable beforehand. And Floyd, don’t drag those white sleeves through the dirt, got it? They should stay the colour they are now.” You sent the eel a warning glare and he held his hand up in defence, although the grin he didn’t bother to hide before he vanished to the Seven know where wasn’t reassuring. 

Azul had apparently already slinked back into his office, leaving you standing alone in the lounge with your boyfriend, giving you ample time to admire your work again. Seeing Jade in something like this was certainly something you’d been very curious about, with good right as you learnt now; the black shirt highlighting his muscle and the leather holding your attention were leading your thoughts down a very different direction. Something he must have caught on to somehow.

“Do you like what you see, pearl?” He teased, his grin showing off his sharp teeth as he studied you with mischievous interest. Maybe it was your imagination but in the dimly lit lounge, his left eye seemed to glow. “I cannot help but wonder why you’d extend your gracious assistance to us without wanting anything in return, not that I am not grateful of course. 

“Perhaps you merely wanted to seize your chance to put me into something like this?” He gestured towards the harness secured around his chest, his attentive gaze not flitting from your face for even a second. “You know you need only ask if you have any more… fantasies of this nature.”

“I— It’s nothing like that! You make me sound like some pervert,” you protested, although, to your embarrassment, he wasn’t completely wrong. But, seriously, who would pass up a situation like this? “Anyway, don’t you have anything to do? You’re usually busy around the clock.”

“Oh, I have something very important to do,” he grinned down at you, taking a step closer to you, to the point you had to take one back, until he could crowd you against the bar. Now that he had you right where he wanted you, his hands smoothed down the sides of your body until he could place his hands on the back of your thighs to effortlessly lift you onto the counter. It happened so fast, you let out a surprised yelp and braced yourself against his chest, to which he merely chuckled. 

“And what would that work entail?” You questioned as you ran your fingers along the straps of the harness spanning his broad chest. Looking up you saw his attention already on you.

“Under normal circumstances it would require me to get out of these clothes. But, per your request, that is currently not possible.” Leaning into your personal space, his lips brushed over the delicate skin of your pulse point, his breath fanning over the base of your neck as he lowered his voice to a whispered husk. “I am fairly certain though, the same restrictions do not apply for your clothes, my precious pearl. I can definitely work with that.”

© the-travelling-witch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

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[its-time-to-write]

i think we could do it if we tried

So I misread a prompt, and didn’t realize until halfway through the fic. This was the result and it ended up being weirdly personal? If you hate it or think it’s unrealistic, I know, it’s just wishful thinking, ok?😭

i think we could do it if we tried

You’re sure Jamie’s expression will be burned into your mind forever. After all, you’re the one who put it there. 

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” you say, tears streaming down your face, “I’m the one who’s breaking up with you.”

Jamie just laughs wetly. “Not your fault, though, is it?”

That just makes you cry harder. 

You and Jamie had been friends for a long time, and he’d been in love with you forever. You didn’t return the feeling until you turned eighteen. It was on your birthday, actually. He had insisted on wearing a birthday hat all day, despite that fact that he was at training and you were at home, so you didn’t see each other until the end of the day. Something about seeing the sparkly cone on his head did something to your heart, and there it was; you loved him. 

You suppose the love was always there, lying dormant, but now it had arisen. It took you a week to muster up the courage to tell him, but you did and now it felt like the world made sense. 

Now, a month later, you’re breaking up with him. 

Jamie had been playing football for a while now, and he was really, really good. You were beginning your studies as an undergrad and had your life mapped out until grad school. He was moving away soon and you were leaving tomorrow, but that wasn’t the reason you were breaking up. 

It’s because your parents didn’t approve. 

“I can’t make them understand,” you tell Jamie, willing yourself not to cry. “And… I know I’m eighteen, but they’re paying for university. They said they’d pay all the way through grad school, and I can’t afford it on my own.”

Jamie nods and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“God, it’s fuckin’ shitty, ain’t it?” he says. “Me ‘n you, finally figuring it out too late.”

You can only nod and sniff. Your parents told you that Jamie was a good friend, but nothing more. 

“You’re only projecting feelings onto him because you know he likes you,” your mum had said. “And besides, he plays football. Can’t support a family on that, can you?”

Any protests you made fell on deaf ears. Your parents never explicitly said they’d pull their financial support, but it was hinted. It hung in the air, poisoning the atmosphere in the house. Your mother’s displeasure saturated the building, affecting everyone inside. 

So here you are, standing in the dim light of Jamie’s mum’s porch, breaking up with him at 10pm. 

He knew it was coming, too. 

“Y’know I’d never want you to put your life on hold for me, yeah?” he’d said two days earlier. 

You just nodded.

“I’ve been thinking about quitting football,” he continued, “Get a real job, stay closer.”

You had protested vehemently. He loved football, and he was good, like really good, and how could you ask him to give it up?

So yeah, it wasn’t a total blindside. 

Still hurt, though. 

You stood there, a long time, without speaking. You were memorizing each other’s faces and the way it felt being together for the last time. 

There’s a light on in Georgie’s room, and you wonder if she’ll still love you despite the fact you broke her baby’s heart. 

Jamie finally breaks the silence. “You should go,” he says, “before your parents figure out you’re gone.”

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just reach out and squeeze his hand. He pulls you in for a hug, the tightest one you’ve ever received, and you never want to let go. But you do. 

You fight the urge to say I’ll wait for you. I’ll find you when I’m done with school. We’ll make it work. But you don’t want to give him false hope. You don’t want to hurt him more than you already have. 

So instead, you whisper “I love you, Jamie Tartt,” and force yourself to walk away. 

— 

That was six years ago. You pushed yourself through school, got out with your BA in three and a half years, and scraped through your MA in two. There were times it felt a little like hell, but you persevered. 

You’re pretty sure the worst moment was during your third year, when your roommate, a football aficionado, started talking about Man City’s hotshot new player.  

“Oh my god, he’s like, so fucking sexy. The things he does on the pitch… he’s like, revolutionized the game.”

“Hm,” you say noncommittally, lost in a textbook. 

“Yeah, heard he’s a bit of a prick though. Grew up in Manchester, and he’s about our age. D’you reckon you knew him?”

“What?” you say, finally lifting your eyes from the page. “I didn’t grow up in Manchester, just lived there when I was a teenager.”

Your roommate shrugs. “Did you know a ‘Jamie Tartt?’ Dating Keeley Jones?”

And there it was. The worst moment of your whole university career. 

You turn back to your book in order to hide your face. “Doesn’t sound familiar,” you say, and your roommate doesn’t push it. She’s too busy telling you how Jamie and Keeley are the hottest, most perfect couple she’s ever seen. 

You’re past that now. It still feels like a stabbing pain every time you hear his name or see his face on a screen, but for the most part, you’ve shut down that part of your brain. 

You might have shut it down a little too successfully. 

In the last six years, you’ve been in exactly two relationships. Both short-lived, both leaving you with a sense of apathy. 

But, your parents approved of both of them. Didn’t matter that they were shallow, self-absorbed dickheads; “He’s cute and has a good job!” your mum had said, oblivious to the fact that she was replaying the exact same pitch to you from before. 

You had felt a rush of relief when the news hit that Jamie and Keeley had broken up. You hated hearing about all his escapades, and how much he hurt her. It made your heart ache, knowing he was burying himself in his prickish attitude the same way you were burying yourself in yours. 

Well, maybe that’s too harsh. You aren’t a prick per se, you’re just… cold. Emotionless. You felt very little this days, because every time you felt the tiniest bit of anything, everything threatened to overwhelm you. 

After school, you just… kept moving. No sense in going home, you loved your family but they made you feel like you were drowning. And you couldn’t make yourself go back to Manchester. 

Georgie called you from time to time, checking up on you. Turns out she didn’t hate you. She was actually rather worried. She never, ever mentioned Jamie. 

“You can’t just stop living life, love,” she had said one time. “That’s all it is: love and loss. You just keep moving forward.”

You took her advice literally, securing a good job that allowed you to work remotely. You moved to the east side of London, West Ham, but were never at your flat longer than a week. After all, you were hot and had a good job. Why not travel? You had no strings keeping you anywhere. 

Now you’re back in West Ham for two weeks, getting ready to go to Barcelona. A friend has a timeshare that she can’t make it to, so you volunteered to go. After all, it’s better to be apathetic in Barcelona than it is in West Ham, right?

Whatever the case, you’re here for much longer than you’d like to be, but you’re going to make the best of it. You have a friend from uni who lives near you, so you’re going out tonight. She wants to go to some upscale restaurant a couple minutes from your flat with a few other girls, and you decide that you’d rather not be alone tonight.

You don’t mention that it’s your birthday. You stopped celebrating them at nineteen.

Your hair and makeup are done, you’ve put together an appropriate fancy-dinner outfit, and you’d say you’re looking classy. You grab your bag and head out the door.

It’s only a ten-minute walk, and there are all kinds of people out. You wonder why, then remember it’s Saturday. That explains it. 

There’s an especially rowdy bunch of guys up ahead, seemingly corralled by a middle-aged man with a mustache. As you draw closer, you hear his accent. American, specifically mid-Western. You breeze by them, catching snatches of their conversations and a mix of accents.

Your ear tunes into someone saying, “…not what really happened,” with an accent that reminds you so much of Jamie’s, you find yourself rooted to your spot in the sidewalk, turning around to confirm that it is not, in fact, him.

You make eye contact with the middle-aged mustached man, who smiles at you and shrugs. “Footballers. What a rowdy bunch,” he says, “Wonder where their coach’s at?”

You surmise by his jocular tone that he’s their coach.

You give him a small smile and he comes over to you. Your feet still won’t move, because you haven’t confirmed that the voice was not Jamie. Or maybe because this man is a gaffer, and you want him to say something, anything about possibly knowing Jamie Tartt.

“I’m Ted,” he says, sticking out his hand.

You shake it and give him your name. At this point, his team have noticed that their coach is talking to someone new, and they descend like a flock of curious children.

There’s a chorus of hellos and one hola, but it’s all a little lost because all you can hear is one soft, “hey.”

“Hi,” you breathe. 

One look into Jamie Tartt’s blue eyes and you’re a goner, even after six years.

Ted looks from you to Jamie. “Oh, do y’all know each other? Jamie, why didn’t you say something?”

“Dunno,” Jamie says, keeping his eyes on you.

Ted, great man that he is, assesses the situation with alarming perception.

“Alright boys, why don’t we let Jamie catch up with his lady-friend, and we’ll just text him where we end up, sound good?” 

It does not sound good to them, because they can tell something interesting is about to happen, but Ted and another bearded American herd them away and down the street, leaving you and Jamie alone on the sidewalk.

“How you been?” he asks, looking awkward as you feel.

“I’ve been…” what word is there to describe how you’ve been? You settle for a shrug.

He nods and huffs out a single chuckle. “Yeah, that about sums it up, don’t it?”

“What about you?” you ask, reaching out to lightly tap his arm. “Heard you were some hotshot footballer.”

Jamie imitates your shrug. “Heard you were some hotshot something or the other.”

You crack a small smile at that. “Georgie tell you?”

“Yeah,” Jamie says, “Felt the need to keep me updated. Don’t fuckin’ know why though.”

That hurts a little bit. This is a mistake, you think. You begin to realize, perhaps for the first time, that your pining after him was pointless. And one-sided.

That is, until Jamie says so softly you almost miss it, “Happy birthday, by the way.”

There it is. 

You open your mouth to say, I love you, but what comes out instead is, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Jamie asks in surprise.

“I’m just… sorry. For everything. For walking away. I don’t know, I feel like I should have fought it or something… I think about you all the time. I wish that I would’ve done something different, I guess. I know I can’t change it, but…” you shrug helplessly. 

Jamie just looks at you, head tilted. 

You huff out an awkward laugh. “Anyway. I should probably go. Meeting a bunch of girls for drinks and dinner.”

“You hate that shit,” Jamie says, and it comes out the exact same way he would have said it six years ago. Like he’s comfortable with you, like he knows every single tick in your brain.

“I do,” you agree ruefully. “Just couldn’t get out of it, I guess. Didn’t have a good excuse.”

“Go out with me,” Jamie suggests, impulsively. But then, he was never one for forethought. 

Your mouth opens to decline, then shuts.

“You’re done with school, yeah?” Jamie continues, “Mum said you haven’t been home in ages. Said she knows more about you than your parents. What if… what if we gave it another go? We’re fuckin’ adults, ain’t we? Let’s just fucking try.”

He’s looking at you, so full of anxious hope that it makes you want to cry. You can feel a few tears fighting their way forward.

“Jamie,” you say, “Jamie I don’t know. I mean- I hurt you. I knew what I was doing would hurt you and I did it anyway. I could hurt you again.”

Jamie replies, “Weren’t your fault though, was it?” and you’re taken back so vividly to that front porch.

You look at him, really look at him for the first time in six years. He’s older, you realize, and you think that he must think something similar about you. He’s calmer, almost- gentler? Still the same Jamie though, with the blonde highlights and the slit in his eyebrow. Outrageous sense of fashion, one that is no longer dulled by the ominous presence of his father. He’s more sure of himself, you think, and you realize you’re more sure too.

There isn’t anything hanging over your head threatening to take your livelihood away.

It’s poetic, really. You, him, in the dim streetlight. Deciding to begin again exactly six years after it ended.

“Jamie,” you say again, because you love the way his name feels on your lips, “I didn’t ever stop loving you. I don’t ever want to stop loving you.”

He’s taken a step closer, and there’s mere centimeters between you. 

“Y’know I’d never want you to put your life on hold for me, right?” you whisper, “Been thinking about stopping traveling. Maybe settle down closer, focus on my job more.”

Jamie smiles. “Go out with me,” he says. “Skip your dinner. You’d have a shit time, anyway.”

You smile back and reach out for his hand. It still fits perfectly in yours. Maybe even better.

“I would love to.”

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

INDIANA JONES is effortlessly paternal. It’s most apparent when you’re at your worst. Fussy about being hungry means you give him a lot of attitude, but he knows how to get past it almost like he studied your mood swings in school.

“There’s nothing you have that I could possibly want.” you tell him, and he answers your sharp quip with an unconvinced, “Right.” Stepping away to flip a satin cover off a tray. His large hand dwarfs a green apple, taking one simple bite while you hound after him. He eyes you as you wrap your hands around his, guiding the fruit to your mouth as you stand on the tips of your toes to reach. Pliantly, he feeds it to you, watching you mouth on its flesh with pleasured moans of hunger satiated.

Juice drips down your chin as the crisp apple is audibly chewed, and he raises the tray into your view, revealing ripe grapes and a mango. Your eyes sparkle with gratitude, plucking the platter from his grasp and rounding him to retreat to your room. Now that you’re primed, he leisurely follows after you. You’ve got a harsh tongue when you haven’t eaten, so now that that’s quelled, he’s got an ulterior motive to execute.

A thick finger reaches to tap the generous and dazzling chain link of gems around your neck, “Always wear your jewels to bed, princess?” When he’d complimented your outfit earlier, he’d attributed you to royalty, and now he was calling on it again. It makes you smile, laying the tray onto your silk bed. You whirl around, feeling especially coy even though you haven’t caught on to how skillfully he manipulates you.

“Yeah,” You nod. “and nothing else.”

It doesn’t take any clearer an invitation, and Indiana invites himself into your bed. Ankles have a home on his broad shoulders, using those rough hands to pick your hips up, raising them into his bucks. The man’s colossal, slamming into you at reckless pace that you would’ve scolded him for if he were anyone else. You’ve always been treated delicately because you’ll bite the head off of anyone who can’t nurture you the way you insist on, but ol’ Indy’s found a way around it. Or more accurately, his way that plows right through it.

“Where’s the fire now, huh, princess? Miss it when you were feisty.” Smug and husky from effort, that cruel statement shoots lightning up your spine, arching your back off the mattress as you clutch onto the sheets.

“Oh, Indy.” you sigh, sloppy wet sounds filling the room as the biggest cock you’ve ever taken bullies your insides. “Didn’t mean to,” you plead, “I know I can be a lot to… ah! Handle.”

“I’ll say. All that pretty head is concerned with is herself, ain’t that right, honey?”

The twist in your face deepens as he straightens on his knees, taking you with him and his tip hits a new angle. Your legs stick straight up, an arm securing you around the thighs as he fucks your elevated hole. Squeals of pleasure rip from your throat.

“Never met a girl so self-centered. Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’re in good hands. Gonna screw that right outta you.”

[ilovemilestellersmoustache]

Lost In Translation Pt 1

Summary: Senior year takes a toll on Trevor and Y/N, university applications, the NHL draft and what their plans are for the future. All the arguing leads to certain decisions that either make or break them.

WC: 1.7K

Senior year. It was supposed to be the final chapter of high school, the time when everything came together—friends, college applications, sports, love. But for Trevor, everything felt like it was slowly unraveling. The weight of his future and his crumbling relationship with Y/N pressed down on him with a force that left him suffocating. He had dreamed of making it to the NHL his whole life, but now, standing on the edge of his senior year, that dream felt like it was slipping out of reach.

And then there was Y/N.

They had been dating for two years, a whirlwind romance that had once seemed untouchable. Trevor and Y/N were the couple everyone envied. She was smart, funny, always understanding of his hockey schedule, and she had her own ambitions, too—dreams of leaving their small town and studying at a university in another state. But now, in their final year, the future loomed over them like a storm cloud. They were headed in different directions, and no amount of pretending could change that.

The arguments started off small. At first, it was about Trevor missing dinner dates because of hockey practice or being too exhausted to hang out after games. Y/N would say something sarcastic, and Trevor would brush it off, but the tension grew with every passing week.

“You’re not even here anymore,” Y/N had said one night after he’d canceled another movie night to stay late at the rink. Her eyes were filled with disappointment, but also something else—something darker that made Trevor’s chest tighten. “All you care about is hockey.”

“That’s not fair,” Trevor had shot back, slamming his gear bag onto the floor. “This is my dream, Y/N. You knew that from the start.”

“And what about us?” she countered. “We can’t even have a conversation without you bringing up scouts or practices. I’m trying to make plans for the future, too, but I can’t do that if you’re not even trying to meet me halfway.”

It was the same fight, repeated in different words, different scenarios. They were both frustrated, both feeling the pressure of what was coming next, and neither of them knew how to handle it.

Then came the night that changed everything.

Trevor had just finished a grueling practice when his teammates suggested they hit up a party. He hesitated, knowing Y/N wasn’t thrilled with him partying so much lately, especially without her, but he needed a break. He needed to forget about the scouts, the pressure, the fights. So, he went. One drink turned into two, then five. Before he knew it, he was a mess of alcohol and bad decisions.

That’s when he met Chloe.

She was someone’s friend from another school—blonde, tall, and flirtatious. Trevor wasn’t interested in her. Not really. He loved Y/N, despite their fights, despite the distance that had been growing between them. But as the night wore on and his teammates nudged him toward Chloe, he found himself too drunk to resist the distraction. They laughed about something stupid, her hand brushing his arm, and in a moment of weakness, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close for a picture that someone snapped on their phone.

The next morning, Trevor woke up with a pounding headache and a pit of guilt in his stomach. He hadn’t done anything—he hadn’t kissed Chloe or gone any further—but the fact that he had even let it get that far made him sick. He grabbed his phone and checked his notifications.

One story stood out.

The picture.

It was of him and Chloe. He stared at it for what felt like an eternity, the caption someone had written: "Ain’t that Y/N’s boy?"

His heart dropped. He knew Y/N would see it. He knew what it looked like, what people would say. The damage was done.

He tried calling her, but she didn’t pick up. He texted, but no response. Hours turned into days, and he knew—deep down, he knew—things were over.

Three months passed.

Three months of radio silence from Y/N. Three months of training, preparing for scouts, and trying to bury the ache in his chest. He threw himself into hockey, determined to make it to the NHL, but no matter how hard he trained, no matter how many games he won, the empty space where Y/N had once been gnawed at him constantly.

He saw her around school, of course. She looked fine—maybe even happy—laughing with her friends, talking about college plans, as if the last two years meant nothing. It hurt more than he thought it would, but he couldn’t blame her. He had let her down, and now, she was moving on without him.

But Trevor wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.

It was a Friday night, just a few weeks before graduation, and Trevor was sitting in his room, staring at the pile of college acceptance letters on his desk. He had been drafted, the one thing he had been working toward for years. But instead of feeling relief, all he felt was regret. The draft meant leaving for training camps, possibly in a different state or even country, and Y/N would be gone soon, too, heading to her dream university.

He couldn’t let it end like this.

Before he could second-guess himself, he grabbed his phone and typed out a message.

“Can we talk?”

He stared at the screen, heart pounding, waiting for those three little dots to appear.

After what felt like forever, they did.

“What’s there left to say?”

Trevor clenched his jaw, typing quickly before he could lose his nerve.

“I’m sorry. For everything. Can you please just meet me? One last time.”

There was a long pause, and then her reply came through.

“Fine. Tomorrow at the coffee shop.”

The next day, Trevor arrived early, his stomach in knots. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say, only that he needed to see her, to try to fix things before it was too late.

When Y/N walked in, he nearly lost his breath. She looked beautiful, the same way she always did, but there was a coldness in her eyes that made his heart sink.

“Hey,” she said, sitting down across from him.

“Hey.” Trevor swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “Thanks for meeting me.”

She shrugged. “Figured we should at least have some closure.”

Closure. The word hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Y/N, I—" He stopped, unsure of where to begin. “I screwed up. I know that. But I never meant to hurt you.”

She looked at him, her expression unreadable. “Trevor, we’ve been hurting each other for months. It’s not just about that picture, though that definitely didn’t help. It’s about everything—your dreams, my dreams. We’re going in completely different directions.”

“But that doesn’t mean we have to end things like this,” he said quickly, leaning forward. “I still love you. I’ve always loved you.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Trevor, love isn’t enough when everything else is falling apart. You’re going to the NHL. I’m going to be hours away at university. We’re not the same people we were when we started dating.”

“I know, but—”

“But what?” she cut him off, her voice sharper than he’d ever heard it. “Do you really think we can keep doing this? You’re going to be traveling all the time, training, playing games, and I’m going to be focused on school. We’ve barely survived senior year as it is.”

Trevor’s chest tightened. She was right. Every word she said was true. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were meant to be together, that they could find a way to make it work if they just tried harder.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Y/N’s expression softened for the first time since they sat down, but there was still a sadness in her eyes. “I don’t want to lose you either, Trevor. But sometimes… sometimes love isn’t enough.”

She stood up, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders. “I think it’s best if we both move on. Focus on our futures.”

Trevor stood too, his heart pounding in his chest. “Is this really it?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, as if she was considering something, but then she nodded. “Yeah. I think it is.”

She gave him one last, sad smile before turning and walking out of the coffee shop, leaving him standing there, feeling like the ground had just been ripped out from beneath him.

The months that followed were some of the hardest Trevor had ever faced. He threw himself into training for the NHL, traveling for rookie camps, and preparing for what was supposed to be the next chapter of his life. But no matter how far he went, no matter how many games he won, there was always a part of him that couldn’t let go of Y/N.

He heard through mutual friends that she was doing well at her university, making new friends, thriving in her classes. Trevor was happy for her—he really was—but it didn’t make the ache in his chest any easier to bear.

As the weeks turned into months, Trevor started to realize something. Maybe Y/N had been right. Maybe they were headed in different directions. But that didn’t mean he had to forget about everything they had shared. It didn’t mean he had to stop caring about her, or stop loving her.

Because no matter how much distance was between them, no matter how different their futures were, Y/N would always be a part of him. And maybe things could fix themself in the future