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kooktrash · 9 months

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lace & luxury | kim taehyung

summary: Money, Money, Money, must be funny in the rich man’s world. At least that’s how you feel working day and night to make end’s meet and still never having enough. Out of nowhere you get roped into a give and take relationship with a very powerful fashion designer who shows you the way into a life of luxury and lingerie. You’ve become his muse and in exchange he’s become your source of pleasure and riches. It’s a rich man’s world and you’re living in it.

➣ genre/au: sugar daddy!taehyung x exotic dancer!reader [she/her, female anatomy], taehyung aged up

➣ 13.6k words

warnings: smut. tae is 31 oc is 21. a lot of teasing. mention of NDAs. he’s a bit cold to everyone else. oc is an exotic dancer. oc dances on Tae a couple times. Tae adores oc. lavishes in gifts. protected sëx. oc is confident af. oc has belly button piercing. Tae is very handsy. jk and Hobi are oc’s besties so a lot of locker room talk between the three. oral [f receiving].m. multiple positions. missionary. mating press. and riding. an open ending but also I feel like y’all know what’s gonna happen

THE BILLIONAIRE’S CLUB

Money does not buy happiness.

Money does not bu—

“Fucking hell,” you groaned in annoyance as you hit the machine in front of you. The vending machine seemed to mock you with its silence even as you pushed the button for your drink a dozen times. There was a clear sign above that said not to hit the machine yet here you were beating the shit out of it with your foot.

Three dollars. It just took three dollars and refused to give you your drink. What a fucking con.

Money doesn’t buy happiness but you know that if you had that nice and refrigerated fizzy drink right now you would be at least .05% happier than you are now. With a defeated sigh you gave the vending machine one final ‘fuck you’ and left. Listen, you’re not a moody person [not usually] but you’re stressed, broke, and hungry… and now annoyed.

“You’re stressing over a drink or three dollars? I can’t tell,” Jungkook asked you as you stood at the entrance to work still thinking about earlier, “Go get a drink from Hobi and once you get on stage you’ll make more than 3$ quickly. No biggie.”

“It’s about the morals, Kook,” you sighed, “In this country even the vending machines are capitalists, taking money from the poor and not giving us anything in return.”

“It’s fine, you take money from horny rich people, speaking of which if you don’t go get ready, boss will throw a fit,” Jungkook said, pushing you forward and cutting your talk short. You whined in frustration as you did as told and headed to the dressing room.

You were a bit dramatic, you know you were. It was just three dollars but damn did that piss you off. You haven’t eaten a single thing since you were working a full day waitressing and now you’ve got to get on stage and dance on an empty stomach. You just paid rent and your stupid student debt bills and now you’re very broke. After tonight you’ll surely have way more money but it doesn’t change the fact that this is a common problem you have.

During the day you waitress and at night you dance at an exotic club where the clients treat you like some dress-up doll they touch whenever they want and stuff crumpled dollar bills in your lingerie because they think it’s sexy. You loved to dance, that was not the problem, it was the people you danced for and why you did it. If you had the money to finish off school you would have a degree by now in fashion marketing but instead you’re stuck with two jobs struggling to pay off loans and reach ends meet. It was exhausting.

“I heard about your drink dilemma,” Hoseok said apologetically as you got to the bar already dressed in lingerie waiting for your cue. He handed you a glass meant for whiskey filled with the fizziness of caffeine and you thanked him profusely before chugging it down.

“But if it makes you feel better, a group of very wealthy looking young men just walked into V.I.P,” he added. You released a content sight as you handed him the empty glass, “I’m not in the mood to be groped tonight.”

“So just the stage? Got it,” he said and you gave him a soft smile as you heard your stage name be called and you left.

“You need to loosen up, get some inspiration even,” Jimin said with a chuckle as he led Taehyung by the shoulders into the red night club. He’ll admit it’s above his expectations but at the end of the day — or night — it’s still an exotic club with women in lingerie unlike he’s ever seen. He should be used to it by now but he’s not. He’s too stressed to even enjoy whatever his friends had planned for him tonight.

“How about that one?” Jimin asked pointing to a dancer who was currently sitting on the lap of an older man wearing the ugliest Rolex watch Taehyung has ever seen. He just shook his head and kept his gaze forward as they went to a V.I.P section close to the stage.

Here’s the thing, Taehyung is new to all of this but at the same time he isn’t. Being the eldest grandson of the one and only original creator of the luxurious lingerie brand, Erotes: Sexy, Sensual, & Surreal, you would think he’s more used to this by now and he is. He’s used to the designs and fashion shows that his grandmother and mother would put on but to be the one in charge of it all now? That’s an entirely different ball game and he’s failing miserably to come up with something for the spring catalog. In truth, his younger sister should have been the one to take over but unfortunately that wasn’t the case and now they’re both unhappy with the outcome. He’s 31, he’s thankful to be able to get in the position he’s in at the head of his own empire but he’s just struggling. How is he supposed to find inspiration to follow their footsteps?

“Next up is the loveliest of them all, Venus, with her sensual movements you’ll have no choice but to fall to your knees, worshiping her like the goddess she is.”

You nearly gagged on stage at your intro as the lights went black and you stood at the center of the stage ready to walk forward when the song started. To clarify, you didn’t choose the stage name.

Some bottle girls brought expensive liquor to their section but Taehyung wasn’t paying attention anymore. He’s not sure when he tuned out how the night was going until you came out on stage. It wasn’t your introduction that drew him in but it was the sudden shift in the air that made him take in what was going on. The lights had gone off with only a red and blue hall above your head and it was the first time he took notice in one of the dancer’s he’s seen tonight.

He didn’t know where to look first, his eyes went from your feet which were in tall crystal heels to the length of your smooth legs before stopping at the first hint of lingerie he could see. You wore baby pink panties under a sheer babydoll dress and you looked simple yet elegant, like the stage was where you belonged. Your hand trailed up from your thigh to your stomach lifting the frill fabric for anyone’s watching eyes and he watched you dance, entranced for the first time tonight.

The lingerie was cute, it was simple and appealing to the eye but it wasn’t for you. He could see it in your strong gaze, this wasn’t right for you. You should be in a dark color that matched your strong presence and the desire you brought upon whoever watched you. You needed something that showed more, less concealing. He can picture you in a garter belt, pearls around your neck maybe…

The way you moved seemed to captivate every single person in the room and Taehyung especially.

By the end of your performance Taehyung watched you walk off stage and it’s the same confidence you put formed and the energy immediately changed when you were gone. He hadn’t realized how focused he was on your dance until he released the breath he had been holding in.

“Getting inspo yet?” Jimin joked as he snapped Taehyung out of his trance with a pat on his leg.

When Taehyung first took over Erotes, everyone expected a lot of changes. The company went from being owned by generations of women to now the first man in charge and not a lot were comfortable considering the lingerie was specifically for women and those others who would choose to wear it—very clearly not Taehyung. He knew he would face a lot of challenges and that’s what’s happening right now.

He wants to create a line of lingerie that the wearers [whoever that maybe, biologically female or not] would feel comfortable in. He doesn’t want to make it simply for the male gaze, he wants the wearer to feel comfortable and sexy and proud of their body. It probably isn’t much help that the person who had suddenly inspired him to create is an exotic dancer but something about you just caught his attention.

He’s solely looking at you from a designer’s point of view and he’s picturing that some of the company’s target audience would be people like you. Of course he’s going to create pieces for those who would just like to feel sexy at home or under their work clothes, but he needs to find inspiration first.

That is the sole reason why he went back to the gentlemen's club a couple nights later all by himself. The atmosphere seemed to fit what he was looking for too and he just needed to be in the element and in the presence of someone he considers sexy.

By the time he arrived it was late and since it was a weekday there weren’t that many people there. Business was good, just not as busy as on weekends but it worked in his favor. When he asked for a private dance they directed him to a red room where all he had to do was wait patiently for you to come in.

To be honest, you were a bit annoyed to do the private dance. Usually the ones who request are young arrogant men who don’t pay enough for what they get and if that wasn’t the client then it was typically some old ass dirty sleazebag who needs Viagra to keep it up. You definitely weren’t expecting for a man who looked like a God to be sitting there on the red velvet couch, dressed in a Dolce & Gabbana suit and had sandy blonde hair. He looked arrogant but for a reason, look at him. He was lounging comfortably on the seat with his arms stretched out on the back of the couch holding a glass of whiskey. His legs were spread in a manly way and his shoes shined even in the darkness.

You didn’t say anything when you walked in but the silk robe you wore simply slipped off your shoulders as the music began and exposed your lingerie to his hungry eyes. He raised his glass to his lips as he watched you let it fall to the floor and saunter over to him. You fell to your knees before him and your manicured hands skimmed over his thighs making his legs open just a little more to make room for you. Neither of you have spoken but for the moment it didn’t feel like you needed to.

The room was a little foggy too but Taehyung could see you very clearly as you pushed up against his thighs until you were standing back up and his eyes locked on yours when you swung a leg over his lap and swayed to the music. His fingers twitched with the urge to touch but he kept himself composed as he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Venus,” you used your stage name for obvious reasons as you situated yourself on his lap. Taehyung wasn’t aware of his moving hand until he was just inches away from touching your waist when you grabbed it and pressed it into the couch. Your breasts pushed against his chest as your fingers locked with his and you whispered into her ear, “You can look but don’t touch.”

“Got it,” he said breathlessly and he really did understand. He knew the rules and honestly he was unaware of what his hand was trying to touch until you called him out on it. He watched you closely as you arched your spine back and his eyes caught on the shiny reflection of your belly button ring and he hated to admit he’s a lot more turned on than he thought he would be.

He honestly was just interested in seeing what you wore tonight but he couldn’t even think about that right now when your body looked so appetizing to him. “Have you ever modeled before?”

You had your back to him now as he watched you bend forward and present yourself to him and once again he had to stop himself from reaching out and touching when you showed off your flexibility. You gave him a simple response as your hand came to the back of his neck and your back pressed against his chest to grind on his lap, “No.”

“Would you want to?” He asked in a whisper when you pulled on his neck tie harshly. His suit would have wrinkles now but he does not mind one bit. You laughed softly and he even liked the sound of that more than the music, “No.”

“I’ll pay you for it.”

“You’re paying for this, isn’t that enough?” You asked with your face just an inch away from his that he could feel the heat run between you.

“It’s far more than enough and yet I still want so much more, Venus, I think you would be a perfect model for me,” Taehyung said honestly, “Since the first time I saw you I wanted to see you in my designs.”

“And here I thought you wanted a dance because you found me attractive,” you teased. He was a client of the club and you should just treat him as such but he’s very attractive and he listened to you when you told him not to touch. Most men would still try and catch a feel even after being warned.

Taehyung released a breathy laugh, “Oh I find you absolutely irresistible but I’m sure that’s not something you don’t hear on a regular basis. I think you know your effect on others especially when you dance like this.”

You smiled, content enough that this God of a man found you irresistible, “What kind of model?”

“Lingerie, a boudoir shoot if you will,” Taehyung said but you wanted to play a little longer and his time was almost up.

“Not interested,” you said seductively and though your rejection stung, the way you said it made his growing arousal all the more prominent.

When his time was up he paid for the 140$ fee for a private dance and when he was ready to tip you and give you the money you let him slip it into the waistband of your panties and with that he left. You took out the money, surprised to count a total of 800$ just for you.

“I’ve never wished I had a pussy before in my life.”

You and Hoseok looked at Jungkook completely speechless as the three of you stood around the ivory box that was delivered to the club. It was from your client the other night and when you told Jungkook that he seemed annoyed.

One, he was mad you got tipped so much for a simple dance and second, that you just got a custom lingerie set designed specifically for you by a billionaire. You only know this because he left the Erotes business card there along with a couple hundred more with a note that said, ‘If you’re interested, come visit me.”

“I smell Sugar Daddy in the air,” Hobi finally said after the long silence that followed an envious Jungkook. To be honest, none of you knew much about the company until Jungkook went ahead and searched it up only to find a picture of the man you danced on just a few nights ago tied to an article titled, ‘the newly appointed CEO of Erotes Lingerie, Kim Taehyung.’

They brought your box over from the club and being their nosy selves, they wanted to see what you got.

The two were at your shitty, run down apartment where the three of you have been talking shit about your main boss all day. There’s nothing specifically wrong with the guy other than the fact that’s he’s a fucking cunt who steals from his dancers and never cares for it a man gets too touchy unless Jungkook has to kick them to the curb. You were all just tired of him.

“Go see what he’s gotta say,” Jungkook said with a smirk, “I’ll even drive you there and if he offers you money just remember how supportive your bestie was.”

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, “Should I?”

That’s how you ended up in front of the skyscraper before you. Erotes was your typical gray building on the outside but there were hues of red lights basically oozing out of the window panes. It felt otherworldly and stepping inside felt like you were stepping into an Oasis on Mount Olympus. There were large statues of Greek gods and goddesses of love inside and the red and yellow lights seemed to set the mood in the corporate building. You walked right up to the front desk with absolutely no clue on what to say that you found yourself stuttering.

“Uh, um, can I speak to Kim Taehyung?” You immediately wanted to slap yourself for the way you just asked to see the CEO OF THE COMPANY and clearly the receptionist wanted to do the same considering she looked you up and down unimpressed before looking back to her computer. You waited for her to say something but after a minute or two she looked at you as if confused why you were still standing in front of her desk.

This time you couldn’t help but scoff at her rude behavior and reached into your purse for the card. You slid the business card across her desk and looking annoyed, she picked it up and looked it over. You smiled, “Now can I speak to Kim Taehyung?”

“Not if you don’t have an appointment,” she smiled tightly and you mirrored her expression. “So can you set an appointment then?”

“For what reason?”

“You can ask him when you set the appointment since he’s the one who told me to come here, or I can just leave and the next time I see him I can let him know how I tried to see him but I was refused,” you smiled and with a clenched jaw she finally picked up. You were bluffing because in truth you didn’t know if he would see you again or it he would just give up on whatever he’s trying to gain but it scared her enough to finally call whoever she needed to.

“What’s your name?”

“Venus,” you said, “That's all.” With another look at you from head to toe she muttered the name to the person on the phone and hung up shortly after. She flashed you another fake smile and said, “Alright follow me.”

You went up the elevator to the 100th floor which meant a long and uncomfortable ride with this snobby receptionist who kept glancing at you like she couldn’t understand why the man upstairs wanted to see you and in truth you weren’t sure either. His secretary gave you the same judging look as she knocked on Taehyung’s large office doors and honestly you didn’t get it.

It was clear you weren’t his girlfriend or anything so what was their deal? Unless he was just some rich guy already engaged or married and they knew you weren’t the wife… maybe you should check that, men are trash anyway—especially ones with a lot of money. When the receptionist left with Taehyung’s secretary you awkwardly stood in front of you as she typed away, “He’s in a meeting, go ahead and sit over there.”

With a small huff in annoyance you took a seat at one of the waiting chairs not far from the front desk. There was a stack of lingerie magazines but you didn’t bother going through them as you got on your phone instead to text your closest friends.

you: im too poor to be in here

hobi: did they check ur bank acc and see u only have 2.75$ in there?

you: fuck u

kook: is he wrong tho

you: no

you: anyway idk I’m getting bad vibes from the employees

hobi: ask if they’re libras and if they say yes you better run

kook: true. I don’t trust libras

“It was great seeing you again Tae, we need to get together for drinks like old times.”

You looked up for a split second to watch a beautiful tall blonde leave his office as he held the door open for her. She had sparkles in her eyes that made you want to gag at the thought of ever looking at a man like that. You visibly cringed and looked back down to your phone and waited until he was done.

you: oh god I’m scared. I’m about to go in

kook: remember that he’s just a man

hobi: ^ a very rich one who made u clothes for dancing on him

kook: yes that too

“I’ll have to see if it fits into my schedule,” Taehyung finally said back seemingly unmoved by her flirtatious smile and as he was out the door with her his eyes shifted to you making you look up. He didn’t send another glance her way as he asked, “Ready?”

You released a sigh as you finally got up from the chair and walked past the shocked blonde like you’ve been here before. Being a dancer meant you needed confidence — or at least pretend like you had it — so that’s how you acted most of the time. Also, he’s a member of the club and at the end of the day you’re still just an exotic dancer who doesn’t have a place in this building meeting with the CEO.

Taehyung is a little surprised at the sight of you. Well, for clarification, he had hoped you would take him up on his offer but he’s just surprised to see you outside of your normal dancing attire. It’s not that he expected to see you dressed provocatively out in public but… well you simply just looked pretty. You wore a plain long skirt that fit your body nicely and a plain fitted long sleeve and regular heels. Your hair was even pinned back in a cute way and it caught him off guard. He looked over to his secretary who was pretending not to watch as he held the door, turning the lock for privacy and following you in.

You looked around the space, his single office was bigger than a studio apartment. There was no need to have so much space especially if it was big enough to have an entire statue of aros. It was obnoxious, kind of. You could see Taehyung’s suit hanging on a hook and all he wore was a navy blue button up long sleeve tucked into black slacks and a belt. The sleeves were even rolled up and the tie seemed just a bit loose. He looked at you, “You received my gift already? I thought maybe you would get it tonight.”

“Someone brought it to me,” you told him as you stood behind his large glass coffee table, “Did you not want to see me?”

He released a small scoff, “On the contrary, it’s a pleasant surprise, I am curious to know what you think.”

“About the lingerie? Yeah, you designed it?” You asked. He nodded, “As you can see this is a lingerie company and I’m the new appointed CEO and designer. The only problem is that I can’t seem to find any inspiration for original and unique designs. I actually was made to go to the club and well that’s when I saw you and I’ll admit, you were very captivating and for some reason I was able to visualize you in a set.”

“Really?” You asked, genuinely surprised. You knew you were at least somewhat attractive but you didn’t think it was enough for someone to design something for you. He said it so confidently and professional like this was just some sort of business meeting for him and in truth this is not what you had in mind when he gave you his business card. You assumed he wanted to try and gain something with the lingerie like give him a private show. The only reason why you had come is because of how good of a tip he left you and why he gave you the gift.

“Yes, that’s why I would have liked it if you modeled for me,” Taehyung said as he rounded the table to get closer, “I mean you seem to wear lingerie confidently and from what I can see now is that you also seem confident in ordinary clothes—is that second hand?”

Your jaw nearly dropped as he read you like a book and you looked down, “Yes? How’d you know?”

Taehyung moved on instead of answering, “Did you bring the gift?”

“Yes.”

He looked around you like he would suddenly find the white box he sent his gift in but all he could see was you. So Taehyung couldn’t help but let his eyes run along the length of your body as he came to a realization and his eyes seemed to widen with peaked interest, “Is that so? Would you be willing to show me?”

A small smile to your face as you nodded, “Of course, I thought that was the whole reason why you wanted to see me.”

He watched as you began to strip your clothes from him right there in the middle of his office just letting the clothes fall. You made sure he was watching too and he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. It was exactly how he pictured it would look. He found himself looking around as if the idea of having a woman undress in his office and looking damn good in it was a crime. Not necessarily a crime, but enough to raise questions but he sort of liked that. He locked the door so it’s not like his secretary can barge in and he doesn’t have any meetings till later.

“Well?” You asked completely undressed aside from the lingerie. It was a simple black bodysuit made of lace with embroidered leaf and vines that met over the valley of your breasts down to your navel where the lace didn’t wrap around. The only thing that kept the lace together were those vines down the middle. The straps were made of silk black ribbons that continued into the cups of your breasts where a clip rested in the middle to undo the top. It seemed plain but the lace had small shimmers of glitter that shined the same way your belly button piercing did. It hugged all your curves in the right places and you fit it so well.

Taehyung just nodded, assessing you with a tight lip smile, “Looks amazing.”

“The lingerie?” You questioned even if it was very clear he was talking about that. This man seemed strange to you. You knew people in the fashion world could be eccentric and creative but this was the first guy you’ve ever met more pleased by the lace you wore rather than the body that wore it. Taehyung’s gaze shifted to your face, “No. The wearer.”

He came up to you, finger lightly tracing the silk strap and sliding it under so it grazed your skin too. You tilted your head to the side, an innocent gaze in your eyes as you looked up at him, “Is that all you needed me for? To dress me up?”

Taehyung’s finger traced up toward the curve of your tilted neck and jaw not yet touching but you could feel the heat from it, “Not the only thing, but I’m too tempted to touch you right now and I know that’s off limits.”

“You’re not a guest of the club right now, are you?” You asked softly. Listen, you knew how to play the game. You knew exactly how you should act to have a man entranced and that’s how you get tipped so well. The amount of money he gave you the other night was enough to cover rent and if you had to find a way to make him tip you again, you will. There’s a reason you became a dancer.

“I’m not,” Taehyung softly said back to you, “So what now?”

“Now you sit,” you lightly pushed at his chest until he was walking backward toward the couch. There was no music playing so it felt a bit awkward for you still yet the second you moved closer to him, he took the initiative to guide you onto his lap as you said, “No music? How am I supposed to perform?”

You were teasing him a bit but he didn’t seem to mind as you straddled his lap, feeling his fingers trace along your ankles toward your thighs, hips, waist, and then linger along your rib cage. Taehyung was too busy looking at your body in his design to care for music, “Do we need it?”

He looked up just as you gave him a smile and said, “Without music it feels too close to sex.”

“Mm,” Taehyung hummed in response. You slowly began to move on his lap and now that he could touch he didn’t hold back. He was still gentle but his hands did come forward to graze your covered breasts before running down the exposed front. You also played with the collar of his navy blue button up, pulling on his tie slowly ready to stop if he wanted you to. “What’s your name?”

“Venu—“

“Your real name,” Taehyung said, feeling his breath hitch when you fully yanked his tie open and pulled him closer. You flashed him a smile that showed the whites of your teeth, “Do you really want to know?”

Taehyung couldn’t help but scoff with a small chuckle, “It’s only fair, you know my name is Kim Taehyung. Now can I know yours?”

“Y/n,” you said as you moved to get off his lap but his strong hand held you in place, not hard enough to feel like he’s forcing you, but enough to know he didn’t want you leaving. You made yourself comfortable once more running your hands up his shirt untucking it and making him look like a complete mess of a CEO. Taehyung just let you too, his hands did move up your rib cage until his thumbs pushed against your breasts but other than that he was letting you lead. Once again it’s like you’re back in the red room with him under you as you perform.

“Y/n,” he repeated as he guided your hips however you moved them. Taehyung will admit, he’s turned on by the whole thing but there’s just no way he couldn’t be, right? You’ve stripped down to what he designed for you, sitting pretty on his lap and he can’t help but want to get closer… it’s only natural.

“How old are you?” He asked.

“22,” you told him and you could see the surprise on his face but you already knew his age since your friends looked him up earlier and you found yourself saying, “But I like them a little older.”

Listen, you have rules as an exotic dancer and performer set for your safety and comfort specifically. You keep things professional when you’re at work and if you run into anyone outside of it you simply act oblivious. You very rarely visit any client unless booked for an event and usually you aren’t alone. You never let them get too touchy or personal yet here you are letting him in all because Taehyung was undeniably attractive and wealthy with some sort of interest in you.

Neither one of you seemed to notice the way you both leaned closer until your lips brushed against his suddenly. Taehyung did pull away as he whispered, “Model for me.”

“I don’t have time,” you whispered back, “I have two jobs.”

There was just a small hint of a kiss but it wasn’t long enough to be worth anything and he said, “I’ll pay better than both.”

You smiled and without much thought into what you were doing, you finally kissed him. Taehyung didn’t need any sort of push to be curling his fingers into your hair and kissing you back deeply. It was an intimate kiss, needy and wet. You had a limp hand on his chest nearly touching his tie and his free hand was down on your thigh. Just as your fingers began to slide toward the buttons of his shirt, a loud ringing cut into the room making you jump in surprise.

Just before you could pull away, Taehyung’s tongue licked along yours drawing a light sound out of you as he chose to ignore the ringing. You figured if he was ignoring it then you would too for the time being and soon enough it stopped.

You pulled away a few seconds later feeling out of breath and hot and he looked the way you felt. Shirt untucked. Tie undone. Hair a mess. Like swollen. Eyes hazy. Jesus, this stranger was beautiful and he didn’t even have to try. Looking down into his eyes it made you snap back into realization. You’ve never gotten so physical with a client before and he’s probably not even going to pay you because there’s no reason for him to, so you're wasting time here. It was cute and fun but it’s over and you should get dressed and move on, right?

Taehyung let you slide off his lap as the phone made you both realize where you were and he tried fixing his own appearance as much as possible. He kept his gaze down when you undressed — knowing the moment was over — for privacy but he couldn’t help but ask, “What’s the other job?”

“Waiting on tables,” you told him, slipping your long skirt back on. His brows furrowed, “Really?”

“Why? Is it a surprise?”

“A bit,” he said honestly as you both stood straight looking as organized as you could after what happened. You didn’t give much of a response then, only said, “Alright, I’ve got to go if I want to catch the bus.”

You were looking at the time on your phone not noticing as he left you for a moment only to come back with a checkbook. He didn’t say much as he quickly scribbled away and handed it to you. Your eyes met when he grabbed your hand and made you hold the check.

“This is for today,” Taehyung said, sounding a bit out of it, “Um… I’ve never done anything like this but…” he looked down at the check, “Maybe we can work something out between us. Beneficial to us both.”

You raised a brow as you looked at the number written down on the check, “How so?”

His thumb brushed some hair away from your face and without thinking he leaned further down until your lips never touched but didn’t move closer. You knew he was probably giving you the choice to decide if you want to do it or not and you reached up to kiss him. His hand was firm against your cheek and kept you in place as he pulled back and ran his tongue across his lower lip, “Like this.”

“Truthfully, I don’t have time to go out with someone and personally I don’t want to. I have a lot of work to do and being in a relationship is not something I want right now but,” Taehyung kissed you again when you didn’t pull back, “I want to be able to do this.”

You smiled, pulling back, “You can find any woman who would die to be with you even if it’s for one night.”

“I can,” Taehyung said in agreement, “But I want you. You won’t push me for a relationship, would you?”

“Obviously not.”

“Then let me spoil you with whatever you want and in exchange—“

“Let you have me?” You asked and he nodded his head.

Taehyung was attractive.

He was wealthy and respectful.

There is no doubt in your mind that every woman he comes across wants him yet…

For some reason he would rather have a give and take relationship with no ties and he only wants it with you. It might even free up a little bit of your time too. You finish one job only to go to another that very same night. You’ve been trying to pay off college debt and other things too so money always seemed to be an issue. You don’t mind dancing, you actually enjoy it and that’s where your friends were. You would have to cut back time at the restaurant—it seems like you’ve already made your decision.

“Give me your number then,” you said. It was a short contact information exchange and just as you reached the door with Taehyung behind you, there was a loud knock against it.

The second he opened it, your eyes fell to the secretary who worked right outside his office. You watched the way her eyes seemed to narrow as she found you back in your sweater and long skirt — completely unaware of what was underneath. Taehyung turned to you, “Let’s connect later tonight, I’ll give you a call. Miss Jia, please call a cab for my guest before telling me whatever was so urgent you had to interrupt us more than once.”

The secretary looked stunned before nodding her head and running back to the desk giving you one last dirty look.

As strange as this might sound, you had no idea what to expect the last time you had seen Mr. Kim. You understood what he had implied and in the moment you wanted the same but now as you’re reading over the contract he’s had printed out for you, it all was beginning a little too real. It wasn’t long but the words felt like they just went on forever and ever and he looked at you like he was waiting for you to have some sort of question. It was nothing more than a non disclosure agreement and you understand what it’s for but it all felt just a little bizarre. You’re not put off by it by any means, you’ve signed a few as a dancer, but this will include sexual acts—things like what you did in his office and much more… did you really not mind doing this? Even if it felt a little like signing your freedom away.

Maybe you were just worrying too much, it’s not like you were looking for a real relationship and at least this way you’ll get money and your sexual needs dealt with from an ungodly attractive man.

“Is everything alright?” Taehyung asked once the silence had gone on for too long, “If this is not something you’re interested in then…”

“It’s not that,” you held the paper up and looked over at him from across the long stretch of dining table between you, “I thought this all started because you wanted me to model for you. There’s nothing about that here?”

Taehyung just looked at you, the corner of his lips turning upward as he smirked, “Well this contract is just between us two, I figured if you wanted to stop busting tables or dancing, I could hire you on as a model the legal way.”

You released a laugh, “And have to deal with seeing all of your prissy employees more often? Probably having to work with them? No, thank you.”

His eyes hardened as he watched you eye the contract. Before he could ask you what changes you would like him to make to get you to agree, you picked up the pen and quickly signed your name. A small smile came to his face as you slid the white sheet over to him and he quickly signed in his own name without a single ounce of hesitation, looking up at you with that same dark gaze you’re used to seeing before he gets his hands on you.

After dinner, you got into the back of Taehyung’s G-wagon with him following suit, ordering his driver to take you both back to his penthouse. You couldn’t help but smirk, “Are we starting so soon?”

Taehyung only smirked back as he stared out his window but you watched the way he loosened his tie with one hand, “This is soon to you, dear? After the day in my office?”

You’ve grown slightly accustomed to the deep mess of his face and the seductive way it sounded when it was just the two of you and you couldn’t help but reach over the back seat and press your face against his neck, breathing softly as you said, “You just don’t seem as eager yet.”

He turned to look at you, tongue running along his lips like he was ready to devour you and before he could utter out a single word, he felt your lips on his neck, kissing softly and making his eyes shut for a second. Once the shock had worn off he couldn’t help but look toward the rear view mirror where his driver was trying so damn hard not to stare back and catch sight of your arched back and short dress riding up with the way you stood on your hands and knees on the backseat, just kissing his neck teasingly. Taehyung brought an arm around to run a hand along your back, just keeping you close before turning his neck to capture your lips with his, and just like that the two of you were making out the entire drive to his home.

He blames it on all the teasing you did every time you would meet for his impatience. He’s felt your body on his, he’s touched your lips and stared at you as you stripped for him, it’s not his fault he couldn’t wait much longer to get to the real thing.

You barely had time to take in the sight of the hundred story building of luxury apartments before you when Taehyung was already pushing you through the front door and into the empty elevator. Immediately, you threw your arms around his neck, dragging him close and kissing him once more. He kissed back with such eagerness to feel all of you, hands holding your sides like his life depended on it, not wanting you to slip away.

His penthouse was huge, straight out of a movie and when you walked in it even echoed with each step you took.

“Welcome home si—“ a woman’s voice died on the spot and you couldn’t help but squeal at the thought of being caught doing something you weren’t supposed to. The two of you both turned to look at her, Taehyung holding you by the waist to keep you pressed against his front and you took the chance to get a good look at her.

She was dressed in a stiff pencil skirt with a gray blouse tucked into it. Her hair was in a tight bun and she wore black flats. She looked like house staff to you but you’re not sure, all you know is that she’s just as surprised to see you as you are at her. Taehyung released a deep sigh, clearly displeased, “Did I not tell you to head out early today?”

His voice was stern and authoritative, no room to argue and she looked genuinely scared like she would lose her job or something. You pulled away from Taehyung nervously but he didn’t let you get far as he kept his hold on you, waiting for the cleaning lady to leave and she did so rather quickly, not shying away from looking at you in confusion.

It wasn’t until she was scurrying out the door that you couldn’t help but laugh as you looked around, “What? Do you not have guests over often?”

“Not like you, no,” Taehyung said as he stood behind you, slipping the strap of your dress off your shoulder before placing a kiss on it, “Not as pretty.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you stared up at the large chandelier above you, “So you only bring home ugly women?”

Taehyung couldn’t help but chuckled as he slipped his hand off your shoulder to your wrist, pulling you along toward his room once more, “We’ve been over this before, I don’t have the energy nor time to deal with romantic partners, and we don’t just pick up any woman off the street and bring her to my home.”

“No,” you teased stepping into his room, “Only women you meet when they dance on you half naked.”

He smirked now, watching as you began to slip your dress off only a couple steps ahead of him walking toward his king sized bed of satin sheets. He couldn’t help but begin to remove his blazer, undoing his tie too as your dress fell at your feet. He slowly began to unbutton his shirt, unable to keep his eyes off when you bent down by the waist to undo your heels, ass in perfect display for his eyes only, “My apologies for having taste.”

Once he was fully undressed he walked straight to you, pushing you onto the bed and taking you by surprise. You quickly turned on your back using your elbows to sit up as you watched him began to crawl between your legs still fully dressed but clearly on his way to change that.

"God, your body is so fucking hot," he said in a low growl as he took in the sight of you on his bed. He’s always thought this since the second he saw you on stage and now he has you in his sheets looking at only him and he couldn’t help but allow himself to let his eyes roam down your body.

You bit your lip as you felt his hands begin to slide along your stomach toward your breasts. A small smirk came to your face as he stopped, looking straight down at the center of your breasts and once he realized, he couldn’t stop his fingers from moving. Taehyung released a small chuckle as he held the small clip that rested right between the mounds of your boobs, “Did you wear this just for me?”

“Obviously,” you said with a small moan as he tugged harshly on the clasp, quickly undoing it and your boobs practically spilled out as your bra fell. He smiled, “Like my own little present.”

Taehyung did not hesitate to dip down and place a kiss on your collarbone, hands cupping your bare tits now and holding the weight of them against his palm. You released a breathy sigh of hen he sucked harshly on your skin leaving a line of red live marks trails toward your boobs until finally he was mouthing at your left nipple, tugging at it softly with his teeth and letting out a quiet groan himself.

He’s ashamed to admit how turned on he was just at the sight of your tits in his face, he’s imagined what they look like under your lingerie but right now you’re laying bare beneath him letting him lavish you in wet and sloppy kisses.

“I need you to take this off,” You told him as he licked along your nipple and slowly began to tug at his shirt. He just smirked sitting up in his knees, “Take it off me.”

You did just that, ripping the buttons open and tugging hard enough to make his body move toward you with his lips parted, turned in by how rough you pulled on him. His eyes fell to your nimble hands as they yanked open the top button of his slacks and undid the zipper, brows scrunching together, “Hurry up.”

He let out a soft laugh at your impatience, nodding his head as he flung the shirt off and quickly got off the bed to kick his slacks off too. He stood there in his Versace briefs, dick print evident and it only made you smirk when you saw how hard he was. You couldn’t help but giggle, “Just for me?”

He picked up on your teasing tone similar to the one he used when he asked if you wore the front clip bra earlier. He brought a hand down to his dick, palm running over it, feeling the weight of his bulge, unbelievably hard, “Do you want it?”

You spread your legs even further apart, “Give it to me, Mr. Kim.”

You said the last part in a mocking tone, remembering the way his employees always referred to him as and he just big his lip, crawling back between them and dipping down to kiss you. You welcome his kiss happily, his body pressed against yours and dick snuggly between your legs rutting against your covered pussy for any sort of friction he could get. Your tongue snuck into his mouth, wet and sticky as it swirled around his and a line of drool connected the two when he pulled away from the kiss till only your tongues kissed.

“Are you going to fuck me yet or make me wait?” You asked with your arms wrapped around his neck, hips grinding against his clothed cock, “I’m already so wet for you.”

Taehyung released a low groan at your dirty words when he felt your hands slide down toward his briefs and begin to tug them down on your own accord.

“Horny girl,” he said deeply as he reached down to tug on your underwear, a tearing sound heard clearly and your na dropped in surprise but he just smirked, “I’ll design you a new pair, love, a million of them for every new set I ruin.”

“That’s a big promise, Taehyung,” you said watching him reach into the drawer in his nightstand for a condom. Taehyung just smirked, “A promise I could keep.”

Taehyung knew he should give your pussy some affection, maybe get you stretched out before he completely impaled you with his cock but as he looked down at the gap of your entrance and the way your slick pooled inside it, he wondered if you would even need it. Your lips parted in surprise at the weight of his cock sliding between your folds coating him in your arousal, teasingly grinding against you until his tip bumped into your clit, “Want my cock, pretty girl?”

His hair was all out of place and his lips swollen from how hard he bit his bottom lip, waiting for you to nod

Your hips were becoming restless, “Give it to me.”

Taehyung smirked finally taking his cock in hand and guided his tip toward your entrance and before he could even attempt to push in, your hands were pulling at his hips and with a low groan, he sank into your heat in one go. You both moaned against each other as his hips fell against yours and unable to stop himself, he laid his body flush over yours, moaning against your chest, “Oh fuck.”

He’ll be honest and say he can’t remember the last time he had the chance to be in a tight wet pussy but he does remember that it didn’t feel like this. It was probably fast and unsatisfactory, just a way for him to release whatever stress he had at the moment. This… this was all just so fucking good, the teasing that led up to this, the dancing, the lingerie, all of it.

"Please fuck me,” you breathed out as he finally began to move and you wrapped your legs around his waist only for him to bring his arms around the underside of your knees and drag your legs up toward your chest. Your pussy stretched wider in the new position as he began to thrust, cock pushing in and out of your wet cunt with low moans leaving his lips.

Your hands clawed at his back and it made his eyes roll with the burn of each scratch, veins in his arms protruding as he made sure that you didn’t move your legs from the position he put you in and fucked you in a mating press that had you releasing moan after moan, head tossed back into the pillows in complete ecstasy.

“Such a good pussy,” Taehyung licked his lips but his mouth felt so dry, fucking you hard with his dick, “Fuck baby, haven’t had pussy this good in so long.”

“Good thing it’s yours,” you moaned, as he rocked his hips into yours roughly. His back muscles tensing with each powerful thrust and he growled, “Show me then.”

You didn’t need any explanation to know what he wanted and you were a bit thankful to relieve your sore legs from this position as he rolled onto his back with you on top.

"So good," you moaned loudly, when his hand groped a handful of your ass digging his nails in with small grunts every time your thighs smacked his. If he thought you were a flexible dancer, nothing compared to the way you split your legs open for him, bouncing on his cock using him like he was just another client of yours watching you perform. He didn’t mind that one but especially now that he could touch and he didn’t hold back from lifting his hand only to smack your ass hard enough to make you whine at the pain. Your hair fell to one side and your hand rested on his chest, riding him like your life depended on it just enjoying the depth his cock went into your cunt, “You’re so big.”

“Mhm,” he moaned in agreement, it was one of his proudest achievements and it had him pushing his upper body up to sit, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and fucking up into you in this new position. Unable to hold himself back he dropped forward, your back hitting the opposite end of his bed instead of how you had originally been when your head was against the pillow. He quite literally made you switch to the other side just so he could be on top again but his hands never left your ass even as they got trapped between your body and the bed, “Am I fucking you good?”

"Mhm,” you whined softly, “I’m gonna—oh fuck, Taehyung.”

He only growled in response, drilling his cocking into you fully allowing himself to lose all sensibility and just do what he’s been wanting to do since he saw you in his lingerie—just fuck you roughly like he knew you were a slut for.

“You a slut for me?” He asked and you surprisingly nodded your head making him kiss along your neck, “Say it.”

“Wanna be your slut,” you moaned, nails scratching along his back as he just pounded the fuck out of you with his big dick, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“My slut gonna cum?” He asked in a whispered voice, feeling your legs shake and he just knew you couldn’t hold on any longer, "Cum for me then.”

“Oh my go—“ your words died in your throat when he swallowed your mouth with his, giving you the nastiest kiss you’ve ever had and just like that, the knot in your stomach came undone just as he came in his condom. He released a low growl into your mouth as he felt the flood of your release around him, pussy tightening and he physically began to shake through his orgasm.

You’re not sure how much time had passed with his cock still stuffed inside you and once the two of you both came down, he was finally pulling out of you with a tired groan, “Goddamn.”

You were both covered in sweat as he fell to your side and released a sigh, “Fuck, that was good.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, still out of breath as you attempted to sit up, “Bathroom?”

Taehyung pointed toward the door in the corner of his bedroom letting you go on your own to clean up. As you left you wondered what would happen now. Were you supposed to leave now? Was he at least going to call you an Uber or have his driver take you home? As you finished up, you decided you would ask him, you will pick up your dress and pray it wasn’t torn like your underwear and just leave with your dignity in tact.

When you stepped into the bedroom it was empty, you looked around in shock and feeling the insecurity of being completely bare after rough sex was too much to handle and you picked up your dress, wincing a little at the soreness between your legs.

Just as you were getting ready to pull the dress on, a warm hand touched your shoulder blade, moving your hair out of the way and your breath hitched. Taehyung pressed a soft kiss along your neck, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Don’t you want me to leave?” You asked looking fully convinced it was what he wanted until he hugged you from behind, hand caressing your arm until he laced your fingers together, “What I want you to do is get your pretty self back in bed.”

You couldn’t help but blush, not sure how to handle the tenderness in his voice and touch. Usually after sex the guy would barely pay you any mind, basically toss you to the side even if it was your boyfriend but Taehyung only pulled you back into bed.

“I’m cold,” you said in a soft voice, suddenly feeling a bit more pliant to get in bed with him. Taehyung just smiled as he lifted the covers, “Then come lay down and let me warm you up.”

“I didn’t expect the CEO to be soft after how hard you fucked me,” your words were blunt and yet he still smiled pulling you into his side to cuddle.

“I was just giving you what you asked for, I’m not a monster, Y/n,” as he said that he pressed a hand to your hip, rubbing the part that was sore from all the positions he had you in, “If I was too rough, just tell me.”

“Don’t worry, I liked it,” you snuggled against him, letting him sooth the pain in your muscles as you rested a head on his chest. You brought a leg up around his waist and he hugged you close, “Good, but don’t think I’m letting you leave this bed anytime soon. I want to hold you to make up for all the marks I left.”

“Fine,” you yawned against him, “I’m tired anyway.”

Hoseok could not hide the look of shock on his face the next time he saw you. You wore an expensive silver diamond necklace, “You actually did it.”

It didn’t take him long to figure out what happened, especially when you grinned teasingly, “I did, and let me just say, oh my god.”

“Oh my god what?” Jungkook asked, coming over. The club has yet to open yet so the only people around were employees and that meant you could all hang around before actually having to do anything. That’s how a bartender, a body guard, and an exotic dancer, found yourselves sitting in a private booth having a very private discussion.

All you had to do was give Jungkook the look for him to examine you curiously, eyes widening at the sight of what adorned your neck, “You screwed the rich guy?!”

You nodded, not all offended by his crass tone, knowing he was just caught off guard, “He was so… so… listen, I’m not in love but wow.”

“That good, huh?” Hoseok asked before looking at Jungkook, “I wondered if I’ve ever been good enough to brag to her friends like this after just one night.”

You gave him a feigned pitied expression, “You’re about seven figures short of being that good.”

He playfully glared at you as he said, “Money doesn’t make up for ability.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook agreed with his equally broke friend, “Quality over quantity.”

Your brows furrowed wondering if he used the phrase right but unable to create a concrete thought on it, you decided to move on, “Well I guess Taehyung just happens to be lucky enough to have both.”

“So how does this work?” Hoseok asked, deciding to just change the subject before you destroy his ego any more than you already have, “Did he just toss cash out on the counter and leave or did he stay and do all that lovey dovey shit for shits and giggles?”

Despite your two best friends being guys, you all felt extremely comfortable discussing your sex lives. When you first started working for the club you thought they were so fucking hot that you would explode right on the spot if they even looked at you… now you can only see them as friends who know way too much about your sex life and vise versa… You did not need to know about the time Jungkook got head wearing nothing but his stupid toe socks.

Taehyung didn’t throw cash at you. You had originally thought he had wanted you to leave once you were done but he went as far as pulling you back in bed and made sure you stayed till morning when he had a driver drop you off back home.

You shook your head no, “No, I didn’t leave till morning when he was getting ready to leave. He let me sleep in when he left and when I woke up a check was laying under this necklace.”

“Should I get myself a sugar mama?” Jungkook asked in all seriousness but the girl dancing on the stage was done and you wanted to practice a new dance.

You shrugged as you stood, “Good luck finding one.”

“Sir,” his secretary Jia knocked in his door lightly, “Ms. Choi is here to see you.”

It took him a second to respond as he looked at her slightly displeased. She knows by now that unless he has an appointment with her, he does not want her just storming into his building. It was very obviously too late when Yuna was letting herself in following the secretary, the familiar blonde hair tied back with a hair clip.

“Do you have an appointment?” Taehyung asked from the comfort of his desk chair. She rolled her eyes at him, “Come on Tae, since when did I need an appointment to see you?”

“Since always,” he said, not bothering to rise from behind his desk, “You just never listen.”

With a small huff in annoyance, she plopped down on his couch, “Well, I just wanted to know who the girl was last time I was here. She didn’t have an appointment either.”

Taehyung seemed to stiffen. He absolutely hated when she asked too many questions like she had the right to know. It’s been heard and he still doesn’t understand how she can’t get the hint that he’s just not interested in her. He does not care that they’re family friends. He does not care that their parents would prefer them to marry. He just does not care about her beyond a friendly view. He enjoys being her friend and he’ll always be on her side but she also needs to know her place—which isn’t next to him.

“But I was expecting her,” Taehyung said simply, not feeling the need to elaborate on what he meant.

Jia just continued like he hadn’t said anything, “Who is she anyway? I didn’t peg you as the type to like them so young.”

“A few years never hurt anyone,” Taehyung said, looking down at his phone to see you finally responded to his last text.

taehyung: I’ve got dinner plans but I’m free after. are u?

you: nope, I’ve gotta work at the club tn and u left me a bit sore :/

He couldn’t help but smirk, lip pulled between his teeth as he remembered last night. The two of you were rough, aroused from the get go and he was not able to hold back. You told him not to so in the end he didn’t and now you’re sending him a picture of a small bruise he left on your hip. He was tempted to show you the scratch mark you left on his shoulder blade from clawing at his back.

He ran his thumb across his lips, unable to stop himself from noticing the red lingerie you wore and he knew you would be performing tonight. It was late in the evening and he did have dinner plans but he’s sure he can move it around… maybe.

taehyung: tomorrow?

you: working at the restaurant till close

Jia watched him completely ignore that she was even there and it was starting to really annoy her. She knows that they’re not dating and they most likely never will but she just doesn’t get it. Does he realize how many guys think he’s lucky just for her considering him?

“So are you two dating or is she just an easy lay?” Jia couldn’t help but ask and that barely got his attention enough to glare at her.

“Careful Jia, you’re beginning to sound bitter and I hate bitter women,” Taehyung said with a deep gaze that had her biting her tongue, “Now is there anything you need or did you just come to complain?”

He looked back down to his phone as he typed back a response.

taehyung: I’ll see u before u gotta go

you: what about ur work?

taehyung: I’m boss. I can do whatever I want

“That’s all,” Jia said, plastering a forced smile on her face and rising to her feet, “Just wanted to know who the slut was.”

That made Taehyung snap, “Go ahead and walk your ass out, Jia, I don’t want you coming back here until you learn how to act.”

Taehyung will never deny how much of a classist he really was deep down. Maybe not to the extent as his friends but when he stepped into your apartment he had become very aware of your financial situation. It wasn’t a studio apartment but pretty damn close and just being in there made him feel a bit suffocated. The whole place had to be about the size of his office.

“Are you judging?” You asked, arms crossed over your chest and hip popped out just slightly. Even knowing you were giving him attitude, he couldn't help but smile and say, “Only slightly.”

He just wanted to see if he would get a reaction. You scoffed, “Well sorry not all of us were born with a silver spoon in our mouths and a lingerie empire just handed to us.”

Normally Taehyung would get annoyed if someone said that to him, he’s very aware of his privilege but it annoyed the hell out of him when his own wealthy friends would say it. Instead of getting frustrated he just shrugged, “I’m just saying, two jobs and this is all you get? I could help y’know.”

“I don’t need a handout,” you told him even if it sounded a bit hypocritical. You know he’s giving you money but that was different, it was like a job that you got to enjoy too. He was very attractive and he was really good in bed, plus he’s lavished you with gifts every day of this week and yes you’ve allowed yourself to be spoiled but for him to offer help for an apartment? Now that was a bit too much, even for you.

Taehyung only smirked as he stood in front of you now, hand sliding under the waistline of your short skirt, “Who said anything about a handout?”

You rolled your eyes even as you let him begin to kiss down your neck, “I’ve got to work in an hour.”

“Plenty of time,” he muttered against your skin, “I just want a taste anyway.”

There was something about a rich, attractive man desperate to touch you that always had you smiling. Taehyung was slowly dropping to his knees and kissing down your clothed sides, raising your shirt to move it out of his way, “And if you quit the restaurant it’ll free up a lot of time for us, you know I can give you more anyway.”

“Yeah?” You asked teasingly, “And what about when you get tired of me?”

His fingers found their way under your skirt and pulled at your underwear, a smile on his face, “Tired of this? Never.”

“Hmm, I’ll think about it,” you bit your lip as he disappeared under your skirt, placing soft kisses along your thigh getting closer and closer to your heat.

Taehyung’s hands circled to the back of your thighs, going higher and until he was groping your hurt, nose brushing against your bare pelvis leaving teasing touches that had your breath hitching. He kissed your mouth doing everything to avoid the space between your legs and you were struggling not to move away from his hold. You were standing in the middle of your living room with no back support whatsoever. Your hand snuck under your skirt to move it held a firm grip on his hair.

Just before you could hurry him along, a breathy sigh left your lips when he pressed a tentative kiss on your hood clit feeling the way it began to rise with arousal. The single kiss became two and finally his tongue was slipping between the folds to lick it directly, feeling it harden. He looked up at you from between your legs urging you to move closer to his face with his hands on your butt pushing you into him and you had to spread your legs even further to do so. Taehyung sat prettily on his knees just under you, his tongue flattening against your slit, licking up the pool of wetness you were protruding rather quickly. You had to bite back your lip to hold in a moan and his brows scrunched together in displeasure. You hissed at the feel of his nails sinking into the softness of your ass in warning, “Don’t hold back on me. I wanna hear you.”

You barely had a chance to nod your head in response when he dug his face even further into your wet cunt, tongue lapping at your slick before traveling the tip of it all the way up to your clit and flicking it a couple times, the hard nub covered in his spit. You couldn’t help but let out a louder moan as you failed to pull your hips away from the pleasure with his hands holding you in place.

Your hand tightened in his hair when his tongue curled inside your pussy traveling between your folds until he was swirling it around your hardened clit once more. He wrapped his lips around the small nub, sucking softly while his tongue continued to flick the tip of it, meaning around your clit when you pulled on his hair. You were completely soaking his chin but that did not stop Taehyung from making out with your clit, hands keeping you upright so he could eat you out to his heart’s content.

"Oh god," you moaned as he moved a little rougher now, never once easing up on your clit and mouth open as he fucked you with his tongue. Taehyung knew he was on a time limit because you had to get ready for your shit too so he was doing everything he can to make you cum soon. Your jaw went slack at the sudden rough feeling of his two front teeth just barely applying pressure to your clit teasingly and you felt your legs begin to shake. You repeated yourself, “Oh god, Tae, I’m gonn—“

He licked along your swollen folds, lighting tugging on them with his teeth, not enough to hurt but enough for you to jolt in surprise and you were damn near rutting against his face, ducking your pretty pussy into his wainting mouth.

Taehyung didn’t need a verbal sign to know you were at your breaking point, he could practically feel the way your cunt twitched and just like that, his mouth was being flooded with your released and like a starved man, he happily licked it up.

“Good girl,” he said softly but in his usual deep voice as he pressed a chaste kiss to your mound before dropping your skirt back down and caressing your thighs as he stood up.

From the look the secretary had given you, you just know she was very displeased to see you again. You’re not sure if it’s because she felt like she had a chance with Taehyung or maybe she just doesn’t think you’re good enough for her employer, but she never failed to have a scowl in her face when you walked in, this time sporting a long Prada coat that reached down to your mid-thigh.

Once again you were here and her boss failed to tell her he had an appointment with you and she’s started to realize what your relationship is with him. You just know in her head she’s saying every word she can to make you seem like a slut but frankly, you didn’t care. You were here in business today… real business.

Okay, well, still with your body but it was different today.

When you got in his office he immediately locked the door and pressed a kiss to your lips in greeting. You whined when the camera around his neck dug into your chest but he smiled as he pulled away, “Let me see.”

“Eager?” You asked, “Take this off me then.”

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to do just that. He pulled in the tie in the front and practically yank off the coat he bought you, eyes scanning your body with his usual lustful gaze.

“You know, you should make your lingerie more affordable,” you said to him as he bid his lip at the sight before him. You were wearing white today with satin ribbons and sheer lace. You put on some body shimmer too and you just looked like a little present for him to unwrap. It was another custom design for you aside from the garter belt you added for a nice touch. Taehyung just nodded as he pulled you by the hand toward the couch, “I’ll look into it.”

He directed you to lay down, a hand down your back as he moved you however he wanted you to be. Today would be a different sort of touching, he was only making you pose however he liked on the expensive couch of his. He had you on your stomach, butt slightly raised making your back arched and he framed your hair around your face perfectly. You rested a side of your face on the couch with an arm stretched out behind you and the other tucked under your chin.

He took a step back, raising the camera up for him to get a good view and that’s how it started. Taehyung looked so fucking hot as he snapped picture after picture of you in whatever pose he liked. He wore his usual white button up but it looked completely messed up. The top three buttons were undone exposing his chest, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his hair a slight mess. He looked like a sleazy photographer even if he was anything but.

Remember in the beginning when he asked you to model for him and you just kept saying no? Well, there was a change of plans because now you’re in his office doing just that and modeling for him. You don’t even know how he finally convinced you because this was definitely something you weren’t used to. Obviously you were confident in yourself when it came to dancing or putting on a show for Taehyung but to have yourself photographed for others to see? That felt a bit much.

Still, he asked you and you said yes so now here you are listening to his words of assurance, “You look so good, baby.”

Of course with his words you were able to get more into it and did your own poses that had him smiling, “Such a pretty girl.”

“How many more?” You asked as you laid on your side and Taehyung took more close ups of the material. He sighed, “Almost done.”

It went on for a few more minutes till you were beginning to get fed up and Taehyung knew it.

“I’ve got something for you,” Taehyung said as the shoot came to an end and you watched him head toward his desk as you reached into your bag and changed into real clothes. You only came in the coat earlier because you knew he would like to take it off you but now that you’re done and you had work, you had to change. You watched him curiously as he came over to you with a yellow enveloped and a smile on his face. You furrowed your brows in confusion as you took the envelope and opened it.

Taehyung watched your eyes widen with a smile on his face as you skimmed the document, hearing a small jangle and turning it over to drop the last of its content into your palm.

“What’s this?”

“Papers to your new apartment,” Taehyung said as you examined the key, “It’s in your name and fully paid. I’ve signed a contract that covers all the added bills even if you and I happen to fall out.”

“Why’d you do this?” You asked as you looked at the picture of the apartment building. He shrugged, “Call me greedy but I want to spend more time with you and I want you to leave the restaurant, at least. This way you won’t have to worry about making more if I’ve covered your student debt and your housing.”

You just looked at him, unsure how to feel because this all was too much but at the same time you weren’t completely put off by it. You couldn’t comprehend why he would go as far as putting it in your name because then he won’t be able to take it away if you two end.

He didn’t expect you to be jumping in glee but your silence worried him a bit and he had to sit on the edge of the coffee table in front of you to talk, “Sign it and it’s yours, baby, if you want it.”

He handed you a pen and like before when you signed the NDA, you signed the contract wordlessly after reading through it all. He couldn’t help himself, happy to spoil someone with goods and pulled you into him with a hand behind your head and a kiss on your lips.

“You’re spoiling me too much,” you said between kisses and he only smiled.

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” He said, making you laugh softly. When you pulled away you checked the time, eyes widening, “I’ve got to get to work.”

Taehyung released a low groan in a whine, “Noooo.”

You smiled, “How else am I supposed to resign?”

That made him smile and finally, he walked you to the door, “We’ll work out a move-in day and I’ll hire a moving truck so you don’t have to lift a single finger.”

You said your goodbyes and like before he ordered his secretary to call you a cab and promised to see you tonight.

Just after you left, Taehyung called his secretary in holding a flash card in his hand, “I need you to go get these printed, I don’t care how much it costs and if they tell you they can’t fit it in, offer them more. I want these by the end of tonight.”

By late evening Taehyung had what he wanted and a worker was in to install all over his office. There were beautiful black and white photographs, high quality and with a nice depth of field with shadows in all the right places. He purposely did not include your face in a single shot per your request but at least he got to admire the pretty body of yours he gets to touch.

The one above his desk was his absolute favorite, a four foot picture of your breasts clad in the pretty white lingerie wearing his gold Cartier tiger necklace that stopped perfectly at the start of your cleavage, right between them. He looked at it proudly as it looked against the wall behind his desk, distracted by it to the point that he didn’t hear his friend storm into his office with a loud gasp.

“Holy shit,” Jimin did a full 360 as he took in the new art work in his office. Aside from the huh one he had about four others of you in various poses. One was just your arched back, another of your thighs, one with your hand grazing your side and finally, another of his favorite, a pretty view of your belly button ring where he oh so kindly wrote his signature down right next to it with a heart.

“Who’s the new model and is she single?” Jimin asked, smirk on his face as he watched his friend turn to him, clearly displeased.

Jimin wasn’t used to seeing Taehyung like this. Taehyung was always put together and never really let his emotions show. Even if there would come the rare chance when he would be in a relationship he was always private about it but not like this. Jimin has no clue who the person in the pictures was and he was unaware of the NDA you and Taehyung signed. In truth, Taehyung shouldn't even have these pictures in display for anyone who walks into his office to see but he’s not taking them down. The rules of the contract are slowly leaving his head and he’s wondering if the same is happening to you.

Taehyung looked back at the pictures adoringly, “Don’t worry about it, she’s all mine.”

::.

idk how I feel about this 😭💀um hopefully it wasn’t horrible idk man fr. also I’ll probs add more to their relationship in short drabbles

collab taglist: @reissun @piecsblog @joyjunk @kityjoonie @soniaassomething @kioski18 @thvlover7 @cherrymonlightt @nono12bnd @taebangtanbabe @softie00 @exactlygreatcoffee @taetaecatboy @hellbornsworld @taebae19 @theoddinarygirl @queenv1997 @sweet-sourhotcoco @ohsweetmimosa @taebaelove @prajusstuff @amad04 @springfall @peterstarkchrishiddleston @tae-gf @dasa3040 @xyrusty @jjkluver7 @superchamchi88 @bluebloou @eat-sleep-bts-blog1 @bluelesbiann @bachiraslvr @gloriousyouthstudent @hani0407 @ayifawn @yoongiwantsme @kimseokjinsmirror1233 @hellfire-writes

#kim taehyung #taehyung smut #kim taehyung smut #taehyung au #taehyung #taehyung angst #bts taehyung #taehyung drabble #taehyung fluff #Taehyung fic #taehyung one shot #taehyung oneshot #taehyung fanfic #taehyung x y/n

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cordeliawhohung · 3 months

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Yk what I think would be interesting? Simons shy!reader getting angry and Simon watching it unfold. I feel as though it's really hard to make reader angry cuz of her anxiety but there's always something. Like something happens and Simon goes to defend reader but shy!reader hops up and is like "excuse the hell out of me?" And then Simon watches her all proud of his girl and maybe rewards her :)))) you don't have to do it if you don't want to, obvi, but I still think it would be interesting yk? (this got so long lol)

see, i think shy!Reader has the type of anxiety that gets trumped by someone else with anxiety. like i do not think the girl is able to stand up for herself, but for someone else???

imagine Simon is vibing at the restaurant and you're working your regular hostess job coordinating things up front and whatnot, when one of your sweet waitresses comes up to you in tears! she's a sweet thing, hardly seventeen years old and just working the job for extra money, so your very first instinct is to help the poor thing out. at first you were expecting some sort of issues with a customer, but then she tells you the new line cook yelled at her over a ticket.

imagine Simon's surprise when he sees you march past his table and into the kitchen with more anger burning in your eyes than he had ever seen before and without so much as a second glance toward him. and then the yelling ensues. Simon has never heard your voice stand so firm and loud before. just the utter strength and confidence you exude has never been seen before, and all he can do is sit there and quietly enjoy his meal as he, and everyone else, listens to the argument. he keeps an ear out for the sound of crashing pans or anything else that would signal the argument had gotten physical, but it isn't long later before you exit the kitchen and march over to your station where that poor girl still waited for you.

"busiest night of the week and he was mad at you over that?" you spat. "don't worry about it, he shouldn't bitch about you the rest of the night. probably be too busy bitching about me."

eventually things calm down and more or less go back to normal, but Simon still chuckles about it anyway. it's something he wished he could have seen in person, honestly, but hearing it was more than enough for him. and though he probably wouldn't bring it up to you later after your shift lest he embarrass you with the knowledge that the argument could be heard throughout the entire establishment, he is proud of you nonetheless.

#mafia!simon #mafia!ghost #mafia!141 #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #f!reader

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angelwithdemonictendencies · 3 months

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know me the way you know your childhood scars, like breathing; i wasn't running but if i was i'm glad it was to you.

tz11 x reader: a small town, a fresh start, a shared heart.

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), hair pulling, thigh-riding (this is newish), dirty talk (if you're new, welcome!), mentions of previous relationship being awful, i know i'm forgetting stuff but all my typical things. (please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: my favorites - i think jd6 getting traded was exactly what i needed in order to write a tz11 character who is actually a nice guy. i call that the best-friend-getting-a-new-best-friend-who-is-named-cam-york effect. anyways, this is long as hell (14k, anyone?), because i have recently been absolutely so over law school guys. i just want a guy who likes to get his hands dirty and actually has friends. too much to ask? okay. obviously, i got so insanely carried away here, as you will be able to tell. we've got about a million side characters, some of which you will recognize, some of which you will not, because i made them up (tell me why i'm so into the matt/bridget dynamic. could write about just them. maybe i will). you guys know that there will be plot holes and dialogue issues and the likes, but you love me anyways, and i love you for that. tz11 should enjoy this, because i know he will inevitably be back in my bad graces soon enough. next up is someone new (!) because i miss when people used to write about tyson jost left and right. hm, what else? tell me what you think, what you'd like to see. my one year anniversary since my first post is feb. 2 (i actually can't believe how fast it went by, and i'm so grateful for you for sticking with me). so, so much love to you and your snakes. go canucks. until next time.

this was probably a terrible idea, you thought, with your suitcases beside you, your head in your hands at the foot of the bed that would be yours for the foreseeable future. one bed of several at a local inn - local to this town, at least, not local to you.

no, you thought, jittery with unknowing and chance and uncertainty, none of this was familiar to you. not this town in the middle of nowhere, hundreds and hundreds of miles from your hometown, your university. not any of the few people you had interacted with, not the uber driver, the inn keeper, the housekeeping staff.

not one part of this place, this experience, not one part was familiar. but that's what you'd wanted, wasn't it? that was the whole point?

you'd wanted to find yourself, wanted to prove that you could take care of yourself, exist on your own, thrive outside of the bubble that was university.

you wanted a fresh start, away from ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend, their betrayal still fresh, a wound scabbing over on your heart. you wanted to breathe deeply and not worry about who was watching you exhale - a place where nobody knew you, where nobody could whisper about the girl whose boyfriend was cheating on her with her best friend. for three years. she's so stupid, how could she not have noticed?

well, here, you decided, that's what you would get. a humble job as a diner waitress lined up to start tomorrow, a booked room with no check-out date, not a laugh you'd recognize for miles and miles.

this is what you'd wanted, you told yourself, now, loneliness settling in your mouth the way the powder on sour candy does. this is what you have.

completely exhausted from travel and emotional havoc, you passed out that night amidst dreams of fresh starts and trees too tall to see you behind them.

such a lovely image did not last nearly an hour into the next morning, the first day of your new job, just a block or so from the inn you were staying at.

this was part of the reason you had chosen this place for your self-discovery journey, after all - the urgent hiring, competitive wage, amazingly low price for room and board.

you had worked in your university's coffee shop for a year or two to help pay your tuition, so, honestly, how different could it be?

very different, you realized, almost immediately. they were hiring urgently for a reason, which meant there was practically nobody there to train you. one of the line cooks, of all people, just threw you an apron and a name tag to wear over your uniform-compliant black skirt and shirt, mumbled something about a welcome, enunciated something louder about table three needing service.

and so your self-proclaimed new life began completely unceremoniously, with a name-tag that misspelled your name, the smell of waffles and western omelets permeating the air like some grandmother's perfume in an old living room.

at the very least, the business made the time pass quickly, as you paced from table to table, only pausing briefly to introduce yourself to the line, the host, the several curious patrons who asked about you.

"new girl," some impossibly old man husked, "they not have hot coffee where you're from?" he grimaced as he took another sip. "cold as a winter's -"

"okay, that's enough," his companion said, a woman, probably in her mid-twenties, with blonde hair chopped short. she gave you a sympathetic look, like you two were sharing some inside joke. you liked her immediately. "he's had about twelve cups already. don't mind him."

you felt your mouth tick up in a smile for what might have been the first time this morning as you introduced yourself to her, and her father, who you learned everyone affectionately called "old man peters." you learned that the young woman's name was bridget, and she insisted on giving you her number, in case you had any questions, or wanted to get together, or needed anything at all.

your day was already looking up, you thought, as you lifted your sulking ponytail from you back, loose strands curling at the nape of your neck, around your ears. bridget and old man peters bid you goodbye, and then the young host, a boy who stuttered so much over his name that you still didn't quite know what it was, sheepishly alerted you that he had seated a group at the booth in your section.

your flipped to a new page in your notepad as you walked back to the booth, your gaze quickly being tugged up by a drawl-ish voice blurting out "dibs! i call dibs!"

such as exclamation was followed by several groans and one "not fair, you're the only one facing the door."

your brow was slightly scrunched in confusion when you stood at the head of the group's table, four pairs of eyes faced to you in a way that made you feel like a politician about to give a speech.

you cleared your throat, not quite looking anyone in the face. "good morning," you said, "can i get you guys started with some drinks?"

you looked up from your notepad, clicking your pen against the surface of it, taking in the table of - well, you weren't really sure. construction workers, maybe? craftsmen? the four of them had on heavy canvas-like jackets, worn and worked in, highlighter-bright shirts underneath, callused hands that your observant eyes took note of immediately. they were young, too, probably about your age, which made you blush, only a little. these were not the kind of guys you had met in college, the kind who you would have taken a class on freud with, the kind who thought everything with a woman's hand around it was a phallic symbol.

"just coffee," one of them said, short. he tacked on a please when one of his friends smacked him lightly on the back of the head.

you motioned with your pen around the whole table. "for everyone?" you asked, but the question stumbled out of your mouth when your eyes caught on the last of the four, the one on the bench on the right, closest to you.

that sharp face, high cheekbones and cut jaw, should have been so serious, you thought, like some kind of statue, the kind your art history friends would have fawned over in a museum you didn't really want to go to. he should have been so serious, angular like that, but he was anything but. mirth danced in his eyes, so bright they almost sparkled. his full mouth was fixed in a sort of perpetual smirk, so ready to laugh that he was already halfway there. he had the lines around his eyes that told you his full smile would tear you in two.

you were probably staring at him, you realized, flushing deeper as his smirk broke free into something wider, all over his face.

"see, guys," he spoke, that goofy drawl you had noticed on your way over, nothing like the pretentious academics who spoke in circles. he leaned back in the booth. "doesn't matter that i called dibs. she likes me best anyways."

your face scrunched up in some combination of disbelief and hidden delight. "wait," you began, "when i was walking over here, when you said something about dibs," you fixed him with what you hoped was a glare, "you were calling dibs on me?"

he shrugged off his jacket, drawing attention to his wide shoulders, arms thick even through his bright long sleeve. you snapped your gaze back to his eyes, which shimmered, telling you that you'd been caught. "what's the big deal?"

you scoffed, blew a stray curl from your eye line. "you don't call dibs on people," you said.

"yeah, trevor," one of his friends teased, "what's wrong with you?"

"where to begin?" one of the others said, almost lost in thought.

"c'mon, sugar," trevor said, tilting his head, "'s a compliment, yeah?" his gaze rolled down your frame, almost gelatinous, meeting your eyes again reluctantly. "only 'cause you're so pretty, hm?"

you rolled your eyes, fixed your gaze on the one across from him, the one who looked the least engaged. "but, trevor," you whined, stretching out his name like salt-water taffy, "what if i wanted-" you paused, looked down at the blonde just below you.

"matt," he said, practically bored. you nodded your thanks.

"what if i wanted matt?"

his posture grew even more relaxed as he shifted his knees wider under the table. "oh, what if, sugar?" he mused, his eyes so expressive, never off of you for a moment.

"she's gonna spit in your coffee," matt said.

"how about we cut out the middle man and she just spits in my mouth?" he chirped, smirk so telling it made you flush pink.

you mumbled something about decorum before walking away in a flurry of annoyance and excitement. you couldn't really tell the difference, you realized, as you gave the poor host a pot of coffee and asked him kindly to drop it off at the back booth.

you were not something to be called dibs on, that was for sure, and you were here to find yourself, not anyone else, certainly not some guy. even if some guy had soft-looking hair and a witty mouth. even then.

you took a stabilizing breath and got back to work, noting that the back booth only got coffee, only stayed for about twenty minutes before making to leave, heavy jackets loud as they shrugged them back on.

three of the guys called out their thanks and headed out, leaving only a standing trevor there when you approached to settle their bill. thumbing through his wallet, he grinned down at you when you finally stood in front of him again.

he was taller than you thought, you realized, as he now stood at full height. you had to crane your neck slightly to look him fully in the face.

"thought you'd be shorter," you said, honestly, hoping to knock him down a peg, however mean that might have been. but of course he only smirked.

"get that a lot," he drawled, selecting a bill, putting his wallet back in his pocket with hands you had to force yourself not to stare at. "been told 've got the personality of a short guy in the body of a tall one."

you shook your head. of course someone had told him that.

you couldn't really ruminate on that, though, as he stuck the twenty in the front pocket of your apron, as well as something with a slight weight to it, urging an angry pink to the tops of your ears, the feeling of his wide hand warm, so close to you.

you peered up at him, sucked on your teeth as he pulled out his hand slowly, that ever-present smirk almost faltering at your gaze.

"thanks for the service, sugar," he said, and you probably imagined the way the end of his words sounded strained. "see you around, yeah?"

you didn't break eye contact, only let yourself smile back at him before turning and getting back to work, letting the push and pull of waitressing lull you into a rhythm during which it was practically impossible to think too heavily about bright eyes and broad shoulders.

by the end of your shift, you had been officially tired out. you were sure your hair reeked of coffee, and your ankles ached from standing all day.

going to empty your apron, however, right before you left, your hand settled on the bill from earlier, but also several wrapped butterscotch candies. your face contorted as you stared at them, wondering why trevor had put them there.

exhaustion won over curiosity though, as you thanked everyone for your first day and walked the short block back to the inn.

this won't be that bad, you were thinking to yourself as you walked up the stairs. you already had the phone number of a maybe-friend, after all, and as far as jobs went, this one could be a lot worse. good money, good way to meet new people, maybe even something pretty to look at -

as if summoned by your thoughts, when you turned out of the staircase to your hallway, there trevor was, standing on a ladder, looking into the ceiling, some box of tools on the floor.

you narrowed your eyes, bag suddenly feeling heavy on your shoulder. the presence of a new figure drew his gaze to you, and you had to scold your heart, the way it beat like a teenager at the way he looked at you, then. you didn't know him, after all, and you weren't here for anything romantic.

"you followin' me, sugar?" he asked, stepped down from the ladder, making his way over to you. his voice was slow and tired, from whatever he had done that day. you were shocked at the fact that you wanted to know what that was. his gaze shone as he gently took your bag from your shoulder and slugged it onto his own, fell into step beside you. you let him. "tell me you're following me."

you rolled your eyes, but the small smile on your face wasn't going anywhere. "this is where i'm staying," you explained, "so, if anything, you're following me."

you stopped in front of your door, leaned back against it, suddenly in no rush to lock yourself behind it, alone. not when he was on this side of the door, looking like this.

almost weary with hard work, but not weary enough to sour him, just enough to make his movements and expressions slightly slower, lazier, more indulgent, like they were drenched in chocolate ganache. not when he was here, looking at you like this, like you were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen.

after years at some preppy, pretentious university, at which ingenuity was the most valuable currency, one you felt you lacked so disgustingly, was it really too surprising that you softened under his gaze? that you wanted to stay in it, just a little bit longer?

"sugar?" he asked, head tilted, and you realized he had been talking.

"sorry, what?" you asked, your voice soft like sponge cake, willing your eyes to focus, your mind to focus harder.

he didn't tease you too badly, though, only let his smile grow sharper with a smirk. "i said that 'm sorry if i hurt your feelings with the dibs stuff," he said, and you were almost confused at his apology. you weren't even upset, and when was the last time someone had apologized to you so quickly after doing something?

your memory cut hazily to your ex, somehow trying to convince you it had been your fault that he cheated on you, that it was something you were lacking that had inevitably led him to do that. you practically shivered, then internally scolded yourself for comparing trevor, whom you had met today, you reminded yourself, to your ex-boyfriend.

"'s fine," you said, waving him off, your back softening further into the door. "didn't really hurt my feelings."

his eyes flashed. "didn't really or didn't, sugar?" he asked, searching your face.

you swallowed, acutely aware of his attention, how it slid down your nose, your cheeks, your jaw, slow and thick as sludge. "didn't."

he gave a nod. "'m sorry anyway," he said, and it came out low. "if you really want to go for matt, i won't stop you."

and part of you wanted to blurt out i don't want matt!

but it was your first day in this place, and honestly, you were still kind of hung up on his apology, and the way it sounded from his chapped lips, and you knew to correct him would be exactly what he wanted.

so you just said "thank you," and were shocked at how gentle it sounded.

"jesus christ, distracted, are we, trev?" the voice of the young inn-keeper called from the end of the hallway. he seemed awfully chipper as he approached, hands in his pockets. "i came up to check on your progress," he said, "or lack thereof, i guess." he looked between the two of you. "now i see who's stolen your attention."

"i'm on my legally-required fifteen minute break," trevor said, half-smiling, turning back to you. "sugar, you know my brother, griff?"

you nodded, suddenly clocking the subtle ways their appearances drew from each other. trevor was taller, griff had a wider face, bigger features. but they had the same eyes, same strong nose, mirroring grins. "he owns my room," you said, dumbly, tiredly.

griff only smiled. "she's had a long day, trev, leave her be."

trevor searched your face again, seemed to find all the proof he needed - your heavy eyelids, drooping shoulders. he gently handed your bag back to you. "i'll see you tomorrow, sugar," he said, as soft as you'd heard him. so soft it startled you. "sweet dreams."

"goodnight," you said to both of them, shutting the door behind you. sleep came easily that night, again, with dreams less so of hiding behind trees and more so of rough hands and laughing eyes.

you were surprised, pleasantly so, at how quickly you fell into a routine in your new home. surprised at how quickly you let yourself call this place that.

maybe it was the way that bridget wasn't just being polite when she had given you her phone number, as she had quickly set up dates to show you all her favorite hiking spots around. your weekly hikes with her became a highlight as she told you more about the town, about her young daughter, about book club, about anything and everything. she was so kind with you that you found yourself so comfortable confiding in her. it felt so easy calling her a friend.

maybe it was the way the town seemed to accept you as one of their own so quickly and genuinely. the line cooks flirted with you in the way only line cooks do (in ways that would not be acceptable outside of a kitchen). they made you food to take home, kept you from starving. the host, harry, began to trust you enough that he asked for your help on homework. the regulars began to recognize you, know your name, ask how you were doing. griff checked in on you, asked if anything was wrong with the room, said you should feel free to use his kitchen anytime (as your room was the simplest kind, and didn't have any cooking appliances). you began to know the names of the streets, the stores, the store owners. your fresh start was starting to feel like just that - a start.

or maybe it was that same group of guys who came in every morning, at the same time, who ordered only coffee and then left in a flush of waves and heavy jackets and called-out salutations. you learned that the one with the curly hair, alex, was the quietest, probably the smartest. his closest friend, cole, was the shorter one, who had the loudest laugh. and matt was warming up to you, you thought. the more you made fun of trevor, the more he seemed to like you.

it was that same group, every day, who came in loudly and left louder, who had paint and dirt smudged on their shirts, their hands. who drank coffee like it was water. who laughed like it was easy as breathing, and maybe that was how it was supposed to be.

and, of course, there was trevor, who, the more you got to know him, the more trouble he became. every day, his "good morning, sugar," would reverberate through your chest, and you would drop a pot of coffee at their table, ask how they were doing, listen for their answers.

some comments about how old man peters' roof is caving in, and he should have told them about it probably a year ago, or about how the police chief's plumbing is fucked, or about how they were going over to fix bridget's sink that day. and, if it was the last one, matt would flush, which would make your eyes widen, would make you pepper him with questions about his crush.

and then, at some point during their morning break, trevor would ask something about you, about how you were, about the way you were wearing your hair, the shoes you were wearing, the book you had been reading the week before. and then, as he left, without fail, he would slip a bill and several butterscotch candies into your apron pocket, each time his hand growing heavier, more significant as it settled so close to you.

it didn't particularly help your small crush that you saw him everywhere. he was always fixing something - in the diner, at the inn, in the park downtown. you couldn't escape him and his deft hands, his working mind, his strong frame and easy laugh and addictive smile.

he was everywhere, so of course he would be here, at the grocery store, after your shift one day. you were roaming the isles, looking for a specific kind of vinegar, your basket hoisted up onto your hip, when a low whistle made you turn. you were met with that lazy smirk, your favorite one of his, the nighttime one, the tired one. he approached you, his work boots heavy on the ground.

"you followin' me, trevor?" you asked, repeating what become something of an inside joke between the two of you.

"maybe," he said, looking down at you, shimmering eyes framed by long lashes. "do you want me to be following you, sugar?"

you hummed, noncommittal, some harmony between the fluorescent lights above, the whir of the fridges the next isle over. you turned back to the shelving, resumed your survey of the contents. "your brother offered his kitchen for me to use while he's out tonight," you said, not looking at him.

"did he?" trevor mused, an almost undetectable bite in his tone.

you nodded, eyes alight with excitement. "been eating pancakes and chicken noodle soup for weeks now," you said, referring to what the line cooks sent you home with. "swear my mouth's watering just thinking about something different." you ran a thumb along your bottom lip, as if checking for spit.

if you had been looking at trevor, you would have see his shallow swallow, the way his eyes tracked your movement, how his gaze hung from your mouth like lacy ribbon. he cleared his throat.

you finally located the vinegar you wanted, on the very top shelf. pushing yourself up on your tiptoes, you reached the tips of your fingers for the bottle, only just out of reach.

trevor only chuckled as he grabbed the bottle easily, took the basket from your hip and into his own hand, dropping the vinegar into it.

"i can carry that, you know," you said, suddenly wishing you had something to do with your hands.

"i know," he said, smug.

you rolled your eyes, huffed a thank you, anyways.

"so, what're you making?" he asked as you led him from aisle to aisle, loading your basket with ingredients.

you explained to him how, in college, this one salad had been your absolute favorite to make when you needed something that made you feel good. something about the combination of arugula, kale, chickpeas, sweet potato, whatever other vegetables you had on hand, sometimes chicken, if you were feeling fancy, something about the simple dressing of oil and vinegar - it was perfect. no meal left you feeling as good as this one did.

and it was how you had made it entirely on your own, too - it wasn't some fancy steak dinner your ex had buttered you up with after a fight, it wasn't boxed brownies shared with your old best friend the night before you found out - no, this was all you.

when you looked back at trevor, there was something molten in his gaze. "sounds amazing," he said, low, like he didn't want anyone else to hear.

you tilted your head, let your smile slant across you face, scrunched up your nose, teasing. "would you want to join me for dinner, trevor?"

his face split into a grin. "i would," he said, "i would want to, please."

and so you found yourself fumbling around someone else's kitchen with an audience, washing kale and peeling sweet potatoes with fingers that twitched towards the figure across the counter, practically irritated that they weren't touching him.

you scolded your hands to behave, which became easier as the night went on, as conversation flowed like cranberry juice, the flavor of it lingering in your mouth just the same.

he might ask you about how the diner was going, to which you would look around as if to make sure no one was there. his eyes would flash. you would miss this.

"harry's been making some real progress in precalc," you would say from behind your hand, speaking of the host, whom you had come to view very fondly. "and you didn't hear it from me, but i think he's going to ask his friend jason to the school dance next weekend."

you would be flushed with excitement and pride, and trevor wouldn't be able to get much beyond that, honestly, the way it lit you up from the inside out.

but then he would clear his throat, and lean forward on his hands, and tell you that if harry needed help asking jason to the dance, he knew exactly the best crew for the job.

"don't tell me you're talking about your rag-tag group of misfits," you would say, cocking a brow as you dressed the kale and arugula.

and he would feign offense, place a broad hand over his heart. "i'll have you know that this group of misfits went 16/16 in high school dance invitations," he would say. "all four of us, all four years."

you might roll your eyes. "real band of heartbreakers, were you?" you would say.

and laughter would shine behind his eyes like christmas tree lights behind store windows, and he would stretch his arms above his head, lazily, comfortably. "'course not," he would say, his voice the sort of raspy that comes with stretching, "only alex."

and this would pull a real laugh from you, as you tossed everything together, the kind of laugh that rung in his ears, that made him pleasantly dizzy.

as the night passed on, time moving altogether too fast and the kind of slow that oozes, you would learn about how he grew up in this town, how he went to trade school, how he had had the same friends his entire life. you would ask questions about if he ever felt the desire to leave (not really), how he got into manual labor (he never really felt like he was that good at anything else), what his family was like (close, but not overbearingly so).

and, in turn, between bites and sips and laughs, you would tell him about how you grew up (humbly), what school was like (hard, but rewarding), how you ended up here (cheap housing, good job, close community). and maybe you would actually tell him about the ultimate betrayal you had faced before you left, why that made you want to be somewhere, anywhere else, somewhere where you had no choice but to make a life entirely for yourself.

at the mention of your ex his jaw might clench, his mouth twitching ever so slightly. he would mutter something about nonsense, and you would smile.

he would ask questions about your family (just your dad and you), your favorite parts of your life here (hikes with bridget, homework sessions with harry, bickering with old man peters).

and he would pout, at that, his bottom lip looking so positively delicious it stole your breath. "'m not your favorite, sugar?" he would plead, joking.

maybe you would really look in his eyes, then, find something hot, tilt your head. "you wanna be?" you would ask, breathier than you intended.

and he would smirk, somehow flipping the dynamic on its head entirely with only a single expression. "you know i do, sugar," he would tell you, low and so loaded you would blush.

it might scare you how easily you let him in, how quickly you were warming up to him. his pretty face might scare you, because pretty faces had hurt you before. there had been no one prettier than your old best friend, after all, and look how that turned out.

so, when the night grew viscous, and the meal was long over, the dishes done, a portion for griff packed up in tubberware on the counter, when he walked you upstairs to your room, both of your steps slow, reluctant, when his gaze lingered on your lips and the smell of him grew distracting, the height of him all-consuming, even then, even though you wanted to, you didn't kiss him. you only bid him a gentle goodnight.

"thank you for tonight," he would say, instead, looping his arms around your neck, hugging you close to his chest. this was so much worse, you thought, as you breathed him in, wrapped your own arms around him and squeezed. the way he held you like he was afraid what would happen if he let go. his hair so messy and his tone so genuine it almost hurt. "sweet dreams, sugar," he said into your hair before pulling away.

even though, that night, you might have dreamed about how his rough hands might feel as they held your soft cheek, how his chapped lips might slot against your glossed mouth. even if you woke up, that next morning, practically sweating. not the sweetest of dreams.

today was your day off. you had plans later with bridget, but you decided to book a haircut and blowout at the salon downtown, since you had the whole morning to yourself. the salon was one place you hadn't been in, yet, and you hadn't had a haircut in months, so you figured now was a good a time as any.

the bell above the door rang when you stepped inside, but no one seemed to notice over the shrill thrum of hair dryers, sinks, and the steady stream of gossip that you appeared to have walked in on.

"she told me her trevor went on a date, julia," one of the stylists said seriously, her eyes expressive as she sectioned her client's head of long curls. "won't stop rambling on and on about her, she says."

your heart jumped in your chest at trevor's name, sunk accordingly. he had been on a date? you weren't sure why you had assumed you were the only girl in his life at the moment, but it stung, nonetheless. you pulled at a thread on your long sleeve, eyes down.

you can't be upset, you told yourself, don't you dare be disappointed-

"oh, honey, how long you been waiting?" one of the stylists called out, making her way over to you and the front desk. "swear you have to throw somethin' at one of us when you come in or we'll never stop talking." she had such an easy way of speaking, a comfortable posture, a genuine face.

"sorry," you said, looking around, still recovering from what you'd overhead.

she just waved you off with a smile. "it's us motormouths who should be apologizing," she said before introducing herself as ginger. "now, what name is your appointment under?"

you told ginger your name, and as soon as you did, her eyes sailed up to meet yours again, wide and bright. she snapped her fingers, getting the room's attention. "you're the doll who stole our baby trevor's heart!"

you blushed furiously, felt the words in your mouth twist and tangle like a toddler's hair. "me? no, that can't be right," you said. there's no way last night counted as a date, you thought. there's no way he's talking about me.

the other stylist just squealed as you were led to a chair. "of course it's you! look at her, julia," she said to the woman in her chair, practically elated, "what a treasure!"

your blush wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

"that boy's been talkin' to 's mama 'bout you, honey," julia said from her chair, her expression knowing. "he's just about smitten, she says."

"and a mother always knows," ginger said, emphasizing her words with hairbrush gestures.

so you spent your appointment getting a couple inches off, hearing about the trouble trevor used to get in when he was younger (apparently alex used to be the biggest troublemaker, though), hearing about how trevor just went around fixing whatever anyone needed fixing.

"swear that sweet boy wouldn't charge a dime if this town'd let him," ginger said as she worked long layers into your hair, "we have to sneak payment into his pockets, and even then he tries to give it back!"

your cheeks burned, your heart heavy with affection as she blew out your hair, leaving it soft and smooth. you paid, said goodbye for about ten minutes, found out just how hard it was to escape salon conversation.

"now go show off for our baby, honey!" someone called out the door after you, making you laugh. you guessed that all the stereotypes about small town hair salons were true.

you went on your weekly hike with bridget, who gave you that understated grin when she saw you. "looking good," she said, bumping her shoulder into yours. "trev doesn't stand a chance."

you rolled your eyes. "didn't get my hair cut for him."

she laughed. "i know," she responded, "but all anyone can talk about this morning is your date last night."

you couldn't help but scoff good-naturedly. "i can't believe people already know about this," you said, "it was literally last night, and it wasn't even a date."

she waved you off. "nobody cares about the logistics. even my girl was moping to me about it. she's got a little crush on her skating instructor."

"trevor teaches your daughter how to skate?" you asked, having never heard of this.

she nodded. "he's the highlight of her week," she said, her eyes soft, picturing her daughter's unabashed smile.

"get in line," you mumbled, covering your face with your hands.

why was everyone so intent on revealing adorable information about trevor to you today? didn't they know he already took up enough of your daily headspace?

"can't somebody tell me he hates animals, or something? or that he's really pretentious about art? or that he has, like, some weird fetish?"

bridget laughed. "sorry, babe," she said, "he's the town's sweetheart."

you were still reeling with all of this information when you got back to the inn, your face rosy from the outside chill, your body pleasantly awake from your walk.

you began up the stairs, humming to yourself, ready to collapse onto your bed, maybe catch up on some reading.

"you followin' me, sugar?"

you looked up, immediately, feeling your pulse in your neck, in your teeth.

there he was, of course, there he was, painting the railing in the stairwell, the sharp smell of paint faint in the air.

all dirtied up from the day, that slouch that only appeared in the late afternoon, that crinkly smile, all of it made him almost too good to be real.

"maybe," you said, like second nature now, after all those times before, his face forcing a tiny smile from your mouth.

you stood just in front of him now, held your breath as he reached up, twirled a strand of your hair around a finger. he let out a low whistle you felt in your stomach.

"lookin' awful pretty tonight," he said, not much more than a whisper as he thumbed the soft ends of your freshly-cut hair.

his words settled like thick caramel on your tongue. "thank you," you mustered, your mind spinning with all of the wonderful things you had heard about him, today.

he bent down to one knee in front of you as you collected your thoughts. "um, what are you doing?" you said, strained, dumb.

he looked up at you through those girlish lashes, smirk heavy on his perfect face. he tugged your foot closer to him. "shoe's untied," he said, gesturing to your sneaker. "may i?"

you blinked at him before nodding, because what alternate universe was this? you tried to imagine any other man you'd known willingly getting on the floor for you, just to tie your shoe. you couldn't.

he tightened your laces with nimble hands.

you cleared your throat. "heard something funny today from the ladies at the salon," you told him, trying to focus on something other than his proximity.

he hummed. "nothin' good, i'll bet," he mused, "ginger loves a good story."

"it was a good story," you said, reveled in the way his expression softened, giving you the courage to press on. he began to tie a double knot. "'bout how you're tellin' your mom we went on a date."

he pulled the bow tight, looked up a you for a second, a guilty, childish grin on his face, caught red-handed. you extended a hand to him, helped him back to his feet.

"oh, yeah," he said smugly, folding his arms across his chest, leaning back against the wall, easy, comfortable. "like how you asked me to dinner, and then cooked for me, and how it 100% was a date-"

you laughed, shook your head. "it was not!" you said, "i never said it was a date!"

he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "call it wishful thinking, then, sugar."

and you couldn't focus too much on what he meant by that, so you just shook your head again. "you're too much," you said, wanting it to come out teasing, but instead there was a breathy sort of desperation behind it.

"yeah?" he asked, that smirk present as ever. you had grown so close to him without realizing it, now just a step away. him leaning back against the wall, you right in front of him, looking up at him.

you nodded, swallowed, your blood hot, your skin prickly, alive.

his eyes fixed you in place, teasing. "too much for you, sugar? can't take it?"

you bit your lip to stop any sound from escaping you, because everything seemed entirely too loud, then. you could hear your heartbeat, you swore you could hear his, the radiator could have been screaming at you. you didn't dare think about just how much you wanted to take.

to stop yourself from doing something much more serious, you simply reached your hand forward, swiped at a spot of paint on his face with your thumb.

your touch against his brow bone felt like an exhale, like melting wax. you could feel his warm breath on your hand as you pulled it back, but then he was looking at you, like that, like you were so, so special, like he would have doused his face in paint just to have your hands wipe it all away, and were you imagining the way his gaze grew fiery?

"trev! old man peters says his sink's still leaking!"

griff's voice rattled down the stairwell, smothering the flames in your eyes, if only just. just enough to break the spell, to pull away, to tell him you'd see him tomorrow for his coffee break, for his hungry gaze to follow you up the stairs until you were out of sight.

and so the routine continued, more butterscotch candies slipped into aprons, more pestering his friends, more slyly asking bridget what she thought about matt (she was deflecting, you'd observed, delighted). more helping with homework and reading in bed and cooking and snapping at old man peters to stop leaving his watch behind.

more stolen touches and longing glances and sideways smiles, backwards hats and work gloves stuffed in pockets, damp hair sticking to your neck, the hem of your skirt brushing against your thigh. more flame and softness and sweetness drenching your frame as he said hello, and goodbye, and sweet dreams, and anything else. that coil inside of you twisted tighter and tighter as you wondered what exactly was holding you back, what exactly you were waiting for.

one day, after work, there was a knock at your door. you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little bit disappointed when you opened it.

"you coming?" griff said, "town hall meeting starts in 5."

you scrunched up your nose. "town hall? what, is it required?"

he smiled, kind. "no, but they're usually a good time," he said, "and trevor's going to be there."

you had your jacket in your hand already. "he's not the reason i'm coming," you said, following him out the door and down the street.

"i won't tell anyone," was all griff replied, his smile understanding and gentle.

you had never been to a town hall meeting before. you'd guessed that the closest thing you could imagine was a student government meeting, which you'd been a part of in college.

this seemed much more laid back, though, taking place in the middle school gymnasium. it looked like almost everyone from town was here. you noticed old man peters, sitting with bridget, her daughter buzzing around from person to person. the salon ladies were talking to pretty much everybody. there was harry, sitting next to his mom. you approached bridget as griff went up to talk to the fire chief, one of his close friends.

soon enough, the meeting began, the first issue on the docket being the prospect of a stoplight on the intersection of drysdale avenue and york street.

bridget yawned, "same issue every meeting," she whispered to you. "always divided down the middle." this time was no different, you observed, the parents in the crowd seemed completely for the stoplight, the older crowd significantly against.

"next issue, a write in from the community, quote," the representative began, reading from notecards, "should the implementation of the 'dibs' rule be observed seriously, unquote." he cleared his throat, looked up to the crowd. "thoughts?"

you stifled an embarrassed laugh, held your face in your hands as bridget rubbed soothing circles in your back. "is this actually a real-life discussion topic?" you asked, incredulous.

"just let them have their fun," she whispered in a way that made her smile evident.

"i think 'dibs' is outdated and juvenile," a woman said, "sets a bad example for the kids."

the man up front was taking notes.

"i think it's cute," bridget piped up from her chair.

"me, too!" her daughter giggled, jumping into her lap.

"alright, i've got two for cute, one for bad influence," the man said, "anyone else?"

"i think it's lame," a very matt-like voice said, gruff, short.

"one for lame," the scribe said aloud.

"well, i think you're lame," that goofy drawl called out, making you pull your head up, look around until you spotted him, near the front. he was swatting matt on the back of the head. "and i learned it from alex, so take it up with him."

his curly-haired friend hid a smirk. "it's a high school move," he explained to the crowd, before turning to face trevor. "we haven't done it in years."

"until now," trevor amended, "but you guys understand. you've seen her. you've talked to her."

ginger put her hand over her heart as if swooning.

someone coughed. your face was burning up. bridget nudged you gently.

"she's here, trev," griff said, to which the fire chief let out a hearty laugh.

"really?" he turned to face the crowd, his voice excited, hopeful, searching. "where are you, sugar?"

you raised your hand, of all things, immediately wanted to smack yourself. "hey," you said, mousy.

"hey," he parroted, mocking, but of course not maliciously. his smile broke you apart.

and then you were having a conversation with several rows of people in chairs between you, on a gymnasium floor.

"you're the only one with the dibs curse on you," he said, "so what's your take on it? should we abolish the practice for good? is it outdated?"

you swallowed, were looking only at him as the scribe sat at the front, pen at the ready. "well," you began, "it works, from what i can tell." his smile put you together again. "so it can't be that outdated."

his eyes shone, only for you. "you heard her," he said, "case closed."

"are we actually still talking about this?" old man peters asked, to bridget, but much too loudly.

the rest of the meeting passed, absolutely delivering on laughs and nonsense, as promised.

"last thing before we go," the man said, "does everyone have a ride to the away game tomorrow?"

you leaned over to bridget. "what's that?"

"the rec hockey team is away this weekend," she whispered.

"rec hockey?" you said, confused, "like kids?"

she shook her head. "like kids, yes, but not kids."

"sugar, do you have a ride?" trevor's voice rang clear against the mumbled chatter of the room.

you looked up, met his eyes again. "uh, i don't think i'm going?" you said.

there was a collective gasp, followed by silence. your eyes widened. "babe," bridget whisper-screamed at you. "everyone goes."

you cleared your throat, realizing your grave error. "well, then i don't have a ride."

"you can ride with me, honey," ginger said, sweetly, with a warning in her eye.

"trevor has to go super early since he's playing," bridget whispered from next to you. you nodded, signaling that you had heard her.

"thank you!" you called out.

rides were sorted, the meeting ended, everyone saying their goodbyes, folding chairs scraping against the waxy floor. trevor and his friends caught up with you and bridget on your way out.

trevor slung a heavy arm around your shoulders that you couldn't help but lean into. he smelled like sawdust and something citrusy. "i didn't know you played hockey," you said, looking up at him curiously, not letting yourself ruminate on how good he felt slotted against your side.

he shrugged.

bridget scoffed. "he's good, too," she said, "i hate to pump his tires, but only the best teacher for my baby girl." she pressed a kiss to the cheek of her smiley daughter, whom she had hoisted up onto her hip. "all of them play," she said, a vague gesture to the group. "lit it up in high school."

"not all of them are as good, though," trevor said, which caused some annoyed groans.

"what about heartbreaker alex, over here?" you teased.

"heartbreaker alex has grown up since junior year," alex said, soft spoken. "and it's not my fault my hair looks like this."

the shortest friend of the group, cole, the one with the loudest laugh, whom you had come to rely upon for book recommendations, put a hand in line with his brow bone, as if blocking out the sun to search for something.

"what are you doing?" alex asked.

"oh, me?" cole said, "just looking for all the girls you must be getting, since you've still got all that hair."

alex rolled his eyes, the group laughed.

"what about you, matt?" you asked as trevor held open the door, all of you stepping out into the night air. "i've heard the team's got a perfect record for dance invites. any high school stories?"

matt didn't say anything for a second, but bridget laughed. "you're really telling people that, trev, as if i didn't ask him freshman year?" she nodded towards matt, who was actually blushing, you thought, but the dark made it hard to tell. "was a tough sell, eh? he was so quiet when i asked i thought he pretending that i wasn't there."

"oh, we remember," cole said, tone alight with understanding. "funny how we grow up, but so much stays the sa-" he blew out a breath when matt elbowed him in the gut.

you smiled to yourself. "i'll see all of you tomorrow, for the game, then?" you said, the inn now steps away.

goodbyes rang out, and you made to remove yourself from trevor's embrace, but he only spun you back into his chest, pulling you close, his arms now wrapped around your back, your nose against his breastbone. you breathed in, melted into him, squeezed him back.

"did you mean it?" he said, soft, so only you would hear him.

you mumbled your confusion into his chest.

"when you said it was working? did you mean it?"

your heart jumped, his words so vulnerable you couldn't look at him. "i meant it," you whispered into his bright shirt. "you're working on me, trevor." you felt his lips brush against your hair, featherlight, before he let you go.

"sweet dreams, sugar," he said, and you walked back to your room with wobbly legs and an overactive heart.

the following day, ginger graciously gave you a ride to the next town over. she, of course, chatted you up the entire time, which you welcomed.

"i know i must be super late to the party here," you said, carefully, picking at your nails, "but what's the story behind bridget and matt?"

ginger tsked. "we're a bad influence on you, honey," she said, taking a right. "you're gonna be a big mouth like me in no time."

you laughed. "it's only 'cause matt's so obvious about it," you told her, "they've known each other forever, and i learned yesterday that she asked him to their freshman dance." you trailed off, hoping that ginger would take your cue.

she nodded, smiled fondly. "our bridget was always such a spitfire," she said, "always going for what she wanted. smart as a whip, too, but you know that."

you nodded. you did.

"and she could have had anyone, but she wanted our matthew, and he wasn't a sight for sore eyes then, like he is now."

is matt good-looking? you'd thought to yourself. you surely hadn't noticed. perhaps you were distracted. perhaps your gaze always wandered.

"but bridget marched right up, asked him to the dance, and the poor boy was so stunned it took him a full minute to say yes." she shook her head, lost in the memory.

"did they ever date, like for real?" you asked, enraptured.

she frowned. "no, i don't think so, at least. bridget was always bouncing around flings, trying out guys for a few weeks, then cuttin' 'em loose." her smile grew wistful. "then she had her darling girl, middle of senior year. dad booked it, never looked back. don't think she's been with anyone since."

you frowned, too, hating the thought of someone abandoning your friend, as lovely and wonderful as she was. what a privilege it would be to be a part of her family.

"and matt?" you asked, as the car pulled into the parking lot. you ran your palms up and down your jeans.

ginger whistled. "that boy's been starry-eyed over her since grade five," she said, "but me and the girls aren't surprised he thinks he doesn't have a shot. his self-esteem's never been the highest, not like the rest of 'em."

"not like cole, who swears he could land a plane, if it came around to it?" you said, grinning.

ginger laughed. "exactly. and not like alex, who was never without a girlfriend, and not like your trevor, who's never needed anyone to tell him how great he is."

you sucked on your teeth. "but we do, anyways," you reminded her.

"that we do, honey," she finished, putting the car in park. "let's go cheer on those knuckleheads, shall we?"

the rink was colder than you thought it would be. the walls were practically made of aluminum foil. you wrapped your arms around yourself, blew out a foggy breath, followed ginger to the away section, absolutely packed with everyone you recognized.

as you settled into the stands, your eyes immediately searched for trevor.

"he's number 11," bridget said, coming to stand next to you.

you rolled your eyes. "and what number is matt?"

she shoved you, playfully, but when spoke, it was bashful. "12," she said. "cole's 22 and alex is 39. police chief is 8, fireman spence is the goalie, and griff is the ref."

you furrowed your brow. "isn't that a conflict of interest?" you asked.

she huffed in a laugh. "if anything, it's a disadvantage for us."

the game started, and you realized very early on that maybe trevor hadn't been lying when he said not all of them are as good. he practically flew around the ice, graceful, mesmerizing. and it was obvious that he wasn't looking to show off, either, that he was just playing to have fun, and if he really wanted to, he could run the scoresheet up into oblivion.

you could feel bridget smile beside you. "yeah," she sighed. "it's pretty crazy."

"he could play professionally," you breathed.

she shrugged. "he's happy," she said simply.

cole scored twice, the other team clawed their way back in. griff threw alex in the box for boarding, which old man peters, even with his granddaughter in his lap, would not let go, keeping a one-man ref, you suck! chant going long after the power play was over.

"does he know it's griff?" you asked bridget.

"of course he does," she said. "he'll buy him a beer after this."

such was small town life, you supposed.

in the end, fireman spence made some crucial saves, keeping it tied late into the third. with about a minute left, trevor made an unreal, practically magical pass to matt, who finished it off in a one-timer that sunk into the back of the net.

the crowd erupted. you and bridget jumped up and down, holding each other as the goal horn sounded.

the team went through the line in celebration, then skating by the away section before the next face off.

trevor blew you a kiss. you shook your head at him, but couldn't wipe the smile off of your face.

the game ended in a win, and the town migrated over to the local bar. you busied yourself with harry's mom, telling her that no, she had nothing to worry about, yes, harry was quiet, but he was kind as anything, and that was most important.

everyone cheered when the team walked in. you clapped along with them, feeling a smile tug at your lips as soon as your eyes locked on trevor.

his eyes found yours immediately, that lazy grin following as he squeezed past people to get to you.

you met him halfway, a hazy neon light over your heads, making color dance in his eyes like starlight. his long hair was damp, curly at the ends in a way that made you want to reach up and tug at them.

"speechless, eh, sug?" he teased, shrugging one shoulder with exaggerated arrogance. "i know, my play tends to evoke that reaction from people. i-"

you scrunched your mouth to the side, smacked him lightly in the chest. "god forbid i try to think of something nice to say to you," you said, smiling. you made to pull you hand back, but his warm, wide palm came up to cover it, holding it against his chest.

you exhaled, looked up at him, unsure.

"what was your favorite part?" he asked, those shining eyes careful. "did you like cole's between-the-legs? or maybe my last assist?" he winked. "always a crowd favorite."

suddenly confidence welled up inside of you, a vault. but we tell him anyways, you had said. that we do.

tell him, the overhead lights whispered.

"when you blew me a kiss," you said, reaching your free hand up to cup his jaw, textured under your touch from his five-o'clock-shadow. "that was my favorite part."

flame crept into his gaze abruptly, suddenly, shockingly. he settled his other hand on your hip, pulled you closer to him, his grip making your breath catch. "was it?" there was a roughness to his voice that felt tangible.

you nodded slowly, speaking to his mouth. you weren't scared. you weren't running. you weren't stalling. your skin was humming, your blood felt hot. he was so perfect against you, his hand over yours somehow the most intimate touch you could remember.

he ducked his head to yours, just a breath away, so you could see the gold in his eyes. "let me do you one better," he rasped, waiting for your single nod before finally crushing his mouth to yours in a kiss that felt like early sunrises, slow and meaningful and only the beginning.

you pushed up onto your tiptoes, looped both of your arms around his neck, tugging him closer, closer, as he kept one hand on your hip, the other grasping the back of your neck, keeping you from collapsing into him.

kissing your ex had felt almost robotic, scientific, stiff in an endearing way at best, stiff in an awkward way in reality.

there was nothing stiff about this, nothing scientific about him. this was all feeling, all malleable, all calloused hands and chapped lips. he kissed like someone who had to work for it, like someone who didn't have to prove anything to you but wanted to, anyways.

just that was enough for you to sigh against him, the fact that there were other people around the only thing stifling your soft moan.

he smiled into your mouth, like a low-spoken secret between the two of you. "taste like butterscotch," he mumbled against your lips, pulling away only just enough to make sure his words didn't disappear unheard down your throat, almost drowsily. "you like those candies i give you, sugar?"

your chest rose and fell against his. the low music in the background roared in your ears, the neon light making him look like some stained glass thing worth kneeling for. "like 'em because you leave 'em for me," you said, your fingertips tracing the top of his spine.

his eyes shimmered. "can i tell you something?"

you nodded.

he hummed, gave a guilty sort of smile. "gave 'em to you because i didn't like the taste of 'em," he started, smirk growing wider. "and i wanted to convince myself to hold off on kissin' you. not to rush you, you know."

you understood, and your swollen lips quirked at the story, but your eyes flashed with something like hurt. "you don't like the way i taste, trevor?" even if it was his own doing, you suddenly wanted to brush your teeth.

"that's the thing." he ran a steady thumb along your hairline. "think my plan backfired, 'cause butterscotch's my new favorite flavor." his thumb reached your chin, tilting it up to his mouth again. "can't get enough of it," he murmured, a man possessed, barely audible as he kissed you again, this time with a softness that cut like a dagger.

you swore your head was still spinning the next day. what was supposed to be just another shift at the diner quickly turned into a flurry of questions, of neighbors looking for a side of gossip with their french toast, of line cooks swearing there was something different about you.

it was hard to answer anyone, to do anything, honestly, when it felt like you were floating, like your head was far, far away, up in the clouds.

harry gave you a fist bump when he saw you. old man peters told you in a stern tone that public bars were no place for fornication, to which an ecstatic bridget patted his shoulder and reminded him that it was only a (sort of) innocent kiss.

she pulled all the details out of you, lit up as you flushed and stumbled over your memories.

the police chief made some joke about that boy being a bad influence when you accidentally brought him whole milk instead of soy milk for his coffee.

ginger and the girls were like some insatiable beast that only let you be when you reminded them that if they kept you much longer, the diner would go hungry.

of course, your heart instinctively fluttered when that tell-tale gust of loud laughter burst through the door, along with the drag of heavy work boots, the shuffling of canvas outerwear, the shoving of gloves into back pockets.

you made your way to the table with their regular pot of coffee, met trevor's dancing gaze almost sheepishly.

"morning, guys," you said, smiling at all of them.

they chimed their chorus of good mornings, pouring their coffee into mugs themselves, as they always insisted on.

"so, what's new?" cole asked, his head resting on his fists. "probably nothing, right?"

alex and matt hid their laughs.

you rolled your eyes, smiled nonetheless. trevor had a hat on, today, making his hair curl out from the bottom of the brim. you tucked a curling lock behind his ear, ran your nails soothingly along the hair at the nape of his neck.

anyone watching would have seen the way his gaze melted like milk chocolate, how his shoulders softened, his posture relaxing completely into your small touch.

he looked up at you, eyes so soaked in affection it spilled down his face like mascara-stained tears. "i missed you," he said.

his friends groaned, as if they'd heard this a million times. suddenly, with a blush, you had a guess as to what his morning had been like. perhaps he had been just as distracted as you.

"i missed you, too," you said, because it was the truth.

"he almost dropped a crate on my foot this morning," matt said, bitterly.

you put a hand over your heart. "how tragic." you looked up, making eye contact with your friend across the diner. "hey, bridge! matt almost hurt his foot this morning. has science found a cure for that, yet?"

she huffed a laugh as she approached, shook her head at matt when she stood in front of the table. she held the back of her hand to his forehead, as if checking for a fever. "are you sure you're okay, sweet boy? this sounds serious," she joked.

matt had paled. trevor pulled you into his lap and you hid your laugh in his collarbone.

"'m fine," matt bit out, to which bridget smiled.

"thank god, that was close," she said. her gaze wandered, landed on something out the window. she squinted. "did somebody dig up some of the flowers outside?" she asked.

"dig?" alex mused, "maybe rip is a better word, eh, trev?"

"right. almost forgot." trevor held you in his lap with one hand, reached the other to the side. suddenly several flowers were being held in front of you, thin, spidery roots still intact. "sugar, will you go to the valentine's day skate with me?"

you smiled, wide and toothy, touched one hand to his face as the other grasped the humble, earthy bouquet. "of course i will, handsome," you said, "what's the valentine's day skate?"

"pta event, tomorrow," bridget said, looking on with interest. "whole town shows up."

"this town shows up for everything," you replied.

she smiled fondly. "heart-shaped balloons and fruit punch and ice skates. what's not to love?"

you turned your neck to look back up at trevor. "'m honored to have been on the receiving end of one of your famous invitations," you teased, "even if it's not for a dance." his delight rumbled into your shoulders, the back of your thighs, firm and warm.

cole yawned, stretched. "duty calls, fellas," he said, making to get up.

you reluctantly pushed up from trevor's lap, quickly pouring his untouched mug into a to-go cup. the team filed out with their typical string of thank yous and goodbyes, matt's extra glance at bridget met with a returning smile.

then it was you and trevor, as the morning break always ended, like clockwork, like a bedtime story that was comforting in its predictability. he tucked a bill in your apron, several candies, the weight of them alone making you smile.

"did i tell you how pretty you look today?" he told you.

"no," you mused, your hands clasped behind your back, shifting on your feet.

he hummed. "so pretty, sugar, never been so nervous to ask someone out," he admitted, that smug smile lazy across his face.

you tilted your head. "don't be nervous," you told him. "you're the easiest yes i've ever had."

at your words he ducked his wide shoulders down to you, flipped his hat backwards on his head so as not to impede you in any way, kissed you with a rough palm on your soft face, your hands still behind your back as you met him up on your toes.

a different kiss, one so lovely, still, soft and beautiful, drenched in daylight.

would your head ever stop spinning, when it came to him? would you ever come down from the clouds, again? even if you did, would there not be cumulus tufts in your hair, wisps of cirrus in your lashes?

he was proving it difficult, especially that next day, the fourteenth of february.

you had the morning to yourself, existing slowly and methodically, reading and running errands, finally starting to get ready for your date in the late afternoon.

before you knew it, there was a knock at your door, just as you had swung your jacket on. you swung it open to find him leaning against the doorframe, the picture of ease, shoulders drooping the way they always did after a working morning.

"ready to go?" you asked, making to close the door behind you before pressing up on your toes to kiss him on the cheek. he caught your face in a hand before you could, though, steering your lips towards his mouth instead. you laughed against his lips. "greedy," you taunted, pulling away, letting yourself lean into his warm side.

"got no idea, sugar," he admitted, voice twinged with a day of speaking. you walked together to the high school ice skating rink, only a few minutes away, the brisk february air biting at your nose, your ears. you caught up on the morning, what book you had finished, how annoying ginger's husband was being about the state of his rain gutters.

when you entered the rink, finally, pushing forward the old doors, you couldn't help but smile, and trevor couldn't help but watch you.

everyone was here, of course they were. balloons hung from the top of the glass, streamers decorating every archway and spare inch. a massive table of themed refreshments was just next to the bleachers.

it looked like something out a ninety's film, mixed with the unique small town charm and wintery love you had come to know so personally.

you and trevor quickly got your skates on, all lingering touches and knowing smiles, and headed for the ice.

you were shaky at first, but his hands were so tight on yours, you knew there wasn't a chance he would let you fall. he spun you around the rink easily, twirling you like a ballroom dance floor, ever the show-off, anything to make you laugh.

"hey, harry!" you called out, at one point, noticing your host-friend helping a taller, skinner kid his age onto the ice. he waved, his eyes glittery in a way you recognized. is that jason? you mouthed. harry nodded, smiled shyly. you gave him an impressed thumbs up, trevor whistled.

you asked trevor how he got into hockey, watched how his mind waltzed behind his eyes when he talked about outdoor rinks with his friends in elementary school, how even piled-on scarves and hats and puffer jackets didn't stop that flying feeling.

significance would gather in your stomach, butterflies morphing into something much more serious, the kind of flame you'd find in a living room fireplace, in the hearts of teenage lovers.

you skated by cole, scooping up the snow he had made with quick starts and stops, and alex, whose neck was becoming the new home of said snow.

alex grunted, immediately breaking into stride to catch a fleeing cole, whose bright and clear laugh echoed under the roof like church bells.

the fire and police departments had started a relay race, ginger and her girls had formed a circle close to the hot chocolate.

old man peters held his sleeping granddaughter in his lap, bouncing his knee gently, both of their smiles blissful.

trevor's hand found your far hip, pulling you into his warm side. you sighed, looked up at him as you let your fingers trace along his jaw.

"touchy today, sugar, hm?" he said into your hair, a rumble to his tone that told you he liked it.

you hummed, nodded. "you just look so..." you trailed off, in thought, thinking about what, exactly, you meant to say. he looked what? practically edible? like an ocean you wanted to drown in?

how could you tell him you'd been avoiding looking at his hands, for fear you'd blurt something out about wanting them around your neck?

you just swallowed, cleared your throat. his smirk was a flash of teeth.

"you feelin' okay?" he cooed. "should i take you home?"

you found yourself nodding, even though you hadn't been at the rink for long.

"yeah?" he mocked, taunting, his hand on your hip suddenly firm, burning.

bridget's laugh cut through the sizzling air like a stream of cold hose water. you both turned to look at where she now sat, having obviously fallen onto the ice. she peered up at matt through her blonde bangs. "some teacher you are," she laughed, "i knew trev was the right choice for my girl's lessons."

matt shook his head, a barely-there smile on his thin lips. he offered her a hand, steadily helped her to her feet, an almost undetectable shake in his breathing as bridget grabbed onto his forearm for extra stability. "alright, smart ass," he mused, "no help for you, then."

he made to drop her hands, to leave her on her own, but she latched onto him tighter. "yeah right," she said, "you're not going anywhere, sweet boy."

cole's laugh sparkled at matt's flush.

you and trevor were already on the way out, bidding your short goodbyes, half-assed excuses about not feeling well given and taken with knowing eye-rolls.

he walked you back to the inn, up the stairs, his hands on you ever-so-distracting, his voice a careless rasp, your heart beating heavy in your chest.

you finally made it to your closed door, your back against it as he looked down at you with that heated gaze, his frame boxing you in.

"well, get some rest, sugar," he said, slowly, smiling. "since you're not feeling well." he twirled a strand of your hair around a finger.

you sputtered. "what? trevor-"

his eyes widened in mock-surprise. "oh, is there something you want?" he asked.

you clutched at his shirt with your fist, pulled. "please."

"please, what, sugar?" he asked, so smug you wanted to punch him. "gotta tell me what you want, hm?"

"you," you whined, but that wasn't enough.

"oh, is that it?" he drawled, ducking his head down to you, so close, but not close enough, not even a little.

you worked your jaw, so frustrated. "just," you tried, "just please, touch me, trevor, i just wanna feel you."

he smiled, held the side of your face in his palm. "am touchin' you, sugar," he said, "tellin' me this isn't enough?"

you ran your tongue along the inside of your cheek, groaned at his feigned confusion. "shut up," you breathed, his mouth an inch from yours.

"make me," he bit back, and then you were kissing him. you swore your lips would be charred, later, as if in proof. you reached a hand behind you, twisted open your door, while the other rooted in his hair, tugged him inside your room as he moaned against your lips.

one of his hands grasped the back of your neck, the other a bruising grip in your side, walking you backwards until the backs of your knees felt the blunt edge of the bed.

you barely registered as he reached under you, flipped you onto his lap, your legs straddling his hips as he sat down on the comforter, far too caught up in this kiss, somehow still so different from ones you has shared before. so charged you felt the air might combust at any second, that, despite his relentless repairs, there was no way this inn could withstand the way he was kissing you, now. surely, the roof would cave in under the weight of your want, water would sear straight through the pressurized pipes.

he smiled against your mouth when you started to rock your hips back and forth across his lap, just so desperate for something, anything.

your exhales came out short, little pants as you reveled in the little friction you were getting against his firm thigh, covered in his heavy work pants, nothing close to what you really wanted, but something, at least.

mercifully, he moved your clothes aside, rocked you more forcefully, making the sensation practically blissful. you dropped your heavy head to his neck, moaned into it.

"oh, sugar," he cooed, and you squeezed your eyes shut. "so greedy for it, hm?"

you nodded into his neck, the tough texture combined with the heavy weight of his thigh catching you in just the right spot, urging a whimper from your throat.

"makin' a mess of me, yeah? could cum just from my thigh?" he said, almost like he felt sorry for you, but you could hear the smile in his voice. you bit down gently on the space between his neck and shoulder, your small retaliation, smiled at his groan.

you slowed your rhythm, picked your head up, let your chest rise and fall as you looked at him in the face, searched his eyes.

his face was slightly flushed, his eyes only just a bit glassy, but he looked at you like you were a wonder, like some divine power had made her way into his lap.

you pressed a feather-light kiss to the corner of his mouth, loved the way you could feel his smile crinkle and widen under your lips.

"please, trevor," you whispered, your touch so soft around his neck. "please just give me what i want."

you shifted on his lap until you felt him, hard and hot and heavy underneath you. his voice came out with a strain. "anything, sugar," he told you, "just tell me."

you lifted your hips up, could feel how wet you were, could tell you had probably left a trace of yourself on his pants. "wanna cum on your cock, trevor," you breathed, couldn't help your sly grin when he immediately began to tug his clothes aside. "please, please let me. i know i'm so greedy-"

he was nodding like he understood as he angled your hips up higher, shifted you so that you sat right above him as he pumped himself up and down, once, twice, so obviously ready for you. "you are, sugar," he said, so eager it almost sounded like a whine, "but i'll give you anything you want, swear it." his hands found your hips. "just promise you'll only be greedy for me, hm?"

you sank down onto him with a nodded promise, bit your lip at the slow, scorching pressure, the pleasant stretch that pulled at your middle, that you felt in your toes. you blinked, trying to get used to the sensation, trying to muffle the groan in your mouth.

"fuck," he moaned, his fingers clutching at the flesh of your hips like you might float away if he let go, "all the way, sugar, 'atta girl." you huffed a short breath when he was all the way in.

words felt far away, suspended in bubbles that whirled around your head.

"speechless, eh?" he teased, and you had a sense of deja vu. "don't worry, sugar. common re-"

and you could have growled at him for alluding to the fact that other girls had felt this, that there were other people in the world who knew what this felt like, so you fitted a delicate hand over his mouth and rolled your hips up and back on him until he was the speechless one, moans falling from his mouth, his brow pinched in pleasure.

"don't worry," you breathed, your mouth an inch from his ear. "common reaction."

you began to move your hips up and down faster as the stretch gave way to something dizzyingly good, as he began to thrust back up into you. so hard and fast, but he held you like something precious. his rhythm built until your mouth fell open, until sweat shone on the high points of his face, until time melted away, until you were reminded of what you'd mistaken him for when you'd first seen him, all that time ago - some ancient sculpture. a work of art.

he cursed as your clit caught on his pubic bone, the friction so overwhelming, and you clenched down on him. "give it to me, sugar," he said, but the strain in his voice made it sound like a plea. "fuck, let me hear you, yeah?" his tone grew gentle. "been wantin' to hear you for so long."

you tightened around him further at his small admission, let your nails rake down his neck, probably a little too hard. he grunted, thrusted harder, shifted you closer to him.

you moaned his name at the new angle, one you felt in the tips of your ears, your hairline, your tongue.

you were so close, so impossibly almost there. "please make me cum," you whined, "please, need you so bad." your exhale was practically pained as you ran your fingers over the red marks on his neck your nails had left. "don't i deserve it, baby?"

he grunted, and it was different. you felt his stomach and thighs clench, his hips sputter as his head spun with the fact that you'd gone right to begging him, skipped the asking part. he pressed his hand to your lower stomach, let his thumb catch against your clit, sending you over the edge in moments. "'course you deserve it, sugar," he rasped, gravelly, in your ear as you rode out your high, his thrusts growing wild. "been so good."

you clenched down on him, forcing his own orgasm, fast and all-consuming, the smell of him everywhere, mixed with your perfume. your exhales were warm and heavy, transparent clouds that settled on the floor of your room, making it every bit the dreamland it had become in your mind.

he held you so close to him as he pulled you to his chest, leaned you both back on your bed. you stared up at the ceiling.

about time, one of the tiles whispered, holding a crisp fiver.

couldn't have waited another week? the losing tile muttered bitterly.

you smiled as his rough hand found your face, tilted it towards him. he was smiling. your stomach fluttered as you felt your own mouth pull wider.

"what?" he asked, his voice rough, drowsy with use.

you shook your head. "nothing," you said, "just you." your eyes crinkled under the weight of your happiness. "i'm callin' dibs on you."

his eyes lit up as he pulled you in for another kiss, slow and overflowing with meaning. he hummed. "butterscotch," he whispered against your mouth. "my favorite."

fin.

588 notes · View notes

realisticfanfictions · 4 months

Text

Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress.

Sanji x Waitress!Reader

Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.

Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.

A/N: I love the Waitress!Reader so much for OPLA, so I've decided to do another one! I had to split this up into multiple parts, cause this ended up being a bit long. (Link to part two.)

Word Count is 4,829. Hope you enjoy!

"Where the fuck are my entrees?!" Your voice echoed in the enclosed space, cutting through the melodic and rhythmic sounds of frying, chopping and other things that went on in a kitchen. You brushed past another waitress who wisely got out of your way, your heels clicking against the tiles as you marched up to the pass and slammed your copy of the meal ticket down. "Chef!" You called out, pushing back a strand of your hair as you scanned the chefs who were cooking at a ferocious pace. You locked eyes with an unfortunate new chef, but despite him immediately looking at his feet and trying to walk by, you reached through the window and pulled him by the collar. "Who the hell is on entrees?" He stumbled over his words and you groaned in frustration at his pathetic attempt at the English language.

"That's me." You pushed him back and looked past the cowering chef at the man who had just spoken up, your boyfriend and the love of your life, Sanji. His normally pressed and tidy chef attire was in disarray with his shirt untucked and his sleeves stained with various sauces. He sounded hoarse and was covered in a thin layer of sweat as he cooked some type of meat, flipping it over in the pan to cook it evenly. Intense concentration was etched into his face and the way he scrunched his nose was adorable, but right now you couldn't think of anything else but punching it.

You opened your mouth to speak, but a nearby busboy ran in front of you and you snarled at him. "Watch it, asshole!" You refocused your attention back on the blonde in front of you. "I have thirty-eight tables out there with at least four head a table, and only two waitresses working the floor-!"

He shook his head and his pan aggressively hit the stove top each time he moved it. "You know, it sounds so hard to look pretty and run around in heels all night, but I actually have a real job-"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really. And I'd appreciate it if I didn't have you bitching in my ear all night!" He threw some butter in the pan and began to bast the meat.

"Then maybe, if you were actually good at your 'real job'," You said with quotation marks. "Then you'd tell me why the shit it takes thirty-five goddamn minutes for a premade french onion soup!"

He whipped around with a laddle in his hand and he marched over to the pass. You both bent down to see each other through the window. "Hey, if I had any fucking help around here I would have gotten that to you twenty minutes ago, but I'm stuck here-"

"And here we go!" You exclaimed as you threw up your hands dramatically and walked through the swinging doors. You avoided Pattie walking out with a tray of fresh bread and popped on an apron attached to a nearby hook.

"-with my thumb up my arse because apparently no one knows how to plate a damn steak in this kitchen!" He moved around you as you took his place, grabbing the offending meat and placing it atop of the mashed potatoes.

Annoyed, you grabbed the garnish. "Well, where the hell's the plating station?"

Sanji came back and unceremoniously dropped a large stock pot next to you. He bent down to look you in the eye and threw his hands up in the air. "He quit."

Your eyes widened and followed him as he walked to the other side of you and started plating beside you. "He what?"

"He fucking quit! Just like every other bitch who couldn't handle Tuesdays at the Baratie." His brows furrowed and he let out a small shout of frustration. "Whoever the fuck did the halibut, refry it!" He yelled as he set it off to the side. "Just 'cause we're busy doesn't mean you can push out a shit and pass it off as fine dining!"

You plated another order and put it under the heat lamp at the pass, then rang the bell, but no one came. "And we're short-staffed on waitresses too!" You exclaimed and spotted the busboy from before, "Oi! You! Get off your ass and start serving!" You threw your ticket-book and pen at him, which he barely caught from where he was sitting.

"B-But I'm washing dishes-!"

You dramatically gestured around. "We aren't even sending anything out, so unless you've been storing them up your rectum, what fucking dishes are you washing?!" You grabbed the french onion soup in the stock pot that Sanji had given you and quickly poured it into three bowls laced with garnish on top. "Take these to 12, and the steak to 24. Tell 12 that they'll get a free dessert in about twenty minutes. Well? Get a move on! You aren't getting paid to sit there and look pretty, 'cause you sure as hell ain't fucking pretty!" He scrambled to pick them up and he quickly ran out of the kitchen.

"That turned me on more than I'd like to admit." Sanji appeared beside you with another plate and rang the service bell. "If we weren't busy I'd kiss you, darling." He exclaimed as he grabbed a handful of garnish and placed it atop of the plate.

"Oi, fuckface." When he looked over, you quickly pressed a kiss to his lips and grabbed the metal tray of halibut. "Now, let's get these pretentious pricks fed!"

You both worked side by side, barking orders at each other and bickering over every little thing you could - even Zeff yelled at you both to shut up. But it worked. Within minutes, you both had worked through the back orders and finally got to a point where you weren't struggling to complete orders from guests who'd been waiting for hours. When the last table left, you and Sanji just about collapsed. Leaning against the cool wall tile with you by his side, he sighed. "That was definitely one of our busiest days," He said with pure relief that it was finally over.

You couldn't remain standing and slid down the wall, your high heels clicking as you sat down. "Yeah, who knew so many people would wanna celebrate Father's Day?" You replied sarcastically, but a playful smile told your boyfriend that you weren't being mean. He softly chuckled and followed suit, sliding down the wall until he reached the floor with a groan.

He pulled out his cigarettes. "I've earned one of these." He says as he puts it between his lips and waits for you to light it. You roll your eyes and oblige, taking out your lighter and lighting the end of it for him. He took a slow drag, closed his eyes, savoured it, and then exhaled out the smoke.

"You almost make lung cancer look sexy." You remarked with a grin, and he returned it with his own charming, beautiful smile.

His eyes slowly flicked up and down. "And you always make yelling and shouting look so sexy." He licked his lips and leaned in, giving you a kiss that lingered. Your eyes fluttered shut and you enjoyed the small respite from the craziness you had both just experienced. Even when the kiss eventually ended, neither one of you moved away. "Are you working tonight?" He asked under his breath.

You sighed and pecked his lips. "In two hours."

"Till?"

"Four."

"Shit."

"I know." You pressed your lips against his once more and moved some hair out of his face. "But, I'm not working tomorrow so we can sleep in."

He sighed. "I start at nine tomorrow."

"Till?"

"Six."

"Shit."

"I know." You both quietly laughed and pressed your noses together, then rubbed them together while stealing kisses and giggling like you used to when you were kids.

You'd been at the Baratie ever since you were fifteen, and you'd been dating Sanji since you were sixteen. It wasn't really something you both had officially decided on, nor did either one of you do this big, elaborate confession that made both of you ugly-cry. It happened slowly over time. Many customers and fellow staff would constantly tease you both with things like, "Where's your girlfriend, Sanji?" and, "Aw! You both are so cute together!" At first you both denied it, but eventually you just... stopped correcting people. You were each other's first kiss, first love... first love, and despite how it looks from the outside, you couldn't be happier.

"Oi, Sanji." You called out as you leaned closer to the mirror to focus on your eyeshadow. "Be careful, there's been a lot of pirate activity lately. They might stop by, so Zeff has officially-unofficially instated a no-tolerance policy for- Sanji!" You laughed when your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you and you struggled to do your makeup while Sanji hung off of you and pressed kisses along your cheek. "You toad! You're going to ruin my smokey eye."

He playfully moaned. "But you're so sexy," He whined and pulled back enough to give you puppy eyes. "And you shouldn't work tonight if there's pirates anyway."

"I still have to work." You replied, giving up on doing your makeup and stealing a quick kiss from him. "I'm the head of front-of-house, I can't just ring up Zeff and say, 'hey, your son wants to sleep with me so I can't come in today!'"

"No, you can't." At the sound of his voice, you looked up to see that your boss had entered you and Sanji's shared room. He would have seen the neatly pressed and ironed button-downs wrapped around hangers, and two mismatching pairs of high heels strewn about the floor. His eyes met yours. "We have a full house of rich, but important pricks tonight, and I need all hands on deck. If someone calls in sick, drag them out of bed if you have to."

Your boyfriend pouted playfully. "But she never gets any time off, can't we just-"

"(Y/N) is our head of house, she's too important to lose tonight." Zeff straightened up and crossed his arms over. "Little Eggplant, you can't distract (Y/N) from doing her job. Unlike you, she has to work to stay here." The old man looked over at you and you nodded, you knew that you were a staff member first and foremost - being the girlfriend of his adopted son was second to that.

Sanji's smile tightened, and he stood up. "I know." His blue eyes flashed with something that you meant he wanted to say something but didn't. His smile returned when he looked at you. "I'll see you in the morning."

As he brushed past Zeff and walked out of the room, you furrowed your eyebrows at your boss and father figure. "Now that's one way to get him pissed off at you." The words came out a little more aggressive than you meant to, but you didn't bother correcting yourself.

He sighed and turned to leave. "Leave it alone, (Y/N)."

"And one way to get me pissed off at you too." You dropped your eyeshadow onto the table and followed after him. His wide frame took up quite a bit of space in the hallway, but you squeezed past him to block his path.

Zeff groaned when he saw you and squeezed the bridge of his nose, then released it to gesture while he spoke. "(Y/N), I apologise if you felt offended. You're a part of our family, and--"

"I don't care about that." You scoffed in disbelief and gawked at his lack of social awareness. "You must be really thick in the skull if you think I'm upset about that."

His face scrunched up. "Then what are you upset about? Hm? What are you upset about now?" He gestured behind you. "I have dinner service to prep for," He started to list off on his fingers. "I have a team of flaky waitresses-your team of flaky waitresses to deal with, and I need to make sure that we have enough lamb being delivered for our special tonight. So what could it possibly be that is so important you're holding me up for?"

You counted to five in your head before opening your mouth to speak. "I love him. And I don't give a rat's ass that you sign my paycheck, or give me a roof over my head. You don't make Sanji, my boyfriend and your son, feel shitty just because you think it'll toughen him up. And you certainly don't use me to do that." You keep your gaze locked onto his. "You ever do that again? I walk." You stepped backward and straightened up. "I'll get the team ready for service."

You never regretted what you said. Was your tone harsher than it should've been? Yes, but you needed to get your point across to him. There wasn't any time to think about it though, because it was Friday night and thirty minutes before opening - you didn't have the time to regret what you said.

"Ladies!" You called out, then smiled. "And Sapi." Said fishman smiled at your acknowledgement as your team of staff gathered around to form a semi-circle in front of you. You held up your checklist. "We have fifteen V.I.P tables tonight. I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour. That means no frowning, no blowing your nose on the customer's napkins, and no- oh my God, Macy. If you don't shut the fuck up." The red-lipped, pigtail-wearing waitress jolted back from where she was gossiping with another waitress. You raise your brows at her as if to ask if she was done and rolled your eyes. "And no unprofessionalism." You finished with a glare.

Spai cleared his throat. "How many free tables do we have tonight?"

You looked back at the clipboard and flipped over the page, counting quietly to yourself. "There's two at seven and one at eight. The two at seven are one and eight, and the one at eight is seven. One can be for eight, but don't offer seven to under six because seven and six are over eight. Got it?"

The room was quiet for a moment, and Sapi slowly blinked. "May I have a copy of that, please?"

"I'll bring one to your station," You looked around. "Any questions?" Silence. "Good. Now, put on your fakest smile and happy ga-ga voice - we've got a line of ships waiting to be fed!"

"Let's do this, team!" Macy's voice screeched out and she was met with silence.

You exhaled gruffly and squeezed the bridge of your nose. "Macy, I swear to- let's do this, team!" This time, it was met with a round of cheer as they dispersed to familiarise themselves with their tables for the night.

A pleased sigh escaped you, content with your small but mighty team that you had managed to drag out of bed to work the floor. A glance to the suspiciously blank specials menu made you curse under your breath. You were going to have to talk to Zeff to get tonight's specials. With a defeated sigh, you clipped your pen to your shirt and sucked in a deep breath, before making your way to the kitchen where it sounded like food preparations were already underway.

"...and get those lamb in the cold room!" Zeff's voice was apparent the second you walked through those doors. The kitchen was a mess of people marching backwards and forwards like ants while Zeff, their queen, barked orders as they passed by. You thought about just turning around and pretending that the fight had never happened in the first place, but the old man spotted you and waved you over with a finger. "What can I get you, Sprout?" You breathed out a sigh of relief, hearing his nickname for you was like a wave of fresh air.

You straightened up and grabbed your pen. "Hey geezer, what's the specials tonight?"

He waited for you to finish writing "Specials" across the top of your sheet of paper. "We have Lobster Thermidor paired with the 1500s Chardonnay, or a White Burgundy if they snub the Chardonnay. Then we have classic Red-Wine Braised Lamb Shanks that you can pair with any Grenache you find." He slid a piece of paper to you. "These are the prices. I only want you handling checks tonight."

Out of sheer habit, you slipped the piece of paper into your bra. "Why's that?"

"Because someone messed up the till last night, and I want someone I can trust running it."

That made your heart clench. You sighed. "Look, Zeff," You started and lowered your clipboard. "I'm sorry for stepping out of line earlier. I was angry. Sanji was trying to get some 'us' time because we haven't even been awake at the same time for the last couple months. And when we have it's been with me running the floor and him- you know what I mean. Look, I'd never walk out on you, Zeff."

His face, as always, was blank, but you can tell he was processing what you had just said. He was quiet, but then he nodded. "Get those specials on the board. We open in ten." You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded, then turned around. "Don't fuss, little brussel sprout."

A smile wormed its way onto your face and you looked over your shoulder at him. "Fussin' ain't worth fussing over. Isn't that what you say?" You barely dodged an incoming head of lettuce.

"Good evening, welcome to the Baratie. My name is (Y/N), can I get you started with some drinks tonight?" You were a natural at this. It didn't matter if you were having an "anti-person day", as Sanji called it, there was no denying that you had talent.

The man with soft, pink hair hummed and looked over the menu. His brass knuckles glistening under the dim lighting of the restaurant. "What are your specials for the night?"

A polite smile went a long way. "The chef has prepared for you a selection of the most wonderful meals made only from the finest and freshest ingredients in the Ease Blue. We have Lobster Thermidor paired with a Chardonnay that I find adds a bit of a fruity, uplifting compliment to the meal. And we have our high-in-demand Lamb Shanks braised in a nice red wine, and paired with only the best Grenache you can find for miles." You didn't bother telling him that it was the same Grenache you had found in the back of the freezer from four months ago.

"That sounds lovely, and what is the cost?"

You quietly hissed and looked over at the beautiful blonde who was sitting across from him, then leaned in to whisper. "I find it's best not to discuss such things on a date. You wouldn't want her to think she isn't worth it, right?"

Well, that certainly worked. He slowly looked between you and his date, who smiled sweetly and encircled the rim of her glass with her perfectly manicured french tips. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "You're right. We'll take one of each, and I'll have to rely on you for what pairs best."

You took the menu he offered with a smile and a nod. "Very well sir, I hope you two enjoy yourselves. Our bar is open all night." And with a wink, you danced away to the kitchen to place 'his' order. It was easy with men like that. All you had to do was dangle their woman's respect in front of them and they'd eat shit just to keep her smiling. But despite the monotony of it at times, you met a lot of interesting people from different backgrounds. You gave a small wave at the man at table two, a regular who had just come back from his royal ballet tour appearance and was with his rich, aristocrat girlfriend, who he said wasn't feeling well.

An set of voices, loud and uncouth, came from above and you stopped to cast a glance upwards. They were... pirates? Well, Zeff did say that they'd been more active around this area as of late, so it wasn't that much of a surprise - especially since there was already a couple tables of them. Sapi looked a little overwhelmed, so you sighed and grabbed a nearby waitress. "Could you take an order to the kitchen for me? It's table three with the two specials, two too. The man at two in the tutu wants it blue, but not at two with Ms. Sue in the red shoes. She has a touch of the flu, so any red meat or roux will make her spew. Got it?"

She blinked. "I think so?"

You patted her on the shoulder and briskly floated up the stairs with as much grace as a head waitress could muster. Their conversation slowly grew louder and you were able to hear some of their conversation. "My apologies, but I don't accept money for-"

"Is there something I can help you with?" At your words, the group looked over and Sapi, who had been trying to refuse some berri the orange-haired woman was offering him, visibly relaxed.

"Nothing is the matter, this group was just leaving." He answered and looked at them to see if they got the hint. The woman sighed in defeat and pocketed her cash. You looked over at the two young men leant against the railing staring into the restaurant below, they were very excited and looked as if they hadn't eaten a proper meal for a few days.

With your mind set, you glanced over at the time, then straightened up and smiled. "You know what? It's seven, so I believe we might have a booth available if that's suitable for your needs?"

She smiled and breathed out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, here-"

You held up a hand before she could reach into her pocket. "Save that for your meal." With a quick nod to Sapi, you stepped aside and gestured toward the staircase. "Follow me." The man with green hair and three swords rubbed you the wrong way almost the second you laid eyes on him, and you could tell he felt the same way. It was almost a sense of mutual familiarity. But you broke off eye contact to lead the rest of this strange, rambunctious crew further into the Baratie. "The Baratie was established by our current owner Zeff, and we recently celebrated our tenth anniversary."

The boy in the straw hat gawked at everything he saw and heard you say, and smiled brightly. "This place looks like it serves good food!"

That brought a smile to your face. "It does," You said as you guided them to their booth amidst other pirates and similar rough-looking guests. "And I don't just say that because my boyfriend's the sous chef."

"Are you sure about that?" The guy in a pirate costume asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and laughing along with his young friend.

You smiled along and shook your head. "I'll let you guys get settled in and will return in about five minutes with a menu. Please enjoy the music." With a few friendly waves and a "see you in a bit!" from the straw hat boy, you turned and walked toward the back of the room to collect a few menus.

Suddenly, the door slammed open and your boyfriend appeared looking more than a bit annoyed. You didn't even think he was on the line tonight, but your attention was drawn to two men who had began to cause a bit of a ruckus. You weren't close enough to hear what was being said, but you tucked the menus under your armpit and darted toward the pair that were now being consoled by Sanji. "...we don't waste food, and there's no fighting at the Baratie." You slowed your walk toward them and continued at a crawl. The man you had served not that long ago was dealing with a rowdy pirate. You heard something that sounded like a threat and Sanji spoke up again, his voice cutting through the argument before it had the chance to escalate. "And I'd like to pour you each a glass of Ithürzburger Stein. On the house."

The pirate nodded. "Okay, I'll have that drink." His brows furrowed and his voice grew irrate. "After he apologies for his bad manners!"

"Over my dead body." That was certainly the wrong answer. With a growl, they both lunged for each other and you sped toward them, watching as Sanji, in a blur, flipped over the table and kicked each of them.

The pink haired man grunted and got back up on his feet, drawing his gun but then froze when he felt something cold dig into his back. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." You warned, shoving your own gun into his back and whispered in his ear. "Drop it." Like the coward he was, he did and you effortlessly slammed the butt of your weapon into his temple - knocking him out cold.

You motioned for a nearby waitress to deal with the unconscious men, then snapped your attention to Sanji who picked up his plate of scones and continued his walk. "No cause for alarm, folks. Please, enjoy your meals." He called out and you quickly pocketed your gun back into your thigh-holster, smoothing out your dress and turning to the waitress who had arrived at your side.

After gesturing for her to take them out the back door, you readjusted yourself and quickly walked up to Sanji's side who's forced smile made you tilt your head in confusion. He shook his head, he didn't want to talk about it just yet. You both made the few steps over to the table you had just seated and, despite his mood, he set down the plate with his usual grace. "Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?" While he spoke, you placed down some menus and tried to ignore the straw hat boy who was currently stuffing his face full of our complimentary scones.

The woman grabbed a menu from you with a smile, but the others had their eyes locked onto Sanji. "One of everything, please!" The straw hat boy called out without taking a look at the menu you had walked twenty feet in high heels to collect.

"Any drinks?" Your boyfriend offered as he shoved his hands into his pocket, unconsciously looking for his packet of smokes that you knew he couldn't light. You briefly wondered if you should offer him a smoke break to calm him down. "One of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?"

"Giving us the hard sell, huh?" She asked as she slowly lowered her menu and you found it increasingly harder not to smack the blond.

And, as usual, his entire demeanour changed. "Apologies, madam. I didn't see you there. Would you care for an aperitif to start? We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock. Or perhaps you'd like a glass of Umeshu? You know, something sweet-" He winked. "-for someone sweet."

"Something wrong with your eye?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

You cleared your throat. "No, but there is something wrong with his head if he thinks he can flirt with another girl in front of his girlfriend."

That garnered a few giggles, snickers and mock gasps from the table. Sanji chuckled and turned to you. "I hope I'm not in the doghouse tonight?" He pulled you in and gave you a quick kiss on your cheek, but you waved him off.

"We'll see." You shot him a not-so-serious warning look and focused back on the table. "Sorry about that, did I hear you were after some drinks?"

The green-haired male looked you up and down, faint recognition in his eyes as he cleared his throat. "Can I get a beer and something for my friends?"

The pirate-costumed man spoke up. "Two beers. I usually have three, but-"

"And a milk!"

You scribbled down their orders, and Sanji's hand crept around your waist. "Three beers and a milk. And, uh, for madam?"

"Water."

"Still, sparking, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"

You stopped writing and slowly looked up to your boyfriend. "...Taken, Sanji." You reminded him and he stared back at you innocently.

Even the woman leaned back in confusion. "Regular water, in a regular glass. Thanks."

"Right away." He said with a wistful expression, and with the roll of your eyes, you dragged him away before he made a further fool of himself.

AN: Sorry about ending it there, but it was getting WAY too long and I figured it'd be easier to break it up into multiple pieces rather than having one solid chunk of 12k words. Or however long this fic ends up being. I'm actually kinda digging it, so I may continue to write it for a while! Also, I have no idea how old Sanji is meant to be in this universe? According to the internet (and the massive reddit fight I accidentally spawned) it's a tossup between 19 and 26 (OP Sanji's vs the actor's actual age.)

I also hope you appreciate the word-puns. I don't know why but I really enjoy writing them and love to include them in my writing-

541 notes · View notes

captainfern · 11 months

Note

heyyy, how are youu? as I see your request are open so here I am again. I absolutely loved “About A Girl” it was perfect and exactly what I imagined so i’m back for seconds 😋

hear me out 🫵🤠✋ what if after a long mission the team gets a few weeks off, reader goes on a date, Price sees and gets jealous and since reader’s date is a bit of a jackass and gets reader uncomfortable Price intervenes and takes reader. One thing lead to the other 😉😏 and there’s a little of everything, heavy on the degrading praise and breeding kink from Price cuz he’s always wanted to put a baby in reader since he first saw her :((

(as you can tell i’m a big Price enthusiast 😈)

Something In The Way

Captain John Price x fem!reader

["Something In The Way" by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - read the request. price saves you from a bad date, then you fuck lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 4.4k • warnings - fem!reader, possessive!price, unprotected piv, breeding kink [you're welcome], praise, degradation [slut used like once], oral [f!receiving], lowkey dumbification, implied age gap but that isn't a problem for us obviously 🙏, this is basically a hybrid of my fics breed and lithium lol, strong language, an absolute arsehole of a bad date i'm sorry in advance

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When you get a few weeks away from work, sometimes you don't know what to do with yourself.

Acting like a proper civilian was kind of hard when you'd just spent the last few months eradicating a terrorist threat on the opposite side of the world. But, hey, you weren't complaining that Laswell awarded you with a break.

One of the first things you did was catch up with your friends. You all went out to dinner together, eventually turning towards the bar down the street. Here, you met this guy– he was really nice, and quite good looking as well– and you gave him your number.

A week later, brought you to today.

The guy from the bar, Lucas, had taken you out on a date. You were really excited– your friends hyping you up via FaceTime as you got ready a few hours prior. You took a taxi and met him at this really nice restaurant, where he greeted you at the door with a warm smile, and took your arm, leading you inside.

An hour and a half into the date, you wondered just how drunk you were when you gave this guy your number.

"So, you're in the military?" Lucas asked as the two of you finished up desert.

"I am, yeah." You replied. He'd asked that question twice already, but you were giving him the benefit of the doubt.

He chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "You know, I never thought that women could join the military."

You paused, spoonful of crème brûlée halfway to your mouth. You lowered it. "What?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's such a masculine job when you think about it," Lucas said, swirling his spoon in the air while he talked. "I'm guessing you work with a lot of guys?"

"Yeah? Why should that matter?" You replied, placing your spoon beside your bowl. Your appetite for desert was suddenly gone.

He shrugged. "Just wondering. I bet you're popular on base, huh? I mean, if I worked with you, I'd definitely hit."

You scoffed. "You'd hit? Real mature, Lucas."

"Hey, don't get offended, Jesus," Lucas said defensively. "Surely you see where I'm coming from? It's not like I'm saying you're a fucking barracks bunny or anything like that–"

"Oh my god," you said, getting to your feet and snatching your purse off the table. The waitress arrived with the cheque, but paused when she saw what was unfolding before her. "Thanks for dinner, Lucas, but you just ruined it."

He got to his feet as you breezed past him, offering the waitress an apologetic smile. She returned it, and was quick to thrust the cheque into Lucas' hands, telling him he must pay before he leaves. You hid a grateful smile as you hurried out of the restaurant and into the night.

Outside, you felt yourself burning with rage. Who the hell does that fucker think he is talking like that? Cheeks burning, you pulled out your phone and attempted to dial one of your friends for an emergency pick-up.

"Hey, wait!" Lucas appeared behind you, walking briskly up to you and placing a hand on your shoulder. "What'd I do?"

You shrugged his hand off your shoulder with a scowl. "I don't appreciate being spoken to like that, thank you very much." It was sarcastic and had a blunt bite. Good.

He shook his head, sneering. "Oh, so you're offended? What a surprise, a woman getting emotional over a joke."

You really wanted to slap him. Smack your hand across his stupid fucking face. But, you didn't. You bit your tongue, looking down at your phone and pulling up one of your friends contact.

"I just wanted to fuck you, anyway," Lucas suddenly said, making your eyes snap up to his. "Waste of my time, clearly."

You gaped at him. "Are you fucking serious? You're an absolute arsehole."

He took a step closer to you. "What? Isn't that what you let the guys at your base do? Spreading your legs–"

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if you want to leave with your teeth still intact." A deep voice behind you, and you turned to see your captain walking towards you, cigar between his thumb and forefinger.

Lucas scoffed, giving Price a once-over. "What're you gonna do about it, old man? This doesn't concern you."

Price's other hand was in the pocket of his jacket. He moved his arm to the side, bringing his jacket away from his body, revealing a pistol strapped to a holster on his hip. He was quick to hide it beneath his jacket again as he stepped up beside you, arm brushing yours.

Lucas paled, backing away slowly. "Jesus, okay, fine, I'm leaving."

"Hold on," Price grumbled, beckoning Lucas forward with a flick of his cigar. An ember dislodged, sparkling through the air as Lucas took a hesitant step forward. "Delete her number."

Lucas pulled out his phone and quickly deleted your number. He showed it to Price, who simply exhaled a thick cloud of smoke into his face. Lucas coughed, eyes no doubt stinging, as Price leaned forward, speaking right next to his ear. You stood patiently behind him, not sure what he was even saying.

"If you ever talk to her like that again, or if you ever try to even contact her again, I'll fucking kill you. D'you understand?" Price uttered.

Lucas nodded quickly. Then, he yelped, cursing in pain, springing backwards and hurrying away without even looking at you. You saw him clutching his right hand, a circular burn mark branded on top. You cast a glimpse at Price, cigar still held tightly between his fingers. You smiled.

Price watched Lucas disappear before he turned to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You alright, rookie?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay."

Price scanned your face. "You sure? He was a right cunt, wasn't he?"

You chuckled. "Yeah, he was."

Price took a drag from his cigar. "What's a pretty girl like you going on a date with a fuckwit like him for?"

You shrugged. "I think I was way to drunk when I gave him my number."

Price smiled at you, the air between you hazy with smoke. He looked at your hands, where you were fidgeting with your phone.

"You need a ride home, rookie?" He asked.

You shook your head. "Oh, no, I'm okay. I was just about to call my friend to pick me up. They should be able to come and get me."

Price just shook his head softly, taking another drag from his cigar, now near the end of its life. He dropped the crumbling remnants into the gutter, shifting his foot so he could crush it further into the pavement with the heel of his shoe.

"I'll take you home."

You shook your head. "No, honestly–"

"Come on, rookie," Price was already walking away from you. "Captain's orders."

•º•

In his car, you don't know what came over you. One moment, you were telling him about how the date went and the next, you were sobbing into your hands in his passenger seat.

You apologised profusely once you had calmed down, and he offered words of support from the drivers seat.

"I'm sorry, I just feel so fucking stupid that I let him talk to me like that." You said, tears in your eyes drying.

"You're not stupid, love. It's normal to feel like this."

You sniffed, hugging your arms around yourself. Price glanced at you.

"Why don't you come to mine for a bit? Don't want you being alone when you're feeling like this, rookie. You can have a drink if you want."

Slowly, you nodded. "That would be nice. Thanks, cap."

"John's fine, love."

You made a face. "No way. It feels weird calling you anything other than captain or Price."

Price laughed. "But John's my name!"

"I know," you laughed too. "But, still, it just feels strange. Like when I called Ghost Simon that one time, and Soap went absolutely apeshit at me."

"Alright, fair enough," Price smiled. "You can call me Price, then."

"Thank you." You remarked, and Price shot you a smile. He was glad you were smiling now.

•º•

"Damn, your house is so nice," you said as he let you through the front door, locking it behind you. "What the hell are you getting paid to afford something like this?"

"Not that much more than you, love." Price said, taking off his jacket and hanging it on a hook near the door.

"Bullshit." You laughed, kicking off your heels and following him into the kitchen.

He rounded the kitchen island, opening a top cabinet and extracting two glasses. Then, he gestured to the array of alcohol bottles lines up along a nearby shelf. You selected one that you were familiar with, and he poured you a glass. You thanked him as he slid it across the island to you as you sat down on a barstool. He poured himself a bit of scotch.

"Feeling better?" Price asked, taking a sip of his drink.

You nodded. "Yeah, thanks, Price."

"No worries, love. Couldn't let that piece of shit talk to my rookie like that, eh?" He took a long sip.

My rookie.

Your stomach fluttered with butterflies for a moment as you took a sip of your drink, trying to calm them. He watched you with kind eyes.

"What's going through that mind of yours?" He asked, pushing his glass aside and holding the edge of the kitchen island, leaning against it.

"S'nothing." You grumbled around the rim of your glass.

"Come on, rookie."

You sighed. Embarrassed, almost. Cheeks heating up, you averted your eyes. "Just, I dunno, thankful."

"Don't worry about it," he smiled. "Now... are you sure that's all that's on your mind?"

You should have nodded. Should have told him that, yeah, I'm fine, thank you. But, you gently moved your glass aside, managing to look at him. He cocked his head, waiting for you to speak.

"I just..." You were past the point of embarrassment now. "I'm just really thankful. You didn't have to bring me here. I really appreciate it."

Price watched you closely. He hadn't touched his drink for a while. He wasn't even smiling anymore. He knew.

For fuck sake, you thought, nervousness building in your stomach. Of course he fucking knew. And, to top it all off, the butterflies were back. Great.

"I want to, um, thank you... properly."

"Thank me?" Price uttered. "Rookie..."

You cringed as he got up and began to approach you. This is it, you thought, biting your lip. He was going to fucking berate you for being so inappropriate. I mean, come on– he's your fucking boss for crying out loud! What the hell were you doing?!

"Shit, Price, I am so sorry. This is so inappropriate," you rambled. "I should never have put you in this position–"

He stood behind you now. You were still sat on the barstool, but could feel the warmth of his chest on your back. He leaned down, chest brushing your shoulder blades, lips by your ear.

"Stand up." He whispered.

Here we go, you thought as you gingerly got to your feet. He was going to kick you off the task force.

He nudged the barstool away with his foot and it skidded along the hardwood floor. You jolted at the noise, before his front was pushing into your back and suddenly– really fucking suddenly– he was bending you over the kitchen island.

"You said you want to thank me? This what you had in mind, rookie?" He asked, low in your ear. "Wanted to thank me like this?"

You were speechless. But, you nodded. The butterflies in your stomach were raving now, and you felt your body beginning to heat up as he pressed himself against you: chest and abdomen hard against the curve of your back, his pelvis flush to your arse.

"Yeah? Naughty fucking girl. Wants to get fucked by her captain?" He had a firm grip on your hips, holding you to him. "Naughty fucking girl." He repeated in a growl, shoving your dress up your hips.

It was all happening so fast that half the time you forgot to breath. Your dress was hiked up your legs, bunched around your waist as Price took a step back to admire your backside. He hooked a finger around the waistband of your underwear and let it go with a snap. You jolted, still pressed to the cool marble of the island.

"These are nice," he commented, and you could hear his smile. "Planning on getting fucked, eh?"

You shook your head. "No."

"Fucking liar." He said, grabbing your underwear again. This time, he ripped them down your legs and you felt them drop around your ankles.

You knew you were turned on, but when the cool air of his kitchen hit your bare core, you felt like squealing. Your arousal was dripping down from between your legs, running down your thighs now, much to Price's delight. He ran a finger up your thigh, collecting the fluid, and you shivered.

"Dripping..." he drawled, smearing your arousal across your inner-thighs. "Needy slut you are, rookie, aren't you? Dripping for your captain."

You whined at him as he turned you around, your lower back slamming into the edge of the table. You wondered what the hell he was doing, but that was answered when he kneeled in front of you, taking hold of your thighs and lifting you like you weighed nothing. He propped your thighs over his shoulders as you leaned against the island, arms spread along the marble. You underwear was flung off of your ankle and vanished somewhere in the room.

He blew a puff of air onto your soaked core, and you felt your body begin to burn again at the way he had your body reacting. With a satisfied smirk, he looked up at you, beard brushing the soft skin of your thighs.

"Can I?" He asked. Why was he even asking?!

You nodded desperately, angling your hips forward and shoving your cunt closer to his mouth. He chuckled and allowed you to do so– pressing his lips to your clit and drawing it into his mouth. You tossed your head back with a moan, hand reaching down to push his head further into you.

He pulled back, though, causing you to whine.

"Hands on the fucking counter." He snapped, before drawing your clit into his mouth and sucking harshly.

You choked on a sob and forced your arms away. You felt his teeth skim your nerves and you bucked your hips, just as he moved away and licked a fat stripe down your folds. He did that a couple of times, making you a whiney mess above him, before he shoved his tongue into your leaking hole.

"Mmm-mygod," you mumbled around a whimper as he moved his tongue in and out of you. You could hear him doing it– lewd squelching filling his quiet kitchen, matching the tempo of your whines and whimpers. "Price, feels so good."

Price hummed against you, vibrations making you spasm around his tongue. His hands gripped your thighs, clamping them harder around his head, resting firm on his shoulders. His nose nudged your clit repeatedly as he moved his tongue in and out of your cunt, and it had you seeing stars behind your eyelids.

It didn't take long at all before you were about to cum. Legs quivering against his strong shoulders, hips bucking desperately to meet the movements of his tongue, lower stomach tightening. You moaned loudly. "Price, please."

He didn't change his pace or movements, letting you pulse around his tongue as you came. He groaned into your cunt as your arousal flooded across his tongue, dripping out the sides of his mouth and running down his face. Your legs felt numb by the time he retreated with one last kiss to your swollen clit. You whined.

"Knew it'd taste this fucking good," Price mumbled to himself, but his words made your stomach flip. "Knew this cunt'd be so fucking good."

He carefully lowered you to the ground, your legs shaking. You sighed, bracing yourself against the island as he got to his feet, face dripping. Catching sight of beads of moisture rolling through his facial hair, you closed your eyes and whined, almost ashamed. But he didn't let you– he grabbed your face in one large hand and slammed his mouth onto yours. You could taste yourself, making you mewl, and you could feel your arousal now smearing across your face from his beard.

"Just so wet," He whispered against your mouth, tongue smoothing against yours before he pulled away. "Naughty girl you are, rookie. Letting your captain do that."

You hummed at him in response, a moan trapped in your throat. He shushed you, making quick work of pulling your dress over your head and discarding it on a nearby barstool. He then unclasped your bra, immediately drawing one of your nipples into his mouth with a nip of his teeth. You keened into him with a whisper of his name as he switched to the other, skimming his hands across them, massaging the soft flesh.

It ended all too soon, unfortunately, as a moment later he was spinning you around and bending you over the kitchen island. He was still dressed, but you heard the unbuckling of a belt and the sound of a zipper. After a moment, he placed his belt on the island in front of you, and you saw his pistol sitting in his holster. You whimpered when you looked at it.

Price chuckled darkly behind you, one hand on your hip as the other shimmied his pants down. "You liked when I threatened that fuckhead, didn't you, love? S'that what got this slutty cunt all wet?"

You nodded, skin hot.

Price tutted you softly. "Naughty, naughty girl, rookie."

"Only for you." You whimpered, and Price paused his movements behind you.

Then, he groaned, and you felt his warm cock press against the curve of your arse as he bent his body over you, draping his toned abdomen against your spine.

"Yeah, that's fucking right," he growled into your shoulder, pressing a kiss there. "S'only for me."

That definitely awakened something inside of him.

Leaning back, he grabbed hold of his painfully hard cock and began to drag the ruddy tip along your glistening folds. You moaned into your arm, resting them beneath your head. He grunted under his breath, snagging the head of his cock against your entrance, a schlick sounding through the kitchen.

"Fuck, listen to this pretty cunt talk," Price groaned, repeating the action with his cock and earning the same wet sound. "S'just begging to be stuffed full. Begging to be fucked."

You were burning up beneath him. You wiggled your hips, pressing your arse further onto him, and he gripped your hip tighter.

"Be patient." Price warned, drumming his fingers on the bone of your hip.

You didn't listen.

You whined, backing your arse against him. "Price, sir, I need it."

"You need it? Aw, my poor girl. My poor, needy girl, so desperate for cock," Price mused, running his cock along your folds again. "What do you say?"

"Please–"

"Please, what?"

"Please, sir, fuck, need you so bad." You sobbed.

"That's what I thought," Price uttered, pushing the fat head of his cock into your drooling cunt, stretching you out. "Needed this cock so bad, I know. S'all right, love."

He pushed deeper and deeper into you; your silken walls clinging to him, constricting his cock and making him sigh deeply into the skin of your back. Eventually, he was nestled as far as he could go with his hips flush to your arse and the head of his cock kissing the entrance of your cervix. You mewled quietly as he placed a few wet kisses along the column of your spine, hands massaging your hips.

"There we go, love, taking me so well." He whispered as he pulled out of you, tip resting at your entrance.

You were about to complain at the sudden emptiness, but he was thrusting all the way back in before you could get the words out. You choked on your sentence, gasping, as he slammed into you and began a pace that left you slumping against the kitchen island like a rag-doll, whimpering.

"I know, I know, just feels so good, doesn't it, darling?" Price cooed in response to your desperate whimpers. "Your captain's cock feels so good in this pretty cunt, doesn't it?"

Deliriously, you nodded. "Y-yeah, feels s-so good, sir."

He grunted in reply, slamming into you over and over and relishing in the way your walls sucked him in. He wanted to mould you to the shape of his cock. Ruin you for any other man. He wanted you to want his cock, and his alone. He wanted you.

He moaned deeply. "This cunt was made for me, love. Perfect, squeezing my cock so good. S'mine now, love. All mine."

You couldn't argue with that.

You'd never have thought that your captain could act like this. Animalistic in the way he rutted into your dripping heat, heavy cock dragging against your walls, head kissing the entrance of your womb. His hands were tight on the curve of your hips, groping and kneading the flesh as he pulled you onto his cock repeatedly, matching the gruelling pace of his thrusts.

He'd rendered you a babbling, whimpering mess– whining softly, calling his name, drunk off his cock. You let your mouth drop open, a languid string of moans falling from between your lips.

"Sir, m'gonna cum." You managed to say between airy moans, and he huffed in response, skimming his teeth down your spine.

"Cum for me, darling. Cum 'round my cock."

You did, with a loud moan that his neighbours may or may not have heard through the silence of the night. You spasmed around his cock, arousal flooding out of you and painting his lower abdomen and thighs in slick. You tightened around him and he groaned, sucking marks down the expanse of your arched back.

He redoubled his pace as you became pliant beneath him. You let him use you– fucking into your soaked cunt like he was starving for it. He was grunting and groaning under his breath, mouth still sucking bruises along your back, before he dragged his lips up your spine and rested his head at your shoulder.

His thrusts were losing rhythm as he neared his release. The movement of his hips was yearning– his need to cum stringing him rigid as he pounded into your tight cunt.

He was losing his absolute mind.

"Fuck, such a good cunt, so tight n' wet," he groaned into your shoulder. "Better than I imagined. So much better."

The needy rutting of his hips and the depth in which his cock reached inside of you was quickly pushing you towards another orgasm. It built fiery hot in your abdomen as he babbled into your shoulder, losing control of the dominant persona he had began with.

"Huh-hngh-fuck, yeah, that's it, darling, that's it, taking my cock so fucking well," his words were stringing together. "M'gonna cum inside, okay? Wanna fuck you full of me."

You arched further for him, taking him deeper. "Please, sir, cum inside–"

Your orgasm crashed over you and you whimpered his name, body shuddering, wetness dribbling down your legs. Price cursed quietly as you gushed around his cock again.

"Always wanted to fill this cunt. Wanted to– ah, fuck– wanted to breed you nice and full, rookie. Make it– hngh– take. Make you all pretty and fat with my kid–"

That made your cunt squeeze him extra tight, a new wave of arousal pooling between your thighs. In response, he groaned low into the crook of your neck and thrust his hips so hard you felt winded against the marble. The head of his cock nudged the plug of your womb as he came, a lot. Endless strings of warmth, filling you, overflowing onto the hardwood floor. He whined your name into your neck, sucking one last lazy bruise to the smooth skin.

"Good girl," he whispered, angling his head to kiss the juncture of your jaw. "My good girl."

•º•

"Morning, rookie, how was your break?" Soap asked as you walked into the barracks three weeks later.

You shrugged. "Not bad, actually. How about you?"

"It was good," he smiled. "Ghost n' I went up to Inverness. Beautiful part of the country, that is."

You smiled back at him. "That's really cool! Have you got any photos?"

He beamed as you dumped your bag onto the couch and slumped down next to it. Soap took a seat beside you, taking his phone out of his pocket. He opened his camera roll just as Price strolled into the room, hat on his head.

"Morning, Soap. Keeping well?" He asked, approaching the back of the couch and ruffling Soap's mohawk. "Need a bloody haircut."

Soap battered his captain's hand away, smiling. Then, Price was looming over you.

"Rookie." He said simply.

"Captain." You replied.

"Good break?" He asked.

Visions of the entire three weeks flashed through your mind– you and Price in his kitchen, his living-room, his bedroom, his bathroom, his pool, his fucking car. You were hardly ever home during those three weeks.

"It was a great break," you battered your eyelashes at him. "You?"

He pat your head gently, walking away. "The best break I've had in a while."

When he left, you followed his figure with your eyes. After a moment, you turned back to Soap, who was giving you a peculiar look.

You furrowed your brows. "What?"

"That was weird."

"What? No it wasn't"

"Mhm," he wiggled his eyebrows. "You have something to share, rookie?"

You rolled your eyes. "Not particularly."

"Oh, come on, lass."

"Nothing to share," you shrugged. "Unless you want to share the great time you had with Ghost in Inverness?"

You gave him a pointed look. He looked away, cheeks pink.

"Fuck off."

"Love you too, Soap."

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #captain john price #captain price #captain price smut #fem reader #price x reader #captain john price x female reader #captain’snirvana

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barzysunflower · 3 months

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As a story request Since we see barzal at charity events when if he meets y/n there but she was a waiter serving she takes those gig sometimes to make extra cash but she serves some sleezy men who whistle at her and while she was surviving drinks barzal stands up with out see her above her by accident she spills the drinks on her self all the guys at the table yelling and her even her boss barzal helps her and apologizes but at the same times he’s like so mesmerizing by her but her boss ends up yelling at her telling her to go to the back while and mat just say it was his fault don’t blame her but the boss being a bitch says no it’s her fault bla bla but barzal trying to find her he thought it was over when he doesn’t see her anymore and he can’t just leave the charity he’s gotta stay Intill the end he lost all hope and felt bad for getting her in trouble but faith came true because since the players were the last to leave he sees her just waiting for her Uber he immediately goes to her and then… ending anyway you want :)

hii thank you for the request 🫶🏼 I hope you like this one!!

wc: 1.2k

once upon a time — mat barzal

It was a late summer evening and you strolled around the pier, enjoying the breeze and last moments of peace before you'd have to clock into work. You already had a long day of work behind you, but New York was expensive, so you took waitressing gigs at all kinds of fancy events to get some extra cash. While the money was great, those few hours were extremely stressful and sometimes the clientele you were serving could get on your nerves.

You were right to take those extra few moments looking at ocean, the horizon, to just daydream, as when you walked into event you could immediately tell it was going to be a bad night. But you sucked it up and went to work. Despite the new manager already yelling at everyone making you want to turn right back around when you walked in.

You were running around all night, serving food, taking plates away, and dodging older creepy men trying to hit on you. But it was part of your job to keep that polite smile on your face while also remaining invisible, so that's what you did.

It was later that night though, when things really escalated that had you evaluating whether the money you'd make that night was truly worth it. You were serving more drinks to probably the loudest table at the event, but honestly they were having the most fun and were the only table that hadn't pissed you off yet, when one of the guests stood up, pushing his chair right into you and spilling the tray of drink all over your- and himself.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry." The guy immediately apologized, scrambling to pick up the broken glass off the floor. A few seconds filled with shock and extreme awareness that the entire ballroom's attention was on you had you standing still, but you quickly bent down to help manage the mess.

"I'm so sorry." He apologized again.

"No, totally my bad. And please stop, that's my job," you cut in, still not looking up to meet his gaze.

"No, I didn't look before I got up. I'm so sorry." You finally looked up at the intriguing voice to look into beautiful green eyes. He stared back just as intensely as you did, both of you stopped shoving pieces of glass on to the serving tray. The rest of his face was just as beautiful, but you didn't have much more time to stare at him further as the angry voice of your manager cut through that little bubble.

"What the hell happened?"

You were the first one up, barely meeting the intense gaze of your manager. "I tripped. I'm sorry–"

"No," the green eyed beauty quickly interrupted. "It was totally my fault. I got in her way, I didn't look where I was going."

Your manager gave him an apologetic look, but he could hide the anger behind it. "No, it's her fault. She's to be invisible, meeting your needs. She should watch where she's going."

"No, really–” But his attempt was cut off again, you manager now apologizing to the table, to him, and waving over more staff to come clean up the mess. Then he turned to you with a furious look on his face that he kept hidden behind a fake smile.

“You. In the back. Now.” You flinched at his words, knowing it couldn’t lead to good ending. Tears welled up in your eyes. You were exhausted and overwhelmed and someone yelling at you for something that wasn’t your fault just added to your breaking point. But you wouldn’t break just yet. Not in front of this group. Not in front of the handsome stranger, who was still advocating for you to your manager – though useless – and shooting you apologetic looks. “Now!”

That’s when you finally moved, around the people cleaning the mess, walking as fast as possible away from the prying eyes of everyone in the room. In the kitchen, the other servers who definitely witnessed what happened came to your aid with some water and encouraging words, but they quickly went back to work when that beast of a manger came storming in after you.

To say that you were let go would be an understatement. He did not listen to a word of defense you tried to offer and instead turned your termination into a lecture for all of the staff on how not to do the job. No one spoke or rebelled his words, everyone including you just silently staring at him as he yelled. You stopped listening a while ago, fully knowing none of this was your fault and that there had to be something terribly wrong with him to fire you for one mistake.

When the manager’s speech was finally over and you were ordered to leave, you did so without hesitation. So you left, ran from this horrible day. Ran from this horrible job. The only thing haunting you as you ran were those beautiful green eyes.

***

“Then what happened?” The small girl curled up into your right asked, fighting a yawn.

“Yeah! What about the prince? Did he run after her?” You turned away from her to look into the eyes of your firstborn, her green eyes lighting up in excitement.

“He did,” you answered, not hiding your smile. “In fact, he was so anxious to catch up to her that he left the ball early, asking everyone in sight if they had seen her. All he wanted to do was apologize to her. It took him a while, but he did eventually find her outside, just as she was about to get into a car- a carriage. He leaped into traffic, stopping the girl just in time, but not without causing a bunch of passengers to angrily honk and yell in protest.” The two girls giggled at your dramatics.

“Well, it was worth it. She was so beautiful he couldn’t not go after her and do anything to talk to her.” The deep voice wrapped around your heart, warming it.

“Was?,” you playfully asked your husband, looking your eyes with his beautiful green ones that your daughter had inherited.

“Is. She still is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” You smiled at each other, both remembering when Mat caught up to you, out of breath and messed up hair from the wind. He rambled on for a while, apologizing for getting you in trouble and his adventure of finding out more about you and were you had gone, only stopping when you laughed at him calling your manager a brainless shithead. It was the prettiest laugh he’d ever heard and told you so. Your blushing only grew his own smile and you had no idea what came over you when you returned the compliment. He convinced you to stay and walk with him for a bit along the pier and you talked and talked and talked as if you had known each other for ages.

“Did they get married?,” your seven year old daughter asked.

“They did,” you answered, still smiling. “And they had three of the most beautiful children.”

You looked over the king sized bed with your family in it, Mat on his side with your five year old son fast asleep on top of him, your three year old daughter next to you and your oldest squished between you and Mat. And you thanked the lucky stars for that horrible job and Mat’s horrible lack of awareness of his surroundings.

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fics #hockey imagine #nhl blurbs #new york islanders

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samthestrangerthingsfan · 2 months

Text

Out of The Woods

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: You're back in Hawkins, and the memories keep on coming.

chapter warnings: mentions of grief, parental loss, motherhood, swearing, brief description of injury (bloody nose)

a/n: chapter one! the ball is officially rolling! I'm so excited for you all to read and get to know these characters. Enjoy!

chapter one: I've Got Sunshine || series masterlist

Muscle memory is a funny thing.

The faded wheel of your ‘88 Ford Escort was being gripped so hard that your knuckles ached. You recalled shortcuts and one-ways with ease, moved through neighborhoods and back roads you hadn’t been down in nearly decade--seven years to be exact. They say home is where your heart is; if that was the case, Hawkins stopped being home a long time ago.

Still, part of you supposed it was normal.

Normal to remember this place so vividly, you could draw its map with your eyes closed. Normal to recall the smells and sounds and the stoplight that hasn’t worked properly since ‘79.

Normal to see the Plant, and Melvald’s—Joyce Byers’ car parked dutifully out front. You remembered everything, despite having tried to forget.

You never thought you'd be back here. After you got your diploma, after all the hell you'd been through--after what happened, you’d gone East. A scholarship earned you a full ride to Yale University.

Then life happened.

Maggie happened.

Once school was no longer an option, you looked for work. Doing job after job, sometimes three at a time to make the rent and keep food on the table for her.

As much as you tried to deny it, everything seemed like a sign from above that this place wasn’t meant to be. Rent went up, you’d been let go from your waitressing job, and then your car started to shit the bed.

Hey, when it rains it pours, am I right?

Then came the call that brought you back here to Hawkins in the first place.

Your Dad died.

Not that you’d ever been particularly close, especially not after your Mom died. You were just 14 at the time and it was hard. That's the age every girl needs her Mom, and without yours, you were left to navigate grief, high school, and becoming a good person all on your own.

Your Father was...an unfortunate side effect of her passing. Consumed by his own grief, you assumed. It turned into him not being able to stomach being around you. The fighting was constant, you could never do anything right in his eyes, and he could never replace your Mom in yours. You’d practically lived everywhere but home your entire high school career, and he was either working at the Plant, or too drunk to care.

That’s why when a lawyer called you up and told you you’d been left his house, you damn near fainted.

"You're sure you have the right person?" You asked, stretching the cord around your finger nervously.

The man repeated your name, date of birth, and 'relationship to the deceased'.

"The home has been paid off since, lemme see here," You heard the flip of a paper, "'Ah, '78. Taxes and such can be put into your name when you begin occupying the residence, but we do need a decision by--"

"I'll take it!" The words flew out of your mouth before your brain could stop you.

This was a sign, the last sign you needed. You took $300 out of your savings to fix your car, packed up everything that mattered, and the two of you started the 12 our road-trip home.

Now you were just two right turns away.

“Hey, Sunshine. You awake back there?” You ask, a smile in your tone.

Maggie stretched, adjusting the blanket on her lap. “I’m up, Mama.” She's smiling, clearly just beginning to wipe the sleep from her eyes. “Where are we?”

The question left your daughter’s mouth just as you turned into the driveway.

Slowly, you find the strength to put the car in park. Deep breaths, right? That's what you tell Mags to do when she's scared. So you take your own advice, and do one big deep breath. “Our new home.”

Maggie’s gasp startled you. “We get a whole house?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Yes, baby girl. A whole house, and guess what else?”

She clutched her worn, stuffed teddy bear tightly to her chest and watched you with bated breath.

“You get your own room!”

Your six-year-old squealed with delight, kicking her feet into the seat in front of her. “Mama I’m so excited! Can we go in? Please! Please!” She begged happily.

With shaking hands, you snatched the key from the ignition. “Absolutely.”

Maggie’s feet were taking her faster than the rest of her could follow. As she waited on the stoop of the familiar blue house, you bent down and lifted the 5th rock from the left that lined the path. The key was there, just as it always had been, though now it was aged with rust. You’d hidden it there after being unable to wake your Dad from his drunken stupor on more than one occasion.

The house—your house, was nothing grand, but the look on your daughter's face said otherwise.

“Mama, we get this whole place?”

You tussled her hair as she moved to wander the living room. “Sure do, baby girl.

The two of you had lived in a one bedroom for her entire life. In the six years since you'd had her, she’d never really had a space to call her own, and even though you’d given Maggie all you had, it killed you not to be able to give her what she deserved.

“So, I was thinking…Maggie?”

You walked the familiar hallway to find her in your old bedroom; it looked exactly like it did the day you left.

“Mama! Is this you?” She ran at you, holding an old Polaroid.

With tender hands, you grabbed it from her. “It sure is, Mags.”

Her smile grew as she spoke, “So pretty, Mama. Who’s the peoples with you?”

The grin on your face matched hers, “This right here? This is Robin, she’s the one who sends me all of those funny birthday cards.”

Robin didn’t know you were back, and you’re not exactly sure how to say, “Hey remember me? Your friend who disappeared? Well, I’m back for good and so is my daughter that you’ve never met.”

“Oh, who’s this boy?”

You chuckled, “That’s Steve. He’s a real cheese-ball, but you’d love him. I hope you get to meet him some day"

Maggie's giggles filled the room, and you could feel your cheeks aching from the size of your smile.

She deserves the world. I'm gonna make sure she gets it.

"Mama?"

You sit on the edge of your old desk, "Hm?"

"Who's this guy with the long hair?"

Your heart sank. Collapsing in on itself, and descending into your stomach. "That's uh, his...his name is Eddie."

Saying his name--speaking him into reality made you sick. It made your bones ache and your muscles twist with rage and grief.

Just then, your beautiful daughter, blissfully unaware and innocent, asks a follow up question.

"Is he your friend too, Mama?"

The lump in your throat was hard to swallow, but you do it for her. "He used to be." It's all you can manage.

She holds the photo in her little hand, analyzing the image with all of the brainpower her six year old mind could muster.

"His eyes kinda look like my eyes!"

7 little words, spoken in the sweetest, happiest tone, break you.

"They kinda do, don't they?" You ask, turning around to pretend to organize whatever random clutter you could find.

Maggie places the photo on the desk, and moved on to the next room.

"Wow, Mama! A bathtub! i can take bubble baths!" She echos off the tiles walls, and you crumble. Falling to you knees and silencing your sobs with you palm.

How are you gonna do this? How are you going to live here and avoid him? What will happen in he sees you? See's her?

Maggie is all that matters in this. Hawkins is big enough, right? Surely, you can avoid all of the old haunts you remember Eddie going too. Avoid the Hideout and Lover's Lake, and certainly avoid the Forest Hill's trailer park.

God, that place was your sanctuary for so long--both you and Eddie.

After every party, every fight with your Dad, you'd find comfort at the Munson home. Wayne demanding you stay as long as you wanted, and assuring you that this place is as much yours as it is Eddie's.

The trailer was where you cleaned Eddie up after every run in with Jason and the other douchebags at Hawkins High.

NOVEMBER 15th, 1985

Your fingertips turned crimson as you held the damp towel to Eddie’s nose. He winced the moment it made contact with the newly bruised flesh.

“Fucking…fuck.” Eddie barely managed to get it out.

You recoiled, but he protested. “Nope…no. Just, just get it over with.”

Slowly and as carefully as you could, you dabbed the blood from the already purple skin. “Jesus, Eds. You bruise like a peach.” It’s a small offer of a joke, a way to ease his pain and your guilt.

A hiss as you touch a particularly sensitive part on the bridge of his nose. “Sorry.” You’re the one wincing now.

“Still look tough though, right? Even if I got my ass kicked?” He smiled gently, a self-deprecating pull at the corner of his mouth.

The trailer was cold, it was just turning fall in Hawkins, and Wayne didn’t use the heat unless it was below freezing. A chill ran down your spine as your stomach flipped.

“You got a couple of good licks in, I just wish you didn’t—“

He cuts you off immediately. “It’s never a question, and you know that.”

A shaking sigh passes your lips as you turn your back to him. The warm water running from the sink rinses the blood out of the washcloth, and as swirls of red spin down the drain, you're fighting back tears. “Jason’s a prick who gets his rocks off watching people squirm. He knows I’m repulsed by him. He’s not worth it, Eddie.”

You hated seeing him like this because of you. Jason was being foul and vulgar and his typical jock-with-one-brain-cell self when he’d cornered you in the cafeteria.

Fortunately for you, he didn’t see Eddie walk in behind him.

Jason was describing exactly how he’d 'make you moan'—barf—when Eddie spun him around and decked him.

He was able to get three or four shots on him before the rest of Jason's caveman friends ganged up on Eddie, only stopping when Principal Higgins stepped in.

“He’s not, but you are. I don’t know how many times we gotta go over this, Bug. I’ll never let anyone hurt you--ever. Who cares if I get a little banged up in the process?”

Bug.

The nickname he's called you for the past 4 years. A way he shows you that it really is just you and him against the world.

"I care. You're all I've got Eddie Munson." You say it dramatically, in hope the seriousness of the moment wouldn't make things weird. Eddie's warm hand finds your cheek, the pad of his thumb swept over the soft skin.

"Forever, kid. You and me."

The memory made you shiver.

Get it together. You chastise yourself.

"Hey Mags?" You call, scrubbing the emotion from your face onto your palms.

She bounds down the hall, still in awe at the space. "Yeah, Mom? Did you know my room has a closet? I can fit all my toys inside!"

Your arms reach for her, and she jumps into your embrace instantly. After squeezing her, you pull back to take in the little person you'd made.

God, she really does look so much like him.

She's got your nose, and cheeks for sure. But those eyes? The smile? That's Eddie, through and through.

"You know I love you, right?" You kiss her forehead.

Maggie pushed your cheeks together, smushing you face in her palms. "I know, Mama. 'Nember what you always say?"

"What's that, Mags?" You ask, brushing the hair from her eyes.

"You and me, kid. Forever and ever."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #OoTW #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic

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dysfunctionalmaki · 4 months

Text

Say My Name

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Chapter 03/?

Summary: You work all around at the local country club, to your advantage you flirted and used your beauty to get what you want, though with this certain woman your own way can't seem to work.

Warning: This work contains smut and foul language, minors DNI!!

A/N: This update came too long but with the holidays going on, I was occupied but I assure this work could be smooth sailing from now on.

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You were nervous, that's the simplest way you can describe what you're feeling, the table by the window was occupied by Wanda who was having her lunch alone, you were too sure that your eyes would always meet with hers whenever you'd look her way. Yelena even noticed the way you're fiddling with the pen you're holding, Bucky had to steal it away from you since he can't stand the constant clicking sound that came from the object. “Well, what the hell are you doing here? Go do your pretty girl things that you always do, Y/N.” Barnes teased and you can't help but roll your eyes.

“What? No! Y/N, you're not pulling that shit with a married woman.” Yelena retorted, trying to play with your conscience until she chuckled. “Just kidding, go do your thing, her husband's an ass.” she snorted which made you laugh nervously, looking around the room you looked eyes with the redhead once more. Slightly raising her hand to get your attention, you went to be at her service after all you’re still her waitress. “What time are you heading out?” She asked casually which made you widen your eyes a little but you looked at your watch. “In four hours… I'm sure you won't push around your salad for that long.” You say which made the older woman smile. “I have some errands to do but I think it'll be nice to tell Yelena that you won't be going home with her.” Wanda says as she took her designer handbag, taking out her purse so she could get her credit card to pay for her meal.

Doing your job, you went to take it and bring it over to the counter. You weren't sure why you're so nervous, you've done this before… you've hooked up with people way shadier than Wanda, in fact… she's probably the most normal one you're about to go after. When they're finished with her card, you went back to Wanda to return the item to her. She smiled as you returned and took back her card, placing it back in her purse before putting on her sunglasses that made her look even hotter considering how well it matched her outfit. “I’ll pick you up, make sure those two keep their mouths shut about us.” she softly says before getting up from her seat, clearly talking about Yelena and Bucky who were basically watching from their stations.

Placing a hand on your forearm, gently squeezing on it and letting go of you almost immediately, then you watched her walk out of the restaurant with such elegance and style, she didn't have to wear the most obvious designer clothing to scream out that she's loaded, the way she carries herself and her aura was enough to tell that she's that kind of person. Getting inside of her luxury car that the valet got for her, that kind of vehicle was enough to tell you that she is surely a powerful woman. Making your way back to your station, the two gave a certain look and you're immediately reminded of what Wanda told you to do. “So… I hope you two can shut your mouth about this.” You say then Bucky shrugged. “I can keep my mouth shut, I don't know about this one.” Barnes teased while using his thumb to point at Yelena who's waiting on the drink he's making. “Just be careful with what you're doing, you're playing with fire here, Y/N.” she warned you, shrugging with what your friend said, you just went on to do your job.

Hours went by and you were exhausted, you've told Yelena that Wanda’s most probably picking you up, and you think that the older woman was… well, ‘man’ of her words. Heading into the restroom so you could freshen up after your shift, finally you've let your hair down, spray on perfume that has worn off hours ago, and finally you clock out. Heading to walk outside the country club, you see the familiar car that has picked you up once. Making your way towards there, you hear someone call your name and it's coming from a car that just pulled up. “Y/N, how are you darling?” The familiar voice called to you which surprised you, Wanda was about to open the door for you from the inside but confused by what made you stop.

“Diana? Hi! How are you home so soon?” You greeted the other woman who just exited her car, Diana wrapped her arms around you the moment she got close to you, you went to look at Wanda’s car and you're sure as hell that she's watching all this happening. “The meeting went well, everything goes to my approval hence why I'm back here early, didn't tell you ‘cause I'm planning to surprise you… seems like I did.” she says as she batted an eye towards the redhead’s car. “Well, yeah- I'm actually surprised.” you say then you looked at Diana before gently pulling away from her arms. “Mhmm, are you coming with me or not?” she asked so casually. Meanwhile, Wanda can't really hear what you and this woman was talking about, though she could sense there's something between you and this stranger but she didn't want to pry much instead she just waited.

“I- I'm afraid I can't, I made a commitment and I really stick by my words… you know that.” you say which made Diana roll her eyes. “Sure, but you know where to find me and you'd have to promise that you're going to make it up to me.” She says which made you bite the inside of your cheek. “Of course, you know I always do.” You say and finally you bid your goodbyes to her, and Wanda unlocked the door for you… now, you awkwardly get inside her car. “She looks familiar.” Wanda commented the moment she finally drove off. “Oh, she's also a member of the club so you probably ran into her a couple of times if you went here back then.” you say while the redhead nod in response.

“So, I'm going to ask the same question that I asked you last night in our texts… You're aware that I am a married woman, right?” she asked then you simply answer with a yes. “You like trouble don't you? The way that woman held you? There's something there isn't it?” she softly chuckled then you took a moment to think what to answer. “Well, it's no secret that Diana and I do go out… completely casual and no strings attached.” you say causing Wanda to raise a brow. “I hope you're not expecting the same thing with me, Y/N.” the redhead softly spoke. “I don't like sharing at all.” she added with the most innocent smile that she could put on.

“But I think you and I both know what I want.” you say honestly and Maximoff looked at you for a moment. “Oh, you're getting straight to it?” she chuckled before biting her lower lip. “Well, this is how it usually is, right? The married woman goes for the girl she wants to experiment with and once it's done… it's done.” you say, causing the older woman to laugh softly. “Marrying a man is more like the experiment.” Wanda scoffed, she went to drive a little longer and finally you both arrived at some motel out of town, well, she probably chose this one so no one could recognize the both of you and especially her.

Getting out of the car, you went after her just tailing behind her, heading into the motel the older woman asked you to do most of the talking so you did, you chose a decent room for the both of you. While you two were in the elevator, you went to move a little closer to Wanda’s side. “It's Diana Prince… I think she works for Wayne's company.” Wanda says all of a sudden. “Yes, that's her. Do you know her?” She shook her head at your question then you nodded yours. “Well, it's probably just I've seen her whenever I have to do some errands when I do business meetings with their company.” she added. “And you're aware that I'm married to a man who's somehow related to Stark too, right?” you nodded your head once more.

The moment the elevator, Wanda went ahead first and you followed after her, though you had to go first eventually since you're the one holding the key card. The moment you two were inside, Wanda went to look around the room for a moment, while you placed your bag on the chair by the desk near the bed. “What do you mean you don't like to share?” you ask her and tracing back to what she said earlier. “If you want to get me and have me, I want you to have me and only me.” Wanda says and she turns to face you. “Come on, I'm sure you're aware how much of a pretty face you are.” she added which made you even more confused.

“You really want me to put it into simpler terms?” Wanda says with a sigh before composing herself, walking closer to you. “I want to be the only one kissing this lips of yours, be the only one who gets to mark you up… take you whenever I want and whenever I need.” the more the redhead talked about her whims for you, you can't help but feel your body warm up. Eventually, you felt her hand resting on your waist. “You're going to have an affair with a powerful woman, Y/N, are you sure you're ready to take the heat?” she asked as she pulled you closer to her, fingers slowly digging into your skin. “I- uh- You mean I have to drop every possible connection that I have?” That was the question you could ask, sure it does sound stupid but your mind stop working when this woman had you under her spell.

“Well, you're quite greedy if you want to keep me around and still have other people, don't you think?” she asked then finally your face was only a couple of inches apart from hers. “I mean… I know I'm a catch, sweetheart.” she confidently says. Unsure of what to say at this point, all you know is that the both of you were staring at each other's lips, you didn't know how it occurred and who made the move first all you know is that the both of you started kissing… It was needy, hot, and desperate. To your surprise, it was Wanda taking the control here, you were always the one in control… they always have the hots for you and not vice versa, but this woman certainly has her way for you.

Eventually, you found yourself going at Wanda’s flow, you could feel the warmth of her tongue against yours, her wet muscle just swirling against yours. You walked backwards, trying to get a feel whether you're near the bed or not and as the back of your leg hit it, you slowly sank to your knees and sat on the mattress. This time your hands were around the older woman's waist, you were trying to take control this time… your hand was hiking up the blouse that she was wearing, yet you were stopped when she held your wrist. “Who said that you could touch?” Wanda purred as she parted her lips from yours just so she could speak. “I've got to have you first before you get me, malysh…” she spoke in her thick sokovian accent that caused butterflies all over your stomach.

“I- uh- I'm yours…” you stuttered which made Wanda chuckle. “We both know you're not there yet, sweetheart.” she says and you know damn well that she's not wrong. “But, we'll get there.” she whispered against your lips, now she crashed her lips against yours once again. The redhead straddles your lap, her lips moving perfectly with yours, you never felt this desperate… desperate for someone's touch, lips, and warmth. “Give me a chance tonight…” you mumbled against her lips which made her smirk. “No, I want you to crave for me… to the point you'll have no choice but to submit yourself to me.” she answered.

For a couple of hours the both of you didn't do anything but make out, and you've never felt so frustrated, neither of you took your clothes off. Here you are facing the mirror by the sink at the mirror, and what's worse? You're alone, the older woman had to leave since she had to be home when her husband unexpectedly came home. Taking your phone from your bag, you went to call someone.

“Hey, I know it's late and you're probably tired but I was wondering… if you can pick me up?” you hear a soft laugh from the other end. “You didn't score? You're not in your game, darling?” Diana teased which made you chuckle. “I guess you can say that.” You went to tell her where the motel was, this woman actually drove this late so she could get to you, she asked what your room number is and not even an hour later she was knocking on your door. “Should have come with me.” she says before leaning instantly for a kiss and you made sure to give her that satisfaction.

Spending the rest of the night with Diana instead of Wanda whom you came here with, lavishing on Prince’s warmth and taste on the same bed where you made out with the redhead you had earlier. You really are playing with fire after all, it's either you burn brighter than the fire you caused or be burnt, and you know you're never one to back out from a challenge.

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Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta @reginassweetheart @lvinhs @alexawynters @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop

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frenchkisstheabyss · 5 months

Text

୨୧ ＭｏｄｅｒｎＬｏｖｅ ୨୧

୨୧ Pairing: criminal!boyfriend!mingyu x chubby!waitress!fem!reader

୨୧ Genre: crime au/a mix of fluff & angst/smut

୨୧ Summary: Your friends always told you that Kim Mingyu was trouble but when he shows up unexpectedly at your job, covered in bruises with a bag of stolen money, you see how much trouble he really can be.

୨୧ Word Count: 3.5kish

୨୧ Warnings: mention of blood/injuries, a gun that's not used but is in there, strong language, unprotected sex, a lil bit of rough sex, fingering, creampie, & that's all I'm pretty sure

୨୧ A/N: I haven't written in a bit and I really wanted to start writing something crime related so here we are 🖤

There’s a lot you’ve come to tolerate waitressing at the diner. Customers with shitty attitudes who leave even shittier tips. Line cooks who get every other order wrong only to blame you because you must have mixed their tickets up somehow. The thin layer of grease that lingers on your clothes, leaving the scent of day old fries to haunt you even after you’ve washed your uniform a thousand times. All of that you can tolerate but this, your boss screaming at you like some psychopath, never fails to make your blood boil.

It’s always something with him. This time it’s that you didn’t refill the ketchup last night before close even though you weren’t the one who closed. The waitress who closed, a soft spoken girl who only started a week ago, called in this morning to quit just like every other waitress before her. The only girls insane enough to stick around are you and Moon, the waitress who trained you and the only person you’ve ever seen go toe to toe with your boss.

His screaming’s getting louder but you can’t even hear it. You zoned out ages ago. It’s like watching a TV on mute. If not for the growing redness of his face or the flinches of the passing food runners, you wouldn’t know a thing. Everyday you think about quitting. You lay in bed fantasizing about a life where you don’t have to put up with this to survive but in the end you always roll out of bed and show up.

What else are you supposed to do? You weren’t born into money and, luck never quite being on your side in life, it's not likely to just fall into your lap. So this is it. This. Is. It. Your stomach sinks as your boss steps closer, the veins in his hairy neck straining enough to pop a blood vessel. This can’t be it. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Moon shouts, pushing through the double doors behind you. The noise of the kitchen cuts back in at a dizzying speed. Dishes clanking, grease sizzling, water running, cooks calling out orders.

“You don’t talk to me that way!” your boss shouts back, dialing down his rage as he aims it at Moon. She pulls her dark hair back into a tight ponytail, cornering him against a rack of dirty dishes. “You don’t talk to her that way! The next time I hear you yelling at her I’ll report you to the health department for all of the little critters we have running around here or would you like me to tell the customers first?” He wants to say something to her but he can’t.

He knows she’s serious enough that she’d pop on a glove and go show off the bug traps to every customer packed into the questionably clean booths of the dining room. “Get back to work!” he snaps, “Both of you!” With that he storms off to his office mumbling every misogynistic thought in his pea brain. Moon turns to you, giving you a hug. You let out a sigh of relief, enjoying the comfort of her arms even though she smells like sandwiches. You do too.

“I fucking hate him.” “Fucking hate him for sure” she agrees, “But I know something that’ll cheer you up.” “What could possibly make me feel better?” Moon grabs you by the shoulders and directs you to the small round window on the door, “Your boyfriend’s here. Looks a little beat up though. Wonder what he got into this time.” Before she can finish her sentence and launch into another lecture about your choice in men, you’re racing to the booth in the corner where Mingyu sits patiently waiting for you.

He spots you in an instant, jumping up to give you a hug and soothe the panic that paints your face. A little beat up is an understatement. He’s covered in cuts and bruises. A busted lip here. A bruised eye there. A bandaged cut on the side of his neck. His knuckles skinned and raw. Your hands don’t know where to go or what to inspect. They’re just frantically skimming his frame, dreading the next surprise. “What happened?”

Mingyu tries to downplay it, apprecating that you’re worried for him but still not wanting you to worry too much. “Baby, I’m okay. Calm down.” He’s lying and you both know it. Everytime something like this happens he tries to shrug it off, pretending that he doesn’t get hurt worse and worse each time he gets back from one of his "jobs". “How can I calm down? Look at you.” “Look at me? What does that mean? Don’t you think I’m pretty?” he teases, placing his hands on your cheeks. Even with his fingers all beat up and achy, he has the most gentle touch you’ve ever felt.

He smiles and all you can do is smile back. Of course you think he’s pretty, the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen, and you’re a sucker for him in the worst way. So much that you forget for a few fleeting seconds that there’s the lightest spot of blood seeping through the crisp white bandage on his neck. “Cute but I still need you to tell me what’s going on” you persist, glancing back to catch Moon watching over you as she works her tables.

Mingyu turns you back to look at him, the wildness in his deep brown eyes thrilling and frightening you all at once.

“You trust me don’t you?”

“Ming—”

“Do you trust me?”

“I mean, duh, of course I trust you but—”

“Then quit” he says as if it’s nothing. As if this job isn’t the only thing paying for the hole in the wall apartment you rent up the street. “I can’t just quit. I need this job.” Mingyu presses his forehead to yours, bringing his arms around your waist to hold you closer. “Not anymore. I can take care of you now. I just really need you to trust me and come with me. We don’t have a lot of time.”

It’s impossible to make sense of anything he’s saying when he’s being this vague. You have a million questions and no time to ask them. “Hey! Play with your boyfriend on your own time!” your boss shouts from across the counter, “Get back to these tables before I fire your ass!” Mingyu’s jaw clenches, his temper ready to erupt on your boss for daring to speak to you that way. “I got this” you whisper, rubbing his shoulders to cool him down. He’s already had enough action for one day. The last thing he needs is another scuffle.

Your boss goes on rambling but this time you don’t drown him out. You hear every word. Every disgusting, vile thing he can spew in your direction. The thought of dealing with this every single day is torture. Mingyu's way out, whatever it is, has to be better than this. Your friends might not agree, Moon would surely have you thrown in an asylum, but you have to trust Mingyu or risk this being the rest of your life.

Grabbing a pitcher of ice water from one of the tables, you calmly approach the counter and throw it in your boss’ face. “Oh my god” Moon gasps, covering her mouth to hide her amusement. “Do it yourself. I quit. Mingyu, let’s go.” You march out of the diner, ripping your apron and name tag off as your sneakers hit the dirt of the parking lot. Your palms are sweaty, your heart’s racing, and you have no idea what’s gotten into you but it feels good. “That was sick” Mingyu applauds, kissing your fluffy cheeks, “I didn’t know my girlfriend was such a badass.” “Shut up” you giggle as he guides you to his car, a vintage deathtrap that his father gifted to him.

Mingyu seats you on the passenger's side, picking up a heavy black duffle bag from the floor and plopping it onto your lap. You stare down at it, too afraid to even touch it. With Mingyu’s line of work anything could be in this bag. Not a body, of course, it’s much too small for that. But guns? Drugs? “Just open it” he says, starting the car. You’ve been so deep in your own thoughts, running through the possibilities of what’s in the bag, of what happened to his face, that you hadn’t even noticed him get into the car.

Noticing your hesitance, he reaches over and unzips the bag. “It won’t bite, honey” he promises, turning out of the parking lot and leaving you to take in the bundles of crinkled money packed into the bag. You carefully pick one out, fanning through it like a deck of cards. There’s more money here than you’ve ever seen. More than most people will ever see.

“Whose money is this?”

Mingyu shrugs, flicking on the radio, “Mmm, it’s ours.”

“You asked me to trust you now I need you to trust me. Just tell me what’s going on.”

Mingyu made a promise to himself when you first started dating that he’d keep the other side of him hidden. He loves the way that you see him. You see him as his most ideal self. As the man he wishes he could be all of the time and not who he has to become when you aren’t together. But you were bound to find out one day and if today has to be that day then so be it. “You know how I do drop offs for the mob?” You nod, your fingers still petting the edges of the money like one would a new puppy or a luxurious fur coat.

“I do pickups too. Retrivals I guess. If people owe money and they don’t pay up it’s my job to go get it even if it means I have to hurt them...” He trails off, fearful of your reaction, but you only listen attentively, free of judgment. “Earlier I had one of those pickups” he continues, “Things got kind of crazy. A lot of people got hurt.” He flexes his hand, wincing at the pain. “Including me but, you know, at least I’m alive. The other guy...anyway. I was supposed to take the money back but I didn’t. I kept it for us.”

You insantly regret ever pressing him for this information. Maybe ignorance truly is bliss and you've just given it up. “So you killed someone?” “I kinda had to.” “Right. You kinda had to kill someone and stole a bunch of mob money now we’re—we’re on the run aren’t we?” Mingyu nods, chewing on the inside of his lip, “We are.” “Oh, fun. I’m dead. We’re dead. They’re gonna chop our heads off.” “No one’s chopping your head off! They don’t even do that anymore. It’s more of a burning the whole body thing. Buried alive usually.”

“Not helping!”

“I’m sorry!”

Mingyu tosses the bag into the backseat, freeing your lap up for his hand to massage your thigh. Your legs are shaky, every part of you is, and no amount of massaging can stop it. “This is a lot. It’s so fucking much. I can’t even…” Leaning your head back against the headrest, you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths. “I never meant to put you in danger” he says softly, “We spend so many nights talking about the life we want. A better life. You deserve it and I just want to give you that so when I saw the opportunity I took it. If it means anything, I’d die before I let anyone hurt you. I’ll protect you with my life.”

You open your eyes to catch him staring at you, his attention only half on the road where it should be. He means every word he says, no matter how fucked up his methods are. A part of you can’t stand him for what he’s done and you can't stand yourself for how small that part of you is. In a matter of minutes he managed to destroy the life you knew. A life you’ve been longing to destroy yourself for far too long but never had the courage to. You can’t hate him for that. In fact, in some strange, twisted way you've never loved him more.

You look so peaceful when you’re sleeping. The two of you had plans to go out for dinner after you hopped out of the shower but hours of driving in no particular direction had exhausted you. The moment you sat down on the bed of the floral wallpapered motel room you were out like a light. Mingyu can’t bring himself to wake you up. You deserve the rest, he figures, after all he sprung onto you.

He has no real idea where you are. Your cellphones were tossed off a bridge two towns ago and every road sign in whatever nowhere town you stopped in is too faded too read. There’s no way anyone will find you here when you can’t even find yourselves. Even still, Mingyu finds himself pacing the floor in the darkness of the motel room, a handgun held tightly in his right hand. Paranoia weighing heavy on him, he wishes that he could fall asleep but every time he relaxes in the slightest another set of headlights beam through the curtains and he’s on his feet again.

What if someone followed you? What if they spotted his car? He truly would protect you with his life. But what if he failed? “Idiot” he huffs, hitting himself on the side of the head. “Hey, I’d appreciate you not hitting my boyfriend. Thank you very much” you yawn, stretching out, your eyes only cracked enough to make out his fuzzy silhouette. You snuggle up to his side of the bed, the blanket quite cozy against your bare skin for something that's for sure been here since the 90’s. You try not to think about it, your focus quickly shifting to the gun in Mingyu’s hand.

“When’d you get a...” you start but abandon your question. When’d he get a gun? That’s silly to ask. Of course he has a gun, probably a few. Why wouldn’t he? “Put that thing away and come to bed.” “You worry too much. I’m good. You rest.” Outstretching your arms, you pout and kick your feet knowing that he's a softie for your tantrums. “Five minutes. That’s it. Please” you whine and he’s already dragging himself over to the bed, reluctantly tucking his gun into the bedside table.

By now the haze of sleep has fallen away, offering you a clear view of the gorgeous man hovering above you. “Stop looking at me like that” he blushes, his fingertips dancing along your jaw. It sends sparks through your system, stealing your breath away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mingyu leans down to kiss you, his hand slipping beneath the blanket to ride the curves of your body. “You don’t?” he asks, nibbling at your bottom lip. He presses a thumb into the tender flesh of your thigh, feeling your body tremble the way you did in the car.

Only now it’s not because you’re scared. Fear is the furthest thing from your mind. It’s because you’re craving some relief, craving him, badly enough that the faintest brush of his thumb over your clit has you snatching him on top of you. Your tongue’s down his throat, legs thrown around his waist, hips raised to feel the bulge fighting to free itself from the confines of his jeans. Nothing gets Mingyu hotter than when you’re like this, clawing his clothes off as his fingers delight in the velvet warmth between the lips of your pussy. “Ming—” you gasp at how effortlessly his fingers glide into you. Your walls flutter in excitement as if to welcome him home and he couldn’t be happier to be back.

“You’re dripping, baby” he coos, pulling out just enough to glimpse your juices coating his fingers. You reach between you, finally feeling the heat of his cock in your palm, and stroke his length, collecting pearls of his arousal each time you run over the tip. “So are you” you tease, grinning at the way his hips stutter. With one arm holding himself up and the other busy between your legs, his muscles flex in a certain way that makes your mouth water. In your eyes his body’s a work of art and the feeling couldn’t be more mutual.

Your body’s so soft, so sensual, that he’s dying to be inside of you just to see the way your body jiggles each time he thrusts into you. Your muscles tighten, the ecstasy coursing through your veins making you feel lightheaded. “Make love to me” you say in the sweetest voice, not begging nor demanding, simply confessing how much you need him. Mingyu twitches in your hand, his heart skipping more than a few beats. Without a word, his hands are gripping your plush hips as he guides himself to your entrance.

He takes his time, rubbing the tip in the wetness escaping your core, bumping it against your clit to make you quiver. You rub his biceps, nails digging into his arms, giving him such a rush that he can’t tease you any longer. He delves into your core, feeding his length into you gradually until every inch of him fills you. “So beautiful” he whispers, kissing between your breasts as he strokes in and out of you. His tongue traces the contours of your breast, flicking at your nipple before his lips wrap around it. Nibbling, suckling, all while watching the faces you make when he hits that sensitive spot.

He’s throbbing inside of you, so tight against your walls that you swear you can feel the blood rushing through those pretty veins that run up his cock. It’s sweet of him starting out slow but you want more. You press down onto him, using the minimal space between your bodies to ride him, picking up the pace. Mingyu gets the hint, rising to his knees as he presses yours to your chest. “You said make love to you” he says, his hands tucked behind your knees, “If you wanted me to fuck you, you should’ve just said so.”

He kisses you ravenously, like he wants to consume you entirely, wasting no time pulling back to bounce you on his cock, his hips moving faster with each thrust. Mingyu palms the softest part of your stomach, caressing it as his other hand reaches up to cup your cheek. His thumb runs across your bottom lip, feeling your breath as you cry out his name. “Mingyu—ah—yes—fuck. Harder!” you scream and this time you are begging.

Never being a man to deny you what you want, he obeys. Harder, faster, impossibly deeper, until you feel him in every part of you. Holding onto his wrists, you surrender, letting yourself get lost in him. So lost that you’re caught off guard by the sudden explosion of the pressure that's been building inside of you. Your lids barely fall shut before they’re shooting back open, your body quivering as your orgasm barrels down on you. Mingyu’s hypnotized by the sight of you, addicted to the way you gush and clench around him.

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me. So pretty when you cum for me, aren’t you? So so pretty. Mmm—.” He wants to hold back, to at least try, but it’s no use. How can he hold back anything with you? It only takes one more pulse of your walls for him to come undone, barely able to maintain his thrusts as he spills into you. You’d feel this forever if you could. The warmth and the fullness. You’re so greedy for it, taking every drop until he’s collapsed beside you trying to come back down to earth.

Using the last bit of energy in your body, you lay your head on his chest, tossing the blanket over the two of you. “Tomorrow you’ll teach me how to shoot?” Mingyu wraps an arm around you, gently petting your hair. “You? With a gun? No way.” You nod, intimidated but confident in your decision, “We’re in this together now aren’t we? It’s not just about you protecting me. I wanna protect you too. So teach me.”

His instinct is to tell you no, that he can protect both of you on his own, but he knows it’s not fair. He’s the one who drug you into this, the least he can do is show you how to defend yourself.

“I’ll teach you. Tomorrow,” he relents, “But tonight it’s back to sleep, okay?”

"Only if you promise to stay here with me.”

“Always.”

Silence falls across the room and, as you drift back off to sleep, you know there’s so much more to that “always”. “Always” doesn’t just mean tonight or tomorrow. It’s more than next week or next year. It stretches far beyond whatever hell might lie before you. It means forever. It means that Mingyu would go to the ends of the earth for you. And there’s no way you won’t be by his side when he does.

#seventeen x you #seventeen x reader #seventeen au #seventeen angst #mingyu x reader #mingyu x you #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #mingyu smut #seventeen smut #chubby reader #plus size reader

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urfavlarry · 2 months

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Your Overlord! Husk is just so 🫠 So I HAD to request something for him!

Reader works at the Casino. She is Husk's favorite waitress (maybe because she is his gf idk 👀) and deals with rude costumers more often than she'd like. During one of those situations, they corner her for trying to "stick her nose in somebody else's business". Overlord! Husk deals with them before they have the chance to do anything. After the situation is taken care of, he steals her away to dote on her <3

This is the (slightly modified) piece of dialogue that inspired my request. Feel free to use it, if you want!

Reader, backing up: "Gentlemen, gentlemen. Let's be civil about this. Let's make a deal; you leave, and you don't die a second time. How does that sound?"

Sinner: "And how do you intend to kill us, dollface?"

Reader: "Oh, no, I can't kill you. But my boss can. Say hi, boss."

Overlord! Husk, appearing behind reader: "Hi."

I'm aware of how cringe this is, but I couldn't help myself ;;

oh my god this isn’t cringe at all!! i love this sm !! hope ive managed to write this how you wanted and that you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this<33

warnings: bad grammar, swearing, alcohol, mention of harassment, the sinners might be sexist? (if i forgot anything tell me in the comments)

•

Overlord!Husk x waitress reader

You’ve met Husk a few years ago after you have just fallen into the dark place called Hell. You stumbled upon the casino after you accepted that this was your life— well afterlife for the rest of eternity, and damn, eternity is a long time! So you decided to look for a job, a job you had when you were alive; a waitress.

Husk hired you after a week of you being “on trial” as he likes to call it and you were just fit for the job! You had the nerves of a saint since you used to deal with drunk people that drowned themselves in alcohol and decided to throw the tiny bit of dignity away and harass the workers who didn’t really sign up for being harassed. At your old job you were usually the one that calmed fights and disagreements down and people were really grateful for that. You could say you were like the mom of that last bar you worked at!

Today the casino was calmer the usual, just sinners chatting away and dancing on the dance floor or just having a drink after a long day of work. The day was slow yes, but at least you didn’t have shitty customers to worry about; you thought to yourself but then suddenly the bars doors slam open and in come 4 not so friendly looking fox demons. You hated those kinds of demons, they usually tried to steal and just make your afterlife a living hell— well if that’s even possible since you already are in hell.

You shoot your fellow employees a uncertain glance and walk over to the demons to ask if they decided on their drinks. They snickered as they ordered their drinks and whispered to themselves as you went to get the drinks they wanted. The bartender, Chris, was a fellow friend of yours and as he makes the drinks he says with a worried tone; “Hey Y/N I know you’re experienced and shit but please be careful, those guys used to come here often and they like to start fights and they really are not fun to deal with so just, keep your guard up, okay?” He looks at you with genuine worry as he hands the drinks to you and you pick them up with ease; “Don’t worry Chrissy i’ll be extra careful okay? I’ve dealt with assholes when I was alive you really don’t need to worry about me.” You say with a smile and shoot him a wink and walk over to the men that are now playing poker and are betting for a huge amount of money. You place the drinks down and go back to talk with Chris to pass the time.

Husk was in his usual spot in the VIP room of the casino, gambling with some sinners, having a bored look on his face as it was clear the sinner really had no experience. He looks away for a moment to glance to the other side of the casino to see you chatting with the bartender. He smiles for just a bit and looks back at the game. You were quite close since you had both a lot in common and were quite fond of each other. After about a year and a half of you working at the casino, Husk asked you out and you, of course accepted! You got together after that and you couldn’t have been happier. But the only one that knew about your secret relationship was Chris, since you trusted him with that kind of information. You and Husk got married after 2 years of being together and Chris could just tell you two loved each other, you were practically love sick idiots!

“And you know that bitch that took your place while you were sick? She was a total—” You get cut off by the sound of yelling and you turn your head to see what was happening. The fox demons were now yelling and fighting, screaming foul things at each other because the game was apparently “not fair”. You exchange looks with Chris and sigh, walking over to the angered men with a calm look on your face, straightening your uniform.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen! May I ask what is the cause of all of this commotion? You’re disturbing the others that are trying to have a good time.” You say with a calm tone trying to calm the situation and to not raise attention. “Go mind your fucking business bitch you probably put something in our drinks to make us focus less so that asshole can win!” One of them yells and the others nod along with angered looks on their faces. “Im sorry wh—” You get cut off yet again by the one of the angry men; “Just shut the fuck up your so clueless it’s embarrassing you probably don’t even know how to do your job properly” Another one of them says grabbing your wrist to pull you down to his height. Your nose scrunches in disgust since you can smell the alcohol from his mouth and you just pray you don’t throw up in his face. He starts to speak again, clearly still annoyed; “How about you fucking go do your job like a good little lady and bring us another drink.” The demon says with a smirk on his face and lets you go and whistles at you as you go to leave. You turn around and glare slightly at the man but take a deep breath and say; “Gentlemen calm yourselves please, let’s be civil about this, yes? How about you either leave this casino and never come back, or you can treat the employees with respect.” You say brushing off your uniform and look at them with a smile fake like the money they were betting on.

“Yea? Or else what?” One of them asks gaining some new found confidence and smirks at you looking you up and down, licking his lips as if you were some kind of prey. “You get to keep your little afterlife and don’t die a second time!” You say with a sarcastic tone and smile. They start to laugh as if you just said the most hilarious thing in the entire world and look at you like a little child who was born yesterday; “Aww and how does a little demon like you intend to do that?” They all snicker awaiting your answer that they were sure it was gonna be even more hilarious then the previous statement you made.

Husk who heard the commotion and has been watching the interaction from afar for almost 10 minutes was growing more and more annoyed by the second. How dare they speak to his wife like that? They think they can just waltz in here and fuck with his wife? Yeah no. He slowly starts to walk towards you and the men and you notice him out from the corner of your eye and smirk, knowing from the look on his face that he was pissed. Maybe even that was not that much of a strong word to describe the anger bubbling up in his body. You look at the demons in front of you and say; “Perhaps you would like to discuss that with my boss?” You say and step back from the demons who replace their smug expressions with confused glances.

“Is there a problem here gentlemen?” Husk asks raising a brow with a annoyed look on his face as the fox demons now look like they’ve pissed themselves. You smirk at the men flipping them off from behind, sticking your tongue out. Your boss from your old job never really bothered to stand up for his employees so it felt good to finally have assholes like them eat their own shit.

The demons scatter and leave money at the table at mumble apologies towards you and Husk and leave the casino without another word. The employees and some of the customers cheer and whistle and scream at the demons to never come back and you cheer a bit yourself, happy that someone finally stood up for you.

The atmosphere was finally back to its normal calm self and Husk looks at you with a bit of a angered look, not because of you, but because he was still pissed someone would just treat his wife like shit, but of course he looks at you with a hint of worry but he’s careful to not show it since he has a reputation to uphold. “Y/N, my office. Now.” He says as he slowly walks over to the back door for employees and you share a worried look with Chris, he looks at you confused and raises a brow at you. You just shrug your shoulders since you’re just as confused as him but you follow closely behind Husk as he wait for you at the employee door. You both walk to his office not far down the hall and he opens the door and lets you enter first. He enters right after you, closing the door behind him. He stays quiet for a bit ask he smokes his cigarette, looking out from the huge window he had in his office.

You stand there nervously and fiddle with your sleeves, hoping you weren’t in trouble, because you really don’t wanna deal with an angry Husk. He throws the cigarette butt out of the window and turns to look at you. He walks up to you cups your cheek in his hand and asks; “Are you okay my love? Did those fuckers hurt you?” He says with worry evident in his voice and you sigh; “No, no they didn’t do anything i’m fine Husker i’ve dealt with shit like this before..” You say looking away from him frowning slightly grabbing your slightly bruised wrist. “I don’t take shit like that to heart.” You say with a smirk.

He smiles softly at you and pulls you closer grabbing you by the waist; “I know Doll I just wanted to check on you, you know? Those guys really are pieces of shit and i’ve wanted to shut them up for a while now, but you did that pretty well yourself~” He says with a smirk and a teasing tone.

“Yeah, yeah I know i’m just the best.” You say with a playful tone and chuckle. “I’m glad you were worried about me tho. I guess the “heartless Overlord” really does have a soft spot for me~” You giggle teasing the cat demon, you knew very well he cared about you, and you were very grateful for that. Husk wraps his tail around your leg and look you up at Husk, shivering slightly from his touch, but you can’t help but admire his features up close. He smirks at the remark and pulls you closer so your bodies are practically touching and your faces are inches apart. He suddenly dips you, your lips barely apart as he grabs you firmly, careful so you don’t fall and and smiles, a genuine smile you have never seen before, a smile that Husk himself couldn’t believe he had used and says;

“Hm, well love, you might just happen to have a special spot in this dead heart of mine~”

He says and leans in closing the small gap between you two. Your breath hitches at the contact but you don’t hesitate to kiss back, a simple act that made your heart flutter even though you’ve done this a million times before. You smiled into the kiss and you started to wonder how you could have found such a great partner.

It was kind of funny, you really were a match made in hell.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel season 1 #hazbin husk #overlord husk #overlords #overlord #husk x reader #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel sir pentious #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin angel dust #loser baby #vivziepop #vivienne medrano #keith david #husker x you #x reader #reader insert #female reader

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raynehmms · 3 months

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

You wake up out of your sleep, just getting to bed after your long ass shift at Chili’s. “There’s no way” you roll your eyes as you answer your phone, your best friend’s name displaying. “I can tell you were rolling your eyes.” She squints her eyes at you, “Yeah cuz u were on a date what happened?” You laugh lightly your red silk bonnet eliminating in the light of your phone. She rolls her eyes at the question. “First of mind yours.” You laugh and sit up in your silk lined blanket falling off your body to your waist. “Ill mind mine when you actually get somewhere. How long have you been moping round bout a nigga that cheated on you?? I love you but this has to stop. Like immediately.” You stare into her eyes and watch as she looks down her eyebrows furrowed as tears threaten to prick her eyes. “And don’t you start crying again, go take a shower and go to bed I’ll call you tomorrow okay?” She sniffs a little “you right I’ll talk to you later byeee” you hang up the phone and put it on the charger falling back asleep. You wake up a little late, realizing that you rush to get up, having the opening shift after closing was hard as hell but you need the money so…who are you to complain? You take a quick shower and throw on a fresh uniform rushing out your house and damn near sprinting to your bus stop making sure not to miss the bus.

Couple hours later…

“Y’all niggas need to hurry up fo I leave y’all ass.” Ony says closing his car door. “You ain’t gon leave us.” Connie laughs. “Wanna bet?” Ony adjusts his hat and sunglasses as walks up to the Chilis , the rest of the group following behind. Adorning the same hat and glasses as he did. The bell jingles above the door as they walk in immediately getting bombarded with noise of families and waitresses rushing around the busy restaurant. “Hi how many people?” You say not looking up from the tablet In front of you already hearing the jingle. “Uhh 5 people, can we get a table away from people.” He lowers his head, his hat coving the view of his face. “”Weirdo”” you think, “well right now we are kind of busy so it’ll be hard for me to find a table away from people.” You look up at him and sigh, the tines from working to closing the previous night and opening this morning were hitting you like a truck. “We have a table it’s not clean right now but as soon as it is I’ll let you know. Can I get a name and number?” You look at him. “Uhhh well just go to table right now and you can clean it when we get over there.” You scoff, “that’s not my job sir, but whatever you like.” You shrug your shoulders and grab 5 menus and walk them to a dimly lit table in the corner of the restaurant. “I’ll be back give me a minute please.” You walk away as they sit down and ask the busser to clean the table and let the waiter know you sat a group in their section. You walk back up to the hostess booth, in the process walking past their table. “Aye can we get some water over here??” Connie yells a little. “Aye shit the fuck up, you the reason we got caught last time.” Jean rolls his eyes. You sigh and walk back over to them. “Sure by waiter will be with you shortly, anything else.” Annoyance lacing your tone. “Damn she fine asf.” Jean whispers just enough for you to hear making you roll your eyes. It also causes most of the group to look up at you. Ony’s eyes widened before settling back in the street outside. He speaks up. “Nah that's it, I wouldn't want to waste yo time.” You huff as you walk away walking to the waitress in that section, Aj. “Can you get table 14 some water so they can stop bothering me?” “You okay?” She asked, concerned. “Yea my head hurts a little, I’ll be ight almost time for me to go anyways.” You walk away and go back to the hostess area, sitting there doing nothing to your relief besides saying bye to the passing customers that are leaving the restaurant. After 2 hours or so you finally see the last group before you clock out and walk towards the hostess desk, Ony stopping before he walks out. “My bad for all the bs they be on. Can I get yo number? Maybe I can repay you or sum?” You laugh sarcastically. “Nah you good, have a nice night though.” You gesture towards the door not looking up, and clocking out via the tablet in front of you. And you walk away.

To clock out and grab your coat and bag from the locker, locking it after and walk out the staff entrance looking up at the bright sun as you slip your headphones into your ear and plug them into your phone playing the same playlist you’ve listened to since you were in middle school, and take out a pre roll you’ve had in your small ouch you keep in your bag for times of feeling down and drained like now. You walk to an abandoned park near your house and light your blunt while sitting on a bench away from the eye of people.

As you inhale you think of all the things that frustrated you that day, causing you to clench you unoccupied hand in anger, as you exhale you let it all go, realizing you have so much left of your day to be dwelling on stupid people with bland taste buds, you would know, you’ve tried the food at your job and to say there was no black people as cooks was obvious due to the unseasoned food they gave you. You put the blunt to your lips and continue smoking, not paying attention to the nature surrounding you, in your own world waiting for the bad memories to become numb to you, and the blissfulness to take over.

Word count: 1058

A/N- FIRST CHAPTER ngl I did take some inspiration from a Wattpad book I read a couple weeks ago cuz it was stuck in my head but nothing is completely direct (strike out by AMPj101 on wp)

#black reader #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon fluff #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #black yn #fanfic #spotify #aot x black reader #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot x female reader #aot x black y/n #aot x poc!reader

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cheynovak · 2 months

Text

Crush

Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N) & Sam Winchester (platonic)

Warnings: Fluff, Implied smut, body shaming, alcohol, trauma, nothing too extreme,

This story does not follow the SPN timeline.

Side note: English isn’t my first language. Words: 5166

Y/N is a high school crush/friend of Sam, when they were 16 y/o they attended the same school for a while. She was one of the only kids who didn’t made fun of him, they became friends pretty quick. Sam always thought Y/N was a nice, friendly and cute girl, a little bigger than most of the girls in school but cute. Sam spends his entire time hanging out with her, trying to ask her to prom, only one problem, Y/N likes another, older guy, he didn’t know the older guy was Dean.

Now years later the brothers path crosses again with Y/N.

Cursive are memories.

~ Part 2 out now! ~

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

Dean looked at the menu in front of him, waiting for Sam, hoping he had more news over the case they were working on. Vampires, only this time the nest seemed big, they had killed a few they found, but somehow more and more people seemed missing. It looked like every time they took one down another one popped up.

“Dean? Dean Winchester?” The older brother heard his name and looked up, to see the waitress. “Yes... that’s me?” He answered reluctantly. “It’s me... Y/N. A high school friend of Sam.” He took a good look this time. - “Y/N?” Sam had just entered the diner. “It’s been so long! How are you!” He asked her while immediately pulling her in a hug. “I’m great! Too long I know. How are you?”

Dean witnessed the conversation, still not entirely sure who she was. He started to think about all the high schools they attended to. Sure he would have remembered it when Sam had a girl friend... definitely a girl this... hot. Unless he didn’t attend school anymore. And then he remembered.

“Thanks Dean, for driving us!” - “No problem sweetheart.” He winked at Y/N while she got out of the car. “Sam, wait a sec I need to talk to you.” He held his brother back. “Can’t this wait after school? I’m going to ask Y/N to the dance.” “Yeah, about the dance...” he mumbled under his breath. “Hey, Y/N wait up!” Sam rushed out of Dean’s car, he watched his little brother jog to the slightly chubby but cute girl, knowing he won’t be taking her to the dance.

Dean remembered, making him unconsciously interrupt their conversation, without filtering his words first. “Now I remember... Y/N the chubby friend from when you were 17!” - “What the hell Dean! ” Sam hit his shoulder, while he looked apologetic over to Y/N, who seem to be amused by Dean’s bluntness. “Yeah, well that’s what most people remember of me.”

“I’m sorry, you look great! You’ve changed... A lot!” Dean apologised in a yet flirty way, looking her up and down. “And you haven’t changed, have you.” Y/N laughed at his attempt. “Please tell me you’re staying in town a little longer this time?” She turned to Sam. “Eh, a few days at least.” - “Great...” she kept looking at him, “Jeez, almost forgot to take your order.” They talked a little more after they had their food and in between orders.

“Hey if you want, we can stay a little longer after the job is finished.” Dean told his brother. “Maybe you and Y/N over there can catch up some lost time.” - “I don’t know Dean, she seems to have a great life I don’t want her to be involved in ours.” - “Did you ever go out with her?” - “No, she eh, liked someone else.” - “Really who?” - “Don’t know, an older guy, didn’t attend our school.” - “ Oh really? I seem to remember she liked you.” Dean felt bad for his brother.

“You’re lucky again, Y/N.” Her co-worker said while they were making their orders. “What do you mean?” - “You always get the handsome or cute boys at your tables.” She nodded to Sam and Dean. “Old friend of yours?” - “I went to school with that one...” she pointed at Sam. “And that is his older brother. He, eh was the first guy I ever kissed.” - “Lucky you.” Y/N her mind drifted away to an old memory.

School dance was in two weeks, but Y/N still had no dress. All the dresses she tried on were either, too long, short or small. The popular girls who bullied Y/N for being overweight seemed to notice Y/N struggling in the store and decided to ad a little salt to the wound.

Dean dropped Sam off at the library a few streets away, he had to run an errands for his dad and decided to buy some magazines at the store for himself, the store he needed was across from the store Y/N was in. He noticed her, standing in front of a mirror, she looked good, but he noticed her cheeks were red, she was almost crying. Then he heard the 3 popular girls walk out “Can’t believe little piggy thinks she will find a dress that will look good on her.” - “No way she finds a guy to take her.” Another one added.

Dean felt bad for her since she was the only kid in Sam’s class who was nice to him, he walked in the store, the second she saw the older Winchester enter the store she fled to the fitting room. “Y/N? Are you ok?” He placed his ear next to the door, he could hear her sniff. “Yeah, yeah I'm great thanks.” - “Don’t lie to me sweetheart... Is it those girls?” - “They just make fun of me. Nothing special. I’m used to it.” - “It is if it makes you cry.” She didn’t answer. “Why don’t you show me your dress?” Y/N slowly unlocked the door, looking up with teary eyes, Dean still leaning on the fitting room. “They are right, I look ridiculous, I won’t find a dress that fits me.”

“What are you talking about? You look amazing.” He smiled slightly. “You just say that to make me feel good.” She felt her cheeks glow, afraid to look up. “No, no, no you look stunning in this dress.”, “This one maybe, the others are horrible.” - “Then buy this one.” - “Can’t, too expensive.” Dean’s heart broke. Y/N got back in the dressing room, changed and hung the dress back. “Hey, why don’t we go get some burgers?” Y/N was surprised. “You want to hang out with me?”

Dean never really wanted to hang out with Sam and her, he always felt too cool she thought, he always dated the ‘hot girls’ she knew he was a player from what Sam told her, but him being nice to her made her feel good. “Hey eh, why don’t you go in and order already. I have to buy some things for my dad, I’ll be right with you.” - “Sure... You know what you want?” - “I’ll take what you‘ll have.”

Y/N watched Dean drive off, only to see that the girls from before were at the same diner. Great, she thought. “Keep your head up Y/N, you can do this.” Little did she know Dean went back to the store to buy that dress she liked. He walked into the diner to see the girls standing around Y/N’s table. “ How much do you eat Y/N, no surprise no dress fits you.” - “It’s for not for me, it’s for Dean.” - “Did you really think a boy would want to be seen with you?” - “Yeah, especially Sam’s hot brother.” the 2nd girl added. Dean felt the anger boil inside him.

“There you are sweetheart.” Dean said a little louder than needed, he walked past the three teenage bullies. “Sorry, it was busy at the store.” He took the place beside her, pulled his arm around her, while his other hand holds her cheek. “Let me make it up to you.” Without warning he kissed Y/N’s lips. Leaving the other girls stunned. Then he turned to them “Friends of yours?” - “Not really” she said bold, that kiss and his arm made her confident. Dean waved them goodbye, while keeping his arm around her almost for the entire time.

Y/N her memory faded when she noticed Dean walking up to her. “Can I get the check?” He asked. “Sure” She smiled. “You know, I never got to thank you.” - Dean smiled confused, changing the subject “... hey, we are eh, staying in town a little longer. Why don’t you give us a call on your day off.” he wrote his number on a napkin and shoved it forward. “Well, I don’t know.” Dean still looked confused. “Are you planning on kissing me and then leaving me again, Winchester?” she flirted, leaving Dean startled.

“Ready?” Sam asked dropping a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Eh, yeah, I-I'm ready.” By the time Dean got to the Impala he remembered every detail. He had kissed her to shut those mean girls up, he and Y/N stayed at the diner talked, laughed, way longer than he was planning, he just felt bad for her but the longer he talked to her the more he actually cared for her, by the end Dean realised why Sam likes her so much, she was really smart, funny and mature. She made him smile like no one had done in years.

He dropped her off at her house, but not before he kissed her again in the impala, “I, eh heard you have no date to the school dance yet.” He asked nervous. “No, I don’t.” Y/N’s heart was racing and her head spinning, is he really asking her what she thought? “Well, I-If you would like, I have no plans that night...” He looked up at her, she responded by pulling him in for another kiss.

He opened her door for her, pinned her against the car and asked her not to tell Sam yet. “I want to tell him myself.”

“Dean?” - ” Hm?” - “Why so quiet?” Sam asked in the car. “What? Oh nothing, nothing.”

The next day Sam and Dean split up again, Dean wanted to surprise Y/N after work now he fully remembered. But he saw Y/N and Sam walk out of the diner, holding a milkshake, she had her arm wrapped around Sam’s arm. They were laughing, too involved in their conversation to notice Dean at the corner of the street. He could see the two of them being the perfect item since they were so similar, he for some reason even forgot about her. He decided not to drag himself down and went for a drink at the local pub.

“You know, you never told me who the guy was who took you to the dance.” Sam casually asked Y/N while taking a seat at the bench in the park. “Wow, he never told you did he?” Sam looked confused. “Dean... He asked me.” - “Dean... my brother Dean?” - “Yeah... Please don’t tell me you’re going to mad at him? It was ages ago.” - “No, oh no not at all, it just makes sense.” Sam laughs sincere. “Why are you laughing?” - “He acted all weird yesterday morning, after seeing you and I can remember he spend all dad’s money, later he admitted it was on a dress for a girl, didn’t want to tell us who. And before leaving he snuck out.“ - “He brought that dress to our front door, with a note, telling you guys were leaving.”

The night of the school dance Y/N got nervous, she still had no dress but Dean told her not to worry. “Y/N!” - She heard her dad call out to her “Come down here honey.” The second she got the end of the stairs she saw her dad holding a bag, a black clothing cover. “I think this is for you.” He helped her open it. Y/N recognised the dress immediately. A little note dropped out of the bag. “I’m sorry sweetheart, our dad decided to move today. I wished I could see you in this dress, no doubt you will be the most beautiful girl. D.”

“Did you go?” - “Sorry?” - “Did you go?” Sam repeated the question. “No, I didn’t. I wanted but it wouldn’t be the same without my best friend.” She said bumping her shoulder to his arm. “You know, I really felt bad when you said you liked someone else.” He admitted looking shy at her. “But I’m glad it was Dean. He is a nice guy.” - “Ha, not what you said years ago.” - “Yeah, well in my defence he did get all the girls, even the once I liked back then.” He bumped her back. “I think he still likes you.” Sam casually said. “What? Oh, come on Sam. It was years ago, he didn’t even recognise me at the diner yesterday.” - “I’m serious Y/N he acts strange, his I like a girl but I'm afraid to say it, strange, call him.” - “You don’t mind?” She asked afraid of his answer. “No, not at all, to be fair, Jess is still in my heart and mind.”

Sam and Y/N walked back to the diner where she parked her car. “Oh my god... He still drives that impala?” She asked while crossing the street to see the car up close. “Dean’s baby.” - “Great memories.” She said looking inside the car. “Oh please don’t tell me... you two...” Sam looked disgusted. “What?” Then it hit her “Oh god, no Sam! Dean and I, we never did, never...” Sam looked relieved, he looked around “He is probably in that pub over there.” He pointed out. “It’s now or never Y/N.” He smiled like a child who had a secret. “Fine, I’ll talk to him.”

Y/N walked in, a little nervous, if Dean really hasn’t changed, he had found himself a hot girl by now. To her surprise he was sitting alone at the bar, drinking a beer while watching the game on the small tv above the bar.

“Hi stranger.” She smiled while taking the seat next to him. “Mind me sitting here?” Y/N asked when she saw his surprised face. “Yes, I mean no, no please sit.” - “I eh, I saw your car outside thought I’d say hello... Sam and I were at the park, reminiscing about high school. Would have been great if you were there” - “I saw you two when I walked to the diner, didn’t want to interfere your date.” - “Date?! Oh no Sam and I weren’t on a date.” -” Well, I think you two should.” Dean answered looking back at his beer. “Considering your history and both being really similar personalities and all.”

“I’m afraid a little too similar.” Dean looked up. “Don’t get me wrong, Sam still an amazing person... I like him, but I might still like his older brother a bit more.” Y/N was afraid to look directly in Dean’s eyes when she confessed that. “Even when he didn’t take you to the dance like he promised?” - “Even when he didn’t recognise me.” Dean felt his cheeks burn, “You have changed a lot.”

“It’s ok, deep down I knew it wasn’t the same for you like it was for me.” Y/N said without feeling any grudges. “At the beginning maybe, but after that day at the diner, after that first kiss...” Dean felt bold admitting this. “Please don’t tell me that you fell for the chubby girl?” - “I did.” - “You never do.” - “Oh I did, I fell hard, I used my dad’s money to buy you that dress! He was pissed!”

“Sam told me, you didn’t have to get into trouble for me.” - “at least you were the prettiest girl at that dance.” - “I didn’t go.” - “What!” Dean dropped his beer back at the bar. “My date and best friend were abducted by their father, I didn’t want to be alone.” She joked but was serious about the alone part.

After a few beers Y/N and Dean found themselves still at the bar. Laughing, joking and even flirting.

“As much as I don’t want this night to end, I have to go. I have an early shift tomorrow.” They both stepped out realizing it was late, the sun had gone down. “Let me drive you.” - “Don’t you think you had a little too much to drink?” - “Bullshit, I can drive get in.” He said while holding her door. Y/N got in and immediately recognized the same smell as all those years ago.

While driving Dean remembered their last night together.

Dean had asked Y/N to go to the movies with him; to his surprise she accepted. During the movie he couldn’t keep his eyes on the screen. He kept looking over at Y/N wondering how to tell Sam he fell for his best friend, for his crush. He felt guilty but couldn’t keep sneaking around with her. “Sam asked me to the dance Yesterday.” She whispered without looking at him. "What did you say?” Dean asked, shifting in his seat, feeling a little nervous. “That I liked someone else.” He could see her cheeks blushing. While his heart made a jump.

“Oh really?” - “Uhu, he is handsome, a little older, a real prince charming, I didn’t tell all that to Sam, obviously.” - “Well, tell me who is this prince I need to fight?” he joked while playfull attack her, kissing and licking her neck, which made her giggle. His lips found hers, the kiss deepened “Let’s get out of here.”

When they walked out of the theatre, holding hands, he saw his dad outside. He pulled her back hushing her with his hand on her mouth. “He has no idea I’m here.” he whispered in her ear. When he was out of side they ran to the car, and Dean drove them to an open spot next to the football pitch at their school. He pulled her closer to him, immediately kissing her again, seemingly not getting enough of Y/N.

His hand moved under shirt, over her stomach, making her clench up and pulling back.

Dean let go of her “Did I do something wrong?” - “I’m just not really comfortable in my skin.” She admitted shy. “Oh, I'm sorry sweetheart” - “it’s ok, I-I just never. No guy ever touched me like that. Probably because of my... size.” - “Don’t be ridiculous, you look amazing. I don’t get it why no guy ever took a change to be with you before.”

But Dean held back the rest of the night, making her comfortable again. Keeping it to kissing and touching above the clothes. He didn’t want to push her away, thinking she deserved to know not all man are the same.

The drive home was quiet and filled with tension. Seeing Dean driving his car made Y/N feeling warm and safe again. He looked the same but at the same time different, broken. He looked at her, noticed her staring. “Like what you’re seeing sweetheart?” She blushed, looking at her hands that were folded on her lap. “Sorry.” - “Don’t be, I like it, reminds me of the good old days.” he jokes.

“Here we are.” Dean said trying to sound neutral, but his heart beats fast. “Why don’t you come inside for a second, I have something to show you.” Y/N said very enthusiasts. Dean followed her up to her apartment giving himself a peptalk, thinking this may be the moment. “Wait here.” Y/N’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

He looked around, no pictures or signs of a man. “Great!” he mumbled. “What was that?” she asked? Dean flinched “Nothing!” He turned around to see Y/N in the dress he bought for her.

“Wow” Was all he managed to say. “It’s a little big, I know but I kept it.” She said while looking down at herself, not noticing Dean getting closer, “The first boy I ever loved gave it to me.” She looked up, meeting Dean’s eyes. Feeling the air shifting. “I never thanked you for the dress, did I?” Dean’s eyes flicked from her lips back to her eyes. “No, not really.” his lip pulled up in a half smile.

“Hm. In that case.” Y/N’s hands moved over his shoulder, neck, to the back of his head, feeling his hair move between her fingers. Pulling him closer. “Thank you.” she whispered against his lips before closing the space with hers. Dean still tasted the same as she remembered, his full lips felt even better than before. Dean’s hands moved up to hold her ribs, pulling her closer to him but letting go of her lips. “Remind me to buy you more dresses.” she smiled before he finds her lips again.

After a long passioned kiss Y/N spoke again, “I’m going to put on something more, comfy, mind helping me with the zipper?” She asked while turning her back to Dean. Knowing very well what she was doing. Dean moved her hair to one side of her shoulders, kissing the one that was showing, while unzipping her dress, letting it fall on to the floor. His hands roaming over her body, Y/N’s head fell back, letting out a deep breath, while he moved over to that one spot behind her ear.

“Still as beautiful as I remember.” He whispered in her ear while he held on to her hips. Y/N turned around finding his lips again, walking him back to find the couch. Dean sat down slowly, while Y/N took a seat on his lap, straddling him. Dean’s hands holding her hips, his finger brushing over her ass, it was the first time she paid no attention to her own body, she usually was very well aware of the stretchmarks she had from being fuller, but for some reason Dean made her forget all of that.

Their kisses deepen, hips grinding, breaths getting heavier, hands roaming each other's body, hungry for more... Until they were interrupted by the sound of Dean’s phone. Dean searched for his phone, “It’s Sam. He can wait.” Dean said tossing the phone on the other side of the couch, only to pull her back in for more, but his phone rang again. “D-Dean, maybe you need to pick up.” Y/N said between kisses.

Dean sighs picking up the phone, “Sammy?” - “Dean? I found the nest, where are you, I need back up.” - “I eh, I am... I’m on my way.” He said, while looking apologetic to Y/N. - “Brother in need?” she asked still sitting on his lap. “I’m sorry, I really need to go.” He kissed her, holding her face in his hands. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.” he said looking deep in her eyes, just to be sure she knew he meant it. She nodded.

"I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/N kissed Dean and closed the door behind him, slightly hating Sam for ruing the moment, but over the moon, feeling the same butterflies as she felt all those years ago. Y/N got ready for bed, Dean promised to have breakfast at the diner tomorrow and to pick her up after her shift, so there was no reason not to get in her pj’s.

But by the time she got to the bathroom she heard a knock on the door. Smiling she yelled “Forgot something, Dean?” Only to open the door seeing no-one. She stepped outside to feel a presents behind her...

Dean pulled over at the motel he and Sam stayed, so he could pick up his brother, before taking down the vamps nest. “Really Sam, fighting a nest in the middle of the night, smooth timing!” - “I thought the fast we take them out the quicker we can move on.” the younger brother looked at his sibling putting the weapons and the machetes in the car. “Unless you have a reason to stay.” Dean gave his brother a dead stare before closing the trunk.

“Did you talk to Y/N yet?” Sam was curious. “Well, since you ask so nicely. We were in the middle of a... conversation, when you called.” he emphasised but keeping his eyes on the road. “That escalated quick.” Sam smirked. “I really think you should give her the benefit of the doubt and think, maybe, just maybe she is your ticket out of this life.” - “And leave you alone? No way.”

“Think about it Dean, we liked living here. This town, the people we were mad at dad for leaving, again.” - “You were always mad at dad, you left for college.” - “Y/N’s idea.” - “Really?” Dean looked over to his brother this time. “Y/N told you to go study law?” - “No, she told me that we were more than our dad wanted us to be. That we could do what we wanted. Bet she didn’t want you to be in dad’s footsteps.”

The rest of the ride the brothers were quiet. Sam’s words lingered in Dean’s head. Maybe there was a way to be with Y/N. He could tell her everything, no there was no way he would let her in to this life.

The Winchesters arrived at the old warehouse where the nest was. When they entered, they immediately saw Y/N tight up to a chair at the back, unconscious. “Good for you to show up, I figured since you two killed my girl, I might just take yours.” One of the vamps spoke. “It’s remarkable how the smell of humas linger on our dead. So easy to track them down. And like today we were very lucky to find us a little surprise.” - “Let her go you son of a bitch!” Dean growled.

Y/N heard Sam’s voice in a distance. “Y/N? Y/N wake up.” She slowly opened her eyes. “S-Sam? What happened. W-where am I?” She looked around, the haze in front of her eyes disappeared, she saw Dean chopping of the head of the last vampire, making her scream. “Hey, hey sweetheart, you’re ok.” He came running towards her. Y/N was too afraid to react, trying to wrap her head around the things that happened. Only moments before she lost consciousness again.

Dean carried Y/N to the car, the vampire drank so much blood she felt too weak even to stand on her legs.

The drive home was filled with awkward silence, Sam kept looking back at her trying to see how she was doing, but Y/N kept looking outside the window, trying to hold back the tears. Dean parked outside the motel they were staying, while Sam tried to help her out of the car. “What are we doing here? I thought you would bring me home?” Dean could hear the fear in her voice.

“Home isn’t safe now sweetheart.” - “And this motel is?” - “It’s just for the night, tomorrow we check out your place and if it’s safe we can take you home.” Sam answered in his sweet voice.

Sam supported her while they walked inside, her eyes roaming the place. “If there is anything we can...” - “I would like to take a bath.” She interrupted Dean, still not giving him a look. Y/N grabbed Sam’s arm again, “Can you give me a hand?” Sam looked over at his brother, hesitated before he answered “Eh, yeah sure.”

Sam filled the tub before helping her with her clothes, in any other situation Y/N would have felt embarrassed but after tonight she didn’t care anymore. Sam held her arm when she stepped in the bath. She could feel the warm water touching her skin, stinging at the small bite marks that covered her body. “Are you going to be ok?” Sam asked before leaving her alone for a minute. “I’m fine Sam, thank you.” Sam left de door slightly open, Dean still stood in the middle of the room, he looked at her while his brother walked toward him, seeing her back all bruised.

Y/N heard the brothers talk, “Why won’t she talk to me Sammy?” She could hear the pain in Dean’s voice. ” One, she just got ambushed by vampires. And two she saw you chop off someone’s head.” Sam took a deep breath. “She is probably traumatised, look at all the bite marks and bruises on her, they drained her, to the point of fainting. Give her some time.” He whispered knowing Dean meant well. “I’m going to get some painkillers and bandages for her.” He padded his brother’s shoulder. “Be right back.”

Dean leaned against the bathroom door. “Y/N?... May I come in?” He waited for an answer, but she didn’t respond. Dean slowly walked in kneeling next to her. He slowly lifted his hand to caress her hair. At first, she flinched but the second she truly felt his soft touch, she couldn’t hold back her tears. Dean shifted on to the side of the tub, her head fell against his thigh. He held her hand and stroke her hair with the other, while he whispered to her over and over reassuring words “Shh, you’re going to be ok, I’m here.”

By the time Sam got back he heard Dean and Y/N talk in the bathroom. As he walked over to take a peek, he saw Y/N in one of Dean’s old shirts while he towel dried her hair, or at least he was trying to. She was asking him questions about what happened, and he answered them honestly. Dean walked Y/N out of the bathroom towards his bed. “You need some sleep, take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” he said while tucking her in. “Are you sure?” her voice was still very shaky. He kissed her head in response.

Later that night Y/N woke up from a bad dream or was it a memory. She looked around the room to find something to recognise, seeing Dean sleeping on the couch he looked so peaceful yet in a very uncomfortable position. “Dean? Dean?” She whispered, by the third time he woke up. “Dean?” He woke up startled rushing over to her. What’s wrong?”

Y/N opened the blankets, gesturing him to lay down next to her, doubtfully he crawled into bed next to her. For a second, they were looking into each other’s eyes. If the circumstanced where different he would have kissed her now. But instead, she pulled herself closer to him, her face was snugged against his shirt, she could hear his steady heartbeat. Dean’s chin touching her hair, he tugged an arm around her pulling her close. She let go of a sigh “I had a bad dream.” She confessed. “I’m here, try to get some sleep.” he kissed her head.

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

#fanfic #fluff #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #sam and dean #sam winchester #fanfiction #spn fanart #spnedit #spnfandom #the winchester brothers #john winchester #winchester #x y/n #y/n #x reader

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chuuyasfanboy · 5 months

Text

Just had some random thoughts so pulled up an old blog I never used and am now deciding to write fics! I've had this stuck in my head for two days now but like- Skk as parents... enjoy <3

Wrote three sections! One with Chuuya, one with Dazai, and ofc them together. It can be read from either adopted or blood perspective, I hope? Kind of scattered, I was just goin for it guys

Iffff you liked this, please req something! I'm having major bsd brainrot and I need ideas...

Soukoku as Parents Platonic x Gn!Child!Reader

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└──────┘

The SILLIEST father EVER guys.

For actual years he was fully under the impression he HATED all kids with a passion. I mean guys look at how badly he treated Aku-

Well then he had you and things changed

It's just something about you being his kid, not a subordinate or random kid on the street

He's your dedicated apologist

In fact, he encourages your mischief!

When you were younger, it was a lot harder to handle you. He even found himself on his last fuse sometimes. Usually, he left Atsushi or Yosano to deal with you

He didn't want to revert to old habits and accidentally traumatize you :(

When he can handle himself, though, he's only halfway controlling you-

He's right along with you in the heinous activities half of the time

Hiding Ranpo's candy (for as long as it lasts), misplacing Kunikida's glasses, hell you two have probably snuck into the infirmary and changed the sheets to something very colorful and very childishly wolf themed...

He's not really a mature dad, nonono. But he's doing his best

He fully supports all of your wildest interests, even tries out some of the more entertaining ones

He struggles to act excited when you're younger and all your interests are very out of his range, but as you grow older he's actually a bit intrigued by them sometimes

Best birthday gift ideas, too. He's very creative when he wants to be.

He also has way more money than he should be ALLOWED to have

For your Sweet Sixteen, he most definitely got you an obsessively large custom pinata of your favorite character...

He makes sure EVERYBODY gets you gifts, because you are his world and thus you must be everybody else's as well

He really does try to keep you out of work, and especially away from his suicide biz

Maybe HE doesnt have a reason to live, but he certainly doesnt want you picking up those thoughts, because he knows you have a real big destiny to live up to someday

I mean, what would the world be without you?

When you hit the age of 13 though, its really hard to hide anything from you

You're so scary when you grow up! And you're way too smart!!4

Did you get that from him? oops...

Now, he doesnt have any plans of living that long, but if you do grow big and strong and smart one day, and you join the ADA, he's definitely got some favoritism.

Surprisingly, Fukuzawa actually gives you your first few proper missions with him

(Because he knows Dazai will not be letting any harm come to you, he trusts Dazai with his life and he knows you trust Dazai even more)

If you have different plans for adulthood though, he's still so supportive

If you go to uni, you're going to have to show him off

Why?

Because, guys, he's a dilf

Nobody's gonna be mean to the kid with a dilf father, they all want him

He jokes about it constantly

But rest assured, stupid and immature uni kids are NOT his type, no matter how nice the ones his age look

He's got his eyes set on that waitress and at least four other men at the moment

If you go straight into the workplace instead of uni, he's going to use his connections to get you a good job early!

Fukuzawa has a good way with words and Dazai himself is a pretty good reference contact

Just tell them he's your teacher, or something

It's not like they'll know his hobbies, he's wayyyy too big a mystery for that

Overall: 7/10 dad

A little rough around the edges, but he's trying hard to improve himself for you

And he's trying hard to give you the best life he can offer

┌──────┐

└──────┘

Did I say Dazai was a dilf?

I lied out of my ass.

Chuuya is the real dilf here

But we'll get to that later! (Just know he has plenty of men and women at his feet and they're definitely being way too nice to you because they want him so bad guys)

You're SO SO SO SO spoiled.

UNREASONABLY so

So bad you might even be a little bit of a brat growing up

It's fine, not toward him, he almost never says no to you so theres no need

There's absolutely no amount of money that can't be spent on you.

Luxury clothes, professionally cooked dinners, fancy rooms, home staff, the whole works

Despite all that though, he's insistent you go to a public/private school

He's not tutoring you, wont even hire one

It's not because he CAN'T, it's because he KNOWS how important it is for you to get your sense of independence early

Sure, you'll always have financial support, even if he dies (Trust fund babyyyyy)

But thats not what's actually important to your future

You need social skills, you need friends, you need and education and the taste of disappointment

Dont worry, though, he's not sending you unprepared

You're not eating school lunches unless you want to (but fuck why would you?)

He's sending you to school with top notch food every day

And clothes

And supplies

Plus, you'll have a tutor at the ready for anything you need a little extra help in

But for the most part he keeps as far as he can out of that section of your life

You friends are yours, not his

He's polite when they have sleepovers, and he's more than willing to host parties and hangouts

But he doesn't try too hard to impress them, and he doesn't talk to them unless its related to you

Because as much as he loves being around kids (a real big father he wants to adopt everybody he sees)

He doesn't want to impose on any boundaries YOU may have

As a side note though, he's still very observant of your relationships with them

If he overhears any manipulation, or shit talking (about you or not), he's not going to let it sit and exist

If it comes to it, he will contact the parents (And holy fuck they are TERRIFIED i mean imagine a publicly known MAFIA EXECUTIVE contacting you to tell your kid fucked with his ABSOLUTELY NOT GUYS)

If you're into any extracurriculars, he is ALWAYS there

Even if he's overseas on a mission, he has some lower rank attend and clears his schedule so he can watch through a call

Also guys, he practically funds your school?

Your teachers are terrified to cross you because if they do there will be NO SALARY

You complain about anything that happened? He's fixing it up in any way he can

You are his ANGEL, NOTHING will ruin your day as long as he can prevent it.

When you grow up, your options are very clear in his eyes

Either you go to uni and live independent of the mafia, or you inherit his spot when he dies

If you go for neither, he may be a bit shocked, but he'll hesitantly step back

He'll see how it goes, but he's not very confident at first

If it goes well? Fuck, great! He's always in your corner rooting for you

If it doesn't go so well, you always have him as a backup

He'll always be there to take you back with open arms and give you a second, third, fourth, fifth, etc chance. Always

If you do join the mafia, there will be no low rank experience for you

You're straight to the upper ranks. At first, you'll probably be in a position similar to Akutagawa under Dazai or how he was under Koyo

Direct subordinate, his apprentice, his prodigy

And when he dies, you're next in line for his exec spot

There's not even a worry about your skillset, he knows he's trained you well, ability or no ability.

Finally, back to the dilf topic I've mentioned at the beginning

If you go to uni, he has the same problem Dazai had, but WORSE

Fuck guys, he swears he tries to keep out of your friendships, but suddenly everyone's adults and they wont leave him alone.

It's at this point he stops hosting your events (except birthdays) and separates himself

No way is he getting involved with crazy college kids, no way

Overall: 9/10 father

He's a bit absent in your social circle, but he's your dad and thats that

He screams support from the stands and that's really the best you can ask for in a dad <3

┌──────┐

└──────┘

theyre so pathetic together-

theyre all the entertainment you need growing up

constant bickering (lovingly)

they dont involve you in all that

it comes with them both being in seperate factions, but they BOTH work very hard to keep you out of the professional lives

you're their kid, they dont want you in any of the doublesided danger that could get you in

you're probably a secret to everyone except the ADA and the other mafia

And your existence is on a need-to-know basis for everybody else

Dazai is the more present figure in your life, simply because Chuuya has to be a bit more distant

It's the nature of his line of work, anyone he's seen with is a target, and he doesn't want that to be you

He will be at your schooling events still, though. He will be YELLING AND SHOUTING in the stands

Into sports? Every time theres an unfair play he will cuss the living daylights out of the ref

And they just have to let him because theres nothing they can really do about

Dazais the same way, but with less scare factor and way less vigor

After games, he's going to complain WITH you about how lame the whole thing was if you lost, how everything was judged unfairly

They may not get along the best together, but they love each other and especially love you, so they're improving for you

Read: Chuuya is making them improve for you

Dazai thinks hes the victim in all this!

But oh well, if Chuuya makes him apologize when they argue in front of you, he will

When you're all grown up, they both encourage you to find your own path

You've got the chance, thanks to them, and they dont want you involved in their little wars

It's not like you can join any sides, because who would want to be against your dad :(

So really your only choice is moving out, maybe even away-

If you really do want into their business, they both insist you join the ADA

It's safer there for you, and Chuuya would rather have to order his men to not under any circumstances EVER hurt you, than have to watch someone he can't control put you in danger

Plus, he knows Dazai will keep you in the safest position possible

Overall: 7/10 together

They're a nightmare at dinner, and Dazai is sleeping on the couch almost every night

But they adore you and every move you make, so there's no way you're feeling unloved at all

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rollinouttahere-writes · 1 year

Text

Lucky Break Prologue

Yandere Straw Hats x fem!Reader

5k words

I finally got this done, boy did it take longer than I had planned. I’ve worked hard on this and will continue to, so I hope everyone who takes the time to read this enjoys it! This fic is for the most part going to feature platonic yanderes, and the reader insert does use she/her pronouns.

There isn’t much One Piece stuff in this chapter, but there will be in the next.

When you’re a kid, everything seems so simple. You look around at the world around you and assume you know exactly how your life is going to go. After you finish high school, you’ll go to college and study for a major of your choosing. Immediately upon graduation, you’ll get a job in your desired field, and have a prosperous career to be proud of. Somewhere along the way, you’ll get married, maybe have some kids, and eventually enjoy a comfortable retirement where you will look back on your life with nothing but pride!

Yeah right. What a joke.

If provided with the opportunity to go back in time, you would kick your child-self’s ass for her naivety and optimism. How dare she foolishly get her own hopes up for a good and easy life.

Okay, so maybe you’re a little bitter, but who could blame you? Who isn’t disappointed with how at least one aspect of their life is going? It’s perfectly normal. Though, admittedly, for you it was wayyyy more than one aspect.

For starters, your job sucked. Not an uncommon complaint, but one that wore you down dramatically. Being a waitress was hell, but what could you do? You need money to live just like anyone else. Not that you were making much, not if the late fees were anything to go off.

You couldn’t get a better job because the more desirable jobs were all long since taken. Well, what few jobs you could apply for given the lack of a college degree. Oh yeah, you’re a college drop out. Much to the intense disappointment of your parents. They kicked you out when you told them and have hardly spoken to you since.

Seriously though, what did they want you to do? Keep going to school in hopes that you’ll magically figure out what you want to and go into horrible debt in the meantime? It’s easy to tell someone to keep going to college when you're not the one paying for it. You don’t understand how you’re the bad guy for not wanting to take your student loans to the grave.

It didn’t help that the friends you had have all slowly fallen out of contact with you since you moved away. You thought that maybe starting new somewhere else would be refreshing, foolishly not realizing how difficult making new friends as an adult is. You had some coworkers that you go along with well enough. They had even talked about meeting up outside of work to just hang out, but these plans never fully came to fruition thanks to conflicting schedules.

Whatever. Dwelling on it isn’t going to help you. You need to focus on the here and now.

Currently, you were on a bus, and not to go to work this time. No, you were going to indulge yourself tonight with a little urban exploration. Today’s target was a somewhat recently abandoned mall. It’s been closed for around a year now, long enough for retailers to take what they wanted and for cops to be beginning to lose interest in constantly patrolling it. It was still under surveillance, but nothing you didn’t know how to navigate.

You spent a couple weeks scoping out the place, a nearby cafe made it easy to do so without raising suspicion. There wasn’t any on site security to worry about, you just had to keep an eye out for the occasional cop car that would drive by. They only stopped to investigate if there was a car in the parking lot near the building. This wouldn’t be a problem for you given your lack of a personal vehicle.

The plan was straightforward. You’d already identified an entry point while poking around the building at night, an employee only door with a busted lock. It took a bit of elbow grease to jerk it open, but there wasn’t an alarm rigged to it, so it was perfect. All you needed to do was make sure no one spotted you as you went in, and you would be golden.

The bus was slowing to a stop, and it was your turn to get off. Shouldering your backpack, you scooted to the edge of the seat in preparation. As soon as it stopped, you were on your feet and hurrying to the door. The mall was only a couple blocks from here in a rapidly failing part of the city. The only businesses around there were the aforementioned cafe and a couple of thrift stores. Fortunately, your way in was facing away from those stores. As long as a cop wasn’t driving by as you snuck in, no one would see you.

As you made your way there, you could feel the excitement setting in. You didn’t have much in your life to look forward to, this was one of the few things that made you feel alive. The thrill of getting in and out without being caught was addictive if you were being completely honest with yourself.

There were other pros to it, too. Sometimes you got lucky and found something valuable that you could pawn. A forgotten piece of jewelry, a dropped phone, some abandoned tools, you never knew what you were going to find. Even if you didn’t find anything, it was fun to be able to explore an old building with no one around. It gave you this sense of adventure your life was otherwise devoid of.

Granted, there were risks. Cops being the biggest one. Having a criminal record sounded less than ideal to you. There was also the concern raised by the fact that you did this completely alone. If something went wrong and you got seriously hurt, no one would be likely to find out until it was too late. That, and the threat of encountering someone dangerous.

So far, you’ve gotten lucky, only ever personally running into a couple of other urban explorers that were fortunately perfectly nice. There had been a few other close calls, but you were able to avoid detection those times. Your mom used to harp on this, saying one of these days you would get killed or kidnapped while doing this. Maybe she was right, but you couldn’t say you cared that much.

At least you wouldn’t have to go to your next shift!

You shook your head at the depressing thought. It’s not good to think that way, even if it was how you felt.

The mall was just ahead now, you looked around the parking lot for any indicators that anyone else was here. Nothing. It was completely empty. Good. Despite your excitement, you keep your pace casual, not wanting to attract attention.

Taking a cursory glance around, you don’t see any cop cars on patrol. You’re officially out of sight of the nearby businesses, so you shift into a power walk, wanting to get inside quickly while no one is around. You put on some disposable gloves and also pull a facemask out of your pocket and fasten it onto your face. Partially in case the air is bad, but also to protect yourself in case there are any security cameras.

The door takes a good few pulls to open up, but that’s fine. You do one more look around, and upon seeing nothing, you go in. The second the door shuts, you’re thrown into darkness. You fish a flashlight out of your backpack and click it on. It became immediately apparent that you were not the first person to discover this way in, the walls were already covered in graffiti. That and there were some heroin needles on the ground. You know, the usual signs of life.

You carefully make your way down the hall, trying to make your way into the main part of the mall. The air was musky, the smell easily cutting through your mask. It was far from pleasant, but you’ve smelled worse. At least you weren’t smelling any shit (yet).

The door at the end of the hall was easier to open than the last, no resistance at all. You peek out, looking for anything concerning before stepping out. There was natural light coming in from some sliding glass doors nearby. Looks like this place used to be a Macy’s or something like that. Lingering near the glass doors wouldn’t be a good idea, so you hurry off away from it. Once you’re in the main part of the mall you shouldn’t have to worry about being spotted from the outside.

The former maybe-macy’s was picked clean, they didn’t leave anything behind besides the counters and some flyers advertising a long since past sale. No shelves, no mannequins that would give you a heart attack if you saw them out of the corner of your eye, nothing.

Outlets in malls were typically very thorough when cleaning out after closing, you doubt you’ll find anything valuable here unless some other explorer left something behind. Oh well. You do this more for the experience than anything.

You found the way out pretty quick and took in the sight of the abandoned mall. Even after being closed for a year, it still had a certain beauty to it. The research you did on the mall told you it was built in the early 70’s and the architecture reflected it. The ceiling had a quirky pattern to it, with blocks of it being solid and other blocks being glass to let natural light in.

There was also an artsy metal structure that climbed all the way up to the second floor, and a big water fountain that acted as the centerpiece. Granted, all of this was decorated with a layer of broken glass from the shattered guardrails on the second floor, but still. This kind of decor was rare to see in modern malls, with all of them wanting to be as plain as possible. This was a pleasant change of scenery.

You meandered through the open space, glass crunching under your boots with each step. The escalators were right ahead of you. Like the guardrails, the glass on was also shattered, but that didn’t matter. As long as the stairs were in one piece, you could still climb them.

You had a specific destination in mind for your visit here. Yes, you would like to see every nook and cranny, but the movie theater was especially exciting. You’ve never been in an abandoned theater before, so you were dying to see it and made a beeline for it.

It was damn near on the opposite side of the building, but that just gave you a chance to see what other places you could check out later. While many people find places like this unsettling at best, you found an odd sense of comfort in it. Part of it was the silence. Provided no one else rocked up, the noisiest thing you would hear would be some birds flying through.

There was also the nostalgia of being in a mall and seeing the familiar, albeit vacated, stores you remember from your childhood. Malls simply aren’t what they used to be, and it’s nice to reminisce on what once was. Sure, it’s not like you could afford to shop at one, but just being able to walk around and window shop was enjoyable. At least you could still do the walking around part even when they’re closed.

As you make your way down the second story walkway, you take note of all the signs of life around you. Lots of spiders have set up shop with massive webs in every corner to make meals of the local insect population. Nests were crammed into the spaces in between letters on the remaining signs, and although you haven’t seen any, there are enough droppings here to indicate the presence of a thriving rodent society. That means there’s probably some stray cats lurking around here, too. You hope you get to see one. There’s a laser pointer on your keyring and some treats in your pockets just for such occasions.

You look up and are thrilled to finally be at the theater. There are blank rectangles on the wall from where movie posters used to be. The sign that used to display movies and showtimes now simply says closed. Well, technically it says ‘CL S D’, but you got the drift.

The lobby is surprisingly intact. The ticket and snack counters are both still here, even the glass around the ticket counter was unbroken. Some of the old snack machines still remained, which surprised you. It was faint, but you think you could still pick up on the smell of popcorn. It could also just be a placebo effect but shh.

You hop over the snack counter to see what’s back there. The first thing you notice is how sticky the floor is, your boots sticking with each step. The remaining machines are in rough shape, but that’s to be expected. The nozzle on one of the slushie machines was snapped clean off, and the doors on the popcorn machine were just gone. You meticulously opened all the drawers and cabinets, hoping to find something interesting. You didn’t. Just some garbage and rat shit.

Moving on, you head towards the really exciting part. The showing rooms. You can’t help but pick up the pace as you run into one, only to feel a touch disappointed. It was completely gutted. The screen, the chairs, nothing was left. Who the hell even wanted a bunch of old ass movie theater seats? Where did they go?

There was a problem though, the area near where the screen would be was completely flooded. You shine your light up to the ceiling and are baffled that there’s no hole for this much water to leak through. Where the hell did it all come from? It also smelled weirdly fishy? The fish smell was so potent that it almost distracted you from all the mold on the fabric covered walls. Yikes. “N95 mask don’t fail me now,” you mumbled under your breath.

Whatever. Spinning on your heels, you head for the stairs to go to the top of the room. They’re creaky and the carpet is coming off of them in bits and pieces.

There really wasn’t much of a reason to come up here beyond it just felt like the right thing to do. You decide to peek through the window to the projection room. Surprisingly, it’s very cluttered in there, it almost looks like a storage room. Oh, you’re definitely going to have to go in there!

… But how?

Now that you’re thinking about it, how do you even get inside one of these? It must be behind some sort of staff only door. You hope it’s not locked, there was a lot of stuff in there.

You rush down the stairs, ecstatic at what a good find this was. Once you’re in the hallway, you whip your head around to locate any possible entrance, and you find it. A plain, unmarked door between two of the theater rooms. Bingo. You twist the knob, but it doesn’t budge.

Not bingo.

It’s unlikely that the keys for this door are still here… but you can’t just let this go. After testing the fortitude of the door with a few kicks and yanks, you resolve to look for the key despite the low odds of actually finding it.

The most likely place it would be would be a main office or something. You head back to the lobby, that’s probably where the door to one would be. The beam of your flashlight flits over the surrounding walls in search of a side door.

Some fallen ceiling tiles and wires almost hid it from you, but there it was. You pick up what looks like a snapped off broom handle and use it to push the debris out of the way and keep the wires off you while you try the door, praying that this won’t also be locked.

It doesn’t turn. Dammit! Out of sheer frustration, you give it a violent shake. It snaps clean off, the knob from the other side loudly clattering to the ground. Looks like your luck is coming back around.

The door still takes a bit of rattling to shake loose the remaining bits of the old locking mechanism, but it finally creaked open. Wasting no time, you hurried in, observing the new area. While it was dirty, it was untouched by graffiti and general vandalism. It’s a simple long hallway with two doors. You get to the first and open it up, greeted by the sight of an old bathroom.

The mirror above the sink doubles as a medicine cabinet, so you decide to check it out. When you pull it open, the whole door comes right off. Oops. The cabinet in question didn’t have anything interesting in it, only being occupied by a bottle of tums, some nail clippers, and a box of dental floss. Thrilling stuff.

You move on and head for the other door. Surely that has to be the office. The door clicks open again, thank god. You grin to yourself, it is the office. The desk is right in front of you and in good shape, not appearing to have been tampered with this past year. Excellent.

It’s surprisingly clean in here. There is some dust, but not nearly as much as you would have expected. The desk itself is old and made of wood. It honestly looks way too nice to have been left here. The chair is, weirdly enough, not present. What, that was worthy of being taken but not the desk? Whatever. It’s not important.

You’re quick to start rifling through the drawers. Paperwork, pack of gum, more paperwork, some pens, a few paperclips, even more paperwork… it’s not looking good. Your heart is sinking with each passing second. You squat and look under the desk as a last ditch effort. Your light reflects off something. Keys!

There’s a strip of tape attached to them, like someone had taped them to the underside of the desk rather than using one of the drawers. An odd decision, but who cares? These might be the keys you need!

Not wanting to waste any more time, you run back to the possible projector room door. The key ring has several keys on it, so there’s a bit of trial and error to go through in your attempts to unlock it. Your heart rate steadily picks up as you go through each key with no success. It’s not until the second to last key that you finally hear that much anticipated ‘click’.

The door is surprisingly heavy, you really have to pull to get it open enough to slip through. It loudly slams shut behind you and you’re met with the sight of two staircases. The room you saw through the window should be on the right.

The stairs are carpeted but not as worn as the ones in the theater, making them less of a tripping hazard. Dust is being kicked up with each step, you can see clouds of it flying through the air and clinging to cobwebs.

Now you’re at the top and there’s another door. This one wasn’t locked. The room itself honestly resembles a boiler room to you. Pipes and cables were running along the walls, and the walls weren’t painted. There was a table in front of the window where the projector would have been.

That’s not what made you want to see this room though. Shelves were along every wall and they were loaded. You’re gonna need both hands for this. Luckily, you have a lantern type of flashlight in your backpack just for situations like this. You fish it out, click it on, and set it on the projector table before turning back to the shelves.

There were lots of boxes, so you grab the nearest one and bring it over to the table to go through it. It’s full of what you think are spare parts for a projector, though you don’t know enough about this stuff to be sure.

The next box has some old broken lenses. Then one with tools. You even found some film, but it seemed blank. You held it up to the light and saw absolutely nothing. You suppose it makes sense for all these things to be in here, but you can’t help but wish there was something more exciting.

You pull down another box, this one from the top shelf and open it expecting to see glass cleaner or something like that, but instead you find another, smaller box. You pull it out, and it looks like a jewelry box. There’s an image on the top of it: a skull and crossbones that’s biting what looks like a wand. Interesting. It kinda looks like something you would see on a pirate flag. What were those called again? Jolly Rogers? Yeah, that sounds right.

You give it a little shake and hear something clatter inside it. Trying to open it, however, is fruitless. It’s locked. All the keys you got earlier are way too big to fit the hole, but you think it should be easy enough to break open yourself at home.

A genuine smile spreads across your face, you found something cool this time! The jewelry box goes into your backpack, and you’re about to resume your search when you hear something. It sounds like voices in the hall.

Quickly, but quietly, you snatch your lantern to turn it off and creep down the stairs and towards the door to try and listen better. There are two sets of footsteps but only one voice.

“-nd today WE are doing an overnight challenge in a haunted abandoned mall!”

You cringe. Oh great. Youtubers. Liars too based off that comment about the mall being haunted. In all the research you did on this place, you never saw so much as one ghost sighting.

Huffing out a sigh, you know that your fun is going to be cut short. There’s no telling whether or not these idiots parked right by the front door. You need to get out before cops show up. That, and you don’t want to accidentally end up in one of their videos. You can practically see the title now: “REAL ghost sighting at ABANDONED mall??? SCARY!!! (NOT CLICKBAIT)”

No thank you.

Lucky for you, you’ve already got a nice find, so at least you’re not leaving empty handed. You wait until they go into one of the theaters to leave the room, carefully easing the door open and closed. After a moment of thought, you lock it, too. You want this to be untouched when you come back. Naturally, this means you’re taking the keys with you. They can’t be that important to anyone if they got left behind like this.

Your escape from the mall and trip back home was uneventful for the most part. You were able to leave unnoticed and before cops got there. The youtubers did, indeed, park at the front door, so it was only a matter of time.

The apartment complex you lived in was kinda run down, but overall not that bad. Sure, it was dingy and the bathroom had a mold problem, but it kept you warm and dry so things could be worse.

After entering your apartment, you immediately lock your door behind you. No sense leaving it unlocked and letting some creep in. With that taken care of, you drop your backpack by the couch and go to grab some tools.

You unceremoniously plop yourself onto the couch and toss a screwdriver and hammer onto the coffee table. You bring out the old jewelry box and really look at it now that you’re in a properly lit room. The dust was really caked on, prompting you to use your sleeve to wipe away the bulk of it.

The picture was very detailed. The skull and crossbones were painted beautifully, even the small wand looked lovely. The box was wooden, expertly varnished. You already feel bad that you’re going to have to break this open. Hopefully you’ll be able to keep the damage to a minimum, that way you can use it for yourself after this.

Experimentally, you try to pull it open again. It does have some give to it, but not enough to actually get it open. You grab the screwdriver and wedge it into the sliver of space between the lid and the box. You try and pry it open. It creaks a little, opens up slightly more, but stops short. Okay, time for the big guns.

Using your feet to hold either side of it in place, you grab the hammer, aim, and bring it down on the screwdriver handle. You hear a crack, but it’s still closed. You raise your arm and bring it down again, harder this time.

CRACK

Both the plastic screwdriver handle and the lock shatter from the force of the blow. You discard the hammer onto the floor next to the bits of handle and throw open the box.

There’s only two things in there. A rolled up piece of paper, and a necklace. The pendant on the necklace sports the same image as the top of the jewelry box over a bronze lattice patterned circle. You gingerly pick it up. It’s thin and feels brittle, like you could snap it in half without much force. What’s the point of a necklace being this fragile?

You set it back down gently and pick up the paper. It’s almost as bad as the necklace, it looks very old and is crumbling around the edges. Slowly, you unfurl it and see there’s a message scrawled onto it with red ink.

“Congratulations on your lucky find

I wonder what desire you have in mind

Close your eyes, make a wish, and break the pendant in two

Whatever you want most will come to you”

An eyebrow quirks up and the strange rhyme. What, was this left by a genie? You sigh, and here you thought you might get something valuable out of this.

Still… What would it hurt to play along for a second?

You grab the pendant again and examine it while you mull over what to wish for. Money? Nah. Money can be earned, however difficult it may be. If you’re gonna be using some sort of (allegedly) all powerful magic necklace, it should be something more unobtainable. What do you really want?

If you’re completely honest with yourself, you hate where you are in life right now. The monotony, the loneliness, everything. You need a new start. A new start with some new friends. Friends that actually give a shit about you. Anyone that loves you for you. Yeah, that sounds good.

Leaning back, you close your eyes and make your wish. You’re not sure you need to say it out loud, but do anyway, “I wish to have a fresh start somewhere new. A place with adventure where I can be loved.”

The pendant snaps in half easily. You hold your breath and wait. Nothing. You crack an eye open. You’re still in your same old apartment. Of course you are. Why did you think that would work? How childish.

Even though you expected this, you can’t help the wave of bitterness that washes over you. Angrily, you stuff the broken pendant into your pocket and grab your backpack. You stand up to go put this shit away, but…

You fall through the floor.

The floor didn’t break, it’s like it just ceased to exist. As you fall, everything goes black, and there isn’t a sound to be heard besides your own screaming. What’s happening? What’s going on? Shit, was that stupid thing really magical??? Was it fucking cursed???

Trying not to panic wasn’t even being considered, how could anyone not freak out from this? So here you are, screaming and crying while holding onto your backpack for dear life as if it’s going to help you right now.

Suddenly, you can see light coming from underneath you. You’re torn between being relieved to see light and being terrified that you’re about to splatter onto the ground. A wave of warmth hits you, carrying the smell of sea water. You realize that the ‘ground’ beneath you is actually a huge body of water.

And then you’re in it.

There wasn’t enough time to prepare for the sudden immersion. Water flooded into your open mouth and you scrambled and flailed in an attempt to get to the surface. As you break the surface, you’re coughing and hacking the salty water out of your lungs. You weren’t anywhere near the ocean, how are you suddenly fighting for your life in one?

You whip your head around and are horrified to see absolutely nothing, No land or ships in sight. Oh my god. You’re going to die out here.

“HEEYYY! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

You attempt to spin around to identify your potential savior, but a wave hits you, knocking you under the water again. Dammit, no! Not like this!

Miraculously, you get back to the surface again, and the second you do, something grabs onto your shoulder and pulls. And pulls. And keeps pulling. You went from almost drowning to feeling like you’re flying over the surface of the ocean. In an attempt to feel some semblance of security, you grab onto whatever is holding you.

It… it feels like a hand??? No, that doesn’t make sense, who could be pulling you along like this with their hand???

“Luffy, you need to slow down! You’re pulling her in too fast!”

You try to look over your shoulder to see what the hell is going on, and through your hair you think you can make out what looks like two people on a small boat. The boat is already very close and rapidly getting closer. Way too close!

THWACK

And everything goes dark again.

#one piece #yandere one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece reader insert #yandere #platonic yandere #monkey d luffy #zoro roronoa #this prologue got so out of hand it was only supposed to be like 1k words i don't know what happened #lucky break

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