#now i have to clean with a broom and then wipe the floor and I don't have a mop

[i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end]

Anyway, I scrubbed the floor today and now I have to think about Sherlock. XD

[jjunieworld]

spilt milk ⋆｡˚ 🥛 𓂅

part two to the great bake off!! — requested by anon, enjoy! ♡

pairing: choi soobin x afab!reader (no prns!)

genre: smut, pwp (previous part), some fluff if you squint

synopsis: after a particularly messy competition week in the shop, you and soobin are told to stay after hours to clean the bakery up. with soobin winning the title of the best baker who ever lived, you have an idea of what his prize should be.

warnings: soft dom!soobin & somewhat sub!reader, freshly established relationship, soobin has a big fat dick, slight size kink (can you blame me), unprotected sex (pls wrap it i beg!), fingering, oral (m. receiving), making out, slight exhibitionism(?), multiple creampies, multiple orgasms, slight orgasm control, some praise, use of pet names (baby, darling), slight hair pulling (m.), fingers are in mouths, slight dick training(?), lots of teasing, marking, slight overstimulation, some cockwarming

word count: 4.0k┊part one┊masterlist

a/n: i’m sorry but i’m laughing so hard at the cute ass pictures i chose only for you to look down and see the huge paragraph of warnings lmaoo… anon, this one is for you (and for me), you’re welcome!! this was a blast to write even if it did take me forever ♡

it was the day after soobin was crowned the best baker who ever lived, a monday, and the tensions in the competition were at an all time high. you thought you were competing hard before, but it was nothing compared to the all out war you and soobin we’re having right now.

mrs, choi had left the two of you in charge of the bakery while she ran to get some more ingredients and various other things that the bakery needed. honestly, it really didn’t help your competition. everytime one of you had to take your turn up at the register, you would bring the mess from the back of the bakery with you.

dry ingredients was all over the floor near the register. you and soobin were covered in everything under the sun. when mrs. choi had come back, she almost dropped the bags she was carrying in shock. once the two of you had finished all the orders for the day—which didn’t take you all that long at the pace you both were going—mrs. choi pulled you both aside, scolding you and telling you to stay late to clean up. it’s safe to say she wasn’t that happy, though you had to hold in your laugh when she was scolding soobin and flour kept falling from his hair as he nodded.

now you and soobin were near each other, brooms in hand, trying to get the flour and sugar off the floor and failing miserably. “why is this actually impossible?” you asked aloud as you tried to sweep the flour but it only kept spreading. you sighed in defeat and went to wipe off the counters instead.

“i know, it’s making me almost regret going so hard in the competition today…” soobin trailed. so far, soobin had the most points this week. he was washing a huge pile of dishes and looked like wanted to die because of it. you giggled at him as you picked up discarded dough and threw it in the trash.

at least the two of you weren’t a mess anymore. mrs. choi made the two of you go home and shower before coming back. it was a little weird coming back to the bakery while the sun was just over the horizon. the blinds in front of the windows were pulled down and the open sign was turned to closed. the hanging stars were glowing softly when you came to the back to begin cleaning.

once the bakery was finally clean and you and soobin were putting the cleaning supplies away, he suddenly asked, “what’s my prize?” you turned to him, a confused look on your face as you put away the broom. soobin was leaning back on the counter next to the register, a slight pout on his lips.

“what do i get for being crowned the best baker who ever lived?” he asked, his question clearer. there was a hint of a teasing smirk on his face, which you rolled your eyes slightly to. then a thought occurred to you, a mischievous grin forming on your lips. you strolled to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. his arms immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.

you hummed softly. “i’m thinking something soft…” you trailed as you look up at him through hooded eyes. “something warm…” you trailed your fingers down soobin’s chest slowly, continuing until you were a couple of inches above the waistband of his sweatpants. soobin’s eyes followed the motion. your eyes flickered up to him to see he was watching your hand intently, light pink dusting his cheeks.

“something you can fill…” you leaned in to say lowly as you looked into his eyes. you felt something hard against your thigh as soobin’s arms wrapped tighter around your waist. you brought your lips inches from his ear. “would you like that?” you whispered seductively, breath fanning lightly on his neck. goosebumps formed seconds later and you smirked slightly as you pressed feather light kisses to his jawline.

you moved the arm that was still around his neck to cup his face, staring up at him with doe eyes. soobin’s lips were on yours hungrily. his fingertips pressed into the small of your back and you let out a soft moan. your hand lightly palmed the bulge in his sweatpants and soobin backed away your lips, whimpering slightly as he pressed his forehead to yours. “y/n…” he breathed, his breaths were coming out short as you continued your palming.

smiling slightly against his lips, you pulled away and dropped to your knees in front of him, keeping your eyes on his. if the bakery windows weren’t covered right now, it would be a sight to see. “fuck…” he muttered lowly, barely audible for you to hear. the tips of his ears and his cheeks were a deep pink. you hooked your fingers into his waistband and pulled softly, eyes still on his. he squeezed his eyes shut briefly, “please, y/n…”

you were one to oblige. you grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers and pulled them down slowly. soobin’s fingers were gripping the edge of the counter so hard that they were turning white. soobin’s cock sprang up, free from the restraints of his clothes, and bounced lightly off his lower abdomen.

you stared at it with wide eyes. you weren’t expecting soobin’s cock to be so… huge, you had no idea how you were gonna fit it all in your mouth like you originally intended. soobin let out a soft whimper as you started lightly pumping his shaft with both hands. precum trailed down the tip of his cock and you lapped it up.

soobin let out a loud moan, throwing his head back briefly. he looked down at you, eyes glazed. “s-stop teasing…” soobin managed as you continued to pump him and kitten lick his head. he put a hand on your shoulder, pushing you closer. you giggled, the vibrations making him let out another moan, and put him in your mouth slowly. you definitely weren’t going to be able to take all of him, at about half way you were basically deepthroating him. soobin let out a shuddering breath, “please y/n… i need— need you to start moving.” you did as you were told, moving your mouth up and down his shaft slowly.

you could tell soobin was close when his head fell and his cock started to twitch in your mouth. his breathing was heavy and the grip on your shoulder tightened. soobin moved the hand from your shoulder to the back of your head. “i’m so… close… faster…” he whined as he softly moved your head. you wrapped a hand at the base of his shaft and started pumping as you sucked him off faster.

the cord finally snapped and you felt warm liquid pour into your mouth and down your throat. you hummed, continuing your motions as you helped soobin ride out his high. he was a whimpering mess in front of you. you pulled soobin’s cock out your mouth slowly, staring up at him as you swallowed his cum. that almost undid him again completely as he moaned your name softly between haggard breaths.

soobin cupped your face and pulled you to your feet, crashing his lips onto yours. it was sloppy and desperate as he slid his hands down your waist and to your thighs. he hooked his hands under them and lifted you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his bare waist. the tip of his dick brushed against your ass and you rocked your hips at the touch. you needed him. needed his huge cock inside you, filling you up, begging you to break. soobin moaned against your lips, sending a shiver up your spine.

you were backed against the wall where the chalkboard menu was as you and soobin hungrily kissed each other. you pushed your hips off the wall and towards his needily. pulling away, you let out a moan and soobin’s lips immediately found your neck, sucking down on it. moving your neck so he could get better access, you whimpered as he found your sweet spot. “soobin…”

soobin hummed as he pressed kisses to the sensitive marks. you shivered slightly. “need you… please…” you whined as his tip brushed against you again. you were sure the panties you wore were soaked and soobin had barely even touched you. soobin trailed his kisses from your neck to your cheek. you hardly felt him move you to the back of the bakery, too drunk on his lips on yours.

it wasn’t until you were bent over the ingredients table, soobin pulling your leggings and wet panties down and discarding them off to the side somewhere, that you realized you were in a different part of the bakery. you gasped at the sudden exposure and looked back to soobin. he pressed his body up against you, his dick rubbing against your ass. soobin looked down at you, desire swirling in his eyes. he placed his hands on your hips as you grinded back onto him, needing some sort of friction.

soobin put his head in the crook of your neck as you whimpered. “you know how i got the title of the greatest baker alive?” soobin asked you lowly, lips coming to your ear. he held your hips in place when you tried to grind back on him again and instead lifted one of your legs onto the table. soobin pressed light kisses across your back until he was at your other ear. one of his hands trailed from your hip down to your clit. he started rubbing small circles onto it. you arched your back, moaning his name as you melted underneath him. “by being good with my hands,” soobin continued, whispering in your other ear. his breath fanned your neck as his fingers traveled further.

you looked back to him, a desperate look on your face, as you grinded back on him again. his hard cock rubbed slightly on your entrance and you fell down onto the table at the euphoria. using the hand that was on your hip, soobin trails it up under your shirt and up your stomach as he pulls you up and back towards him until your head is leaning against his chest. his hand cups your breast, thumb rubbing your nipple slightly. your shirt rises at the action, exposing your other breast to the cold wind. “would you like to see how good i am with my hands?”

whimpering at his touch, all you can do is look up into his eyes and nod. “let me hear your pretty words, baby.” soobin speaks as he rubs his two long fingers against your entrance. you’re breathing heavily and it takes you everything you have to push out words. “p-please…”

soobin’s fingers halt its movements. “please what?” you take your lip between your teeth and bite down hard and inhale sharply at the loss of friction. “please soobin—” your head falls slightly and soobin takes the hand from your breast and tilts it back up so you’re staring at him again. “show… show me how— how good you are…” you finally push out. soobin gives you a satisfied smile and presses his lips to yours at the same time as he pushes two slender fingers into you.

gasping loudly against his lips, your knees almost buckled had it not been for the fact that soobin was holding you up. he pumped his fingers in and out of you, trying to go slowly but you were so wet his fingers quickly became slick with your arousal, moving faster than intended. “fuck y/n… you’re so wet. and it’s all for me.”

soobin locked his lips with yours, keeping you against him as kept fucking you so you wouldn’t double over. his long fingers then curled against your walls, hitting just the right spot. you moaned against his lips, “don’t stop… d-don’t—”

the difference between how soobin was kissing you and how he was fingering you sent your head into even more of a daze. he was kissing you so slowly, so softly as his fingers pushed in and out of you relentlessly. it had you clenching around him as the squelching sounds and your desperate moans and whimpers filled the room. “i won’t, baby, i won’t.”

your body shuddered as your back arched suddenly. you pulled away from soobin’s lips as you struggled to breathe. “gonna cum…” you trailed off breathily. soobin continued his pumping and started rubbing your nipple again. he pressed open mouthed kisses to your neck. you felt his smile when you shivered from it. “cum for me, darling. all over my fingers.”

drowning in the pleasure soobin was giving you, you came all over his fingers just like he told you to. soobin didn’t stop, in fact he started fucking you with his fingers faster. your hands clenched against the table as you moaned his name, completely fucked out.

soobin took his fingers out of you, holding it in front of you to see as the remaining white liquid dripped out of you and down your thigh. his whole hand was dripping with your release, drops of it falling onto the table. “look at how good you did, baby. you took my fingers so well.” you took his hand, staring up at him through glazed and hooded eyes, and put his wet fingers in your mouth. you smiled lazily at him as you pull them out slowly, relishing in the way his eyes widen a fraction. soobin took his thumb and dragged it across your bottom lip and chin, picking up the cum that dripped onto it. he pushed his thumb into your mouth and you gladly sucked the cum off of it. soobin placed a sloppy kiss on your lips, his tongue dancing in your mouth as he tasted your arousal.

he pulls away and turns you around, pushing you down gently onto the table by your shoulders and lifting your legs onto it. “i wanna see your pretty face when i fuck you.” you lean back to one side on your elbow, still breathing heavily from your orgasm. you reach for his cock and pump it slowly. “soobin… i need you… inside me…” you whimper.

soobin spreads your legs and pushes them towards your chest as he leans forward and kisses you. pulling away, he looks at you with genuine concern. “are you sure you can take it all?” you nod rapidly. instead of his cock, soobin pushes three fingers into you. he does it with ease as he slowly moves them in and out of you, leaning forward and kissing you.

whining against his lips, you buck your hips up, which causes his fingers to go deeper into you. you cried out in pleasure. “please… i need it,” you moan. soobin chuckles as he takes his fingers out and puts them in his own mouth, you groan at the sight, head falling back against the wall. he takes his cock and lines it up with your entrance, rubbing it with his tip a little. “you want my cock?” you buck your hips again, a whimper escaping your lips.

soobin laughs softly and pushes his thick cock into you slowly, his head flying back as he let out a moan as you stretch around him. his cock is inside you halfway when he stops, letting you adjust. he leans down to kiss you as he starts rubbing slow circles on your clit.

once you adjust, he starts moving slowly, only ever putting half of him inside you. you arch your back, getting used to how much he already fills you up. you’re already close to cumming again and soobin can tell as your walls clench around him and your legs shake. his hands are against the wall as he squeezes his eyes shut briefly. you grind up against him and it almost takes the both of you out. his head falls as he places his hands flat on the table and your brows scrunch up as you both let out an entangled moan.

soobin takes his cock out from inside you and you whine at the loss. he laughs lowly, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine and to your core. his fingers stop rubbing your clit and tears prick at your eyes from how badly you need the sensation back. “you want it that badly?” soobin asks you lowly, his voice soft as he leans down close to your lips. all you can do is lean your head against the wall and nod.

“let me hear your words, baby.” soobin continues his slow circles on your clit.

“please…” you whisper desperately, running your hands through his hair and pulling a little so that it pulls his head back. “i-i need your cock… badly…” soobin moaned softly and you chased his lips, needing his lips on yours, as you clawed at his back. he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then pulled away from you fully. soobin then takes his other hand and grabs one of your legs and puts it over his shoulder. he doesn’t even get you time to moan at the new angle your clit is being rubbed at before he shoves his cock back inside you, completely bottoming out. you gasp as the sudden feel of him, back arching and hips rolling involuntarily.

soobin gives you a second of adjustment before he thrusts sharply into you. you let out a loud cry of pleasure as you melt under him. soobin continues his quick thrusts into you, making sure he pulls all the way out until just his tip is inside you before slamming back into you again. he holds your leg to his chest tightly and the slow circles on your clit become fast ones. you're a whimpering mess under him, only being able to moan his name, as you grip onto the edge of the table desperately.

“is this what you want? for me to fuck you like this?” soobin asks you through pants, pummeling into you faster. you gasp and squeeze your eyes shut, crying out as you feel yourself cum again and your back arches more. soobin fucks the cum back into you. you whine, barely nodding, as your clit grows more and more sensitive from his circling. your breaths are coming out haggard under his unrelenting movements and you can tell he’s close by the way his thrusts grow sloppier and his hips jerk.

soobin takes his hand from your clit and you finally get a full breath in. your brain is foggy with pleasure and you see that his is too. his eyes are glazed over as he stares down at his cock entering and exiting you. the sounds coming from your bodies are downright pornographic. the wetness as soobin fucks mercilessly into you, your skin slapping hard against each other, the creaking of the table under you, and the loud, desperate moans and whimpers that are leaving the both of your lips. it’s all too much. so much that it almost makes you cum again and you lean your head back, tears in your eyes, to look at the ceiling.

soobin suddenly grabs your jaw, making you look him in the eyes. “speak up, baby. tell me how you want me to fuck you.” he says low and breathily. you stare at him through your lashes, breathy moans coming from your mouth as you shake violently under him from another orgasm.

“i-i want you to fuck me hard…” you manage, “senseless…” a satisfied grin plays on his lips as he pulls your face towards him for a deep kiss that quickly turns sloppy as he releases into you, filling you up even more to the point where cum is dripping out of you and onto the table.

soobin’s kisses turn soft as his thrusts slow to a stop and he whispers words of praise in your ear. you’re both panting and sweaty at the whole exchange as you pull away from each other. soobin holds you close, cock still inside you, as your shaking ceases and he rubs circles into your back. “you did so good for me, darling. you took my cock so well. i’m proud of you.” once you’re still again, he wipes the stray tears that escaped from your eyes off your cheeks and cups your face, pressing feather light kisses on your eyes. he brings his forehead to yours and gives you a soft kiss on the nose that you giggle at as you lean back on your hands.

finally, soobin pulls out of you and releases a river of cum with it onto the table that drips down to the floor. he smirks down at it before looking back at you, his smirk growing at how fucked out you look. you barely even register the smirk. it disappears as his eyes then go soft, cupping your face again.

“too much?” soobin asked, concern lacing his voice. you remove your leg from his shoulder, the feeling of stickiness intensifying. you shook your head as a dazed smile spreads across your lips. “it was just enough. it was perfect.” you lean over to kiss him and soobin chuckles against your lips.

“what are you gonna do about all of this?” you ask and motion down to your half naked bodies covered in cum. your legs are still spread to avoid sticking them together. the bottom of soobin’s shirt and his sweatpants were ruined with the amount of cum on them. there was cum on your shirt too and you didn’t even know where your leggings and panties were.

“how are we gonna clean up all this cum and go back out into society i think is the better question.” soobin responded, his cheeks flushed. you giggled, and he looks back up to you. “i didn’t know i’d do this good of a job…” you press light kisses to his cheeks.

soobin grabs a warm wet napkin and cleans you up, making sure to be extra gentle. he laughs softly when you twitch from the sudden wetness. he helps you off the table, avoiding the liquids on the ground, and cleans himself off after. you pull your shirt down and look around for your bottoms as soobin pulls up his boxers and sweatpants.

“nice outfit,” you laugh, pulling up your leggings. soobin looks down at the dried cum and laughs. “i could say the same to you,” he replies. he grabs your hips and pulles you close, his arms then wrapping around your waist. you wrapped yours around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

“you’re not sore?” he asks softly, “not hurting anywhere?” you press a kiss to his cheek that causes a dimpled smile to show up. you pressed another to his lips. “not hurting anywhere and not sore… yet…” you giggled softly at him. “you don’t have to be so concerned, i’m okay!” after assuring him a couple more times, soobin finally believed you.

it’s safe to say that the two of you had to stay even longer after hours than expected cleaning everything again and fixing the chalkboard menu. you also had to leave the bakery wearing your aprons. for the rest of the week—and honestly, permanently after—soobin was worshiping the ground you walked on.

of course, you had told your best friend sunoo about the events and he almost screamed in the middle of chaconne, flowers flying everywhere. “you’re welcome!” he said, crossing his arms smugly with a satisfied grin. you had to once again remind him that he had no part in your relationship. “i’m the one who told you about the bakery! without me, you’d never get any creampies!” he winked and gave you a pointed look towards your neck that were covered with hickeys badly hidden with a scarf.

you hid your face in your hands as heat spread across it. maybe it was a bad idea telling sunoo about you and soobin having sex…

the shift after at the bakery was awkward to say the least. you both could barely focus on the goods you were making or the competition because you kept thinking about the previous night’s events. the two of you had forgotten about the cameras and soobin had to run to erase the footage before his mom checked them. that surely would’ve been an awkward conversation to have that you were glad was avoided.

the both of you did watch it before deleting it, though, and watching the two of you have sex was a whole other experience. one that you often brought up everytime you wanted to catch soobin off guard and see his pretty cheeks tinged pink.

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taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka

masterlist┊part one┊request rules ⋆｡˚ ᝰ -﹏-

[irisintheafterglow]

he's the death you chose (you're in terrible danger)

summary: married life with husband!gojo means cleaning up bodies at 2am.

wc: 1k

cw/tags: mentions of violence, blood, and deaths (nothing graphic), mild angst/comfort with happy ending, some swearing, yes this is the albatross coded

note: honestly not sure where this came from! was just listening to ttpd and thought about what being married to gojo realistically would be like (aka always being targeted as his weakness that it becomes routine). hope you like it :)

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

Wise men once said, “Don’t sleep with your windows open,” and you should have listened to them. If you had, there wouldn’t be three dead mercenaries in your living room, and another somewhere in your kitchen. There were five, originally, but you figured the last one was being hunted down a hallway as he tried to escape your building. The blood-spotted microwave’s clock reads 2:08 when you glance at it to grab cleaning supplies from the cupboard. 2:10 is when Satoru re-enters the apartment and kicks off his shoes. 

“I called Ijichi; he’s sending over cleaners right now,” he says, carefully stepping around the blood and curse guts splattered on the floorboards. Stray drops of who knows what speckle the photos on the bookshelf and he wipes them with his sleeve, scowling. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” 

“Yeah, there’d probably be less of a mess,” you admit, wiping down the kitchen island and guiding the crumbs and dust into the trash. “But they’d still be dead, so I guess it doesn’t really matter in the end.” 

“You handled yourself pretty well for being out of the country for a few months,” he adds appreciatively, retrieving the carpet cleaner from under the sink and sprinkling it onto the living room floor. “I still think it’d be better if you lived on-campus, though.” He squints in the pale moonlight at the pile of abrasive powder and decides to dump a little bit more for good measure. 

“I know–Hey, what’d I tell you about wasting the carpet cleaner? A little goes a long way, remember?” Satoru sets the tube down and puts his hands up in surrender, reaching back and tightening his blindfold before he approaches you in the kitchen. “I can hear your thoughts as they make their way to your mouth, dear.” 

“Look, I know what you’re gonna say–”

“Don’t ask what you’re about to ask, then, if you already know the answer,” you interject with that lightning-quick wit he adored so much. You move to grab the broom from next to the fridge, but he gently catches your wrist and turns you to face him. 

“You’d be safer there,” he continues and you pull your lips into a tight line. 

“Only place I’m safe is wherever I'm with you, realistically.” You had a point. In any other circumstance, the sentiment would be sweet if it wasn’t horribly true. You’d heard time and time again from Satoru how he stared restlessly at the ceiling, anxious about what danger might be coming wherever you were. He theorizes that the higher-ups promoted you to spite him, to have you travel even more often than he was and visit more places across the globe than any seasoned sorcerer would be comfortable with. Phone calls weren’t enough to verify that you were safe; he had to see you, feel you, know you were alive. “This is, what, the second time this month? The first time was when I came back from Paris, right?”

“I don’t think that was this month. It might’ve been the last week of the month prior. Monaco, maybe?”

“Eh, same thing. They always come after me when I get back from Europe. You think they’re trying to catch me off guard or something?”

“I don’t know if we can predict a schedule with these guys, babe,” he grimaces. As much as he liked that you were making light of the situation, the churning in his gut about what could have happened if he didn’t come was too painful to ignore. “Your dad would kill me if he saw how much danger I put you in.” 

“It’s a step up than sneaking me out of the third story of the house, I’ll admit,” you tease. How you could still find humor in times like these, he could never fathom. It’d taken months to convince your father to let Satoru court you, let alone marry you. To your family, he was an impediment, an obstacle, and, unfortunately, the love of your life. “Maybe even as bad as the food poisoning you got from that one place in Sendai.”

“I don’t think ‘in sickness and in health’ is supposed to apply to attempted assassinations. Food poisoning and sprained ankles, sure, but that other one toes the line a little too much.” The frequency of your life in danger was why he wanted you to live full-time on one of the Jujutsu Tech campuses and become a teacher, like him. Sure, a selfish part of him wanted you closer all the time, but he’d pick your safety over your proximity any day. 

“How far are the cleaners?” You yawn, washing your hands at the sink and scanning for everything in your home that needs to be wiped or scrubbed. 

“Ten minutes, tops. I can wait for them if you wanna go back to bed.” He knew you weren’t going to take him up on his offer. You were never able to sleep properly after attempts like this unless he was in the same room. “Though I know you won’t.”

“Isn’t it a little fucked up that we know how the rest of these nights usually go?” You chuckle, a soft, airy sound that takes some of the weight off of Satoru’s chest. You were truly sunlight incarnate and he was the darkest, unseen side of the moon. 

“I’d say this is all my fault, honestly.” You look at him curiously and he shrugs. “I’m the one who made you fall in love with me, after all.” 

“By that logic, I’m also partially to blame,” you point out, flashing him the ring on your left hand. The glow of cursed energy Satoru had embedded into the gemstones glows like Christmas lights in the darkness. The energy was more concentrated than your own body’s natural reserves, allowing him to pinpoint you immediately as long as you were wearing it. Danger and plans A through Z, and everything in between that came with marrying the strongest sorcerer in existence. “I can’t count the number of people who warned me about you.”  

“Why didn’t you listen to them?” 

“Because they’re not you,” you smile. “If you say that you’ll keep me safe, then I trust you to keep your word.” Sunlight incarnate, he thinks again, and God help anyone who tries to block you from him.

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[dxxdhood]

wait for me

pairing: waiter!dick grayson x gn!reader

summary: after getting stood up on a date, you notice the waiter who's been patiently watching you all evening.

tags: smut (18+), sub!dick grayson, dom!reader, teasing, dirty talk, humiliation, name-calling, slapping, handjob

wc: 1.9k

a/n: hey, hope you guys like this one! if anyone has any requests/thoughts, please send them in. i want to write more, but i really struggle with ideas haha

It’s not that bad, all things considered. You must have the intuition of a god for choosing a restaurant that allows free refills, because if you’ve had to pay for drinks this whole night, you’d have gone completely broke. Still, you can’t help feeling pretty shitty. There’s no way your date is running two hours late.

The place is a casual diner, serving a host of soups, sandwiches, and pastries that had you salivating earlier on in the night, but right now, you’re not exactly in the mood to browse the menu again. The diner doesn’t close until twelve, but it’s been almost deserted for the past hour, probably because it’s a weeknight and the average person has plenty better to do than wait on a person who’s made it obvious they’re not coming

Just as you’re about to get up and leave – for real this time – the waiter comes around to refill your drink. It’s a quarter till twelve, and at this point you know he probably wants to start cleaning up, but still he tops up your drink without saying anything. It’s a kindness, but a part of you just wishes he would kick you out already.

He’s been the only waiter on staff since you got here – even the manager knew this place would be empty – and you’re so glad he was, because if you ever want to show your face here again, all you have to do is avoid one person. It’s a shame that you feel too embarrassed to interact with him, though. He’s been nothing but polite, only asking if you were ready to order at the very beginning before quickly picking up on the fact that you were waiting on your date– the one that wasn’t coming.

You take a sip from your full drink, but you can’t stomach any more. Standing up, you try to avoid eye contact with the waiter, who’s relaxing behind the counter, as you step towards the exit. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of your head, like you’ve skipped a step or forgotten an important task. It dawns on you as you’re facing the exit: you forgot to tip him!

Well, you didn’t order a meal and you paid for your drink up front, so you’re not exactly sure if you were meant to tip him. Hell, you didn’t know if this restaurant accepted tips at all. But this waiter just watched you sit through quiet torture and the second-hand embarrassment was probably like stepping on glass.

“Hey,” you turn around. “Do I… Should I tip you?”

“Yeah, I was wondering that, too,” he says lightly. He purses his lips and stares to the side, “I’ve turned it over a few times in my head, and decided that nope! You don’t need to tip me. You have no lawful or moral obligation, I resolve you.”

You feel your eyes getting watery, so you focus on the dust in the crease between the wall and the floor. Him saying that only makes you feel worse, but it’d be too awkward to hand him the money now. It feels like there should be something you could do, some way you could thank him for keeping you company.

“How many people are staffed right now?” you ask.

He looks caught off guard, like he expected the interaction to end there. “Oh, just me and one other guy in the kitchen.”

“Let me help you close.”

His eyes widen, and you try to meet his gaze. He’s puzzled, probably trying to figure out what you get out of helping him. Eventually, he shrugs his shoulders and gets up from behind the counter.

“Yeah, why not,” he says with a fond smirk, gesturing to you to follow him. 

He leads you to the supply closet, where the two of you grab cleaning spray, rags, and a broom. While you work on wiping down the tables and chairs, he counts the cash in the register.

“So, you always offer to clean up after yourself?” he starts, too focused on tallying up the earnings to notice you staring at him. The waiter, “Dick” according to his name tag, is very cute. You were trying to ignore him the best you could for the sake of your would-be date, but honestly, fuck that guy. Your waiter with the dashing smile and ruffled hair blows him out of the water, anyway.

“Just feeling extra polite tonight. You always accept help from customers?”

“You won’t believe this, but nobody’s offered,” he says with a snort. “Still, probably not the smartest idea on my part.”

You think about his words for a second as you wipe down a particularly stubborn stain. “I wouldn’t be able to rob you if I wanted to.”

It’s true, he looked well-muscled, even if on the leaner side. His eyes are playful as he narrows them at you. “Careful, they take security footage of this place, don't confess to any thoughts you may or may not have.”

You laugh, going back to cleaning before you start again. “Can’t believe you put off closing the diner just so you could watch me get stood up for an extra however many minutes.”

“Counterpoint: Can’t believe you let yourself get stood up for so long.” Dick finishes up at the register and grabs the broom. “You’re worth more than that.”

“Oh? And how do you know what I’m worth?” you say instinctively. 

You watch his eyes widen from your peripheral vision, like he didn’t mean to say his last comment out loud. “I wasn’t trying to overstep, but, like, obviously you’re attractive. You could get anyone you wanted and–”

“You’ve been watching me all night, haven't you?” Filled with newfound confidence, you leave your rag and spray bottle and walk over to where Dick is sweeping the entrance. 

Despite how friendly he’s been tonight, he deliberately avoids eye contact as he works. “Well, yeah, I needed to make sure you got your order once – if – you placed one–”

“No, no. I mean you were watching me,” you place a hand on his shoulder. “What, you wish you were the one I was going on a date with?”

And though you know you’re jumping to conclusions, he stiffens at your words and it’s clear you’ve caught him.

“I… I didn’t want to bother–” Dick starts, dropping the broom. You use the opening to push him against the wall, hearing the scratches of the brick against his button up shirt.

“That’s alright,” you whisper. “I don’t mind being bothered.”

You can feel his chest rise and fall as you press yourself closer to him. His eyes follow your every move, and you bring your face closer until it's only inches away from his. 

You can feel the puffs of his inhales and exhales on your skin, and you’re about to completely close the gap between you two, but Dick beats you to it. He kisses you, and you pull back for a moment in surprise before sinking into the kiss.

His lips are so warm, and as he brings up a hand to pull you closer by the jaw, you notice how surprisingly soft his hands are. You try to deepen the kiss, nipping his lip in the process, and he lets out a gasp. Biting at his lip a little more, he giggles as he realizes you’re playing with him.

“You’re starting to bother me,” he quips, trying to keep his composure as you nip at the underside of his jaw. Just when he starts getting comfortable and relaxing into your kisses, you switch to biting at him, and he jolts.

“Maybe you deserve it. You need to learn better manners, sitting there, watching me all night. Bet you wish I would’ve shoved you against this wall a whole lot sooner, huh?” you whisper into his ear before going back to kissing down his neck. He moans at your words, but tries to muffle himself by pushing his face into his shoulder. You bring a hand up to his hair and tug to get him to pay attention to you.

“Right in front of everyone, too,” you continue, sliding a hand down his stomach to work on his jeans. “Just mark you, make you moan like a bitch while everyone else is watching.”

Biting his lip, Dick tries to ignore the effect your words have on him, but he’s still rutting against your hand as you’re unzipping him. He gives a small thrust against the air, whimpering as you wrap your hand around his cock.

“Shit, this all for me?” you breathe. You swear Dick can hear you smirk, even as he pinches his eyes shut.

“Don’t– Ah!” he gets cut off as you start stroking him slowly. “Don’t let– let it go to your head.”

“No, I think I’ll be just fine,” you quicken your pace, not giving him a second to get ready. “If I remember right, some slut thinks he’s hot enough to get me to fuck him just by, what, batting his eyes at me? From all the way across the diner?”

“Well–” He groans, arching his back against the wall. The sweat shines against his cheeks, you feel so lucky to be the cause of it. “Well I was right, wasn’t I?”

You chuckle, caught off guard. “Guess you are.”

You briefly remove your hand, and Dick grunts, irritated, before you spit in it and go back to forcefully jerking him off. His moans grow louder, and you can see him start to get lost, eyes growing distant while chasing his orgasm.

“Are you going to come already?” you say, slowing your pace to be more deliberate, but still keeping the pressure the same. After a moment of silence, you slap his balls and he lets out a yelp that melts into a groan. 

“Answer me!” you shout, bringing your hand back up to pull at his hair.

“Ah– Yeah, y-yes!” he gasps. “You’re going to make me cum!”

“Good,” you say before you bite at his neck again, sucking a spot right under his jugular. The skin starts to deepen and you lick, tending to it before you nip at it again, just biting hard enough to draw a pinprick of blood. 

Dick screams as he cums, thrusting into your fist at an uncontrolled pace. You work him through it, matching his speed until he falls back against the wall, spent. As he slides down the wall until he sits on the ground, you walk back to one of the chairs.

“Damn, not ready for round two?” you say, propping up your head on the top rail. He huffs through his nose, looking at you for a moment like he’s checking to see if you’re real. He seems to find what he’s looking for, giggling and resting his head on his knees. 

“Oh my god, Dick, stop it. We need to go!” A tall, built man walks out of the kitchen, “Jason” according to his name tag. Looking sheepish, Dick is ready to defend himself, but Jason walks towards him, ignoring every word coming out of Dick’s mouth. 

Dick hands you a napkin, gesturing a phone and mouthing the words “call me” as he’s dragged out of the building by Jason. In shock, you open up the napkin to find his name and his number hastily scribbled in ballpoint pen. Smirking to yourself, you only wish you knew how early on in the night Dick prepared this napkin for you. You could’ve saved the both of you two hours of waiting.

[spooky-bunnys]

Title: The Fire Daredevil PART 1

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers

Pairing: Shinichiro x M.Reader

Warnings/Notes: The first part of this was written by my friend @caffine-goth-moth, and I'm writing this small series for his graduation present since I can't do anything else for him.

In the Sano household everyone is waking up to the sound of running, cleaning bottles being squirt on every surface, window wiping and brooms being swept on every floor.

Mikey being the one who loves to sleep, is annoyed and wakes up to see his older brother Shinichiro cleaning the entire house like a mad man, he’s covered in sweat, and desperation.

“Dude it’s 5 in the morning why are you up….and acting like a germaphobe?” Shinichiro who has a feather duster in his mouth, cleaning a window with one hand and scrubbing the floor with his foot stops and looks at Mikey and muffles something, “what?” Mikey is just staring at Shinichiro more confused than before.

Shinichiro who spits out the feather duster “my boyfriend is coming over I gotta make sure the house is spotless” he resumes to cleaning.

Everyone else is awake to the cleaning noise, Grandpa sano who was busy doing his crossword puzzle, rolls up the newspaper and whacks Shinichiro over the head “damn you Shinichiro your siblings and friends are trying to sleep, I’m trying to do my crossword puzzle."

Shinichiro covers his head to avoid getting hit, “okay okay I’m sorry it’s just I really want to make a good impression on my boyfriend he’s coming over and I can’t mess it up?”

“You have a boyfriend?!” Said Emma

Benkei (the only one with logic) who is looking soo confused “your boyfriend shouldn’t worry if the house is clean, you just have to make sure it isn’t messy….like your room."

Shinichiro then gasp realizing his room isn’t clean, he carries every cleaning supplies he has, and runs to his room.

Everyone just sighs and shakes his head, then they hear the doorbell ring.

Grandpa sano opens the door, (Name) who is dressed in his daredevil jacket uniform bows to grandpa sano in respect “good morning is Shinichiro sano here?”

Before grandpa sano can respond, everyone is greeted with Mikey, draken and baji screaming and yelling “IT’S (NAME) (LAST NAME) AKA THE FIRE DAREDEVIL!”

The screaming cause Shinichiro who was still cleaning to drop everything and running thinking Mikey and the others got here “I’M HERE WHOS HURT?”

(Name) immediately gasps and throws himself in Shinichiro's arms. "BABE! I'VE MISSES YOU!" The others could only watch frozen as Shinichiro soaked in the kisses given to him.

The first one to move was Mikey who almost completely jumped onto the couple if not for Draken who grabbed his gang leader just in time. Shinichiro smiled widely, loving the affection being given to him. "(Name)! I knew you'd be here early but I didn't think you'd be here until at least 6 or 7! Its not even 5:30 in the morning!"

(Name) smiled sheepishly and wrapped his arms around his boyfriend. "Well I remember you saying you wish you could come to my race one day. So I got my old man to invite you and your family to my race today!" Before Shinichiro could politely refuse, he was interrupted by his little brother and friends.

"Holy shit! Mikey you're brother is dating THE (NAME)! THE FIRE DAREDEVIL IS DATING YOUR BROTHER!" Baji roughly shook the once again frozen Mikey. Draken's jaw was on the floor again. "Y-You're inviting us to your race! Holy-" Draken joined in on shaking Mikey.

Benkei who had started to feel bad for the younger Sano male pulled him away. "Listen guys. He said Shin and his family. Not family and friends. So we wouldn't be able to join them anyways." The other two males sulk while Mikey breaking out of his thoughts cheered.

(Name) had turned towards the commotion and tilts his head. "You guys can come too. I don't have much family besides my dad and cousin. So my sponsor box is usually quite empty. But if you guys want to go to my race we'll need to head out now!"

Shinichiro couldn't get a say in anything because afyer that (Name) was ripped out of his arms by excited teenagers and even his own friends. As (Name) was dragged out by the teens and his overly excited grandfather. Benkei patted his back. "I just texted Wakasa and Takeomi. They'll be meeting us there." Shinichiro groaned loudly.

[the-palelady]

CAN I PLZ HAVE SOME HUNTER GHOST MAID READER HCS???? IM OBSESSED

anything for you my love! ( •̀ ω •́ )♡

cw ; brief mentions of blood

hunter!ghost is silent as he comes and goes through cainhurst castle, not even speaking to queen annalise, but he’ll stop to speak with you

your focus tends to be drawn to whatever is in front of you whether that be wiping dust from the candelabras, sweeping the floors, or brushing away the patches of snow that build up on the flower boxes outside

ghost likes to catch you off guard, finding your little yelps or squeals endearing

when the two of you first met, you were far too shy to say anything, instead cautiously watching him as he sauntered off with an amused glimmer in his eyes

but now that you are much more familiar with the hunter’s presence, you instead turn to playfully smack his arm, “what if thou possessed a weapon?!”

“lil’ dove like ya would never think twice to carry a weapon.”

ghost is a hunter. of course he’s clever, astute. so he knows how to roam about the palace undetected, and he uses this to his advantage

you could be completely immersed in your daily tasks, unaware that the hunter is lurking within the shadows literally 2 steps to your left or right, maybe right behind you

ghost enjoys watching how concentrated you are when it comes to your work, your brows pinching as you try to rub an extra tough stain out of the curtains or the secret little curses you let slip when you drop the laundry

despite how frail and soft you might look, you are a spitfire

ghost could return late one night from an extra bloody fight, tracking in blood and remnants of pieces of beasts flesh that stick to his coat

and you’re right there at the big double doors, hounding the hulking hunter with a broom in one hand and a feather duster in the other, the two pointed at him as if to intimidate him

he thought it was cute honestly

“milady wouldst be furious if thou sees the hall in such disarray!!!”

you would force him into the guest chambers, grabbing at his hunter’s garb and tearing it from his body piece by piece (making sure to keep the filth off of the rugs of course)

you’d have a warm bath already prepared for him, something you had started doing the first night he had come back to the castle from a hunt

ghost would never admit that it was what he looked forward to the most when returning

the water smelt of lavender, the warmth of it immediately soothing him as soon as he stepped foot into the wash tub

and you were always there, like the dove you were, nimble fingers rubbing out the knots in his shoulders and upper back

sometimes you’d secretly make him silly hats with the bubbles

“wha’s goin’ on back there?”

“n-nothing! nothing!”

he’d relax back while you continue to giggle, your nails dragging delicately along his scalp and working the soap in before rinsing it out

when you were done, you’d stand in an attempt to give him his privacy, knowing the mental and physical toll that being a hunter had to have on him. who wouldn’t want their privacy after such a long night?

but he’d reach out before you could step away, his beast like hands wrapping around the circumference of your wrist and pulling you back to sit on your stool

he’d ask you about your day although he knew you had a routine that was hardly ever broken

however, you indulged him anyway, rambling on about your day despite how miniscule it was compared to what he did

in the mornings, he can’t help but crack a smile at the neatly folded clothes that you’ve left him at the end of his bed

the subtle scent of you lingers along the the fabrics, and after a fight he’ll sometimes catch a whiff of you, the smell calming him more than the oils you use in his baths ever could

you live in this man’s head (i’m talking rent free) 24/7

he seeks you out like a lost puppy when he doesn’t have beasts to hunt, you becoming his sole source of entertainment

you’d huff and puff in annoyance as he follows you up and down the halls, simply just watching you clean

sometimes queen annalise will spot you whacking him on the head with your feather duster (the feather part of course)

it’s just been you and the queen for so long, so you secretly enjoy having ghost here, his presence a breath of fresh air

and he feels the same about you, your smile awakening something in his cold heart

sometimes he’ll steal a quick peck on the lips from you while you’re yelling about him making a mess, and you’ll go silent immediately, a look of shock and exasperation on your face

“cat go’ ya tongue, love?”

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Perhaps Eddie Munson was someone you could lean on--literally and figuratively. (4.7k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, parental conflict, poverty, vandalism, so much yearning, an accidental boner, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter nine: rest for the weary

Destroyed.

That was the only thought fleeting through your mind when you approached Eisen’s shattered door, jagged edges like rows of shark teeth. Your hand faltered, stopping just before the knob, like the whole store would disintegrate at the slightest turn.

Eddie stepped aside and gently opened the door, the bell jingling mockingly, watching to ensure that no more glass fell from the panes. “Careful,” he murmured, fingers ghosting over the middle of your back for just a second while you stepped over the threshold. Goosebumps formed beneath your shirt at his unexpected touch, brief as it was. 

Your heart lurched once more as you entered the store, the normally meticulously organized shelves now coated in spray painted tags and profanities. A crudely drawn phallic symbol, complete with testicles and pubic hair, took up most of the front of the desk. The office door bore another one with a similar resemblance. 

You were definitely surprised by Eddie’s offer to help out at Eisen’s, but nothing compared to the blatant shock on Ben’s face when he saw who accompanied you to the store. Your friend’s jaw clenched instinctively, and you realized he must have thought you brought Eddie here to confess. 

“We came to help clean,” you quickly clarified, hoping Eddie didn’t sense the reasoning behind your explanation. 

Silent tension thickened between the two men, your words your sole weapon to tear into it. “What can we do?” You asked Ben, volunteering yourself and Eddie in hopes of derailing potential conflict.

Ben cleared his throat, eyes swooping over the store that was still very much in disarray. Glass shards glittered across the floor despite his previous claims to have swept up, though you imagined that it was difficult to see clearly through his cloud of exhaustion. When he didn’t answer, you grabbed a broom from beside the door. 

“I just got off the phone with the—” Aunt Tam walked in from the office, pausing mid-sentence when she spotted you. Her lips curled into whatever semblance of a smile she could muster as she shuffled over to wrap you in a hug. Her dark brown curls brushed your cheek. 

When she pulled back, you hardly recognized her. Besides the passage of time carving wrinkles into her forehead and the bridge of her nose, her skin was free of make-up. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw her without at least mascara coating her lashes. 

“We’re here to help with whatever you need.” You swallowed the lump in your throat at the sight of her bare face, the worry now permanently sealed into her eyes. 

At the mention of a we, Aunt Tam glanced at the man beside you. Tepidly, Eddie stepped forward and held out his hand to shake hers. “Eddie Munson,” he said, posture straightening as he braced himself for a reaction. But if Ben truly suspected that Eddie had vandalized the store, he hadn’t shared that theory with his mother, because she shook Eddie’s hand without hesitation. 

“Eddie can help remove the graffiti,” you offered, and Eddie nodded. 

“Just need some WD-40,” he added with a small smile. “Maybe some steel wool if it’s really stubborn.” 

Aunt Tam’s eyes lit up, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze that leaves your bones aching. “Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion as she turned to face Eddie. “Thank you, Eddie.” She wiped at her nose with one shirt sleeve. “We should have all of that in the back, if you’ll follow me…”

Eddie nodded again, stuffing his hands in his pockets and trailing behind her. “Yes, ma’am.”

When you could be sure that both he and Aunt Tam were out of earshot, you shuffled over to Ben. “It wasn’t him,” you said under your breath. “He was at a concert that night, and even if he wasn’t—he wouldn’t do this.” You gestured at the destruction. 

Not fully convinced of Eddie’s innocence, Ben narrowed his eyes behind his glasses. “How do you know?”

“The first night he stayed at the motel, he was smoking pot in his room. And when I told him not to, he listened.” You thought back to that moment, to his smirk that had you wondering if he would light another joint as soon as you turned your back. “And even though I basically accused him of vandalizing Eisen’s—before I knew where he really was—he still brought my essay to school today.” 

Ben breathed out a defeated sigh. “Okay, fine,” he conceded, scratching at the back of his neck. “Is it bad that I wished it was him, so that we could stop worrying about whoever it was coming back and doing it again?”

You wrinkled your nose. “Kind of, yeah.” He scowled, playfulness stronger than any contempt, and you tapped the broomstick against his arm. “I’m guessing you didn’t share your theory with your parents?”

He shook his head. “My dad’s at the police station right now to see if any other shops caught the person on camera.”

“Yours didn’t?”

“Never installed any. Safe neighborhood, no need, y’know?” He rolled his eyes at his family’s naivety. “Seems like everyone else on the block felt the same way.”

You wanted to say more, to properly convey your sympathy, but your aunt and Eddie returned with the spray paint removal supplies. The broom suddenly became more interesting than ever before, your eyes glued to it as you brushed it against the floor. You didn't dare look at Eddie until he turned his back to you. 

“All right,” he murmured to himself, tossing a rag over his shoulder and placing his hands squarely on his hips. The paint cans that had been sprayed were a lost cause, the veins in his biceps pulsing as he grabbed two at a time and heaved them onto the floor with soft grunts. 

A teasing whisper tickled the shell of your ear. “Wipe your drool.” You could feel Ben’s smile as he spoke but didn’t have time to swat at him before he jogged over to help Eddie. 

You preventatively swiped at your chin, relieved that you weren’t actually drooling. And why would you be? Eddie was your friend; nothing more, and sometimes a whole lot less. The excitement you’d felt when he’d shown up with your paper this afternoon was relief, not some burgeoning crush. Your hope that he would visit the front desk during your shifts could easily be explained as an eagerness for conversation, the ultimate cure for boredom. And the way you felt your heart beating in your stomach when he’d held your hand earlier–

It was only because it had been a long time since anyone had reached for you with an intimate gesture, you told yourself, save for Nora briefly squeezing your hand just before Eddie had taken it. But there was no flutter with Nora. A surge of gratefulness, maybe, but nothing compared to what Eddie’s touch had evoked.

“Heiress?”

Your head swiveled towards the sound of your nickname being called. Eddie looked at you, puzzled and impatient. “You okay? I’ve called your name, like, fifty times.”

“Twice,” Ben said; the clarification could have been a reassurance that you hadn’t spaced out for that long, or just a belated dig at Eddie. Either way, you appreciated it.

“Do you have one of those hair tie things?” Eddie shook his hair, which was already frizzing from perspiration.

You nodded dumbly, fingers fumbling for the elastic shoved deep into the abyss of your purse. Had you been staring at him? Gawking, even, as you silently tried to sort out your feelings? 

“Thanks.” Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t draw your gaze from him as he tied back his mess of curls into a bun at the nape of his neck.

Sweep. Sweep, and stop thinking about how his stubble-coated jawline might feel beneath your lips.

This desire, this lust–it was all temporary. Fleeting. It would swiftly exit once the rush of exhilaration from his rescue fully wore off, and you would once again be content with a platonic friendship.

Your insides backflipped once more when Eddie rubbed the rag over the shelf, wiped away the graffiti, and flashed a million-watt smile in your direction. 

If you had your way, ‘moving on’ would happen sooner rather than later. 

Pristine wasn’t the right word to describe Eisen’s state when you finally left a few hours later, but the clean floor was a definite improvement. The graffiti was still visible on the shelves, but it had faded considerably with Eddie’s hard work. He stood next to Ben now, explaining how often to apply the WD-40 without ruining the finish. 

Were they friends? Not even close. But each had let down their guard an inch more, though you remained unclear of the reason why Eddie’s was up in the first place.

A weighty exhaustion reminded you that you were surviving on pure adrenaline that had been steadily waning and was nearly depleted. A gentle hand rested on your shoulder as you returned the broom to its corner. 

“Go home and rest,” Aunt Tam said kindly. “Ben told me you’ve been working nights and going to school. You need your sleep.”

“I know.” It was easier to agree than to argue, but the shop would be a mess if you had spent the afternoon sleeping. 

Your aunt cocked her head and assessed you; whether you were too tired to properly fib or just her mother’s intuition, she didn’t believe you. “Well,” she sighed, “I told your boyfriend to get you home—”

Heat crept up your neck as she gestured a thumb towards Eddie. “Eddie’s not my boyfriend.” 

Aunt Tam raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I just…he didn’t correct me earlier when I called you his girlfriend…and the looks you were giving each other…I figured…” She stopped, shaking off the notion as ridiculous. 

Because it is ridiculous, you thought. 

“We’re just friends.” That ‘just’ was cumbersome, like there was something inherently wrong with you and Eddie being friends. “We’re friends,” you amended, complete with a tired smile. 

She fixed her composure, swiping her brunette bangs from her line of vision. “Well, we can’t thank you and your friend enough.” 

She said that word like she knew something you didn’t. Worse, like you knew but refused to admit it. 

Grogginess slowed your usual fast pace, and you stepped into the subway car with only a second to spare. 

The adrenaline fully wore off once you sat down; the plastic subway seat might as well have been a plush mattress swathed in Egyptian cotton sheets. It wasn’t until you allowed yourself to sit back and breathe that the achiness crept in. Your lower back twinged; your shoulders and biceps remained tense from sweeping and scrubbing the shelves for so long. If you could feel your feet, they would probably hurt, too.

The yawn you let out stretched the skin on your face and brought reflexive tears to your eyes, and you wiped them away with the back of your hand. 

“Tired?” Eddie asked, the question warped by a heavy yawn of his own. 

You nodded, blinking a few times to keep your eyes open; your head felt like it could loll right off of your neck without warning. 

Eddie shifted slightly and patted his right shoulder with his left hand. “Rest.”

“S’okay,” you mumbled, heaviness tugging at your eyelids even as you spoke. Exhaustion had its grip on you, tight enough that you barely noticed your stomach fluttering at the thought of resting on him. “I’ll just pass out when we get home.”

But he took one look at you, at the fogginess that draped over your body like a weighted cloak, and promptly vetoed that idea. “Rest,” he said again; this time, his words held a commanding air. 

You clocked his concern, so unused to the way you ran yourself ragged until the kettle ran empty, until the match burned out. Another yawn escaped you, bringing a single hot tear with it, and any attempt to convince him that this was normal instantly became obsolete. 

Sparing yourself the argument, you laid your head atop his shoulder. His cotton t-shirt was soft against your ear, somewhat muffling the train’s clanking and other passengers�� conversations. As quiet as the subway could be at seven o’clock in the evening. 

“Our stop is—”

“I know.” The vibrations of his voice, your head so close to his throat, punctuated the reassurance. “You sleep, Heiress.”

The last thing you remembered was your grip loosening on the backpack strategically placed between your feet, your fingers unfurling from the strap as you succumbed to a dreamless sleep. 

A hand on your knee gently shook you awake just as the conductor’s muffled voice announced that the train was approaching Forest Hills, and you felt a yank on your consciousness that pulled you out of your seat and towards the open doors. 

“My backpack—” The icy panic that flooded your veins was enough to jar you awake. When you turned back, you saw that the train had already pulled away from the track. 

“Right here.” Eddie patted the bag now slung over his shoulder. Your heart rate returned to its normal beat as relief washed over your skin, a wave crashing into the surf at high tide. 

The station’s stale air covered you like a quilt, and the conductor had barely announced the grating reminder to stand clear of the closing doors before unconsciousness again hooked its claws into you. 

“There ya go,” Eddie whispered when you rested your head on his shoulder once more. “Comfy?”

“Mhm.” And you were–unnervingly so. You hadn’t been this relaxed in a long time; no moment in recent memory came to mind. The questions you desperately sought answers to–why he hesitated to tell you about the concert, why he let Aunt Tam believe that he was your boyfriend–seemed utterly inconsequential. 

You could vaguely feel Eddie fidgeting as you drifted in and out of consciousness, struggling to adjust his posture and avoid any unwarranted touch. 

Sleep transformed your body into that of a ragdoll, slumped over and limp, moving only as the train car swayed. Your limbs felt disconnected from your torso, which was why you barely registered the urgent grasp around your wrist. 

“Hmm?” You blinked awake, blurred vision sharpening to reveal Eddie’s hand holding yours. No, not holding it; he was moving it. Moving it away from the denim that creased along his inner thigh. 

“Shit, I—” Humiliation stole your words, stabbed at them with its forked tongue and left you scrambling for an explanation. “I didn’t mean to.”

Eddie’s own cheeks turned a rosy pink, as though his fingers had been accidentally creeping towards the inseam of your jeans. “No, I—I know,” he stammered, clocking the horror on your face and offering a sheepish smile. Your fingertips burned where he’d touched them, where you’d touched him.

There was no way you could sleep after that, your body far too alert despite the ever-increasing weight of your eyelids. You sat up straighter; as you did, Eddie placed your backpack on his lap. When you reached for it, he shook his head and pulled back slightly, and your brows furrowed at your misinterpretation.

“I got it,” he said, a hoarseness in his voice that you weren’t able to place. “You can keep resting.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yup,” he answered too quickly, wrapping one arm around the bag and tugging it even closer to his chest. “S’all good.”

A strange tension lingered, one that differed from the anger that pulled the conversation taut during your last subway ride home together. Eddie was physically beside you, but his eyes searched the car like he was gearing up for another round of I Spy. 

You needed to speak and move past the embarrassment that tethered you to silence. 

“Eddie?” Your voice was a whisper, barely audible over the train’s clacking and your own internal monologue.

“Hmm?”

You swallowed. “Why didn’t you tell me about going to see your old band?” 

Eddie froze, his arm still tight around your bag; for a moment, you wondered if you crossed the line. 

Finally, he spoke. “Didn’t want to.”

An answer and a non-answer simultaneously, telling you to back off. But you’d be damned if you let today’s progress be soured.

“I wouldn’t have judged you.” Slowly, you let your eyes fall on him, noticing his fingers picking at a loose thread on his jeans. “You don’t have to tell me. But just so you know.” 

He nodded, and you prayed he absorbed the reassurance as it traveled from your lips to his ears. His response was not what you expected, although nothing with Eddie has gone to plan thus far.

“Why haven’t you told your parents about school?”

He knocked you off-kilter despite his calm tone; surprisingly, there was no judgment from him, either. “I don’t want to disappoint them.” When Eddie just looked at you, palms open and brows raised, you realized you’d just answered your own question. “How would you seeing Death’s Echo disappoint me?”

“I dunno.” One scuffed sneaker squeaked against the floor. “I talked a big game about how the music industry is all bullshit and how I didn’t care about the band anymore, but…”

“You miss it,” you filled in.

He sucked his lips to his teeth before nodding. “I miss it,” he said with a reluctant chuckle. “I miss it so fuckin’ much.” 

Exhaling a long breath, he continued. “I mean, I really don’t miss being the record label’s bitch. And I hate the thought of being a sellout. But nothing beats that adrenaline rush you get when you walk on stage and the crowd is screaming your name, or when they sing your lyrics back to you. Lyrics you wrote.”

You stayed silent for a minute, letting the heaviness of his statement sink in. Important. He felt important, wanted, needed. Without saying so, it was evident that working at the motel would never give him that same satisfaction. No amount of desecrated wasp nests or perfectly glued wallpaper could ever compare to the cheers of adoring fans. 

“It’s not over, you know. Your chance to have that again.”

Eddie’s eyes locked onto yours, chocolate irises swimming with a juxtaposing combination of hope and defeat. “No one’s exactly lining up to sign me,” he said. 

“They will.” You smiled, lips together. “You’re too talented to slip under the radar.”

He returned the smile, reaching out his pinky and interlocking it with yours as a thank you. You gave it a tiny pulse in recognition. 

“The other night…” Eddie started. He still looked at you, but the twitch of his nose told you that it was harder to hold than before. “I shouldn’t have said that you’d treat your clients badly.”

“It’s fi—”

“It’s not.” Eddie’s voice was stern, unwavering, but not cold. “And I’m sorry.”

Your pinky remained wrapped around his. “We both said some shitty things that we didn’t mean,” you offered.

“Yeah.” The right side of his mouth turned up, not a full smile, but one filled with compassion nonetheless. “Forgive and forget?”

You cocked your head to give him a knowing look. “One other thing to know about New York women,” you said, “we might forgive, but we never forget.”

Eddie’s half-smile turned into a grin, and he leaned in closer to whisper. “Y’know, for a bookworm, you’re kind of a badass.” 

Trying to ignore the now-familiar tingles that accompanied his tobacco-scented breath on your ear, you resumed your previous position of your head on his shoulder, humming in agreement. There was no hiding how pleased you felt from his praise, his newfound ability to see you beyond a singular dimension.

He peered down at you, his lips brushing your scalp. “Still tired?” 

“Not really.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his seat and stretching out his legs in front of him. “Okay, then,” he murmured, and from the subtle movement in his jaw, you knew he was still smiling as he said it.

Consciousness was a drifting cloud, one that passed overhead quickly to make room for thunderous exhaustion. The storm hit the moment you walked into your room as you flung your backpack and your body onto the bed. 

Your eyes didn’t flutter closed like a fairy tale princess; they snapped shut like an iron gate, impenetrable to any forces. 

Including a clock radio alarm. 

12:09

The digital numbers stared at you, harsh and blinding, as though they also couldn’t believe the time. The alarm you’d set for 9 PM was clearly ineffective, seeing as you were over two hours late to work. 

“Shit!” Whatever spell had enchanted you instantly broke, and you jolted out of bed with such ferocity that you briefly saw stars. 

You smoothed down your T-shirt from where it wrinkled against the starchy comforter. Chalky white deodorant remnants stained the black fabric, right along your ribcage, and you hastily undressed and threw on the nearest clean shirt. 

Sleep tainted your tongue and dried saliva decorated the corner of your mouth, your slumber so deep that you’d drooled. 

“Son of a bitch,” you grumbled, grabbing your toothbrush from its place at the sink and brushing just long enough to chase away the stale taste. 

Was Mom still at the desk? Did Dad have to take over your shift? Had they both assumed you’d show up on time and left the desk unmanned for what they thought would only be a few minutes?

Your blood ran cold. Anyone could have taken a key off of the wall, could have broken into the register and taken what little money you had…

Feet flying, you push open your door and squint to adjust to the harsh hallway lighting. 

Before you did anything else, you needed to apologize profusely to whatever parent had the misfortune of still being behind the desk. Offer to do some extra chores, or take on a few hours of their shift. 

But that plan is stalled when you run into the lobby and see neither your mom nor your dad. Only Eddie, hunched over a stack of scribble-filled papers. 

When he hears your panicked footsteps, he looks up and grins cheekily. “Morning, Sunshine.”

You would have flipped him off if it weren’t for the overwhelming relief that your mistake hadn’t burdened your parents. 

“You know,” he continued, tapping his pen against his teeth, “this gig isn’t half bad. I’m almost finished with these lyrics.”

Your eyes blinked rapidly of their own accord. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up?”

Eddie snorted. He put his pen down on the desk and folded his arms across his chest. “Sweet, naive Sleeping Beauty,” he tutted, adopting a playful tone. “I knocked on the door not once, not twice, but thrice to no answer.”

“Thrice?” You raised a brow at his formal word choice. 

“Thrice.” He held up three fingers and wiggled them for emphasis. “But I figured you must really need the sleep, so…” He gestured vaguely as if to say, here I am. 

One foot in front of the other, right arm still crossed over the left and showing off a litter of inked bats, he sauntered over to you. “I believe this is where you thank me for saving your ass.”

He was teasing, though he did deserve your gratitude, but your mind only focused on the reason why. 

“My parents—”

“Adore me,” Eddie cut in with a knowing grin. “Even gave me the whole ‘any friend of our daughter’s is a friend of ours’ spiel.”

There was that word again: friends. It rubbed you raw, salt on an open wound, and it stung even more coming from his mouth. 

Eddie remained oblivious to your inner turmoil, still ranting about his successful encounter. “Maybe I should be thanking you, since this scored me some major points.”

It was a lifeline; something onto which you could latch instead of letting your thoughts spin in never-ending circles. “Well, then, you’re welcome.”

He noticed the hesitation, even without the context of its cause. “Look, you got a few extra hours of sleep and nothing happened. The place didn’t burn down, didn’t spontaneously combust, and I only accepted one bad check.”

“You what?!”

Eddie guffawed at your widened eyes. “Kidding. Besides,” he added, “you wouldn’t even know it bounced until you took it to the bank.”

“Go fuck yourself.” But the corners of your mouth turned up in a smile, betraying the annoyance you’d tried to present. 

“Will do.” He gave a small salute, two fingers to his forehead, and grabbed his papers off of the desk. “But before I get to that, we need to talk about you not going to your graduation.”

For a moment, you forgot about Nora’s comment earlier that day. It seemed like weeks ago, rather than mere hours. “I can’t.”

Eddie quirked a brow. “Can’t talk about it or can’t go?”

“Both.”

He blew out a breath, equal parts frustration and disappointment. Like he was invested in this, perhaps more so than you were. 

It was enough to pull a genuine explanation from you. “I can’t afford the cap and gown,” you said, “and even if I could, the ceremony starts at nine in the morning. That’s when I sleep.”

He nodded, incisors digging into his lower lip while he digested the information. “So…you’re not doing anything to celebrate?”

“Not having to drag my ass to classes anymore is celebration enough.” Until graduate school starts, you thought wryly, the sinking feeling returning to your stomach. 

Eddie wasn’t accepting that answer, shaking his head so his curls were a brunette blur across his face. “No. No.” His tone was insistent, teetering on the brink of stern. “You worked hard, and you should do something fun.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he considered his options, his brown eyes sparkling as an idea came to him. “Let me take you out for a drink.”

“With what money?”

He scoffed playfully. “I think I can splurge on one drink. No specialty cocktails, though.” He pointed his forefinger in your direction, emphasizing his point. “And house liquor only.”

You wanted to–more than anything, you wanted to. Each weekend, you felt taunted by the sounds of friends traipsing down the street, sharing inside jokes and making memories that would either last a lifetime or be washed away with a few more beers. It was an experience you’d never had, but there was little time for friendship outside of school. 

“I can’t,” you said finally, feeling just as dejected as Eddie looked. “My shifts start at ten.”

“So I’ll get you back by ten,” Eddie said with a shrug, no big deal. “And it’s one drink; ‘s not like you’re gonna be wasted.”

You hesitated before responding, your brain already churning out a thousand excuses to bail. 

I’ll be too tired. 

I don’t want to smell like booze when I’m working. 

I have a cult meeting right before my shift. 

“I…yeah, okay. I can do that.”

Eddie nearly did a double-take at your acceptance; truthfully, you surprised yourself. 

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure.” He cleared his throat and regained his composure with astonishing speed. “I’ll pick you up at 8 tomorrow?”

You shook your head. “The bars around here always overcharge on weekends. Let’s do Monday.” And maybe by then I’ll conjure up a solid escape plan. 

He grinned, jogging back to the desk and grabbing his pen. “Monday…8 PM…Heiress.” You watched as he wrote the words on his palm, going over the spots where the ink flow weakened. 

Eddie’s hand found yours, left fingers grasping your wrist to keep you steady, his right fingers busy decorating your skin in black ink. His tongue poked out from between his lips as he focused on writing without applying too much pressure, and you tried not to squirm whenever the pen grazed a ticklish spot.  

When he pulled back, your own palm bore a near-identical message to his: 

Monday 8 PM Eddie

Like you could forget. 

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[hwasoup]

Tale As Old As Time

playlist

art credit: marbipa hey guyyyss im backkk!! I had a great break and I even had fun with it as well, the loooonngg awaited Chapter 6 has finally arrived. Now to continue I also have created a discord server for us Miguel lovers out there, the only requirements are to simply be 18+ and that's it !!also you may get to chat with your favorite ff writers on the server !!

click on this and you'll be redirected to the server !

enjoy reading guyss !!

and dont forget to ask me to add you to the taglist !!

Warnings: some angst and lots of rotting fluff Words: 1.9k

Chapter 6: La Belle et La Bete

Later that night as the beast takes a bath…

“YOU SAID WHAT ?!” “I KNOW I KNOW…I well… we were sitting outside out at the rose garden and well.. I said that she made the world look more beautiful and if I could have a dance with her.. I NEVER expected she would say YES ?!” Miguel said as another bucket of warm water got doused over his body. He sputtered some of the water away from his lips as he wiped his face from the water. “What was I thinking Peter…” Peter chuckles “No, Miguel… It's perfect, you know that the rose has a few petals left which means that by the time the dance shall be held, you can confess your feelings for her”. Miguel gets up from the tub and looks over the curtain “I feel like an idiot…she won't ever love me anyways” Miguel shakes his body from all the water, splashing Peter in the process.

“You know she is the one”  “Oh quit it Peter..” Miguel said discouraged…”i shall see you in the morning” he said as he put on some clothes and retired for the night. Peter on the other hand smiled and left his bedroom to meet with the rest of the staff.

As Peter arrived at the kitchen,Jess was in the kitchen as always directing the dishes, forks, and knives to their respective drawers. Miles was simply watching over little Mayday, Gwen was dusting the shelves with her plumes, and Lyla was simply just chatting away with Pavitir

“Everyone, we have work to do, Miguel has finally and formally asked Y/N to a dance…. it's finally time to make this castle shine!” 

Miles cheers “and we’ll be human again !!” Jess sighed as she envisioned herself as her ladylike self “human again indeed…” Peter smiled, “When I’m human again, I’ll be good looking again, and I’ll be able to hug my baby in my arms again!” Miles cheers “when I’m human again, I’m going to run out into the garden just to feel the blood rush to my feet!” Jess chirps in “we’ll all get our chance to do what we miss when we’re human again, but for now…we have a dance to prepare!”

The entirety of the staff who lived in the castle cheered in excitement as they could finally tend and maintain their home. Pavitir, who was in the ballroom, started playing music on his keys to compose enough songs for Miguel and Y/N to dance to. Hobie, in y/n’s room, started picking and choosing fabrics in his cabinets and deciding which color suited Y/N the most as well. The brooms started sweeping, the mops and buckets started to work together to start cleaning the floor as well, the coat hangers helped pulling down the dilapidated curtains throughout the castle and replacing them with new curtains, the candles started organizing themselves onto the chandelier, and the cook had started picking and choosing courses for the dinner that will be eaten. 

______________________________________________________________

A week later…The day of the dance has arrived, and here Miguel is taking a huge bath in the tub. Soap is constantly lathered onto his fur, and dirt is removed each time until the water turns clear.

“I-I I’m not so sure I can do this…” Miguel says hesitantly. Peter scoffs “Oh please, Tonight is the night you’ll be able to confess to her, It’s now or nothing!” Miguel looks down as he has a bucket of water thrown over his body “b-but…what can I do?” Peter rolls his eyes “oh please, you have to be bold, daring, and smooth” Miguel nodded as he took note of what Peter was telling him. 

After his bath he was taken to his vanity and sat there as Peter kept on babbling in excitement “There will be romantic music, candlelight provided by Lyla and Miles and when the moment is right, you profess your love to her” Miguel sighed “oh please… how would I even know when the time is right?” Jess, who was standing on the vanity with Miles, Gwen, and Lyla all looked at him as they saw his nervousness. “Just some tips from a woman, all you gotta do is woo her with the music” Gwen pitches in “I think you’ll get nauseous when telling the truth...” Miles tries to encourage him “I think you’ll do fine sir…”

Peter looks at him and sighs “stop being so nervous and just tell Y/N how you feel because I swear you will be drinking cold tea for the rest of your life!”  Miguel gulped a little and nodded. The hairdresser finally arrived and immediately started working on Miguel’s fur, Others who worked in beauty polished his claws, brushed his teeth, cleaned his horns, and added perfumes onto him. Gwen used her feathers to add foundation onto his face and add his makeup. By the time they were all finished, they turned him around to look at the mirror and everyone’s face dropped .... clearly…the poodle looking updo and white makeup did not look great on his fur. “Ok…I-I can fix this" Peter says.

On the other hand, at the east wing, Hobie was helping Y/N getting into her golden gown. The two of them worked together as Y/N picked the design and Hobie used his magic to make the gown come to life. After Y/N got into the dress, Hobie looked at her and hummed “There sum missin ‘ere” He then looked into his drawers one more time and pulled out some gold accents. The wardrobe smiled at Y/N as it decorated her gown and added sparkle and shine “now yer ready Dovie” he says softly. Jess arrived at her door and cleared her throat “it is time...”

Y/N stepped out of her room and stood by her side of the stairs, on the other side she spotted Miguel, his mane was tied with a ribbon in the back and wore an extravagant blue suit. Y/N blushed a little at his appearance, seeing how his arms bulged out a bit from his suit and how tall and gentlemanly he stood. Miguel on the other side saw her and his heart melted, she was truly gorgeous and seemed extremely precious in his eyes. The two slowly descended from each side of the staircase and met in the middle. “Join me for dinner?” Adenira smiled and nodded as she held onto his arm and walked alongside him for dinner. The two sat beside each other and enjoyed a nice 3 course meal, the two laughed and dined and enjoyed a pleasant meal together. Eventually Pavitir arrived with a small ensemble and started playing music. Y/N heard it and smiled and got up and grabbed both of his arms “come, dance with me “she said excitedly. Miguel was just too enamored by her and got up with her to the ballroom. “Pero…no sé cómo bailar…”  Y/N smiled and brought his arm around her waist and held his hand on the other side “then learn with me” She then started waltzing with him. Miguel was a little awkward but eventually figured out how to dance with her and confidently led her and twirled her around the ballroom. Y/N was just so happy to be dancing with him and laid her head against his warm furry chest. The two waltzed and waltzed until both of their feet hurt. Once the two danced their hearts out, Miguel led her out onto the balcony and looked at the stars with her. He sat down on a ledge and nervously rubbed the back of his neck as he built some courage to speak to her.

“Y/N?” Miguel says tenderly. Y/N looked up at him and smiled as he got closer and held her hands. “Estás feliz conmigo ?” Y/N smiled at him and nodded “claro que si” she said softly but then she suddenly looked down. Miguel noticed and frowned “what’s wrong?” Y/N sighed... “Well…it’s just that…I wish I could just see my papa…por solo un momento…I miss him dearly...”  Miguel looked disheartened for her and thought about how to make her wish come true. Then he remembered…the magic mirror, He smiled at her and held her hands tightly “there is a way, come follow me!” 

He excitedly took her all the way to his room in the west wing and took her to where the rose was on the table. On the side there was the mirror. He took the mirror into his hands and handed it to her “this mirror can show you anything you wish to see” Y/N took the mirror into her hands and whispered, “I’d like to see mi papa…please” The mirror glowed yellow and revealed to her the current state of her father. In the mirror it showed Mauricio lying in bed weakly with what seemed to show that he was ill and with a fever. “No…papa…” she said worriedly “Esta Enfermo, h-he may be dying and he’s all alone” she said looking up at Miguel. Miguel looked at her with worry as well, he didn’t want Y/N to feel so anguished over her father’s current state. He took a look at the rose and looked at it with all the pain in his eyes…. he knew what to do…he knew the consequences…and he knew…that this could be goodbye... “Then...you must go to him.”

“Que?” Y/N looked at him surprised and approached him. “I release you… you’re no longer my prisoner...” Y/N looked at him with relief and with much empathy towards him “I’m free?” “Yes…” 

Y/N approached him to return the mirror to him. “No…keep it.. So you could at least have something to remember me by” Miguel looked at her lovingly and also with much hurt in his eyes. He had to take in her appearance one more time before she left, caressing her hair and watching as the locks fell from his paws. “Thank you for understanding how much he needs me now.” she said softly. Y/N’s eyes were filled with gratitude and with so much tenderness…she was afraid of never seeing him again, but at least the magic mirror would give her peace of mind if she wished to see him again. Y/N caressed his face one last time and left the room. Miguel reached towards her but stopped himself. His ears drooped and he sighed.

Jess noticed Y/N walking away from the room and she peeked in to talk to Miguel “I hope I can assume that everything went perfectly” she said with a smirk. “I let her go.” “What? But why? how could you do that Migs ?!” Jess said in shock. Peter walked in and his heart dropped as well watching the scene before him. “I had to Jessica…I did it because…I Love Her...”

Jess sighed and walked out of the room to break the news to the rest of the staff. Little Mayday sniffled “so I won't bwe a whittle girl again?” Miles hugged her tightly as he comforted her. Lyla sighed “but we were so close!” Peter chuckled to himself as he looked down dejected “After all of these years, He’s finally learned to love.”

Heartbroken, Miguel watches Y/N ride Felipe out the palace gardens and to the gates And he roared….

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[cevansbrat0007]

A Man Starved

Summary: Ari lives for the taste of you on his tongue...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Smut, Manhandling, Oral Sex (fem rec), Light Rimming, References to Anal Sex (mentioned), CMNF, Ass Slapping, Pussy Slapping, Light Edging, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: This fic is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Takes place directly after the events in Off the Market. Not beta'd. Not beta'd. All mistakes my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

You were working on borrowed time. Shaking your head, you reach for another plate as you take your time cleaning up after dinner. All that was left after you finished the dishes was wiping down the range. 

The floors looked good, which meant that you could probably get away without sweeping. You’d already convinced Ari to invest in the magic that was a Swiffer WetJet. It wouldn’t take more than a few minutes to do a quick touch-up.

Your eyes stray to the clock, noting the increasingly late hour. Ari could afford to be patient for a little while longer. If anything he was probably exhausted after the busy day you’d had, what with the shopping spree and the hour long drive back home to Bell’s Creek. 

He was probably half asleep by now. Meanwhile, you were secretly dreaming about the next time you’d be able to enjoy another one of those hand-dipped milkshakes like the one you’d had at lunch. Preferably without that damned Stella. 

Your lip curls into a snarl at the memory of your waitress. Having to stomach that heifer’s attempt to flirt with your man had left you feeling madder than a wet settin’ hen.

You yank the Swiffer out of the closet, jumping backwards as the broom clatters to the floor. Shit. Perhaps you were still a touch riled up. You’re just about to lean down to pick it up when you feel two large hands settle on your hips. 

“Yeah?” You huff out.

“I’ve been patient long enough.” Ari rasps. “Time for bed, sweet Bird.” Soft, warm lips skim along the curve of your throat, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “Let’s go.” 

“Ten more minutes and I’m all yours.” You assure him as your pulse kicks up, the familiar feeling of butterflies dancing in your belly.

“No.” That one word has your spine stiffening in rebellion. 

“Patience.” You remind him, shimmying out of his grasp while still clutching the Swiffer. “Some might even say it’s a virtue. I think I heard that in a movie or something. Can’t quite remember where, but I’d like to think it’s still a good rule of thumb.”

You continue to prattle on as you set down the mop to search for a new bottle of cleaning solution found under a nearby cabinet.  

“Already told you, baby.” Ari growls, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. “I’m all outta patience.” He reaches for you then, needing to touch you. Wanting to feel the softness of your submission as your body melts for him. 

“Ari…” You blow out an unsteady breath as your pussy spasms, your empty walls clenching around nothing. 

“You made me wait all day for a taste of you.” Your man purrs at the same time as he grabs the edges of his faded black t-shirt before tugging it over his head, revealing his brawny hair-covered chest. “You wouldn’t let me have you earlier. I admit I didn’t like it very much at the time. A man needs his fix, you know? Especially after watching you show off all those sweet curves during our trip today.” 

Frankly, even he’s surprised that he’s been able to last as long as he has. You have no idea just how close he was to snapping and simply taking what he felt was owed to him. 

Especially after he’d spent the entire afternoon fantasizing about splaying you out on his kitchen table and getting lost between your luscious thighs. He’d already gone too long without the taste of you on his tongue. 

And if Ari was being honest, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able last another minute without you – let alone ten of them. Something had to give. 

And that something was you. 

“Surely you can wait until I finish mopping, can’t you?” You whisper, scarcely recognizing the sound of your own voice as butterflies give way to raw need under the weight of your man’s heated gaze.

You’d never had anyone look at you the way he did. And even after these last couple of months together, you still weren’t quite used to it. 

“Afraid not.” Your Bounty Hunter is quick to shake his head “no”. And he doesn’t look the least bit ashamed of it either. “Time to feed me, Duchess.” His wolfish grin sends ripples of desire coursing through you, straight to your dripping core. “I’ve spent all day thinking about all the ways I plan to wreck that greedy little pussy.”

His intoxicating blue eyes dip to your waist as he growls low in his throat. You were wearing too many clothes for his liking, which meant your pink cotton panties and matching satin nightdress were about to be a thing of the past. 

“Y–you have?” You stammer as he begins to approach, his sinewy muscles bunching and moving as he bridges the distance between you. The next thing you know, he’s standing in front of you, his sinful lips hovering mere inches above yours. 

“I wasn’t joking earlier when I asked you to stay the night. I sleep best after I’ve spent the evening getting all tangled up in the sheets with my woman.” Ari leans in to nuzzle your nose with his, eliciting a quiet whimper from you. “Never had anyone as sweet as my stubborn little Bird.”

Your grip on the Swiffer goes slack as you allow it to fall to the floor, your hands going to rest on Ari’s thick biceps to keep yourself upright. Because at this point, the man’s ability to make your legs turn to jelly might as well be his goddamn superpower. 

“And I’ve never had anyone like you.” You murmur before rising on your toes to give him a swift, but meaningful kiss. “Never had my very own Beast of a man who makes me weak in the knees on what feels like a daily basis.” You’re rewarded for your honesty with another nuzzle, this one accompanied by a sharp hint of teeth, signaling that Ari was close to his breaking point. “And if you give me just two more minutes, I promise to show you just how much I appreciate – oooh!” 

Your words end in a scream when your Hunter bends down to throw you over his shoulder. Your world tilts on its axis yet again as he turns on his heel and strides off in the direction of the bedroom. “Put me down, damn you!” You screech as you pound fists pounding on his back.

Not hard enough to do any real damage, but just enough to be annoying.  

“I warned you, sweetness. I did.” Ari delivers a resounding slap to your upturned ass, loving your little whine of protest. “Told you I needed my fix. It’s just not right to let a man starve the way I have.” 

Of course he would paint himself as the victim in all of this. Nothing unusual there.

Thirty seconds later you find yourself flying through the air as he unceremoniously tosses you on the bed. You didn’t know this, but there’s a small part of him that takes special pleasure in watching you bounce on the padded surface.

After all, you’d brought this on yourself. And as such, he was certain there wasn’t a jury in the world who would convict him for all the dirty things he was about to do to your delectably curvy body. 

Ari’s head cocks to the side as he watches you sit up, your hardened nipples peeking through the thin material of your nightdress. A low hum of appreciation escapes when you reach up to readjust the silky garment, exposing even more of your cleavage.  

Oh yeah. Tonight was about to get downright filthy. 

“I suppose I brought that on myself. I should’ve known better than to…” You trail off, smoothing your hands along your sides before pulling yourself up on your knees. “Shame on me for treating you so insensitively.”

“I take it that was your version of an apology?” 

You nod sheepishly, a light blush warming your cheeks. And now it’s your turn to watch as a slow, devilish smirk spreads across your Hunter’s chiseled features.

Fuck. If your panties weren’t soaked before, they definitely were now.

“Well, sweetheart, as nice as that was…” Ari’s large hand moves to cup his impressive erection, giving himself a squeeze through his boxers. “I’m afraid I can’t accept.” He chuckles softly, not missing the way your eyes glaze over with lust as he continues to touch himself.

“Why not?” You rasp, your pink tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip. “I promise to be more mindful.” You reach for him then, intending to drag his big body down onto the bed with you. “I hate the thought of you being made to suffer all day long the way you have.” You give him your best pout, bating your eyelashes at him as you do.

It earns you nothing.

“You wanna make it up to me, Bird?” His nostrils flare as he breathes deep, almost as if he can scent your arousal. “Then I think it’s time I finally got my taste, don’t you?” His smirk returns when you nod once more. 

Your eager hands fly to the hem of your gown, lifting it over your head and tossing it to the side before your man can so much as blink. You briefly hesitate before repeating the same action with your panties, all but ensuring they would survive this erotic encounter.

“Fucking beautiful.” Ari rasps, his voice coming out hoarse. “Every single fucking inch of you.” He motions for you to turn and face away from him. “But right now, I’m dying to see you on your hands and knees for me.”

“But I–”

“Hush.” Your Beast commands, effectively cutting you off. “If you want me to believe your apology is sincere then you’ll shut that sweet mouth and do as you’re fucking told.” While there’s no bite to his words, they still make you shiver nonetheless. 

Ari smacks your left flank as you scramble to do as you’re told. Goosebumps rise across your heated flesh as you give him your back, your bare bottom on full display.

“Good girl.” Comes his silky purr. “Push that ass up for me. Now spread your thighs a little more – yeah, that’s it. There’s that pretty fucking pussy you’ve been keeping from me.” You find yourself preening at his praise, your slick coating your inner thighs.    

“I…please touch me, Beast.” You whine, your body trembling with need. “Please.” You allow your head to droop when Ari finally joins you, the bed dipping beneath his delicious weight.

But your relief, however, is short-lived.

“Tonight I’m gonna give you as much of me as you can take.” He growls, his slightly calloused palms possessively rubbing and kneading the generous globes of your ass. “And I’m not gonna stop until I’ve had my fill…”

A tiny whimper escapes when Ari parts your cheeks, exposing your drenched pussy and puckered hole to his gaze. You jump when he uses one long, thick finger to part your slippery folds so that he can toy with your sensitive little clit. 

“Can’t say when that’s gonna be, baby.” He swirls the pad of his finger over the nub, making your hips arch as white hot pinpricks of pleasure dance along your spine. “Because as you know, I've worked up quite the appetite.”

“S’okay!” You cry as you attempt to bear down, wishing he would add another finger. Or at the very least allow you to ride his thigh or something. Last time you tried that you came so hard you’d–

Your thought stream is interrupted by the sudden feeling of something hot and wet taking the place of your man’s fingers. Although you try to pull away, Ari’s grip on your hips remains steady, making it clear that you weren’t going anywhere without his explicit permission.

Leaving you with no doubt that you'd also be sporting a fresh set of bruises before the night was over.

And you can’t help the sweet moan that gets stuck in your throat when he briefly pulls away long enough spit on your tight, virgin hole before brushing his finger along the rim. “Can’t wait to take you here too.” He snarls, tracing along the seam with his wicked tongue. “Gonna make you mine in every way that counts.”

“Ooh! Christ, Ari, I fuck–!”

You’d never had a man do that to you before. Anything involving your ass had always been off limits. Until now.

A fresh wave of arousal has you trying to rub your thighs together, hoping to obtain some kind of relief in spite of your torture. Your hand slaps down hard on the bed when Ari buries his face between your thighs once more.

He takes his time devouring you, savoring your essence with each frenzied stroke of his tongue. This man planned to enjoy every sob, every moan, every cry of pleasure he rang from your body before this night was over. 

In hopes that you would think twice before denying him again. For depriving him of all your sweetness. 

“So sweet.” Ari’s eager tongue continues to lap at your passion-swollen cunt, his eyes rolling backwards in carnal bliss. “Always so fucking sweet.” The compliment comes on the heels of a desperate growl. It’s peppered by several sharp smacks, each one harder than the next.

Tears spring to your eyes as he continues to drink you down, the filthy wet sounds of his sensual feast echoing throughout his bedroom. Your hands fist the covers as you try to crawl away, only to be dragged back into position seemingly without him so much as even breaking a sweat.

“Please!Please!Oh, fuck, right there!Please!” You chant over and over like a fevered prayer. “God, yes!” 

Your voice sounds hoarse, even to your own ears. But you don’t let that stop you. Because now that Ari had seen fit to whet your appetite, you were ready for more. 

A hell of a lot more. 

You feel the coil tighten in your belly as your orgasm approaches. Sensing that you’re close, Ari tightens his grip on your hips, granting himself better access to your weeping pussy. God, you were so close you could taste it.

But right as you’re about to topple over the edge, Ari suddenly pulls away. The fucking rat bastard!

“But why?” You whine, turning to look at him over your shoulder, pleased to see your slick coating his bearded chin. His unrepentant grin making you want to scream.

“Aww.” Ari coos rather mockingly, his eyes alight with mischief. “What happened to patience being a virtue and all that?”

“Oh, you can fuck right off!” You snarl, attempting to twist out of his grasp so that you can rough him up. 

He simply shakes his head as laughter bubbles up and out of his chest. And then he flips you onto your back, parting your thighs so that he can get himself another nice, long look at your still glistening cunt. 

“Maybe later. But first, I'm gonna need another taste.” He purrs, his hand delivering a wet slap to your throbbing core. “Now be a good girl and hold these pretty thighs open for me.”

END

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[jooillusion]

hii :)))

so that photo of seungmin's back... isn't like gym sex perfect for him? like he clearly knowing that he's being watched and then flex even more and in the end we end up in the locker room... i mean, this man makes want to scratch and mark all his back 🤭

-🎱

YESSS OMG

seungmin literally has the prettiest body and i feel like he loves to show off a little (his bubble ARF ARF ARF)

ugh just imagine working at the front desk of the gym and he’d come in every day. you got the perfect view of him working out, watching his biceps bulge when he lifts weights and his back muscles fill out when he does chest presses. you wouldn’t even notice when another person had walked in and it became a common occurrence for your coworker having to scold you for not paying attention.

the first time be caught you looking, you thought it’d be the only time, your eyes quickly looking down and you having to pretend like you’re something behind the counter. when you thought the coast was clear you look up again, catching him smiling at you and shaking his head in amusement.

it became a repetitive thing though, him either glancing at you looking at him through the mirror at you watching or turning his head to see if you saw that. you still pretended to have shame though, only looking when he wasn’t paying that much attention towards you.

the more you stared though the more the warnings piled up. your boss appointed you to clean the locker rooms for the rest of the week and you were disappointed since you couldn’t get your fill of entertainment. you sweep the tile floors, cursing at your boss under your breath for having to make you clean the locker room that seemed never ending.

you were finally in the last row, wiping the sweat that beaded across your forehead, glancing at the clock that was perched on the wall, noticing that it was way past the usual time the stranger—seungmin you think due to looking at his membership—would show up and leave. you shake your head, continuing to sweep to pass by time.

“excuse me?” you hear from behind your shoulder. the voice irritated you even more since you left a sign outside of the locker room door to indicate that it was closed for now. your breathe in before turning around.

“sorry but the locker room isn’t…” you trail off, the voice belonging to him. your stop dead in your tracks, his shirt off and a light drops of sweat rolling down his arms. your eyes trail downwards, looking at his toned stomach. your eyes scan the ink that adorns his rib and finally down to the deep v-line that is cut off by his gym shorts that loosely rest low on his hips. you clear your throat again, shaking your head to regain focus. “the locker room isn’t open right now.”

you can’t tell whether or not the smile on his face is either friendly or cocky, but he looks down to the floor, leaning against the cold steel of the lockers before he looks back up at you.

“you should at least let me get my shirt out of my locker.”

“excuse me?” you scoff, setting the broom down.

“you know, with all the staring you do. do you have any humility?” he laughs, walking past you and stopping once he reaches his locker. “seungmin, by the way. did you enjoy the seungmin show?”

your words are caught in the back of your throat and you’re stuck with stuttering out an excuse. seungmin watches, digging inside of his locker for the shirt and mindlessly nodding, pulling his sleeveless shirt over his head. the slam of the small locker door shutting stops anymore words from leaving your mouth.

“maybe get a video next time, pretty girl. it’ll save you some of the trouble.” seungmin winks, walking past you and leaving you behind with a dropped jaw.

UGH AND imagine after that you haven’t stared at him since and it pisses him off a little bit. seungmin likes your attention obviously and it’d be easier to tease you the next time he runs into you, maybe asking you was his form perfect or ask you how many pull ups he did as if you knew.

but he couldn’t even do that, since he watched you like a hawk through the mirror and you haven’t looked up from your computer once, the only time being is when you would welcome people in.

yeah, seungmin was pissed.

he watches your boss tell you something that he can’t hear, watching you leave from behind the counter to grab your broom and dustpan. you made sure to show your frustrations, placing the big “locker rooms closed” sign outside of the room.

but seungmin will just do like he did last time, walk right past the sign to get his shirt from his locker.

you on the other hand is not too please when you hear footsteps again for the third time, slowly getting more and more frustrated due to the gym head bastards ignoring the big ass sign you put outside of the locker room. you inhale, ready to put bass inside of your voice at the fourth—and hopefully last—person to enter the locker room, but your words are stuck yet again at the sight of seungmin.

he looks a bit different than when you last saw him a few weeks ago, his body slightly bulkier and his abs more defined. you shut your eyes trying to show self restraint, taking another deep inhale before looking at him one more time.

“you know you can’t be in here. please leave.”

“i just want my shirt.” he says, almost emotionless. you roll your eyes.

“make it quick.” you say and he nods, walking past you to his locker. he eyes you, watching you go back to sweeping and completely ignoring his presence. it bruises his ego a little bit, but he keeps his mouth shut as he pulls his shirt over his head.

“wait,” you stop sweeping, turning around. seungmin raises an eyebrow. “can i have a little feel?”

seungmin’s somewhat bruised pride swells again. “where?”

“here?” your hand comes up to his bicep. he turns his arm towards you and curls his arm, the muscles of his arms bulging as he flexes. you give it a squeeze, your eyes widening. “you’re really strong.”

“oh yeah?” you nod your head, your hands traveling up and down his arm, giving small squeezes on the firm muscles. “you know what else i can lift?”

“what?”

seungmin moves, turning completely towards you and grabbing your waist. he lifts you off of your feet, gasping once he pushes your back against the lockers, your legs wrapping around his torso so you wouldn’t fall.

“i’ve been wanting to do this ever since i caught you in here last time.” seungmin says just above whisper, his sweatpants growing tight in the front once his mind is able to register your clothed heat against his pelvis. he knew you two had been painfully attracted to one another, but he didn’t dare make another move until your eyes were on his, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, making it crystal clear that you both wanted this.

your hands run over his broad shoulders and down the smooth skin his back, “but what if another person walks in?”

“then let them. it’ll probably be the highlight of their day.” you both share a chuckle that evaporates into the air.

seungmin buries his face into the flesh of your neck, his flexed arms burning. he doesn’t mind the burn, blaming it on himself for only focusing on arm workouts today, but your warmth and hushed breaths pay for it, leaving seungmin no room to complain.

your head falls against the locker with a thump, trying to distract yourself from the orgasm building up. seungmin angles his hips at a better angle, his cock deliciously hitting your g spot, making you squeal a little too loudly. your nails bite deep down in the flesh his shoulder blades to his back, raking over the scratches you had left not that long ago.

seungmin couldn’t hold back the sharp hiss and whine that’d been bubbling up in his throat, his hips snapping into you, shuddering at the cold air that tickles the raw scratches. his flush palms dig into your waist, holding you tighter when he feels your walls clench around him. “god, you feel so good.” he breathes out, lapping at your neck before roughly biting into it.

you feel your heartbeat throbbing out of your chest, the heavy thumps beating through your ears in contrast with the sound of seungmin’s hips meeting the back of your thighs. you pant, arms swings around seungmin’s marked shoulders as you pull him in close, panting hot onto the skin.

seungmin feels your body tense under the flex of his fingers, moving you up and down to match the movement of his hips. he roughly pushes you against the lockers in response to the tug of your warm, tightening walls, bleaching his mind blank. you’re too far gone to notice and he’s just as desperate as you, fucking you like his life depended on it as he chases his orgasm that blooms in the pit of his stomach.

the harsh thrust that seungmins hips deliver is all your orgasm needs, the loud wail that comes straight from your throat rings through seungmins ear like a bell. it’s your body’s turn to shudder as it comes undone, your eyebrows knitting together and seungmins palm covering your open mouth.

“i still need to cum.” he says weakly between breaths, sliding down your body and back to your waist. his still hips began to thrust into you again, slow enough to not overstimulated you too much but still pleasurable enough for him.

your legs snugly wrap around his torso. his hand over your mouth muffles the mewls that escape your lips, giving one, two more thrusts before he’s spilling inside of you in thick ropes.

seungmins head falls into the steel lockers behind you. he heavily pants into your clothed shoulder, his hands offering soft squeezes into the meat of your waist. you two stay like that for god knows however long, blissed out and completely unaware of the everything around you. he pulls away once his breathing steadies, lifting you up gently to pull you off his length. he helps you pull up your trousers and steady yourself before pulling up his own.

“are you guys finally done?” a voice calls from one of the far rows of the room. and you know that loud, annoying voice that likes to bitch from anywhere—it belongs to your boss.

please remember that this is a work of pure fiction.

[radioisntdead]

Not the sender for the original ask but I'm sorry I cannot help but imagine an alternative where the reader summoning Rosie is the most angsty teen ever.

They're imagining the stereotypical giant red demon with goat legs and horns- but instead there is just a pretty lady and Rosie is CONCERNED because there is a teenager in the attic of their house summoning demons, not because of any normal reason but because whatever could a child need a demon for? Do they need help? Auntie Rosie will help!

Summoning a demon but instead of taking your soul you just get adopted. If you take this seriously (you don't have to) add as much angst as you wish.

Good evening my dear! Sorry this took forever to get out! It got buried in my drafts

I added a knockoff slasher dude solely to murk the reader because, I don't know as a plot for death?? I don't remember my thoughts when sleep deprived I'm so sorry

Anyways Auntie Rosie supremacy,

Rosie & reader

Platonic

Warnings!!

This isn't my best work, it was written late at night when I was mildly delusional, death, stereotypical slasher dude, OOC

You were home alone, sat in your dark and gloomy attic surrounded by lit candles, a book you had stolen from a shady book shop was open in your hands and you had drawn a summoning circle in red paint from the dollar store.

You took a deep breath before reading out the incantation written in the book, fully prepared for something grotesque to crawl out.

Wind came forth swirling around you as the circle glowed, the sound of the wind was almost deafening, you could feel your sweater clinging onto your skin, each loose thread itching your skin

You tried your best to ignore it as you continued chanting as something rose from the circle.

Once you had finished the spell you shut your eyes as the wind winded down.

"Oh my! You're quite young aren't cha'!"

Your eyes opened as you looked up, instead of some grotesque creature with blood and horns hanging off of it, was a lady,

Her skin was gray, she was dressed in early 1900's fashion and her eyes were pitch black, like a endless void.

"Are you going to say anything or are you just going to sit there with your mouth open catchin' flies?"

She said with an eyebrow raised.

"I, shit, I'm sorry I wasn't expecting someone so pretty? I was expecting more-"

"Well aren't you a charmer! Allow me to guess, You were expecting someone more demonic looking?"

You nodded, "Yeah,"

The woman tilted her head ever so slightly,

"Well aren't you going to introduce yourself?"

This felt like a trap, what if giving your name to her would give her control of you like a fae? Probably not, but what if it was?

"Likewise, it's a pleasure! You can call me Auntie Rosie!"

"I'm [Name], nice to meet you?"

"Auntie Rosie?"

You weren't expecting the creature you summoned to be a pretty cannibal named Rosie, let alone for her to adopt you as a surrogate nibling, telling you to call her Auntie Rosie and nothing else.

She had to leave soon after you summoned her because she had 'overlord duties ' and 'A town to run' but she told you to summon her again soon.

And so you did, the next time Rosie tutted at the messy attic, saying that you should tidy up the area more if you were going to invite guests over, she asked you to grab some cleaning supplies.

You snuck down into the hall, leaving Rosie alone for a moment, you were as quiet as a mouse as you tiptoed past your sleeping suspected serial killer of a godfather, managing to make it to the kitchen to grab a few cleaning supplies and a broom before sneaking back.

Rosie hummed as she began moving boxes around, shaking her head at the amount of dust and other things that littered the floor.

"I'm back, I got a broom, dustpan, and some Clorox wipes," you say as your head popped up from the entrance,

She said taking the broom,

"Good! Now let's make this place suitable, this much dust is horrible for your health! Horrible!"

You nodded, placing the remaining objects onto the floor and carefully picking up the boxes.

"You organize those pesky boxes dearie, I'll start sweeping."

The attic completely changed from gloomy to more refined within the day.

The boxes were stacked up forming a small wall with some free space behind it, the floors had been swept and sanitized (aside from the summoning circle) the candles were replaced with fresh ones, that book that summoned her was placed on one of the boxes.

Rosie had gone back and asked you to summon her back within the hour, bringing back some furniture with her.

She brought a smallish table, two fancy looking chairs, and a rug.

Rosie said as she sat in one of the chairs you in the other, drinking tea, you didn't know where she had gotten the tea from or when it got into your hands.

"Now that makes this place far better, far far better don't you think?"

You didn't like tea all that much but it felt rude to not drink it.

You wondered if it would kill you as you took a sip,

You glanced around at the open space, honestly it was overdo, you had been sleeping in there for a couple of years now and hadn't gotten around to it.

"Yeah, it feels less stuffy for sure,"

"As it should, now that's settled why did such a lovely young lady like yourself want to summon a demon?"

She asked setting her teacup down, getting straight to the point, you choked on your tea, clearing your throat you looked anywhere but in Rosie's void-like eyes.

It was silent for a few minutes,

"It's a long story, but basically parents went missing, moved in with my Godparents, Godmother went missing, Godfather started being suspicious, pretty sure he killed them, can't prove it and I think I'm next." You said in one large breath,

"Well shit, I wasn't expecting that, that's a very messy situation,"

"Auntie Rosie dearie."

"Yeah it is Miss Rosie,"

"Sorry Auntie Rosie."

You sat in silence for a moment, you fiddled with the hem of your sweater, did she believe you? Honestly you didn't particularly believe it yourself it was all suspected.

The attic felt gloomy again once Rosie left, you were once again left alone.

"Would you like me to eat him?"

"Par- Pardon me?!"

You let out a sigh before moving to one of the boxes pulling out a throw blanket and covering the circle, no one aside from you really came up there but couldn't hurt to be cautious.

You moved to the small space behind the boxes, you open another box pulling out a few two sleeping bags, layering them onto each other and placing a pillow on it, opening yet another box you pulled out a thick blanket, you laid on the sleeping bags, curling up into it and closing your eyes until sleep came for you.

A routine began, you'd carry on like normal, going to school, working shady part-time jobs, shoplift storage safe foods at large corporations like target, and go home before your Godfather finished work, sneak back into the attic, and depending on the day summon Rosie.

Rosie was concerned to say the least, you were young, not even a proper adult yet, and you were summoning cannibals in your Attic!

Not to mention how causally there was a whole missing people who were probably was murdered thing going on, would more detail go into that? No.

Rosie truly became an Aunt to you, bringing you trinkets, hyping you up, asking if you wanted her to eat your Godfather, after all that is what you originally summoned her for, but you didn't want to risk getting moved to a different area and having to redraw the circle to summon Rosie, what if you do it wrong? What if you never see her again?

So she didn't do anything to him, listening to your decision.

You would sometimes steal or buy something you think she'd like, and give it to her during her visits, she'd typically adore it whatever it was, because it came from you!

The two of you would have tea, give each other updates on life, and the afterlife.

It was nice, but like all nice things, it unfortunately came to an end.

You ran up the stairs, throwing your backpack at him to knock him down the stairs as you pulled out the attic ladder and hurriedly climbed the ladder up before kicking down the ladder to the attic, like a slasher protagonist, you hastily moved a few heavy boxes over the hatch.

He came home early, and when you walked inside the house to sneak upstairs into your attic, nothing was said, so it was concerning when he grabbed his murder weapon of choice and bolted off after you.

You just needed to summon Rosie and everything would be alright, they couldn't hurt you if Rosie was here,

You shakily pulled out the lighter that stayed in your pocket as you heard your Godfather shout your name, banging on the entrance.

Lighting the candles you scrambled to sit beside the circle, closing your eyes you began the summoning.

The wind began pushing as per usual,

The banging got louder, you could hear one of the boxes fall,

Just a few more seconds, and Auntie Rosie would appear, just a few more seconds and you'd be free, free from this lunatic, you could get a proper job that wasn't suspicious, probably go to collage, make proper friends that you could tell Rosie about with pride, you could give Rosie gifts that weren't stolen or cheap.

Just a few more seconds that's all you needed.

The hatch flew open, his eyes widened, no words were spoken, you didn't even get the chance to defend yourself when the murder weapon of choice, which was a machete because of course it was, stabbed into you.

Rosie appeared, smile dropping the moment she saw you on the ground, blood leaking into the Attic floors, the attic that she had helped you clean up, that she spent time with you in.

Rosie's eyes locked onto your godfather, bloody machete in hand, her mouth opened, revealing her razor sharp teeth.

Blood was splattered across the walls, Rosie wiped blood from her mouth with a handkerchief before kneeling down next to you and gently lifting you up into her lap,

Your eyes were glossy, and blood covered you.

You smiled up at her as she gently brushed away the hair from your face.

You tried to sit up but couldn't,

Rosie rubbed your back, trying to make you comfortable, unsure of what she could say to soothe you, you were dying and she could do much to stop it.

"Yes [Name]?"

"Auntie Rosie?"

"I,-" you take a painful breath, your last word privileges being revoked

"Shh, it's alright don't strain yourself, Close your eyes and rest dearie."

She said pulling you closer, rocking you gently in her arms until you breathed your last.

The door opened to the empty Emporium, Rosie sat in a chair writing down a grocery list,

"I'm sorry but the emporium's closed now!" She shouted over not looking up from her list.

"Auntie Rosie?"

Her head snapped over, eyes filling up with tears as she saw the very child that had died in her arms months ago, the child that she had adopted as her own, standing in her emporium with a nervous smile on their lovely face, the child she cared for had ended up below with her.

"[Name]? Oh my stars! my dear [name]!"

She got up from her seat, rushing over to embrace you, wrapping her arms around you as tears gathered up in your eyes.

"I missed you Auntie Rosie."

"I missed ya too Darlin', now-" she broke the hug and held your shoulders

"Let's get you settled in shall we? Are you hungry? I think we have some leftover pinkie fingers."

"I forgot you were a cannibal."

Rosie had prepared you a room, far better than the attic, because it was a legit room, with proper insulation.

You were staring in a mirror taking in your new appearance when Rosie knocked on the door,

"Sweetheart may I come in?"

"Sure! Come on in''

Rosie walked in and placed papers in front of you,

"Be a dear and sign these please"

"is this a contract for my soul?"

"Close! It's adoption papers, sign them."

Good evening folks, I crave sleep, also my apologies this was requested ages ago and I just now got to it, hope you enjoyed even though it's messy, I just killed off the reader the angst isn't that angsty

I wrote the angst first then everything else

[violetszone]

This Marriage Will Break You

Pierre Gasly x fem!reader

From this request

Summary: You had to arrange a marriage contract with Pierre to cover up his old relationship. He was still seeing his ex while you were madly in love with him and according to everyone you were the bad woman in this triangle.But when your breaking point came, Pierre noticed you.

a/n: I tried so hard to make it long, It's probably pretty ridiculous but that's about all I can do (not edited writing btw)

You had to marry Pierre to cover up his past relationship, you didn't know why they chose you, you just wanted to believe it was because you were so good at acting. Your acquaintance with Pierre was based on your childhood, in fact, you grew up in the same environment as him and you liked him all your life, actually this arranged marriage made you happy at first.

But as time went on, you saw that this marriage was actually the opposite of what you expected, a kind of marriage that will upset you.Of course, you didn't have very high expectations, but you didn't expect that Pierre would still secretly meet with his ex, that you would still bury your love for him in your heart and that the fans would blame you for the separation of the two of them.

According to Pierre's fans, you were the bad woman, but no one saw what was going on inside the house and what happened was not very heartwarming. You were under pressure from your family because your relationship was not realistic, and Pierre almost never came home, when he came, he only went to his room and slept, the company said that you should try harder, and your relationship with the fans was not very good, when they saw you, they either looked at you badly or simply ignored you. Pierre, on the other hand, was enjoying his life with his ex.

Within a few months you had collapsed physically and mentally from the pressures on you, but it took a long time for Pierre, your family and the company to realize that. You were trying to take care of the house as much as you could, and one day, while cleaning in the morning, you accidentally broke a frame and that was your breaking moment. You didn't know that Pierre was at home, you sat in front of the frame and you started to cry, you didn't know why he was crying, you were just too full and you couldn't stand it, you tried to shut yourself up with a sigh, but you couldn't stop. Then the door in front of you opened and Pierre came out of his room, you tried to shut yourself up by pressing your lips together, but it didn't work. Pierre felt a pain in his heart when he saw you, he had never seen you like this and he was just realizing how much weight you had lost in a few months, he came and hugged you.

You didn't want this, you didn't want him to pity you, you tried to get rid of his arms, but you couldn't afford it and continued to cry, he hugged you and stroked your hair until you calmed down, and when he finally asked "Are you okay Y/N", you just shook your head and wiped the tears from your cheeks. You needed his attention before, not now, as soon as he broke the hug, you stood up and brought the vacuum cleaner to clean the floor. Pierre was watching you sadly, forcibly took the broom from your hand and stopped it "Stop doing that please" you looked at him angrily "What, did you think I'm in this house now? I'm sorry I won't make a noise again. You can go on with your life as if I'm not there" as you reached for the machine he pulled back and he grabbed you and walked you to the sofa he made you sit down "Do you realize what you've become Y/N? what's going on with you"

"Why are you interested right now, why are you here right now, it's 11 o'clock, don't you have to have breakfast with your girlfriend?" Pierre turned for a moment and looked at the clock and that was enough for you. You stood up angrily Pierre pressed your shoulders and made you sit down again."Y/N I'm sorry I know this marriage wasn't quite what we both expected but,pff whatever, I'm just sorry I didn't realize you were getting into this, okay now wait a minute" Pierre pulled out his phone and called the company. He told them that he had been secretly seeing his ex for months, how he neglected you, how you had become because of the pressure they put on you, he told them that he would take care of you from now on and that it was his responsibility and not to disturb you.

It surprised you that he was so interested in you, but you still didn't expect much from him.You said, "Is it over? Thanks for your help" and got up from the couch and he grabbed you by the arm as you passed him. "Get ready we're going out" you were surprised "You have to go to a party? I have to dress accordingly, you know then they talk badly about me" Pierre sighed "No, I'm taking you out to dinner, I'm going to spend time with my wife" normally you were always kind to him because you didn't have a problem with him,and you loved him but now you were tired.

"Pierre you don't have to take care of me, I'm really fine you can go about your business I have to clean the floor okay" he didn't stop you when you stood up but called after you "No you're not okay this is not the confident strong and happy woman I married and I want that woman back so I will clean the floor and you're going to come to dinner with me wearing whatever you want, okay?" You knew it wouldn't do any good to oppose him, so you just nodded at him.

On your way to your room to change, you heard the sound of the machine and smiled a little.You were ready in 1 hour, you were dressed comfortably but stylishly you left your room looking for your lipstick in your bag Pierre was sitting on the sofa waiting for you he said "you look beautiful" you looked at him he was smiling and he said sincerely you thanked him and smiled.

While you were spending time together in the restaurant, you realized that he was interested in you for real. You were better than in the morning, you felt happier, you thought you would go home after you finished your meal and got up, but Pierre took you to the beach You were surprised that he was holding your hand. "Oh right, there are people," you said to yourself, but Pierre was holding your hand because he wanted to. You sat on the dock "Thanks for the food Pierre, I'm feeling better" nodded and smiled, it was a pleasant moment. then his phone rang of course his girlfriend was calling but Pierre didn't pick up his phone.

After that day, your life started to progress like a normal marriage for a long time, you were cooking together, cleaning the house, going out and getting to know each other.One night, Pierre said that you were going to attend an important event, you both got ready in a stylish way, holding hands and got into the car. Pierre looked a little nervous you took his hand to comfort him he smiled an kissed the top of you hand.

When you arrived at the place of the invitation, Pierre opened the door for you to get off and took his hand, you went in hand in hand again, of course, because it was a famous invitation, the press was there and everyone went crazy when they saw both of you.Pierre looked at you to make sure you were comfortable.  You looked at him and smiled, after a few poses, you walked in, met and talked to the invitees. While you were chatting with someone, Pierre was only watching you, he was looking at you as if he was in love with you.

You had a lot of fun at the party with Pierre, you laughed, you danced, until the person who will spoil your taste approaches you with anger, Pierre's ex-girlfriend.You were laughing again at a joke Pierre made when someone came and grabbed you by the arm, and when you looked, you saw that it was him, of course Pierre immediately freed your arm from his hand and pulled you to him, "What do you think you're doing?" he asked angrily. "Pierre, do you realize how long you haven't been answering my calls and it's only because of this little bug" Pierre raised your hand with the ring on your finger and his own, and showed the girl, "If you remember, I'm married and it's been a long time since I finished this with you, did you hear me now, go away, and don't ever come near my wife again"

You were in shock and everyone was watching you as she walked away angrily Pierre turned to you and looked at your red arm. "Are you okay, did she hurt you a lot?" you nodded as if to say i'm fine "Pierre everyone is watching us can we go home" He looked around nervously, but when he turned to you, his gaze softened.He stroked your cheek with one hand then took your hand and took you out of there.

In the car, neither of you spoke at all, but it was clear how angry Pierre was, which frightened you a little.When he suddenly stopped the car and turned to you, you almost banged your head forward due to the sudden brake and your eyes widened in fear, "I'm sorry Y/N. But I have to say this, I won't let that woman come near us again okay won't spoil your mood" You nodded, but you couldn't believe what had actually happened."you were serious when you were angry with her ,you don't see her anymore" he just nodded.

"I haven't seen her since the day I promised to protect you.I should have done this sooner though" you smiled at him "Thank you" he looked at you "For what?" you watched him for a while "For being with me, by my side" He reached out and took you hand "Of course we're married after all and I have to take good care of my wife, and it wouldn't be right for me to know that my wife is madly in love with me and make her suffer like that"

Surprised, you pulled your hand back "You knew" Pierre laughed "Of course I knew Y/N, imagine if anyone else had gone through what you went through, they would have divorced me on the second day" what he said was right the reason you put up with him was because you fell in love with him.Pierre approached and took both of your hands, "I apologize to you with all my heart, will you let me love you as you love me" you nodded happily.

In the months that followed, everything became more beautiful than you had imagined. You had a real marriage with Pierre. You both loved each other very much. As Pierre promised you, you never saw that woman again.After the fans learned the truth about Pierre's ex, they started to treat you more kindly. You had the comfort of walking hand in hand in the paddock with Pierre.You two were happy.

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

@gaslysainz

[mochis-cream]

23:55 — choi san ♡

・ cleaning up after a party is a necessity, it always has been. and yet, as tedious as it may be, as tedious as the whole process may be, you find that you really don’t mind. in fact, you’ll do it time and time again just to make sure he knows he’s loved, and to put a smile on that beautiful face

c.s x gn!reader ・ ateez ・ 에이티즈 ・ sfw ・ non!idol au ・ wc: 932 ・ genre -> fluff, slice of life?? ・ one shot! -> masterlist!

content warning: established relationship, birthday boy san, kissing, lots of fluff me thinks, one singular curse word, lowercase intended, not proofread, let me know if i missed something!

author’s note: yoo employment is crazy dawg 😭 like wdym i don’t have enough free time to actively be working on my own personal projects 😰 so yeah this definitely isn’t getting posted while it’s still his birthday 😞 but hey! it’s still his birthday in alaska, yeah? that’s gotta count for smth right?

“bye! thanks for coming!”

the night winds down as you gently usher the last party guest out of the house, exchanging tired yet happy goodbyes. the door clicks shut behind them, and you lock it, letting out a sigh of relief. turning around, you survey the battlefield residing in what was once your living room. streamers hang limply from the ceiling, confetti is scattered about like glittery snow, and popped balloons lie sadly around the floor. and there, in the dead center of your living room, draped over the couch like a cake-covered renaissance painting, is san. he’s half asleep, a mix of frosting and confetti adorning his face, and he looks like a complete utter mess.

you sigh again, this time out of resignation, and grab a broom. starting with the confetti, you sweep up the colorful pieces, the crunch of paper underfoot filling the quiet room. next, you gather the popped balloons, their deflated forms serving as a stern reminder of the earlier chaos. fallen cake chunks are carefully swept into a dustpan, and you mop up the frosting smeared across the floor, each swipe of the mop bringing back a bit of the room's former glory.

with the house now looking somewhat presentable, you return you equipment to their rightful locations and then turn your attention to san. he’s now fully asleep on the couch, one arm dangling off the side, his face still a frosting-covered mess. fighting back the urge to groan, you tiptoe past him, heading to the bathroom, and return with a wet towel. despite the mess, the sight of him makes you smile—he looks so peaceful like this you almost don’t want to disturb him. and yet still, you carefully climb on top of him, straddling his hips. you give his nose a gentle peck, smiling as you lick the frosting off your lips. san stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. you begin to gently wipe his face with the towel, the cool water making quick work of the remaining frosting. about halfway through though, san starts to wake up, his hands almost instinctively finding your hips.

he mumbles something about the towel being cold, and you can’t help but laugh softly. “mornin’, sleepyhead. did you sleep well?” you ask, your voice barely concealing your amusement.

san chuckles, eyes still half-closed, and nods. you continue cleaning his face, but he starts shifting beneath you, making it a bit difficult. “hold still for a moment, sannie. i need to get the rest of this frosting off,” you say, trying to sound stern yet failing completely.

san, ever the playful one, shakes his head and swiftly swipes some frosting from his lips onto yours, a mischievous smile spreading across his face as you nearly splutter around his fingers. “ah- come on, san, seriously?” you say, half-exasperated, half-amused. you could hardly complain though, it wasn’t like the frosting tasted bad. it was your favorite.

and just as you begin to lick the icing off your lips, san's free hand cups the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss. his tongue sweeps across your lips, licking off the remaining frosting in the process. the kiss is sweet and lingering, and when he finally pulls away, it's just enough to whisper, "thank you for making my birthday special." his words are sincere, filled with warmth, before he pulls you back in for another, gentler kiss that nearly sends your heart tumbling out your ass.

despite not wanting too, you force yourself to pull away first, instead opting to give him a soft kiss on his forehead. you don’t miss his little blissed out eye smile as you climb off of him, grabbing his arm and hoisting him up off the couch with you. as he stands, most of the confetti clinging to him falls off, fluttering to the floor in a colorful shower. you both laugh at the sight.

"don't worry, i'll clean it up later," you assure him with a smile. "let's go to bed now, kay? you promised your sister you'd spend the day with her tomorrow."

agreeing, san follows you to your shared room. you both change into your pajamas, laughing at how tired you look in the mirror. finally, you climb into bed, snuggling close to each other, the warmth and comfort of being together enveloping you both.

after a moment of peaceful silence, san speaks. his voice is quite, vulnerable, and filled with an emotion you recognize wholeheartedly as love. “seriously, thank you so much for today. i couldn’t possibly have asked for a better birthday. you always make everything feel so special, i’m so glad i met you. thank you.”

you couldn’t stop smiling even if you tried, and your heart all but burst within your chest into a puddle of sunshine and rainbows. “of course, sannie. you deserve this, you know? i want to make sure that you always feel loved by those around you, and that the love you give is returned to you tenfold. whether it’s me, or your family, or your friends, we won’t stop until we’ve put the whole world in your hands.”

san's eyes are red and glossy when they meet yours, his voice fragile and tender. “i know. thank you, i love you.”

you return his sentiment with a gentle squeeze. “i love you more. now go to sleep, okay? you have a long day ahead of you. goodnight, my love.”

“okay, yeah, goodnight.”

with a final kiss to the crown of his head, you both drift off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Hot or Cold

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!reader

Summary: You work in a coffee shop, and when you are trapped in the fridge during a robbery, you can only hope that your boyfriend Deacon will find you.

Warnings: armed robbery, violence against reader, angst to fluff & hurt/comfort.

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

“How’s the handsome boyfriend?” your coworker asks as you wipe down the front counter. “Still dreamy and treating you right?”

You chuckle at the thought of Deacon not being dreamy or treating you right, an impossibility. “Yes, he is.”

The bell over the door of the coffee shop rings, and you abandon the conversation about Deacon to do your job.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask… does Deacon have any single cop friends?”

Reading the name on the latte you just prepared, you shake your head. If you were in her place, and she had a boyfriend like Deacon, you’d want to know where to find one.

“Thanks,” the man says as he takes the cup.

“Have a nice day!” You turn toward your coworker to answer, “Honestly, I don’t know. Street’s still in his ‘will-they-won’t-they’ thing with Chris, Tan is, well he’s Tan… the new guy might be single.”

“I don’t know who any of those people are.”

“You shouldn’t. I can check for you though; if I’m right, you’d be cute together.”

“Is he as easy on the eyes as Deacon?”

“Nope,” you answer with a smile.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Man, I would kill for an espresso after that,” Rocker groans.

Luca waves his hands in a ‘stop talking’ motion before Deacon hears any reference to coffee. Luca loves you, but Deacon has difficulty stopping once you’re mentioned.

“Too bad you don’t have time,” Deacon answers instead. “We got another call. Up, buddy.”

Rocker rolls his eyes before standing.

“What now?”

“Another bank robbery. You should’ve gotten a coffee when you had the chance; it’s going to be a long day,” Hondo answers.

Deacon nods at the idea of coffee, a picture of you making him feel a little more awake.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What is going on today?” someone asks, sitting back after a mad rush.

“Are you referring to the caffeine addiction of Los Angeles or the continuous sirens? Because I have no answer for either,” you answer, leaning on the counter.

“All these sirens and no single cops or firefighters to accept my number,” another voice sighs, joining your small huddle.

“Why don’t you guys head out early? I can close up, I know it’s been a long day,” you offer.

“Are you serious?”

“Sure. You can just cover for me when I don’t want the early shift next weekend.”

They weigh their options before you get a group hug and overlapping expressions of gratitude.

“Yeah, yeah, get out of here,” you mutter, shoving them toward the small locker room-like area at the back.

“You’re the best!”

“I know.”

As the door closes, their voices fading into the alley, you take a deep breath. You feel like you’ve been on the move all day, with people in and out without a break. Your phone shows no messages or calls from Deacon, but you hope to see him tonight.

“Okay,” you whisper to yourself, pushing off the counter as you prepare to close.

You lay your phone on the counter and turn on some quiet music, focusing on getting finished and home to Deacon’s house as soon as possible. The counters are cleaned, and the dirty dishes are loaded into the industrial-sized dishwasher, so you're nearly done. As you begin sweeping the floor, someone opens the door.

“Sorry, we’re closing,” you say, moving toward the door to lock it. “The Starbucks down the street is open all night.”

“They have better security,” the man replies, keeping his foot pressed against the door so you can’t close it.

You drop the broom and step back, reaching for your cell phone on the counter to call for help. The man barges in, locking the door behind him as he points a gun at you.

“Don’t move,” he demands.

Deacon is in your favorites list, so it would only take two taps on the screen to call him. You raise your hands before stepping toward the counter. You don’t get to your phone before the man hits the back of your head, knocking you into a nearby table. Holding your ribs, you try to stand but kick a chair on accident and fall to the floor.

“Are you going to keep being a problem or can you sit there and be quiet?” the man asks with his gun at his side.

“I’ll be quiet,” you answer lowly.

He cocks his head, looking around. Stepping back, he slides your phone behind the counter so you can’t reach it easily.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you,” he says, pushing you back on the floor.

“No,” you mumble, trying to fight him off of you.

“And you said you wouldn’t be trouble,” he almost growls, bringing the butt of his gun and the hard side of his hand down on your temple.

The impact disorients you; all you can do is grab his hand as he hauls you toward the walk-in fridge. When he pushes you inside and winks before closing the door, the severity of the situation finally reaches you. 

“Don’t do this! Take whatever you want but let me out,” you scream, banging on the large metal door.

Your head pounds with each movement, and when you graze your hairline with your fingers, you hiss when you reach the broken skin. Stepping further into the fridge, you shiver under the vent and sink to the floor, fighting dizziness and nausea as your head aches. With no way to call for help, you should try to stay warm, but the pain in your head and fear that no one will find you until morning influence you to close your eyes.

Outside the fridge, the thief sings along to the song playing from your phone as he empties the cash register into his small bag. Nodding at his earnings, he steps toward the door before taking the last muffin out of the display case.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon glances down at his watch. You have a habit of offering to close after long days, but even if you stayed, you should be getting home about now. Deacon smiles at the thought of you doing what you usually do: passing your driveway to pull into his own. You’ve been neighbors almost as long as you’ve been dating, though his house seems to be a landing place for both of you.

“20-David to command,” Hondo radios from inside the bank. “We’re Code 4.”

Deacon sighs, lowering his weapon and standing from his hidden position. He pulls his phone from his pocket, surprised to see no notifications from you. Maybe you had a day like he did.

Rushing home to hold you after a long day, Deacon slows beside your driveway, nodding when he sees it empty. But, when he sees your car isn’t in his driveway either, his brows furrow as he wavers between surprise and concern.

Shifting his car into park, he presses your contact, waiting until he gets your voicemail. He texts you to call him ASAP, and after a minute with no acknowledgment, he calls you again. Taking a deep breath in his attempt to stay calm, he dials the number for the coffee shop and prays to hear your voice. The line beeps before your recorded voice greets him.

“Answer,” Deacon begs as the dial tone begins again. “Hey, Luca, I need your help with something. You got a minute?”

“Yeah, of course, anything for you, man,” Luca replies.

Deacon says your name before running a hand across his mouth. “She’s not home and she’s not answering her cell phone or the coffee shop line.”

“Anywhere else she’d be?” Luca asks, shuffling on the other side of the line.

“Not this late. I’m going to drive over to the coffee shop,” Deacon adds.

“We’ll meet you there. Street and I are only a couple blocks away. We’ll find her, Deac.”

Deacon thanks him as he backs out of his driveway. The coffee shop is a ten-minute drive that feels like an eternity.

✯✯✯✯✯

Street and Luca are coming out of the alley when Deacon rushes onto the sidewalk.

“Hey,” Street greets. “The lights were off when we got here. Back door is locked, and her car is still here.”

“Did you try the door?” Deacon asks. 

“Not this one; we just got here,” Luca replies.

“Thank you for coming so late.”

“Of course. We’re here for you and her, Deacon.”

Deacon nods, taking a deep breath as he pushes the door open. He glances at Luca, who tilts his head in concern. Luca and Street enter behind Deacon, their hands at their sides and ready to pull their weapons if needed. There’s quiet music playing from somewhere in the building, and Street nods to Luca as he breaks off to find the source.

“Deacon,” Street calls quietly. He stands from behind the counter and holds up your phone.

Deacon swallows harshly, looking toward the back.

“Let’s clear the building and we’ll go from there,” Deacon instructs quietly.

Street and Luca nod, moving slowly and silently until they’re sure the building is empty. Deacon turns on a light in the back, frowning when he sees your bag in its regular storage spot.

“The cash register is empty,” Luca calls, his voice raised after concluding there is no immediate threat.

✯✯✯✯✯

You hear a voice outside and blink rapidly, forcing yourself to focus. With your arms wrapped tightly around you, your shivers are growing in strength as you grow weak and disoriented.

“Where- go- night?” someone asks, their voice breaking as you strain to listen through the thick metal of the fridge.

The voice sounds familiar, and you summon what little strength you have left to bang on the door. It’s quiet, and as your hand slides down the cold metal, your blinks slow.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Wait,” Deacon demands, raising a hand to quiet Luca and Street. “Did you hear that? Something made a knocking noise.”

He walks toward the fridge, the only place they didn’t check during their initial sweep. Luca nods, standing behind Deacon as Street unlocks and opens the door. Deacon sees you slumped on the floor and rushes in. 

“Dea- David?” you mumble, your eyes lidded as you look up at him.

“Hey, yeah, I’m here. I got you, sweetheart,” he soothes, laying his hands on your shoulders.

“I’ll call it in,” Street says before reporting the robbery and requesting an ambulance.

“We need to get you out of here,” Deacon says quietly, pulling you against his chest.

He stands slowly, cradling your shivering form to his chest. Once Luca closes the fridge, Deacon sits on the floor, taking his jacket off and wrapping it around your shoulders. He moves you gently to make sure all of your clothes are dry. Sliding his fingers onto your pulse point, he calculates your heart rate with a frown.

“Hypothermia?” Luca asks quietly, passing Deacon a nearby jacket.

Deacon nods, laying it over your hips as he lets you lean against him.

“Ambulance is here, Deac,” Street alerts. “Is she okay?”

“She has to be,” Deacon and Luca answer together.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon and Luca follow the ambulance in Deacon’s car while Street returns home, telling the team what happened. They sit together in the waiting room, sharing their concern and sympathies without speaking.

A nurse exits and says your name, smiling as Deacon and Luca rush to her side.

“The doctor wants to talk to you. Relatives?” she asks.

“He is,” Luca answers. “I’m just a friend.”

“Then I’m going to ask you to wait here.”

“No problem. We’re here for you, Deac.”

Deacon nods, whispering, “Thank you,” as he follows the nurse into the hospital.

“You found her in plenty of time, sir,” the doctor says with a kind smile. “She’s suffering from hypothermia and some surface-level injuries. Despite that nasty bump on her head, we don’t see any indications of a concussion.”

“Thanks, doc. How bad is the hypothermia?” Deacon asks.

“We caught it very early. She’s warming up; temperature was right around 94, so it isn't too severe.”

“Can I see her?”

“Of course. Let me know if you have any other questions, and I’ll be back by soon.”

Deacon steps into your room quietly, looking at you with a sad smile. Dressed in the thin hospital gown with heated blankets and heat packs on your chest and neck.

“’S not as warm as you,” you mumble with your eyes closed.

Deacon smiles, pulling a chair up beside your bed. “Working better though,” he says quietly.

You turn your head toward him and smile as you open your eyes. “Thanks for finding me. It wouldn’t be as much fun to get in trouble without you around to save me.”

“Well no more trouble for a while, okay? Because that was terrifying.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Robbery is working on catching the guy.”

“He stole my muffin.”

Deacon chuckles before offering, “I’ll make you a whole batch to make up.”

“You should’ve been a baker, not a cop.”

“I’m not sure I’m the house-husband type.”

“Trophy husband for sure,” you correct with a nod. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you get discharged, Deacon takes you back to his house, and you notice that someone has moved your car back to your driveway. After getting you comfortable on the couch, Deacon begins rushing back and forth, doing everything the doctor recommended and then some.

“Deac,” you call when he rushes by again.

He stops and backpedals into the living room. “Do you need something?”

“Yes. I need you to sit with me. You’ve done more than enough, and I just need your company right now.”

Deacon smiles and whispers an apology as he sits beside you, holding you close. You cuddle into his side, focusing on your favorite movie. When you kick the blankets off, barely moving as you struggle, Deacon stops himself from acting again.

“Need help?” he asks, running a hand down your spine.

You nod slowly against his chest, and he reaches across you to remove the blanket.

“Want to you want for dinner?”

“Not hungry.”

Deacon looks at his watch, furrowing his brows when he notices it’s been nearly twelve hours since you ate at the hospital, and who knows how long before that.

“You really need to eat something,” he urges kindly.

Your weight increases on him as you shake your head and close your eyes. When your forehead hits Deacon’s arm, he’s surprised to feel how warm you are. He retrieves a thermometer from the small care kit he assembled in his concern-filled frenzy.

“You have a fever,” Deacon tells you. “It’s pretty high, so I’m going to call the doctor.”

“Stay here,” you mumble, grasping at Deacon’s shirt.

He wraps his arm around you, tugging you closer as he raises his phone to his ear.

“Hello, this is Deacon Kay… Yes, ma’am… She has a fever of 103.2, she’s not wanting to eat, and she’s very weak... I will. Thank you.”

“What’d they say?” you ask as he sets his phone down.

“They think it’s probably just the stress of what you went through, or maybe an upper respiratory infection from the cold. I’m supposed to keep you hydrated, medicated, and happy, and call if anything changes.”

You nod, nuzzling closer to him as he chuckles. It doesn’t take much coaxing from him to convince you to take some medicine, drink lots of water, and take a few bites of your favorite food, especially when he promises to hold your hand through it all.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you wake up the following morning, wrapped in Deacon’s arms, the fever is lower but not gone. 

“More water,” Deacon demands.

“You’re bossy.”

“Trophy boyfriends are allowed to be.”

“Trophy husband,” you correct.

“Are you proposing?” he teases.

You take a minute to consider before asking, “Would you say yes?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Then you just wait until I feel better, Kay.”

He smiles, pulling a lightweight blanket over you as your fever finally breaks.

“You’re still worried,” you accuse, sitting up to look at him.

“Of course, I am. I came home and you weren’t here, and then weren’t answering your phone. It’s only because of Luca and Street that I was able to find you without panicking.”

“Then we should have them over for dinner to thank them. Although, I know you would’ve found me without them.”

“I’ll always find you,” he promises.

“Even when I can’t decide whether to be hot or cold?”

“I love you either way,” Deacon replies, matching your tone as he kisses your forehead.

[nat-1-whump]

Whumpee was a capable magic user, having cultivated that skill their whole life. So, naturally, they took liberty in exercising it every change they got. From teleporting rather than traveling, to using telekinesis to carry heavy things, to using illusion spells to pull lighthearted tricks... it was a wonder they ever had any energy left to cast more spells at all.

However, they were injured and had to be hospitalized. The doctors put them on magic suppressants, warning them that using magic could be unpredictable, or even dangerous, in their vulnerable condition. It was safest to take their powers away for the time being.

Whumpee did not take this news well.

One evening, Caretaker went to visit Whumpee. Whumpee had seemed particularly upset with their loss of magic last time Caretaker visited, so this time, they brought them a stuffed animal. Hopefully it would comfort them, at least a little bit, as they recovered.

They expected to find Whumpee frustratedly picking at their bandages, or in a restless sleep, as usual. But when they opened the door, they found Whumpee knelt down on the floor, sobbing over a shattered mug.

Caretaker hurried to set the plushie on the bed. They crouched down next to Whumpee, and put a hand on their shoulder. "Hey, it's alright. I'll help you clean it up, and we can get you a new mug, okay?"

Whumpee sniffled. "I-I can't even fix a stupid cup..." They cried.

Caretaker instinctively glanced towards Whumpee's hands, worried that they'd cut themself trying to pick up the pieces. They were initially relieved to see that Whumpee hadn't, until they realized that Whumpee must have tried---and failed---to use a mending spell instead. That must be why they were crying now. "...Fix it? Whumpee, no... You can't. Not right now. Look, I'll go get a broom to clean up the pieces, and-"

"No, I want to do this..." Whumpee looked up at Caretaker, their eyes reddened and tearful.

"Whumpee, you can't, remember? They-the doctors, they put you on magic suppressants until you get better." Caretaker wasn't a magic user themself, so they wondered what it was like to lose magic powers after using them for so long. They figured it probably threw poor Whumpee's system all out of whack.

Whumpee considered for a moment. They looked at the broken mug, then back at Caretaker. "Wait, I think... I think I can force a tiny bit, just a little..."

"What do you mean, 'force?' Whumpee, I really don't think that's a good idea." Caretaker tried to take Whumpee's hands in their own, but Whumpee pulled away, focused on the broken mug.

Whumpee picked up a few pieces. They ignored Caretaker's protests and closed their eyes, chanting a mending spell under their breath. Their brow furrowed, as they seemed to strengthen their resolve to cast the spell.

To Caretaker's disbelief, a faint light began to flicker from Whumpee's palms, the glow peeking out from under the ceramic shards. A couple of pieces began to shudder, clinking as they seemed to gravitate towards each other.

Suddenly, the pieces went still. They clattered to the floor as Whumpee's arms fell limp. Like a reflex, Caretaker grabbed Whumpee and pulled them into an embrace before they could collapse into the pile of sharp pieces. The ceramic shards glittered in the light from the window, as if to taunt them.

"Whumpee!" Caretaker felt a warm trickle against their chest, and gently turned Whumpee's head up to see a stream of blood coming from their nose. They shakily pulled Whumpee up and took them back to their hospital bed, struggling to carry their limp body. After draping Whumpee over the blankets, they found a paper towel and began to clean the blood off their face.

Whumpee's eyes fluttered open as Caretaker wiped their bloody nose. "D-did I do it?" Their voice sounded distant and groggy.

Caretaker's heart broke. Whumpee sounded so hopeful. "No, Whumpee. Your cup's still broken. But you have to rest, okay?" They instinctively put a hand on Whumpee's chest to push them down, fully expecting Whumpee to try to pull themself out of bed.

Instead, Whumpee only stared up at them, defeated. Caretaker noticed the dark circles under Whumpee's eyes and was about to ask when they last slept, when Whumpee's gaze wandered past Caretaker to the floor.

Caretaker followed their eyes to where the fragments of ceramic seemed to glow in the fading sunlight. They felt they should leave Whumpee's side to clean it up, but now, such an action felt too... final. They figured it would only make Whumpee feel worse, watching the pieces they tried so hard to fix get swept up and dumped in the trash.

A sniffle from Whumpee pulled Caretaker back to the moment. They looked down to see Whumpee's eyes well up with tears. Wordlessly, they squeezed Whumpee's hand.

Whumpee pulled their hand away and curled themself up on the bed, hiding their face behind their knees. Their sniffling turned to full-on sobbing.

Caretaker gently stroked Whumpee's hair, trying to find the right words. "Whumpee... You need to rest. Nobody is expecting you to start casting spells again so soon. Not after all that happened."

Whumpee peeked over their knees. "It hurts. It feels like they took something out of me and it messed everything up."

"I know... But you'll feel better once you sleep, yeah? And the more you rest, the sooner you'll be recovered enough to handle your magic again." Caretaker pulled the blankets up to Whumpee's shoulder and handed them the plush toy they'd brought earlier.

Whumpee moved their legs away from their chest, exposing their face as they clutched the stuffed animal. Their momentary comfort gave way to worry. "What if I forget how to use magic while I'm in here, though? W-what if I'm never able to use magic again?" Their lip started to quiver.

Caretaker gave Whumpee a warm smile, though their eyes held a look of pity. "I'm not sure, Whumpee. I don't know a whole lot about magic... How it works, what it takes to learn it." They patted Whumpee's shoulder. "But whatever happens, I'll stay by your side every step of the way. I'll promise you that much."

A small smile formed on Whumpee's face. Though they still seemed worried, Caretaker's reassurance calmed their nerves somewhat. They closed their eyes, squeezing the stuffed animal against their chest.

The two rested quietly in the hospital room, the shadows stretching higher up the wall until the orange sunset outside had darkened to a rich purple. Once Whumpee dozed off, Caretaker swept up the broken pieces. They sat down next to Whumpee again and gently placed a hand on their cheek.

Whumpee mumbled contentedly. For the first time in a while, their sleep seemed... peaceful.

[notthecutesttrash]

Grey (Pt. 2)

Warnings: Verbal + physical bullying, angst, language

Word count: 5.9k

PART 1, PART 3

In the morning you're about to run out before you see a little note next to a sweetly wrapped bento box on the kitchen table. It read, "I hope he likes it (: - Love mom."

God, that is so embarrassing.

But If your lies truly made her that happy, then fine, you didn't have the heart to stop it. You're just going to have to suck it up and wipe food out of your hair later.  

Atsumu gazes longingly at you the moment you tread in carefully. He's even more smug looking then usual, if that's even possible. Worse is remembering that he's going to be coming by your house after practice. The nervousness spreads at the thought. You hope it runs late, or maybe he'd change his mind and decide it was weird. 

Or maybe he could just ditch you and leave you with all the work. That idea didn't seem so bad anymore. 

Why didn't you say Saturday or even yesterday? You had more than enough time. 

The bell rings signaling a break. You grab your lunch and sigh.

The group of girls pass and Kiyoko sends you a grave scowl as if threatening what she'd do to you if you didn't follow. You stand up and exit the classroom, tailing behind them.

With a serious expression Atsumu observes their movements until you all leave.

Kiyoko leads you to one of the bottom floors no one goes to and signals a motion with her head. "Storage closet, now." You open the door for them, head lowered to the ground. 

How pathetic. You're practically giving them an invitation to bully you.

You're slammed into the wall causing a topple of brooms and mops to fall at your side. Kiyoko holds you by your collar, and you still have your lunchbox clutched hopelessly in your hands. One of the other girls pulls it from you. There's a laugh when they share a gaze at the wrap. 

"How cute. Your mom gave this to you?" One of them remarks, and you hesitate when the lid snaps open. 

"Must've been. It looks disgusting." 

Your back lifts then is slammed again, your head bouncing and hitting hard against the wall. Your knees collapse beneath you and an instantaneous sting is felt on your cheek after being slapped. Kiyoko's foot slams into your side and you hiss at the pain. 

Just like that, your mom's sweetly cooked meal meant for your nonexistent crush pours over your head.

"And to think your poor mom is wasting her time cooking for you, what a waste." 

The noodles are squashed into a mush at your scalp, mixing into your strands. Another kick hits your knee hard and you instinctively clutch it with a groan. A laugh erupts, and the empty box is slammed to the side. The door opens and they speak one last phrase to you that has you flinching. 

"Just go die already."

Kiyoko scoffs when you say nothing, and the door closes. 

A numbness swallows you whole. 

You cried all your tears already, it wasn't anything new. The handle of one of the brooms falls into your lap, and a slop of spaghetti falls onto your shoulder. You glimpse up at the flickering ceiling light. 

You'd usually take a few minutes to mull over the state of your life before you'd eventually get up, dust off your skirt, and go to the bathroom. 

Cleaning the mashed noodles from your hair was as rough as cleaning out bits of wet rice grains. One by one, you pick it out, all while being forced to stare at your reflection. You hate how you look, and you wish you didn't have to see your pitiful face every time you went through this process. 

Cold water pools into your hands and you splash it against your face. Wiping the sweat and grime off your skin was probably the only refreshing feeling that came of this, even if it was still pathetic. Your stomach growls. 

"Yeah, I know.." You mutter to yourself, grabbing your bento to rewrap the cloth just as it was. All pretty and nice so your mom would never know how mistreated it was. Slapping your cheeks, you forcefully bring yourself to reality before going to class. 

Your hand presses against your cheek, memorizing the glass window next to you. The trees are swaying, and it hurts a little that nothing in you even cared anymore.  

"Why does she always smell like food every day?" A whisper is heard behind you. You sigh. 

Thank god it was Friday. Even if 2 days at home didn't change anything from this reality, it was the only small escape you had.

Lazily waving, you greet your coach and the captain before starting practice. Lucy is the only one nice enough to grin at your arrival. You put your knee braces on and warm up. Your body is sore but you're still determined to stay on the team. This is the last hope you have to prove everyone wrong, you don't plan to mess it up now. 

You take your position in the back and try to remember what Atsumu taught you. Knees bent at this angle, arms showing the front more, hands positioned like this, and you got it. When the whistle sounds you glue your vision to the volleyball. It flies over the net and you sidestep towards its direction. 

Holding onto your breath, your arm touches the ball and sends it flying into the air. Lucy gasps and woo's, “Nice receive (Y/n!)" It takes you a moment to remember the game is still in play, but you're smiling happily. Miyu sets the ball and Angie spikes flawlessly against the blockers. A gleam sparkles in your eye. 

"Don't get all excited, it was just one receive." Angie huffs, turning to you. You nod and get into position again. Lucy is serving, and hers are always difficult. Still, you don't back down, and you achieve your focus on the direction of the ball. It appears it's going to hit the side. Quickly it swerves towards you instead and you manage to bump it. Angie is blocked by two on the right, the left is covered by 1, and the center is in the back. Miyu jumps and eyes the left which makes the center switch direction. 

With a thud, the ball falls to the ground. The whistle blows, pointing to your side, and the other groans. 

"Seriously, a dump shot!?"

"I'll say, you even had me fooled." Lucy giggles, stepping to the next rotation. 

Serve after serving you're effortlessly receiving the ball, and the excitement in your legs keeps up with the action. The adrenaline was making your heart stammer. You jump high to receive. Another spike is slammed your way and you dive, hitting the ball only with your wrist to send it shortly in the air. "Sorry! Cover!" 

Miyu runs to your side and smacks it with her palm to send it up. It’s a little high, but Angie manages to spike it from the back, scoring a point. You throw your hands up in the air, wooing. Angie shoots you a small glare, annoyed, but not as harsh as the other days, and Miyu has a barely noticeable tug at her lips. The coach crosses his arms, seeming pleased. 

You finally are back into your game. You aren't going to be the black sheep any longer. 

Arms receiving a hard spike, the ball returns to the other side and Lucy spikes with all her might through the hands of 3 blockers for a perfect line shot. You run just in time and you attempt to receive it but it hits your side and bounces off. Combined with the kick Kiyoko sent you, it hurt a little more than you would've liked. A hiss escapes. Of course, just in time for Lucy to serve as well. 

The volleyball is set in the air, and Lucy jumps to smack it down. It’s so fast your arms miss by a second and it flies past you. They score a point, and you breathe deep and concentrate. Lucy repeats the action, but you're there just in time for the ball. As you receive it, the force pushes you back and you hear a crack in your foot as it bends to the side. Groaning in pain, you clutch it desperately and the coach calls for a timeout. 

"Are you okay (Y/n)?" A few teammates ask and you nod forcefully, pushing yourself to stand only to fall again. Lucy holds onto your hands to help you up and the pressure on your ankle cries out. 

The coach has you sit on the bench. "It's just a sprain, no worry. Sit out for today." 

There's a deep frown on your face. Fear and disappointment cascade on you. You're definitely going to be kicked off now. 

The coach turns to you while you're lost in thought, wrapping your foot. A mind deep down a rabbit hole. 

"You did well today." His tone is firm, but you know he means it. Surprised, you fixate on him and he's staring at the game ahead. A blush dusts your cheeks and you continue wrapping the sprain, a happiness blooming in your chest. 

When practice ends you timidly apologize to Lucy who is walking your way. She pats your shoulder, "You did good today, don't worry. By Monday you'll be brand new again." You nod, blushing at the compliment.

"Thanks." 

Comfortable silence falls, and you're just about finished wrapping your foot. All the girls left already, and you test your steps carefully, lightly applying pressure to your foot. It didn't hurt as bad with the cover which was good enough for you to walk home. You start humming happily while packing your things, completely lost in the clouds. 

"Ready to go?" 

The sound makes you squeak in fear. Your hand presses to your stammering pulse, and you see Atsumu smirking at your surprise. 

You already forgot that was today, and you nervously shift your tone.

"Oh.. yeah.." 

He waits for you to be a step in front of him so you can lead. God, why did you choose this option again? Yeah, maybe the girls would've been at the library, but they wouldn't do anything if he was there. You made the wrong choice. Ugh.

The walk is painfully awkward. it's silent, and feeling him at your side alone makes you incredibly nervous. He's pretty big and muscular for a normal volleyball player. 

You perk to the sound of leaves swaying in the wind. Softly smiling, your hands grip your bag. You did something good today, the coach said so himself.  This gives you the courage to speak. But.. mainly because the silence was becoming unbearable and you'd rather small talk at this point. 

"How was.. your practice?" You shyly ask, and he appears a little surprised at the question. He snickers, and you pout. You knew it was a stupid question.

"Good." 

Great keeping the conversation going (Y/n). It felt more unpleasant than before now. 

He has that usual smirk, but his face looks relaxed. He takes his turn to speak. 

"Heard you been receiving good now." 

How fast does word get out? Sheesh. It must've been from one of the girls who hated you.

You scoff. "Let me guess, Miyu talks to you. Angie maybe?" 

"No. Lucy. She seemed happy for you." Your face switches to shock. "I'm surprised honestly. Expected you to get kicked off the team. But I guess with my advice you made it hm?" He's annoyingly arrogant, but you're so caught up in the thought of Lucy being genuinely happy for you, her speaking to others about it, that you can't even notice. Your skin turns pink and warm. 

"Yes, thank you."

He stops in place, and you're still walking, trapped in a daze. 

"Hey." His harsh tone is enough to fearfully draw you out. You rotate to him, scared. Is this the time when he remembers who you are and bullies you? 

Unexpectedly he pulls you close and his fingers graze your damp hair. You flinch at the contact, nervous, blushing at the closeness. He wanders beneath the layers as if searching for something. You're nervous, but you ease at the softness. You don't know what he was doing, or why, but it felt quite nice. 

He swiftly pulls away and you blink up at his index and thumb that holds a piece of smushed-up spaghetti. You go blank, and he's staring at it the same.

He opens his mouth to speak. "Why do you have food in your hair?" 

This was just about your luck. 

"Oh look, my house is around here. My mom probably cooked dinner, I don't want to keep her waiting." Walking fast, you ignore him and keep your bag tight against you. He catches up to your speed promptly, silent, and your teeth grit against one another. You ignore him and fixate on the ground until you reach your home. 

You stop in front of the home and bite your lip when your hand hovers above the doorknob.

Now you had to worry about your mom and dad embarrassing you even more. 

You exhale a shaky breath. You just needed 1-2 hours, maybe even 3 and that was it. This would be done with, and the shame will die with you.  

"Don't look so worried. I'm pretty good with parents." Atsumu has almost a relieving confidence in his voice 

You nod and open it, instantly being greeted with a warm light. Your mother’s back is facing you, and she's at the stove, cooking. Your father wasn't home yet, he typically didn't come back till later. 

"I'm home!" 

You already know the moment that she turns around she's more than excited. Atsumu trails behind you, wearing a fake pleasant smile, and her eyes go wide.

"Miya Atsumu, a pleasure to meet you." He bows and your mother gasps. 

"Oh, my-" You send her a quick glare that says don't you dare say anything bad. When Atsumu rose you fell into a smile again, giggling awkwardly. 

"Come in dear, make yourself at home. You two must be starving." Your mother was already preparing the plates at the table.

You wave her off. "No Mom, really it's okay, we're fine." 

She huffs, "nonsense. Come Atsumu, sit." Your brows knit together, and you open to deny the second time before Atsumu interrupts you.

“Actually, Miss (L/n) I am rather hungry, may I ask what you're making?" Atsumu walks ahead while you're stuck dumbfounded at the doorway. You scowl as he cozies up to your mother, and he returns your look with a smirk. 

“I'm so glad you asked! It's one of my favorites actually." Your eye nearly twitches as he sits down, acting as if he's so intently listening to your mother ramble.

"It's rude to gawk (Y/n), sit down." She draws you out of the daze with a more serious tone. Yet you swear she's giving you the same smugness as he is.

You grumble incoherently, forcing yourself to sit down. Your mother stirs the food a little longer and then switches the heat off. Across from you, Atsumu is snickering quietly and, you're responding with a hardened glare. Once your mother turns, both of you are quick to politely beam as she sets the food on the table. You all share a pleasant thanks then begin serving yourself. 

As awkward as this was, the moment the food touches your tongue, you're buzzing in delight. Your empty stomach greatly appreciates this.

"So tell me Atsumu, did you enjoy her lunch today?" Your mom chirps in. 

You cough out, almost choking on a few grains. Your mother is smiling sweetly, completely oblivious. Here it was, this facade is going to be destroyed now. 

"Yes actually. The spaghetti was wonderful." Your eyes widen as you fixate on Atsumu. He's mimicking that kind expression to your mom. and she's reveling in the fake news. 

"You're going to catch flies if you keep gasping like that (Y/n)." She scolds you out of nowhere and he chuckles politely. You force yourself into normalcy, clearing your throat and eating, Truthfully you're greatly appreciating the lie Atsumu told.

You watch in your peripheral as he cracks a small joke that sends your mother chortling, a little too much. Although embarrassing, it was pleasant. He seems strangely at home and comfortable.

Atsumu offers to clean the dishes when dinner is finished and your mother waves him off politely. "No no, I couldn't ask you to do that. Don't fret dear, you two go upstairs and work on that project." 

He nods, his tone filled with sugar. "If you need help at all, call me."  It'd be convincing if you hadn't known how conniving he was.  

"Oh my, what a nice kid." She nearly fangirls and you cringe. Once he rotates to follow you off to your room, that smug expression returns. 

He lets out a tired sigh once the door closes, like being that fake was exhausting, and his eyes quickly turn serious. Admittedly, the thought of having him sit this close with you in your dimly lit bedroom, all alone, makes you feel.. sort of strange. You sit at your desk and take out your notebook, signaling for him to do the same

You're about to talk about the project details until you turn to see his darker expression. His tall stature or muscular build only aids in the way you shrink in comparison. 

"Want to tell me why your mom asked me that?" 

You still, mouth agape as you thought of what to say. Anything you'd say would only sound more pathetic than what he already thought of you. What could you think of that was better than your current situation? Gnawing at your bottom lip, you struggle to come up with a good answer.  An awkward minute passes and you're still silent. 

He slumps down next to you and sighs.  "Fine, don't tell me." 

You underestimated the space he took with the chair placement and his knee brushes up against your own. You pull away instantaneously, clearing your throat. His arm is nearly caressing yours and you shift uncomfortably.

“Um.. so, what part do you want to do?"  

Atsumu ignores you to stare at your little pink standing pencil holder. His view then shifts to the stuffed animals on your bed, the color of the sheets, and the pink or rainbow pens you held. He stifles a giggle, and you turn a dark shade of red.

"Didn't think the teacher’s pet would be this type." 

You shyly twirl your pencil around as you meekly ask, “What type?" 

He leans back and smirks. "Pink, rainbows, little animal prints, you know, sort of the type to fangirl and go crazy over stupid things." 

You mutter, annoyed. "Well, I’m not… I just like cute things."  

"Good." He yawns obnoxiously, and you huff.

He is clearly getting way too comfortable, way too fast. If you didn't work on this now you'd have to do this weird meetup again. You peer at him expectantly. His hands cradle his head, elbows pointed out to opposite ends of the room. "Right." He remembers casually. "The project." 

You nod. Yes, back to the topic at hand, finally. 

"I already finished my side." He smiles and you blink in shock. 

"What..?" 

"Did it after practice yesterday, you know the day you were out "sick." He emphasizes that in a knowing way. 

"Then..." You trail off, unable to find your words. 

"I wanted to see if I was right about you. I have to say I’m pleasantly surprised. I expected neutral colors, not even a speck of dust, and zero decorations. I guess you're not as stuck up as I might've thought." He arrogantly speaks, and you're barely able to wrap your head around the situation. He acted like he wasn't done with his side, came over to your house, ate your food, cozied up to your mom, and entered your room, all to.. see your personality? 

You ogle at him like he has 4 heads and he laughs. "Relax, it wasn't all for that, I'm not here to stalk you. We still gotta work together, it's not like i'd just be here for you alone." That comment kind of offends you but you ignore it.

It's quiet for a moment, and you straighten your back against the seat. "So.. what do you think I am then?" 

He hums, then smirks. "You're a good girl. Sweet, and hardworking." 

That shouldn't have made you blush like it did, and you avert your attention back to your work. Don't forget this is the man who made you cry only 3 days ago. He's just here to do minimal work and bully you. 

"So.. do you want to merge our parts? Maybe you read mine, I read yours?" 

Atsumu shrugs and takes out his notebook to slap it down in front of you. You give him yours and you open up his to find multiple pages, back and front of written work. He really worked hard on this. 

He snickers at your shock. "Did you forget I have more skills than just volleyball too?" He taunts, reminding you of your previous comment. You frown.

"Sorry," you mumble. 

You read from the top, and a few sentences in you're hooked to the way he writes so eloquently. The style is neat, and for being such an arrogant jerk all the time, he paid attention.

"It's not bad." Atsumu regards yours while flipping through the pages. "But you can work on your voice a little more." 

You're visibly confused, and he further elaborates. 

"This sentence, "if he was going to be out all day, then maybe he would-" it's too much over-explaining. You're losing the point in your nervousness." That is true.

"Just write "He is going to be out for the day." You glue to his words, nodding absent-mindedly. You lean to your notebook that's positioned closer to him, your arm brushing his unknowingly. He quietly fixates on you, and you point to another sentence. 

"So.. like here, if I got rid of the "practically" or "really," then it will make the sentence more clear in this case?" You look up at him, eyes twinkling with some sort of excitement. He gazes for a little too long, and after a few seconds, he clears his throat.  

"Yes." 

You ah, but then slump. 

"I like saying really's though. I feel like it puts more emphasis on something. Like if I were to say... I love ice cream! I'll say I really love ice cream, so they really understand how much I do." Your tone is energetic in a way he's never heard, and he can't help but smile. 

"They'll know you do, just saying love is enough. Really, makes it a mouthful. Just make it simple. I love ice cream." The way you listen so intently to him has his eyes softening. You move to erase and rewrite, your lips pursing a little in concentration. 

"Does that sound better?" You point your pencil to the new sentence, and he leans down to read it. 

"Perfect." 

You giggle a little and he gleams.

You blush and nervously fidget when you realize how hyper you're being. Your tone is a little more timid now, but it's eager as you point to another sentence.  "Does this work together?" 

"Try removing the "therefore." 

Nodding, you hop back and forth between his writing and yours. His wasn't flawless, but you admitted, it was really good. He was so clear when he spoke, so to the point and confident, whilst yours was all muddled and scared.

You point at his sentence and compare it to one of yours. Erasing, you rewrite a sentence and shift the words around. You're so focused one would think he wasn't even there. 

He's smiling and it begins to be a very pleasant exchange all up until he had to go.

Yet, after the exchange on Friday, no texts were exchanged with one another. You completed the project and that was that, no more communication.

There's a strange disappointment lingering in your chest. You wanted that, so why did it actually kind of hurt? Your mom even left you another nice lunch covered by a pretty wrap with a note nearby saying "packed extra for you and Atsumu to share (:" Shaking your head, you force yourself to move on to more important matters. All you need to focus on now is avoiding the group of bullies.

The bell rings, forcing you out of your thoughts. Rotating your head, Kiyoko catches your eye, and she grins evilly. She begins to remove herself from her desk. Here we go, you sigh.

You expect any minute for her to pass your desk, but she doesn’t, and you turn around, confused. 

Kiyoko’s mouth is open in a gasp, and she’s paused, eyes glued to something moving. You follow her frantic view only to swiftly mimic it.

Atsumu was walking to you, directly to you. No, there was no way, right? That had to be wrong. He pauses a few inches from your seat, his hand holding his lunch. “Figured we’d polish our projects before tomorrow.” 

“O-Oh, yeah of course.” You pull the notebook out that you had just packed up, and as you do that, you shoot a glimpse over to Kiyoko and the girls. She glares back at you a fit of fuming jealousy that knits her brows tight together. You’re relieved sure, but the fear of what they’d do to you once the period ends and you have 0 protection sets a pang of discomfort in you. But.. at least just for today, you can eat your food and not have to return to class with wet dirty hair.

When you’re not looking, Atsumu eyes the girls and they jump, their expressions changing from scowls to fear. They swiftly turn away. 

“Here.” Atsumu places his bento on your desk, and you blink, confused. 

There’s his smug smile, but it was softer strangely. “We wouldn’t want to disappoint your mother.”  

You blush. Right.. that was true. He picks up yours in the cute cat wrap and chuckles at the pattern. Those were also now softer, and you hated to admit that it sent you the right kind of anxious butterflies. He unwraps the box and opens it, finding just enough food for 2. He is taken aback, yet eases quickly after, smiling sweetly. The sweetest you’ve ever seen, it's like you weren’t even meant to see it. 

You shyly unwrap his and before opening it you nervously look at him. Opening your mouth to speak, his hand gestures to you. “Don’t ask if I’m sure or not, just eat it.” Although his tone was firm, it wasn’t as harsh as it always was either. You nod timidly and open it. 

The smell of fried shrimp, sushi, and rice hits your nose. It was delicious looking, and after not having a good lunch for about 2 weeks, tears nearly protrude from your eyes. 

“Thank you!” You hold your hands together and grab the chopsticks greedily. You slept late again. The dread of going to school last night kept you up enough to not be able to eat a proper breakfast again, so this was heaven-sent. 

He takes a bite of your food and then pauses when he sees you scarfing up his meal like it was your last. Eventually, you catch him staring, and your face goes red. Bowing your head you shout, “Sorry!” and nonetheless, continue aggressively eating. He snickers to himself. 

A few women in the class are almost frozen, their eyes deep-set in hatred and growling.

“He refused the lunch I made for him..” One girl mutters sadly to her friend who is also sunken. 

“She’s eating his lunch.” Another girl across the class whispers. 

“The nerve of her. He probably cooked that with all his time and love, and she’s inhaling it like a monster!” You’d think tears were running down this one’s face, she was that dramatic. 

You clear your throat and place the cover onto the empty bento. The embarrassment is only now rushing to you when you realize Atsumu is only halfway done. 

“Um.. thank you.. for sharing.” 

He hums in acknowledgment while chewing on your mother’s cooking. “Tell miss (L/n) I loved it.” You blush and nod. 

“I will..” 

Kiyoko was practically twitching in a fury. She would get you back for this, whether you liked it or not. 

Usually, you take your time to pack up your things once class ends for the day. You were always the last one out, but that always gave you some peace of mind. The hallways had a few students aiming around for who knows what, and there were no noisy bells or chatterers. 

Today is a good day. Your stomach is happy, and you’re able to bring home a realistically empty lunchbox to your mother. No lies are to be created about how you shared it when you truly didn’t. Your hair is perfect, your clothes are clean, and you have a dull ache in your chest as you think of Atsumu sitting by you and eating. Why? You aren’t sure. 

But you’re humming joyfully, feet walking slowly as a smile stains your face. Your foot is healed now, so you’ll be able to play. With the advice he gave you, you’re receiving plenty too. Prancing outside, you take a turn, making your way towards the gym, now nearly skipping in delight. The trees are wavering again, and the smell of sweet grass pierces your smell pleasantly. 

You’re about to take another turn until you hear a voice that makes you stop dead in your tracks. 

“What is taking so long?”

“Are you sure she didn’t take another route? Or go home for that matter?” 

“She’ll be here, relax.” 

Your heart speeds in your throat, and your feet feel anchored to the ground. They don’t see you yet, if you run they won’t know. Just turn back now, quietly, and you’ll be free for today. Walk slowly and avoid them.  You silently rotate your legs, afraid even the dirt beneath you will make an obvious sound. 

Your eyes meet with one of the girls in your class, and you frightfully gasp. Her hands are on her waist and she’s smirking. Your shoulders are shoved hard and a yelp escapes as you fall to the ground. It’s enough for Kiyoko to see your figure, and that same devilish grin stretches ear-to-ear. Panicking, you try to scramble away only for one girl to step behind you and threaten any further movement. 

Kiyoko meets your terrified eyes, and she’s snickering, tilting her head. 

“What, you thought you wouldn’t get your treatment today because Atsumu-san sat by you?” she scoffs and you’re shaking your head desperately.

“You know he only is doing this because of the project right? Tomorrow it’ll be back to normal, he won’t care anymore, and you’ll be treated the same old again.” Kiyoko giggles, and you’re eyes are still wide in fear. 

Your shoulders are being held down by the girl behind you, and Kiyoko’s smile suddenly drops. A slap makes your chin turn from the impact, the sting burning into your cheek. 

“I thought of something fun today.” Her hands grab at something behind her, and there’s a sharp gleam as she fixates on you. She pulls out a pair of scissors and you flinch when she holds it up to your throat. She reaches around to pull your hair, angling your neck into it. You don’t dare gulp or inhale, and you’re gritting your teeth at the pain of her fingernails digging into your scalp. 

She angles her lips at your ear, whispering darkly. “I’m going to make you look more hideous than you already are. Then no one will look at you.” 

Her tight grip leaves. You breathe in relief before she grabs a fistful of your locks and opens the scissors wide.

It’s about to snap shut on your hair before she speaks again. “If you talk to him again I’ll-“

“You’ll what?”

Kiyoko’s fingers waver, and she immediately becomes as stiff as a board. Her breath hitches, and your view is blocked by her body until she moves to the side, her grip on your hair escaping. Instantaneously the pressure on your shoulders releases too. 

Atsumu is there, standing a few feet away from your forms, hands pressed to his waist. His eyes are serious and he’s not even smiling like he always is. You’re just as surprised, and you almost fall back to the ground without a stable grip on your shoulders. 

“Ah,” he hums, a fake unpleasant lightness in his voice. “I knew well this was going to happen after I disturbed your little lunch get-together.” He tilts his head to the side, the ending of his words darkening. “Didn’t I?” 

Kiyoko and the women are stammering, shaking, unsure of what to do or say. “A-Atsumu! I-I-” He motions his arm up, and his expression dulls coldly as he makes a closed fist. They mutually shut their mouths like they're being trained.

“To think you squealing pigs made me miss out on practice because of this.” His tone is low, an unquelled irritation bouncing in each syllable.  They flinch, unexpecting him to sound so harsh. He sighs, slumping his form. It’s silent for a few seconds until he looks up again, a grave darkness shifting in him.

“You disgust me. Now get out of my sight.” His words come out like a screech in the silent atmosphere, and their breaths halt in their throat. 

The one behind you instinctively dashes on her heels and sprints fast. Another near Kyoko does the same, a third following her until she is the last remaining. She stands peering at you and him, and he’s glaring as if prepared to rip her to shreds.  

A frustration boils in her face and she forces herself to throw the scissors onto the ground, making you flinch. She can’t even muster a sharp glare as she looks at you. Instead she seems frustrated, ashamed, and hesitant. Her fists ball and clench tight before evidently leaving.

You’re still stuck replaying the horrific scene, and a terrible silence erupts. Atsumu’s glower disappears, and he’s suddenly above you, holding his hand out to you. 

Pathetic… you're so pathetic. 

You smack his hand away and his eyes widen. 

“I don’t need your help.” 

You pull yourself to your feet even if it hurts, revealing your back to him.

Anger. Embarrassment. Sadness. Disappointment. When you would go home today, you’d Slam your bedroom door shut, curl into your sheets, and weep into your pillow.

But for right now, your soles remain anchored to the ground, adamant on showing him that you aren’t just going to be a baby and cry, even if tears are threatening to escape. 

You spoke as firm as can be, your voice cracking a little. “Just go away.” 

It takes a moment before you can hear him finally walking away. All you can imagine is that his uncaring smirk is back like nothing happened.

A minute or two passes, and when you’re sure he’s gone, tears stream down your cheeks. You wipe them with the end of your sleeve, sniffling helplessly.

You just want to go home.