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charleslee-valentine · 5 months

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For The Texas Chainsaw Fanworks Event Day 1: Favorite Ship

Ship(s): Franklin Hardesty x Nubbins Sawyer, past Drayton Sawyer x Lefty Enright.

Word count: ~3,800

Warnings: child abuse mention, ableism mention, tense family dynamics.

@texas-chainsaw-fanworks

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Franklins been at the house for all of ten minutes before a hefty, but docile raccoon gets dumped into his lap.

The Sawyer boys keep her as a pet, since they aren’t allowed any dogs after the last one raided the chicken coop of all the hens and had to be sold off. The worst their raccoon has done is chew through the wall paper, but since it’s already peeling off, that couldn’t be used against her.

Besides, she’s lazy and more than a little overweight after a few long years of getting her sustenance from table scraps, candy, and lots and lots of berries from the bushes out back. Sending her back out into the wild now wouldn’t be any bit kinder than keeping her safe and pampered.

Franklin’s well used to her being around all the time, but it’s only recently he’s started being allowed to hold her. Most of the time without any input from himself, since Nubbins just drops her down onto his lap without any warning.

Like right now, with the raccoon all curled up on him like he’s the comfiest pillow in the house. He gets comfortable scratching behind her ears and patting her tummy pouch, no longer afraid of bites.

Today it’s not just Franklin and Nubbins sitting about, but Bobby’s tagging along again, mostly because he doesn’t have much else to do. Franklin figures it probably gets lonely, just the family here on the farm.

So he’s learned to stop taking offense when Bobby’s curious eyes stare at him for minutes at a time, usually building up to a question.

This time, it’s: “Y-You ever- uh, you ever h-held a c-critter like her be..before?”

Not counting the times the Sawyer boys themselves saw to it that he had held a random rodent they found, that would be a no. Franklin answers to that truth, “Never. You sure she wouldn’t give y’all rabies or somethin?”

Bobby shakes his head. “Nuh-uh. N-Not our miss I-Ivy!”

“Sh-She don’t bite, o-or scratch, or n-nothin’!” Nubbins testifies, breaking the silence that had been his cover since Franklin arrived.

Sometimes he gets like that, all quiet and tense. He’ll usually be much more active with his random movements when that happens, and Bobby will be something of a translator for him. It’s just part of him.

Franklin doesn’t make a big deal out of it, or he knows Nubbins will get more quiet. He just teases, “That’s what you said about Bobby too.”

There’s a short pause, where the twins are processing what he meant. Franklin almost has enough time to worry they took offense to the little quip, but not before they start cackling. It’s the kind of laughter that’s so loud and genuine it echoes off the walls, and it makes Franklin want to laugh too.

He just does. With the boys, it’s easy.

Especially when Nubbins declares delightedly that, “B-But we still l-like him!”

It’s something about the way they can poke fun at each other and knows it’s all for laughs, even when some of the comments they get out in the world aren’t so innocent. The twins hear it all the time when there’s no one home to watch them and they have to go to work with their older brother.

Really, they throw themselves in front of the hateful words, knowing the next in line to take them are Bubba, or even Franklin. People like them don’t get it easy.

So sitting around the table, with a raccoon in his lap, making playful remarks with his boys? That’s something worth holding on to.

They all (except for sleepy Miss Ivy, of course) look up when the only sister in the Sawyer family walks through, having heard their conversation and announcing it to all with, “I wouldn’t count out the rabies anyhow. Bobby boy’s a wild animal.”

“H-Hey! That’s not t-true!” He argues after her, not as close with his older sister to let things like that slide.

All at once, he clumsily pushes his chair back, already darted off after her for some kind of revenge before the chair had even stopped wobbling.

Nubbins waves his hands about excitedly, craning and watching the conflict until he can’t see it anymore because the siblings haul up the stairs to keep arguing. And then he turns back to Franklin so fast his own hair hits him in the face.

Shaky, clumsy fingers pull the strands apart out of his eyes, reorienting and smiling all over again with his eyes fixed on Franklin.

Boy, Franklin knows what’s coming next.

Ever since the first time they kissed, Nubbins has been obsessed with it. Every quiet moment they get, he’s pressing kisses to Franklin’s skin wherever he can reach, be that his hands and his arms or his face.

It’s not faring well for their secret, but it’s also not something Franklin wants to stop anytime soon. Right now, it’s all the shy and chaste stuff still, little presses and gentle bumps, no lust in the mix of romantic feelings. The way they’re comfortable.

Though, Franklin still hasn’t gotten over blushing as red as a rose when Nubbins does kiss him.

This time, it’s a kiss right on his cheek, which is definitely heated up and blushing before Nubbins even pulls away. He’s not even sure what it is that flusters him so much. Probably just somebody so open with his emotions, showing them all for him.

It makes his hands sing.

Flapping and shaking like Nubbins taught him how to. Burning off all the happy that builds up in his body when his boyfriend gives him those sweet kisses.

They’re both doing it, the hand dances, when Drayton floats into the room randomly, holding papers they’d gotten in the mail and ranting about their contents under his breath. Something about bills and taxes. Franklin smiles sheepishly, embarrassed to be in a struggling man’s house, but he gets no response.

It’s all just hot air anyway. Nubbins reminds him of that by poking him in the side where he’s ticklish, making him squish up to one side and giggle. A wordless way of saying, ‘don’t pay no attention to him!’

Big brother Drayton grabs something out the drawers in the corner and paces back out to the kitchen, closing the door behind himself to deal with his troubles on his own. A couple of sheltered up seventeen year olds don’t know all that much about paying for things, so they wouldn’t have been much help to him anyway.

The thing is, the second they’re alone, Nubbins pulls his little stunt again. Kissing Franklin, that is.

This time it’s twice. Once just past the side of his mouth, and once straight on his lips. It gives him all kinds of fuzzy and warm feelings. Makes him want to grab onto his boy and never let go.

But he has to. Cause they’re interrupted once again, darn it.

The boys’ younger cousin Johnny comes running out of nowhere. He ducks behind the table, giggling up a storm. It’s only a few seconds before Bubba stumbles in, squealing delightfully. The children run around in circles, screaming back and forth with each other, playing some sort of chasing game. Bubba roars and Franklin thinks he might be playing as a dragon or something.

It’s around this time that the raccoon in Franklin's lap gets annoyed and jumps down, sauntering away towards the screen door to get outside, to get herself into some trouble probably. He sees Sissy come through and pick the old lady raccoon up and carry her to the back door instead, where the yard is fenced in and safer for her.

Nubbins is to shut down to do it himself, as he covers his ears. He doesn’t like all the noise, but he gets in trouble if he tells Bubba to stop making it. Neither of them can help it. Franklin taps Nubbins gently and shows him to shake his hands and get the yucky feelings off. To try to cope with Bubbas way of copin.

He wiggles his bottom in his chair, which Franklin would imitate if he could. He nods and smiles at least so Nubbins knows he’s doing good. A few months back, or years when the two had first met, Nubbins would’ve snapped at Bubba and hurt both of their feelings in the process.

They don’t really know what Nubbins has got going on in his head that makes him so irritable, but he’s not too good at controlling it, not without some help. Franklin wants to be the one that helps him. Forever and ever.

‘Cause Nubbins is helpful back. He teaches him to do fun things and how to make cool art. Over home, Franklin wouldn’t get nearly as much conversation, he’d probably just sit there quietly all the time and be miserable.

So he hopes it’s alright that he’s here so often. The family accepts him. Even the pet raccoon likes him!

If he’s got Bubba’s approval, he knows he’s good, and that he must, since Bubba gets hurt while playing with Johnny, and goes straight to Franklin.

He’d been running around the table again and bumped his head, and welled up with tears right away. Happy little squeaks turned into loud and snotty wines. Johnny and Nubbins freeze up, being the youngest and the most distracted two in the whole family, neither of them know how to fix it when Bubba gets upset. But Franklins been watchin’ for all his time here. He thinks he can do this.

“Come here, Bubs. Lemme see.” He adjusts his wheelchair around to face Bubba and holds his arms out to him.

The younger boy, a preteen now but much taller than Franklin, inches over and sadly lays his cheek on his shoulder. Franklin has to lean just a bit to observe the little red mark on his head, glad to see it didn’t even break the skin, “Hey now, it’s just a bump. You’re alright. No blood.”

Instant relief. Bubba babbles and pats his hands on Franklin's arms, and he knows that’s the boy thanking him. He smiles, “You’re welcome, Bubba. If it still hurts, go with Johnny boy and tell Drayton you want some ice in a bag.”

Bubba nods and turns to his cousin. The younger boy smiles, tags Bubba on the tippy top of his curly head, and takes off running back towards the kitchen to find Drayton, taking the long way around through the front hall. Bubba follows, looking much better already.

Nubbins gives him a little smile, “H-Hey you’re g-good at that.”

Franklin’s going to shrug it off, say it’s just what friends do for friends, but Nubbins isn’t listening anyways. He’s looking at his lips again. With the position of his wheelchair, they can’t reach each other, so Franklin gives a small nod. He can tell Nubbin wants to move him, but he got in big trouble for touching Franklin's chair without permission.

Frankie himself hadn’t minded it, but Sally saw, and Sally might not get a lot of things right about Franklin, but she was angry that someone would drag her brother around like a doll. She’d screamed at Nubbins til her freckled face was red, and Nubbins was near in tears from anger at being talked to that way.

He really broke down when he got home and got in trouble with Drayton for making the neighbors upset. He’d spent his whole time-out sobbing his eyes out, and punching the wall.

It was ugly and Franklin wanted nothing to do with that again. So they have their little silent moments, where Nubbins can just, sort of look and it’ll imply what he wants. Sometimes that’s better than words with them, and better than just doing it without asking.

Would it have been easier to reposition the chair himself? Absolutely. But it sort of felt nice having Nubbins spin the wheels for him and try to get everything perfect. Like he really cared about having Franklin close.

And then once he gets it, he kisses him one more time. This time, he brings up both of his hands to either side of Frankie’s face, and just holds him there. They don’t move much, it’s pretty much just a lock of their lips, occasionally shifting to breathe. It’d be weird and awkward if it was anybody else.

Instead it makes Franklin blush carnation pink and his heart go pitter patter.

That gentle rhythm turns a hell of a lot more panicked in both of them when suddenly there’s a shriek in the room,

“Nubbins got a boyfriend! Nubbins got a boyfriend!!”

Oh. Bobby came back. He saw.

There've been plenty of close calls before, but nothing the two couldn’t pass off. Two years of hiding is a long time and they maybe got careless. And now Bobby’s jumping up and down and singing and it’s just-

Too much.

“Boyfriend!!! Nubbins! Got! A! Boy-“

The kitchen door slams back open. Drayton whacks the wall with a wooden spatula instead of hitting any of the boys,

“That’s enough, boy! You lost your damn mind?”

Now Bobby’s on the defensive. He shakes his head wildly and points, putting all the attention on his brother and Franklin, “Th-They was kiss-kissin’!”

Nubbins and him stare at the ground. Bobby looks confused why they seem so upset. Romance is supposed to be good! They keep mama’s wedding picture on the mantelpiece and she don’t even live here anymore. It’s not bad that Nubbins could be like mama too, not in his eyes. It’s good that he’s got a boyfriend!

Drayton might beg to differ though. It’s hard to tell, with the tense form of his posture. His eyes are narrowed and he’s just, staring for a moment. Assessing if maybe Robert was lying to him. Til he asks gruffly, “That true?”

“Uh…” Franklin can’t speak. He knows what his boy means to him, but he just can’t articulate it, can’t defend himself in the face of someone he’s afraid of.

Nubbins isn’t afraid. He balls up his fists and slams them on the table and shouts, “Yeh! S-So what?”

“Ain’t going to have none of that in my house, is so what.” Drayton says it sort of like a command. Like he expects the two of them to just break up on the spot. Calm because of a smugness, and because he’s so angry underneath.

Oh, but his Nubbins turns bright red in anger, the glaring birthmark on his cheek deepening like the color of blood when it gets under the skin like a bruise. He accuses, “Yer just m-mad cause you got n-nobody t’ kiss! Lefty left you, a-an’ yer all-all alone! Mean old m-man!”

Drayton grits his teeth, sort of like a growl, “Shut up.”

Franklin really needs to ask more about what happened between his uncle and the oldest Sawyer. For now, he’s watching this argument like you’d watch a ball game, back and forth between the angry brothers shouting at each other. His jaws a little slackened in awe.

“Nuh-uh. I-I’m gonna kiss my Fr-Franklin whenever I want!” Nubbins declares, and gets real close to Franklin, nose pressed into his cheek, as if to prove it.

“Don’t you dare-“ Drayton warns, but it’s too late.

Nubbins kisses Franklin's face all over, cartoonishly and childlike, with little “~mwah” noises and everything. It’s sorta sweet in a way. Doesn’t stop Franklin from being mortified.

And it doesn’t stop the oldest from reacting. Drayton marches forward, shoving extra furniture out of his path, to get to Nubbins, pulling him back hard by his bony shoulder.

“Why you little-“

His hand raises up automatically to thwack Nubbins. Nubbins pokes his tongue out, disobeys, but he shrinks down too. He anticipates the painful contact.

Dread settles heavy in the room.

Franklin can’t breathe. They’d talked. This wasn’t supposed to happen anymore. Nubbins wasn’t scared, things were better now, they’d be okay-

Bobby breaks his stunned silence from things going so so wrong, to shriek out, “N-No, Drayton!”

Franklins realizes he has the power to speak too. He’s much closer to everything. Can hear the angry breaths and see the shaking bodies. It scares him, but he tries to be firm too, “Don’t hurt him.”

The image of getting a smack of his own plays in his head and he bows apologetically, “Please.”

Somewhere, that reminds Drayton of his hollow promises. His face even goes a little pale.

Stiff and awkward, he taps his hands on Nubbins’ arms. It looks like it’s supposed to be comforting, and at least Nubbins takes it that way cause he relaxes a little. Drayton eventually, with a little bit of effort now that he’s past forty, crouches down by the chair. It’s not really a hug per se, but he kinda lays his head on Nubbins, and the boy accepts it, curling up to make as much contact as possible.

This isn’t the pretend to get along stuff, or the scream until their throats are raw hatred. They’re trying to love each other. Drayton’s trying to be vulnerable. Nubbins is trying to not fight.

Franklin, for one, is confused though. It doesn’t make sense.

“I thought you was mad?” He asks quietly, eyes fixed to the floor like seeing the Sawyer siblings hug is something to be ashamed of.

“Been through a lot, kid.” Drayton answers automatically, pulling away from the bit of strange affection he was able to show, rising to his feet again.

There’s silence for a long time, while everybody tries to think of what to say.

Drayton paces on the spot a little. Bounces impatiently, his temper with himself now mostly. Wipes his hands on his work pants.

Finally, he speaks, seeing that nobody else is going to, and having something else on his mind he needs to put out, “I’m all they got. Can’t let a simple thing ruin it….. I won’t get on your case. Just.. Just you stay outta his bedroom, you hear?”

Oh god. They’re not- Franklin never- Where did he..?

Franklin just nods, and he’s sure he looks stupid, but he was caught off guard! The implication there is beyond embarrassing, something that never even occurred to him yet. He’s sure his own flushed face is hot enough to rival the sun.

Drayton accepts the nod as the answer it is, more than used to not getting words for answers. And then he lingers sort of awkwardly, extending his hand out for maybe a hand shake with the boy, but then withdrawing it immediately before Franklin can even accept.

There’s something going on in that old man’s head, and Franklin wants nothing to do with it.

It’s only because Nubbins forgives him that he doesn’t hate Draytons guts. Maybe he gets the luxury of being an outsider, or maybe it’s because he’s got both his parents and just one little sister. Whatever it is, something tells Franklin it isn’t his place to decide for the Sawyers.

Either way, doesn’t mean he has to be a fan of Drayton Sawyer.

And maybe he glares a little at the door after the man leaves again, muttering to himself about something indistinct, not the same as the finances rants. More like he’s scolding himself or something.

The twins are over it though. They’re fixed back on their respective friend and partner, both leaning in to ask him something quiet.

It’s Nubbins who does the speaking for the question they both have, “Why a-ain’t you allowed i-in our room?”

God, no. Franklin cannot answer that right now. He’ll die of humiliation trying to explain it to the boys. Shouldn’t they know that already at seventeen?

“Uh.. that’s probably a question for your brother.”

Bobby recoils and scrunches up, acting like he touched something gross, and squeaks, “Ew, we d-don’t wanna talk to h-him!”

Never thought he’d see the day, but he’s actually about to defend their older brother. Not because he likes him, that'd just be a downright lie, but because he knows this’ll be easier if they don’t all fight amongst each other all the damn time. No hitting, no arguing, no name-calling.

That’s probably wishful thinking. Franklin tries to mediate peace anyways, “You heard what he said. He cares ‘bout y’all. Sometimes you gotta talk to him.”

But Robert Sawyer is one stubborn son of a gun. He just shakes his head and flicks his hair dismissively, “That’s d-dumb.”

That offends Nubbins into speaking up, “Fr-Franklin’s not dumb, Bobby!”

There’s a moment where they just stare at each other, before Nubbins strikes. It’s like nobody in the world is allowed to breathe until they solve their problem. Which they choose to do by wrestling it out.

The fight is like watching two lions without teeth trying to kill each other. They just sort of push and hit and pull hair. Bobby bites Nubbins on the arm once. Nubbins shoves a pile of chicken feathers from the next room, that were left from Bubba bringing his favorite hen in the house, into Bobby’s face.

All of it’s mostly harmless. That’s probably why Franklin feels a little flattered, watching his boy defend him that way. If it were anybody other than his own twin brother, he might even do some actual damage.

All for Franklin. ‘Cause he isn’t stupid. Just like Nubbins didn’t deserve to be hit.

He’s glad he stood up for him. And that Nubbins did it right back.

It’s something a little like love that flutters in his chest.

That is, until the spirit of the Holy Ghost gets scared right out of him by more unexpected yelling and banging on the wall.

Drayton crowd, “Y’all aren’t gettin’ nothin’ for supper if you don’t stop yer rough housin’!”

For a moment, the twins are just stuck looking at each other in horror, before they work on untangling and righting themselves, helping each other fix their hair so they don’t look like they’ve just been fighting. It’s too late, their brother already knows, but they hide the evidence anyways.

The thing Franklin finally understands, is that it’s not a lie when Nubbins says he isn’t scared.

It sort of inspires him to wanna feel that way too.

So this time, once the boys are settled back in their seats, he initiates a kiss, right on Nubbins’ cheek. Nubbins sneaks and turns his head quick to make it a real kiss, but just a peck.

Bobby giggles and points at them, “Y’all got.. C-Coooooties!”

Nubbins would’ve probably jumped across the table and tackled him again if the rest of the family didn’t start coming in for supper.

Instead, he’ll hold Franklin’s hand, all throughout, for the rest of the day even if he can help it, and not care even one little bit who’s looking,

#tcmfanevent #nubbins sawyer #franklin hardesty #franknub #chop top sawyer #bobby sawyer #drayton sawyer #bubba sawyer #johnny and sissy appearances #franklin hardesty x nubbins sawyer #the texas chainsaw massacre #tcm 1974 #tcm 2 #tcm fanfic

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rottmntsimp · 4 months

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Hai!! I saw that your requests are open and you also do match-ups! I was wondering if I could request a match-up for ROTTMNT?? (Feel free to ignore this if ur busy btw ^^’)

I’m 5’5, trans FTM. I go by multiple names, but my internet alias is Mia. I have short brown hair with raccoon tails (like the 2000’s scene-kid kind) and dark brown eyes. My hobbies are art (digital/traditional) crafts, collecting trinkets or Monster High Dolls and LPS. I have autism & ADHD, and my special interests are ants and psychology. I have a big vocabulary and I have a hard time being emotionally open. My personality type or whatever it’s called is INFP-T, but I like to act dramatic and ‘mean’ for the giggles.

(Again, feel free to completely ignore this request lol.)

Hey Mia!! Sorry I took so long- [It's my first matchup so bear with me-] Also, don't know if I should add a tag list or not, so I've decided not to

Personally, I ship you with Donnie!

💜 - Finally! Someone who he can talk to without having to dumb it down!

💜 - As for art, if you're the kind to give gifts [paintings and such] expect him to give you little trinkets to collect in return.

💜 - And yes, he will get you whatever doll/action figure you want, not only on special occasions, but on random days as well!

💜 - I can vividly imagine him just flying by on his jetpack, then comically coming to stop as he sees something you'd like through the shop window

💜 - I can not stress this enough but ✨THEATER KIDS✨

💜 - Personally, I believe Donnie's MBTI is INTP [type A or type T, I'll never know]. Seeing as you're both introverted, dates nights or just general hangouts will be spent indoors in one of you guys' homes!

💜 - Movie nights where you both quote the lines <3

💜 - The two of you being emotionally unavailable with each other might or might not become a problem depending on how you two overcome it.

💜 - You may not be openly emotional with each other, but those moment spent in silence, enjoying each other's presence, those little gifts that were traded, the info-dumping sessions spent together, they make up for it pretty well, I'd say <3

💜 - As for the autism and ADHD!

💜 - He doesn't mind, I mean, he'd be a hypocrite if he didn't date you just because you were neurodivergent.

💜 - If you're the kind to stim vigorously, he'll make sure to baby proof his lab a bit, so you don't end up hurting yourself.

💜 - But, he will probably do some stimming himself so happy little stimming sessions are to be expected

💜 - Vocal stims aren't minded either! In fact, if you're both in a good mood, he might join in.

💜 - If you like having someone do your hair, he's willing to try! He'll probably open up YouTube and follow along, and depending on the hair style and your hair type, it might not take too long!

💜 - If you guys are long enough into the relationship for cuddles, he will play with your hair, so beware-

💜 - Ants and psychology you say?

💜 - As a guy with his own special interests, he doesn't mind. In fact, he probably respects you for it.

💜 - Will put aside a project just to listen to you ramble on about either topic.

💜 - As I said earlier, info-dumping sessions are a must!

💜 - Now, if you're into psychology and plan on being a therapist and such, don't try to dig into his emotions too much

💜 - My boy takes time, and he'll open up when he's ready.

#rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #2018 donnie x reader #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #donnie x reader #rottmnt donnie #simps fics #character matchup

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talltalesandbedtimestories · 6 months

Text

“Let You Off With A Warning” - Beau Arlen x Reader

Part of the “Guardian of the Gulch” Series

Rating Teen

Beau Arlen x Reader (eventually)

Tags: Fluff and Flirting

Word Count: 1900

There's a new sheriff in town. And he just so happens to have parked his RV in your campgrounds. What's a park ranger to do with all that Texas charm strutting around on a fine pair of bow legs?

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "Food as Bonding" square.

Image created in Canva (credit for photo used: ABC/Michael Moriatis)

Corey’s eyes are ready to roll right out of his eye sockets. He slumps over the counter, office phone pressed tight to his ear.

“Absolutely.” He enunciates every syllable. “Yes. I can see how that would be quite an intrusion.” Those stubby fingers snap to get your attention.

You’re finishing up your checklist after vehicle patrol. When did fireworks become an every night of the week event for days prior to the Fourth? The annoyance can become dangerous in Black Sandy State Park. Especially when bored kids and drunk adults get it in their heads to light things on fire on campgrounds during drought conditions. You’re figuring that’s what the call’s about. Things had been relatively quiet so far that night.

You had hoped they were going to stay that way. All you wanted to do was clock out in the next five minutes, get home, and catch up on “The Bachelor” episodes filling up space on your DVR.

“We’ll have someone head over and take care of it.” Corey smiles at you.

You groan back at your Park Manager. You’re the only other someone.

You head to the campsite that phoned the office first. It’s a husband and wife with a large brood. They’ve got every creature comfort under the sun - or in this case, moonlight - in their parcel paradise by Hauser Lake. The Class A motorhome makes you wonder what kind of house they left behind.

The wife is the one running her mouth at you even though the husband had called to lodge the complaint. You try to wrap your head around the noise she’s harping about and how it’s possibly bothering the four kids. All of the children are laser-focused on handheld devices. They don’t even look up when mom asks them to corroborate how annoying the sound from their neighbor is.

If you had your way, you’d block all WiFi access in every part of Black Sandy.

After the requisite pleasantries, you turn and trudge through the shadows to the lodger who’ll be getting a talking to. Though not the talk Mrs. Devonshire is expecting.

You adjust the cap on your head. The voice emerging from one solitary speaker is muffled and mono on your approach. The silver Airstream is curvy and sleek. A standout that manages to sparkle even in the dark.

Its owner sits in a lawn chair. He’s watching some old time western projected onto a white sheet tautly stretched between two poles.

His eyes have cottoned on to your movement seconds ago, you're sure of it. His day job requires him to be hyper aware of his surroundings at all times.

“To what do I owe the honor of a house call this late, Ranger? Raccoon invasion? Dump station on the fritz?” He stands to greet you. An open beer dangles from his fingertips.

“Nothing that exciting, Sheriff.” The Bachelor’s got nothing on this specimen. The handful of times you’ve crossed paths, you are never quite prepared to be in this man’s presence.

“I’m not on duty. Call me Beau, remember?” He grins to confirm the allowance of such informality.

You sigh. “Afraid I am on duty. And have to request a favor.”

He nods and tilts his head over to the Devonshires. “Let me guess? I’ve done something to upset Linda.”

You raise an eyebrow. “How’d you know?”

“I had her figured out as soon as she waltzed over to introduce herself bright and early this morning before I left for work.” His lids widen in emphasis. “Ten minutes of my life I’ll never get back. Is she about to release the kraken?”

You chuckle. “Just turn down the volume on your movie a smidge, please.” You pinch two fingers together. “We’ve never had a complaint about you before, so no worries. We’ll let you off with a verbal warning this time.” You grin.

He’s amused at that. “Mighty kind of ya. Well, let me do it right in front of you, so you can put it down in your incident report.” He strolls over to the speaker and dials down the knob. “Perpetrator immediately complied with the request.” He announces, a little on the loud side. “In case Linda’s watching.”

You stifle a laugh. “I’m guessing she doesn’t know you’re the Sheriff of Lewis and Clark County?”

He shakes his head. “How would she? I don’t think I got five words in this morning.” He lifts the lid of a green cooler with the toe of his cowboy boot, bends down and pulls out another beer bottle. He has a bounce in his step on his way back to you. “But, you know, I don’t reckon it would’ve even mattered. She still would’ve had Larry make the call.”

“How’d you know Larry called?”

He shrugs and offers you the beer. “Lucky guess.”

You wave a hand. “On duty, remember?”

A tip of his wrist has him checking his watch. “You getting paid time and a half? It’s almost nine.”

You smile at how well he catalogs information and smooth talks with all that easy Texas charm. By your second run-in with him he’d found out your work schedule and how important it was for you to stick to it. He even had you fess up, somehow, to your penchant for reality TV, especially shows of the love competition variety. You grab the beer and twist off the top. The beer tingles down your throat in a welcome swallow. “It’s all your fault I’m still here.”

“Well, then, let me make it up to you. Sit a spell.” Before you can register, he’s snapped open another lawn chair near his own. He presents it with a flourish.

“I guess I should hang around for a bit. Make sure you don’t get yourself in more trouble.” The chair settles into the dirt under your weight.

“Not the first time it’s been suggested I need a chaperone.” He sits alongside you.

You nod at the movie. “What’re you watching?”

He stares at you, disheartened. “Really?”

“I don’t do westerns.”

“Pale Rider. Clint Eastwood. It’s a classic.” His head shakes. “Kids today.”

You scoff. “Kid?”

“You can’t be more than 25,” he states with complete earnestness.

“You don’t need to butter me up, Beau. I already said you’d get off on a warning.”

“How about some bribery then, just to ensure nothing ends up on my permanent record.” He nudges a bowl on the tiny circular table in your direction.

It’s hard to make out the contents. You squint. Light from the projector brightens up the scene for a moment. “Oh, you found them.” You pull out a cherry and tug at the fruity flesh between your teeth to release the stem.

“I did. Saw ‘em at a farmer’s market in town. You were right. Flathead cherries are amazing.”

“Hm.” You concur and indulge in the sweetness. “So good.”

Beau snickers. “You two need some alone time?”

“So good,” you repeat. “First pick of the season reminds you of what you’ve been missing all year.”

He nods and grabs a couple for himself. “That’s what the guy at the stand was spoutin’.”

Beau Arlen has only been the sheriff for a few weeks. But you agree with the assessment that most have of him. He’s an affable and acceptable substitute while Walter Tubb recuperates. Arlen’s smart and ingratiates himself easily with everyone in the county. He knows those that keep things running in Helena by their first names already. And as you are someone that secures and protects a part of state land in the county under his jurisdiction– well, you get to share a beer and some cherries with him tonight.

The conversation is light and dances about with no rhyme or reason.

“What’s your favorite meal to eat back home?” He asks with great interest. With an angling of his head upward, he shoots a cherry pit out of his mouth like a mini cannonball into the shadows. You think he’s intentionally aiming in the direction of the Devonshires. “Like, the kind that needs your undivided attention?”

“Easy. Grilled salmon and roasted asparagus with mashed potatoes.”

Beau takes a swig. “Found anything comparable here?”

“Not yet. Doubtful it’ll be anything close to what I could get back home in Oregon.” You course correct and try not to be too hard on the place you’ve called home for the past two years. “But, you can fish a decent dinner out on the lake.” You thumb at the water behind the trailer. “The trout and perch are tasty.”

“I haven’t gotten around to fishing in Hauser yet.” He sighs.

“Seems like every time I turn on the local news, something major is going on in the area. Most of it ain’t good.”

“Tell me about it. I thought this would be a slow drip favor of a job for a friend. I was saying to Hoyt today that a dam holding back all the crime must’ve burst as soon as I got here.”

You make a note to give Jenny Hoyt a call. You haven’t hung out with her or Cassie in a bit. It’s time to catch up and get all the details you can about the new sheriff in town. “Well, what crime has Helena committed when it comes to your favorite meal back home?”

“Oh.” Beau’s lips flap as he releases air from his lungs. “Haven’t found a good T-bone yet. Tried grilling a couple myself but I don’t know, just not the same. What I wouldn’t do for a melt in your mouth steak with some buttered corn on the cob and a baked potato topped with sour cream and chives.” He licks his lips with a far away stare.

You grin at how fond his expression is over the memory. You kind of wish he’d stare at you like that for even a second.

Some soft pops ricochet in the night air. You both sit up at the sound.

“Fireworks.” Beau states. You nod and then wait to see if anything can be seen in the distance lighting up the sky. It quiets again after some seconds. “You better get home before you can never leave,” Beau decides. You open your mouth to protest. He only shakes his head and cuts you off. “Hey, if Corey’s got something to say about it, just tell him the sheriff can pinch hit if he needs backup.”

You smile. “Not sure if that’ll fly coming from me.”

“Then you tell him to call me if he needs confirmation.” He nods and this time the smile he gives you is fond and, dare you think it, a bit flirty. “Besides, you’ve got a bachelor waiting for you at home, doncha?”

The laugh bubbles out of you. “I doubt he’ll be any better company.” You purse your lips at the confession that gave more of your thoughts away than intended.

He stills at the compliment and takes it in for a long beat. The smile that curls up is soft and sweet. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” You rise and leave the half drunk beer on the table.

Beau rises as well, always the gentleman.

“Have a good night.” You hurry out the words to match your steps.

You don’t dare turn to look back at the sheriff. You can’t stop grinning like a giddy school girl.

His voice, low and warm in the summer night, draws out, “You have a good night as well.” He adds, “Ranger.”

#jacklesversebingo23 #beau arlen x reader #fanfic #fluff #flirting

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misty-zzz · 5 months

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Pst! If you've read this before, then make sure to reread it frequently! i may add or delete some stuff! :3 LAST EDITED: 4/27

sorry this is so long

Hello, hi! You can call me Misty!

I’m the human, furry, raccoon, mantis shrimp, and dragon (sand dragon), starkin, oceankin, therian/otherkin. I’m slightly insane but who cares.

I go by she/her/they/them + neos (star/starself and wave/waveself)

(Pink- I talk about a lot.

Orange- a little, not too much.

Blue- I’ve never mentioned, but I am in)

My main interest are:

Object shows (mainly hfjONE)

Tally hall

Will wood

Lemon demon

regretevator

the owl house

msm

Vocaloid/project sekai

Murder drones

The amazing digital circus

Five nights at Freddie’s

hazbin hotel

Billie bust up

Zelda

Stardew valley

My tags:

Misty's random thoughts - talking abt what ever i want to

misty's ocs doing silly stuff - showing off my ocs

misty drawz - art tag

I am also a young artist, duh. I always try to do something new with my drawings. Here’s some of my favorite pieces of art I made!

I also often post art dumps of traditional arts that I usually draw at school.

I don’t have many other socials, I blame my parents.

YouTube (other youtube)

And Pinterest

Yeah I only have those :P

DNI: homo/transphobic, furry/therianphobic, other average dni, like pedo/zoo, pro Israel, yawn. Yeah.

i dont really care if youre younger or older than me, just if you are older than 18, please just dont be creepy. i will block if youre creepy.

also no sexual stuff, i dont mind jokes (sometimes some jokes can be a bit much), but besides that, nty, reminder, im a minor (im also asexual)

Idk what else to say, enjoy my stuff I guess

if your going to ask me something, dont spam, and i dont like it when you ask something that could easily be a post on your blog. i much rather have actual questions for you guys to get to know me better! and i wont answer all questions, i do see them, i just honestly forget to answer it, and im too embarrassed to answer it 😭

Feel free to use the dividers, I made them!

#misty’s random thoughts #remade this lol

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illarian-rambling · 1 month

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Thanks for the tag @somethingclevermahogony and @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling!

OC Question Game

My questions:

How many languages do you speak?

What's an item you always keep on you?

How do you show affection? (Bonus: Are they open about this or do they keep it to themselves?)

Salty, spicy, or sweet?

What is your favorite game or sport?

What was the last thing you threw away?

I'll answer for the Mortal God crew only, so this post doesn't end up a mile long ;)

How many languages do you speak?

Astra: "Like, one n' a half. My Nabafyrian's a lil' rusty."

Mashal: "Two, I think? I guess I didn't know I could speak Skysheerian until I did it, so who knows what else is rattling around my runes? Speaking Llanaodan would be fun - it's such a pretty language."

Ivander: "Two, but my Kevete is questionable. I learned it from Ceyrel, and she has a tendency to think lying is funny."

What's an item you always keep on you?

Astra: "My ribbon coat never leaves my back. I'd be defenseless as a rose-scented skunk without it!"

Mashal: "I suppose my sketchbook. I like to keep it handy so I don't miss out on anything I'd really like to draw."

Ivander: "My illusion pin. This dashing smile isn't quite so... bright without it. Other than that, my cane. For, you know, obvious reasons."

How do you show affection? (Bonus: Are they open about this or do they keep it to themselves?)

Astra: "The best way to show a lovin' heart is with lovin' hands. I make all sorts a' crafts for my friends - just useful stuff, ya know? I also can't resist a nice warm, or cold, hug."

Mashal: "Showing affection? Well, I, uh, I always try to have a kind word at the ready. Everyone deserves to hear nice things about themself."

Ivander: "Affection is for people who can't afford anything better." (He shows affection through gift giving. Most of those gifts are stories, jokes, or rumors he thinks you'd like. He'd just never admit he feels affection for anyone in a situation anything short of deadly)

Salty, spicy, or sweet?

Astra: "Spicy! I love a good, hot chili."

Mashal: "I wish I had a sense of taste still... I miss sweets."

Ivander: "I guess I'll go with salty. So long as it keeps me alive, the food is doing its job."

What is your favorite game or sport?

Astra: "You ever seen a Jetj match? They play it way down 'long the Shuari isles. That shit's crazy. There's fellows beatin' each other with sticks. There's pit traps. Sometimes, they put a bear on the field. There's even a ball in there somewhere!"

Mashal: "Horse racing is incredible to watch between skilled opponents. The mastery, the training, the bond between rider and mount.... I won't say I've never bet money on a race before. I always win it back, though. I know my horses."

Ivander: "Elthuryah is such a peculiar game. It was brought to Unity by siren refugees a few years back and immediately gained immense popularity. I'm a trend-following sort of man, so I, of course, learned to play. I became quite good, in fact.

What was the last thing you threw away?

Astra: "Some fuckin' receipts I found in my coat pocket. They had to be at least a year old. There was some weird orange goo growin' on one, but that ain't nothin' too unusual. Orange is usually a positive color in the realm a' goo."

Mashal: "Scraps from dinner, maybe? I try to find a creek to dump them by so the raccoons have an easier night."

Ivander: "Old bandages. I go through the things rather fast."

Thanks for the tag, both of you! I'll tag @greenwytchbooks @roach-pizza @hunnislutt @pluttskutt @poethill @sergeantnarwhalwrites @amandacanwrite and anyone else who wants in :)

Your questions are:

What's your favorite season?

Unpopular opinion?

When was the last time you screamed at someone?

#writing #writerscommunity #writblr #my ocs #question tag

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bleach-your-panties · 6 months

Text

toji, the dick-slinging slasher 🍆💦 🔪❗️- toji fushiguro x fem reader

🍔: first jjk fic EVER and it's crack lmao.

🍔: this was too good for me not to write

🔪: prompts from the wheel of misfortune, i can't help myself

🔪: includes horror prompt from beyond the grave & kink prompts sir kink, clothed sex, filming/recording, food play, & size kink

🔪tagging: @bastardblvd, please don't kick me out of town for this mess of a fic 🤣😭

🍟:4.0k words

🍟:warnings: crack, slightly dubcon, non-penetrative sex?, cursing, dirty talk, spitting, age-gap (reader is early 20's, Toji is..undead) & spongebob dialogue. reader is squidward, basically.

🍟: this is not to be taken seriously! mcdonalds!manager!aki and denji from grimetown make appearances.

🍟: loosely based on my experience working in fast food.

🍟: banner made by me on pic collage

🍟: dividers by @/firefly-graphics

"Finally. 10 pm." You let out a deep sigh of exhaustion.

You had just finished mopping the entire lobby over again after a group of late-night stragglers had came in and ordered twenty McDoubles, extra pickles. What a strange order.

One of them even tried to get into a verbal altercation with you because he claimed that his sandwiches had no pickles and accused you of not giving him any.

You don't even work the fucking line; you're a cashier, for Christ's sake, even if you’re in the process of being cross-trained.

After dumping the dark, murky mop water outside the front door, you began to roll the bucket back to its designated area in the back of house.

Back there, Denji, your manager's weird associate, was picking at the leftover food from the dinner rush like a scavenging raccoon.

"You're not supposed to be back here." You gave him a deadpan look.

"You're not supposed to be back here," He mocked you, "Fuck that, I'm starving."

"Then go home and make something to eat?"

"Nah, this'll do." He unwrapped a McChicken that had probably been sitting there since lunchtime.

"You're about to have diarrhea out of this world."

He just shrugged.

You went on about your business with your other little housekeeping duties then took off your headset and nametag once you were done.

God, I hate this job.

You'd just finished university a week ago and upon your rejection of your dream graduate school, you ended up having to move back to Grimetown and live with your parents.

Your old-fashioned parents who don't believe in their grown children moving back home unless they have a job.

So here you are. Working at Mcdonald's with a fresh bachelor's degree under your belt.

"I'm going home. Later, Dingy." You pulled on your coat and grabbed your purse.

"Alright, and it's Denji."

"That's what I said, 'innit? Peace out."

Denji rolled his eyes at you just as Aki came out of the office. "Hold your horses, Y/N. Where do you think you're going?"

You froze, hand poised to open the door.

"Uh, home? It's almost ten-thirty."

Aki pulled a cigarette from under his hat, turned one of the grills on to light it, and then stuck it between his thin lips.

"No, you're not. I've decided that I'm going to keep the store open 24 hours now. More money for me-I mean you. Money for you."

You gave him an incredulous look and removed your hand from the door handle.

"What?! This place is a shithole, it's not built to run 24 hours!"

As you said this, the lights started flickering.

"See!"

"Denji, stop that!"

"Sorry."

Aki looked about ready to give up on life but he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts.

"Anyway, here's the keys. You'll switch out with the morning shift at 6 am. Have fun. Don't burn the place down, no matter how tempting it may be."

You didn't know what to do, so you just stood there with your mouth open.

"I can't believe this shit! You can't just leave me here by myself all night!" Snapping out of your little trance, you followed after the dark-haired man.

Aki turned his body halfway to meet your gaze, half-smoked cigarette still between his lips.

“You won’t be by yourself. Denji is here with you.” As if that was supposed to put you at ease.

“What? You can’t leave me here with him; he doesn’t even work here!”

Denji hopped down from the counter and strutted over to the two of you, chest poked out.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, Y/N. I’ll take good care of you~” He then smirked as his eyes trailed over your body in your too-tight uniform shirt and pants.

You swear that bastard Aki purposefully ordered your garments two sizes too small, causing you to have to literally squeeze your assets into the God-forsaken red shirt and black pants every other day.

"You stay away from me." You pointed an acrylic fingernail at Denji without taking your eyes off of Aki.

"No way you can leave me here with Dumbass all night."

"It's Denji."

"That's what I said."

"Oh, but I can. You stay or you're fired. Simple as that. See you later!" He attempted to give you both a half-hearted wave, but you grabbed the sleeve of his jacket.

"Where are you going?"

Aki looked at you befuddled - are you actually whining?

He gently brushed you off of him and removed the cigarette from between his lips.

“I’m going home - where else? I have a life.”

"I have a life, too, ya know!"

Denji snickered. "How can you? You live with your parents."

“You shut up! No one asked you!” You retorted before sulking off to the back again.

_____

Toji didn’t know how to feel after he was killed by Gojo.

He thought that he’d at least go straight to hell, but apparently, that didn’t happen. Now here he was, in the middle of some…weird ass town in a shitty graveyard where the tombstones were poorly maintained. Damn, did anyone in this piece of shit town even tend to their dearly departed?

“This shit sucks…” Toji complained as he pulled himself out of a shallow grave that someone must have dug and threw him in unceremoniously. After brushing the dirt off his broad shoulders with his one good hand (only hand), he stretched it above his head and yawned.

The town ahead of him was dark, with only a few lights on of some apartment buildings, houses, and businesses that were crazy enough to run their power bills up by staying open all damn night long.

Like one certain McDonald’s….

_____

“Hey, Y/N, look at me! I’m uploading thirst traps to my Instagram story…at night.” Denji winked at you and clicked his tongue, waving his iPhone in his hand.“When else would you upload them, Dumbfuck?” You replied blandly as you lazily flipped through a magazine.”Whoever is thirsting over you is clearly blind or just desperate.” You added.

“Oh, that’s harsh.” He frowned. The two of you were just sitting around, bored out of your minds. No customers had entered the store since Aki left forty-five minutes ago.

Denji paraded around the table you were sitting at, chanting about different tasks that he was doing on his phone…at night.

Then suddenly…

Silence.

“Hey, Y/N, wanna hear a scary story?”

Silence over.

“No, but I know that you’re going to tell me anyway, so let’s hear it.” You rolled your eyes and closed the magazine, now giving the blonde your full attention.

"Okay, so-"

The bell over the door rang and in walked a customer, whistling happily.

"Good evening! I'd like to make an order!"

Both you and Denji stared at him for a long while until you finally decided to peel yourself out of the red leather booth and head to the cash register.

"What can I get for you tonight, sir?"

"One Big Mac Meal, please, extra onions on that. Oh, are the fries fresh?"

You looked behind him at the clock on the wall: 11:25 pm.

"No," You stated dryly, "will that be all for you?"

The man gulped nervously at your lackluster expression and less-than-enthused tone and nodded.

"$8.35."

____

After the customer was situated at a table and munching his food happily, Denji continued with his story.

“As I was saying. The legend of Toji, the Dick-Slinging Slasher.”

You had to hold back from spitting some of your orange Hi-C right into his ridiculous face.

“I’m sorry, did you say ‘dick-slinging?!”

“That’s what I said, yeah.” Denji nodded, not phased by your outburst.

“Legend has it, that on dark, cloudy nights, much like this one, he stalks the neighborhood looking for unsuspecting bitches to rob.”

“Okay, and that’s scary, because? Sounds like an average day in Grimetown.” You snorted.

"Be serious for one second, Y/N!" He slapped his palms down on your table.

Who is he to tell someone to be serious?

"Alright, alright, I'm listening."

Denji continued, "In his past life, he was a nothing-ass-bitch and deadbeat father who went around stealing from people or assassinating them for money."

"He got killed by this super overpowered albino that he failed to assassinate and then after that, no one knows what happened to him. I heard that some teens from Grimetown High threw his ass in a ditch as a dare and that's where he's buried to this day."

You couldn't help but bust out laughing; this was the dumbest story that you'd ever heard!

"Denji…I'm still failing to see how this story is supposed to be scary…"

"Well, when the albino killed him, he mutilated the entire left side of Toji's body, leaving a big ass gaping hole and Toji with only one arm. That doesn't stop him from slinging his community dick to all the unsuspecting bad bitches, though."

'Okay, this is idiotic. I'm checking out.' You shook your head and got up with your cup, dumping the leftover ice down the drink fountain’s drain.

“Heed my warnings, Y/N! When the clock strikes midnight, he’ll come for you! Guard your booty!” Denji wiggled his fingers and made moaning noises that sounded more…pornographic than ghostly.

“Yeah, alright. I’m going to dust the drive-thru windows.”

____

12:00 AM, Midnight

So those clouds turned out to be storm clouds full of rain that was soon pounding down onto the miserable roof of your little establishment. The roof was leaking in a few places because Aki was too lazy to call the contractors to come and look at it.

“I swear, what is he even good for besides secondhand smoke and micromanaging everybody?” You groaned, placing yet another bucket under a leaking spot.

A loud crack of thunder sounded, and then everything went black.

“Denji!”

“It wasn’t me that time!”

A few seconds later, said blonde came from the back carrying a heavy-duty flashlight.

“The power’s out. I tried tripping the breaker but got nothing.”

“Isn’t there a backup generator here?” You asked and he just shrugged.

“Don’t ask me; I don’t work here.”

With a loud groan, you went to grab your cell phone out of your bag to call Aki.

No signal.

“Oh, you’re fucking kidding.”

You replaced the rectangular device inside your bag and retreated to the lobby where Denji was.

The thunder roared louder and the rain pattered harder against the roof and the glass windows.

“Hey Y/N?”

“What, Denji?”

“This is kind of like the story, right? The perfect setting for Toji to show up.” You scoffed.

“Denji, that was just a stupid story. It’s not true at all! No one could survive with half of their body blasted away!!” You were just about at your wit’s end now, when the customer with the Big Mac came to the counter to ask you for ketchup.

“You’re still here?” Denji asked and the guy just looked at him. After he got his condiments, he packed up the rest of his meal and left, probably to get home and out of the rain.

The next few moments were spent in silence with the two of you trying to figure out how to get the power back up and running.

While Denji was in the back where the breaker box was, you were searching underneath the countertops for some sort of panic button or something.

CRASH!

Either Denji fell or a tree came down outside. You hoped it was the former, honestly.

Tap tap tap tap tap.

“Denji?! Is that you? Did you fall?” You whisper-shouted. You shined the flashlight on your phone to the back, trying to locate him.

“Fall?”

Tap tap tap tap tap.

The lights began to flicker again and you jumped once you saw Denji suddenly standing beside you.

“Don’t do that! You almost scared me half to death, you dummy!”

“Sorry. Hey, what’s that tapping sound I keep hearing?”

“Y-you mean…you weren’t doing that?”

SCREEEEEECHHHH!

Lightning flashed at the same time that the lights flickered back on.

At the front door, the tall outline of a burly man was standing there. His wet, dark hair splayed across his forehead and his eyes glowed a menacing red.

“IT’S T-THE D-D-...!”

Denji’s body seized up as the man put his hand on the door and pushed it open, letting the pounding rain slosh and slide across the tiled floor. His slippered feet stomped through the puddles of water that were forming as he stalked his way toward the both of you. The little squish squish of his shoes through the water must’ve snapped Denji out of his little trance. He then looked at you as if realizing you were still there and in this predicament with him.

“Oh Y/N…I’m so honored that you went to all this trouble dressing up and using my own story to try and scare me! I knew that you liked me!” He chuckled, trying to convince himself that what he was seeing couldn’t be real.

Your mouth gaped open as you could only stare at the huge man coming towards you both now. Up close, he’s quite a looker. Deep, blue eyes, a cocky smirk set upon those handsome features, and a long, diamond-shaped scar at the corner of his mouth.

“Denji…there’s only two problems with your theory, there. I barely fucking know you, so how could I like you, and how could that be me when I’m standing right fucking here?!” You screamed at the idiotic blonde.

“Ah, what a noisy couple the two of you are. Making my fucking head spin.” Toji continued walking until he was right up on you. You had to crane your neck back to look up at his face. He looked right back down into your surprised one.

“You’re a cute one. Judging by that tight-ass uniform, I’m assuming that you work here?”

“Y/N, RUN! IT’S TOJI THE DICK-SLINGING SLASHER!”

Yeah, I think it’s a little too late for that now, don’t you think, Denji?

“Is that what I’m being called now? How lame.” Toji chuckled and before you could blink he kicked Denji into the wall.

“H-hey! Leave him alone, you one-armed prick!” You argued with a shake in your voice, which only amused Toji further.

“Prick? Where are your manners, you little brat? You’ll address me by sir and nothing else. You understand that, bitch?”

Denji groaned from where he was slumped against the wall.

"Sir? Fucking cringe. Next, he'll be expecting you to call him daddy."

Toji ignored Denji's comment and waited for your response.

You opened your mouth a couple of times but no words came out.

Toji leaned his ear down to your mouth.

"Can't hear you, darling. What was that?"

"Y-yes sir."

He smirked and straightened his back.

"Good girl. Now, what do you serve here?"

"W-we serve food here, sir."

He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes at you before looking above your head to the lighted menu.

"Don't be a smartass."

He rubbed his thick fingers over his chin while he tried to decide on a meal.

"I think I'll have the Spicy McCrispy meal, hold the onions. Extra ketchup and pickles, large fry, and Diet Coke. Gotta keep it balanced." He chuckled to himself once he'd finished.

"Make sure you make it extra tender, juicy, and hot."

The bile began rising in your throat - both at his words and at the fact that you knew the oil that those crispy sandwiches were cooked in hadn't been changed in over a week.

"$10.96."

Toji stared at you blankly and you just returned it. You both stood there awkwardly staring at each other for a moment.

"$10.96?" You repeated.

"I…uh..left my wallet in my other sweatpants?"

You could feel the sweat dripping down the side of your forehead.

"Forget it. You'll pay for it with the insane amount of explosive diarrhea that you're going to have."

Toji chuckled nervously and leaned against the counter, watching you move around while you fixed his food.

He was instantly mesmerized by how much your ass still jiggled despite the tightness of your pants.

"Here ya go." Your voice snapped him out of his perverted thoughts.

The tray of food looked surprisingly delicious, but you know that it's old and that the fries are cold and stiff.

Toji didn't care, though; he was just glad to have a meal.

He ate everything greedily, all the while never taking his eyes off of you.

When he finished, surprisingly, he dumped his trash in the bin and straightened up his area.

You had retreated to the back of house before he finished; with the power being restored, you could now focus on doing some other menial tasks that you'd only just now remembered.

"Hey…you! Leave Y/N alone!" Denji warned as he watched Toji begin to follow where you had gone.

"Fuck off, pipsqueak, or I'll kill you."

—

In the back, you'd started washing dishes and prepping some things for the morning staff.

The door separating the back of the house and the lobby swung open and then shut loudly behind you.

"Huh? You? What are you doing back here?"

"Hush now, darling; you wouldn't want your little friend out there to hear us now, would you?"

"Who, Dickhead? He's not my fucking friend, not by a long shot. Doesn't mean I'd want you to kill him, though."

"You sure got a nasty mouth on you, little one. What, not afraid of me anymore?"

The rusty blade of a sword made contact with the back of your neck.

"I mean, at this point, I was hoping that you were just a bad bout of indigestion, but that doesn't seem to be the case, now does it, gramps?"

Toji could feel the left side of his face twitching: "Gramps?"

You blinked once. "Yeah, gramps. You've probably been dead for ages now, so you're like somebody's rusty old great-great-grandpa."

"Rusty?!"

He pressed his crotch against your ass and let you feel his raging hard-on. Even through your pants, you could feel the weight and girth of his dick.

"Would someone who's considered to be 'rusty' be able to get this hard, baby girl?"

His one hand pushed down on your lower back, making you bend over the sink.

"Much better. 'Face down, ass up' suits you, darling."

Toji continued to rub his hard dick against the seat of your pants while making sure you stayed pressed against the sink.

A few soft moans of surprise escaped from your lips as he continued rutting against you.

"T-Toji.. " Your fingernails gripped the edge of the metal sink. His pelvis pushed against your ass and you bounced it back against him…

"Good girl, so fucking sexy." He growled, moving to grab a handful of your ponytail that peeked out of the hole in your McDonald's cap.

This continued for several minutes; Toji moving his hand between gripping your hair, holding your hip, rubbing his thick fingers over your clothed cunt, and smacking your ass.

This ordeal would have to take the cake of being the weirdest night of your life, with no competition.

"Fuck, Toji…this is so weird but hot…I think I'm going to cum…"

He chuckled darkly, "So you get off to dry-fucking creepy old men after insulting them, eh? What a pompous, dirty, little slut you are, baby."

His movements got faster, making the sink rattle against its unstable position on the wall.

Just as you were getting close to finishing in your panties, Toji flipped you around, making your back press against the sink painfully.

You didn't have time to start a complaint though, because now he was slotting himself in between your legs.

"Woah!"

You didn't know that your leg could stretch that far, but Toji stretched it until your black slip-resistant sneaker was behind your ear.

He began again with the same movements: thrusting against you with all the intent of a man getting ready to bust a fat nut.

"A-ahh, Toji…

"Hmm, feels good, sugar?"

Sugar.

"Y-yes, Toji…God."

He chuckled and moved to hover over you. A trickle of warm saliva dripped from his lips into your waiting mouth before he cupped your cheeks.

"Swallow."

You gulped, letting the viscous material slide down your dry throat.

With your head slightly tilted back, a blinking red light caught your eye. Toji followed your line of sight and then smirked.

"Does that camera work?"

"I don't think so…Aki never gets shit fixed around here…ah.." A sharp thrust of his hips against your covered clit made you shiver.

From the sound of your moans, Toji could tell that you were getting close.

With that one arm wrapped securely around your waist, the strong man lifted you up high to where you almost touched the dingy, grease-splattered ceiling.

He settled you down onto the line where the food was bagged and prepared to be sent out. There was a stack of brown serving trays next to you, containers of ketchup and other condiments, and…the ice cream machine.

"Toji.. what are you planning?" You asked, bringing your cute and confused E/C gaze up to meet his lustful sapphire one.

He hummed quietly and pressed his lips against your neck.

"Could have sworn I told you to call me sir, brat."

You rolled your eyes. He just wasn't going to let it go, was he?

“May I ask what you’re planning to do next, sir.” You huffed like a contemptuous child, making Toji’s dick jump.

With this new positioning, you were facing the camera head-on. God, you really hoped that thing wasn’t actually on.

“Smile for the camera, sweetheart.” He whispered in your ear before biting the shell of it, letting his tongue trail down until he was tasting the metal of your silver earring.

"You're so tiny and light, I love lifting you up as if you were nothing more but a little ragdoll." Toji bit at your earlobe, making you let out a loud squeal. Denji definitely would've heard that.

His hand moved to pull your hair, yanking your head to the side so he could leave a trail of wet kisses down from your ear, across the expanse of your neck and collarbones, and down the valley of your breasts once he'd popped the buttons on your shirt open.

With the angle he had you at, your chest was positioned right under the nozzle of the ice cream machine and your near-fucked-out self hit the button, making a gush of cold, melted cream-colored confection spill across your chest.

Toji raised an eyebrow at you and failed to bite back a laugh. You, on the other hand, weren't as amused.

"What? You'd rather have something else white and creamy splattered across your chest?" He asked.

You flopped back on the counter and flipped him off. He began to massage the melted ice cream into your skin.

"Looks so sweet. Got any cherries to go on top?”

“Fuck you.”

A handsome, devilish grin stretched across his face. “You just did.”

"What made you appear here tonight?"

He laughed outright.

"Didn't you listen to the story, dollface? I'm here to sling dick to all the unsuspecting bad bitches, and tonight just happened to be your lucky night."

—

Aki came in the next morning, well-rested and without a care in the world.

With a lit cigarette between his lips, he fumbled with his massive set of keys until he found the correct one needed to open the doors.

Denji had texted him at some point last night telling him about the storm, so his first order of business today was to check to see if the security cameras were still functioning properly.

He sat down at his desk and popped in the security tape from last night.

The employees, customers, and vendors that had come in after him would hear a very loud and very distinct shout of 'WHAT THE FUCK?!' from the back.

----

*ʳᵉᵇˡᵒᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ!

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ang33333333l · 4 months

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The Diary of Petunia Glasschuh

Cw:bullying and slight bad parenting from Petunia's mom and also talks about self mutilation.

AGAIN THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH TO @saneriddlefan67 FOR BETA READING!!!

Taglist(again you can always ask to be tagged!!) @satans-gaurd-dog @leonakingscholarship @silvveringjadestar

Entry 1

Dear Diary,

Today starts a new chapter in my life. Night Raven College, though I have been to boarding schools before, they were all girls and only for ladies. Now, I share a room with a boy, he drank like a flea ridden dog while downing the water in the finger bowl. Who does that?!? Did his mother not raise him with a lick of common sense?! But on a more positive note, his hair color is quite nice along with how it looks. I wonder what his hair routine is, maybe double wash it every two days? Perhaps deep conditioning once a week? Actually now that I truly think about it, this whole night has been rather strange. Two girls, one was in a wedding gown for goodness sakes!! The other claimed she was from another world. I feel sorry for both of them, they seem like they got hit in the head via a large rock.

Entry 2

Dear Diary,

It seems like most of the students have little to no common sense. Especially that Ace Trappola. I hate him so much, always saying something stupid and it just gets on my nerves. Anyways, my classes are going well, Sebek is quite loud, but I can't control that. I also learned the name of the girl in the wedding gown, Fauna. Quite a nice name, though I am surprised she’s the same age as me. She is from a different world so perhaps marriage laws are different? She's always carrying that weasel?? Cat?? Dog?? Raccoon?? I don't know what that thing is, but apparently his name is Grim. Fauna is quite nice, though a complete idiot. She believes her fiancé will save her…I wish I could believe like that, but Mother says that love isn't real, all that men care about is status and how pretty a woman looks…Fauna is beautiful, and she has a natural charm. I wish my words would get through her, if he did want her, why hasn't he come yet?! I honestly believe he's in love with someone else. Well, on a different note, I finally learned the name of the pretty hair boy; Epel. He has a habit of carrying around onions. It's probably to season the food but…onions?!? Just onions?? No spices?? No herbs?? Does he perhaps need help with seasoning food? If so, I could graciously help him!!

Entry 3

Dear Diary,

I wish people in this school had common sense. That annoying boy won't shut up. Even in P.E. How hard is it to keep that mouth shut and not make everyone do more than necessary?!? Well, I bumped into someone, his name is Jack. He's a beastmen, and his tail is pretty impressive. Of course, the split ends on it are quite noticeable. But other than that it looks rather soft, maybe he needs help trimming it! I wonder what he does to take care of his tail, maybe double washes it? It does seem like it's carefully brushed too. But, on a side note, Vil is quite the…chief…All their food is so bland!!! No wonder Epel carries those onions!! I at first believed it was just flunks! No, they were not. If I have to sit through the BLANDEST meal imaginable for another time this week, I will be pulling out my hair!!!

Entry 4

Dear Diary,

I met Jack again, we were both attending to plants in the school’s garden. I never would've guessed he enjoyed gardening. He was very gentle with the pots, maybe he could give me some tips for my potted plants. I noticed how golden his eyes are, they’re quite beautiful. If they were gems they would make for the most perfect jewelry!

Entry 5

Dear Diary,

I have just been humiliated. I just got a bucket full of paint dumped onto me!!! I don't know what type of prank it was but I felt everyone’s eyes on me and just…laugh at me!!! Who does that?!? I think I also heard a few people talking to their friends saying “I wonder how that stuck up will react” and all I could do was just cry and run…now my uniform is ruined…I just hope it doesn't happen again. I hate this stupid club, why did I even pick Film Research?!?! I don't like this club. So what if I’m stuck up?!?! It's not like they're anything better!!! And I can't do anything about it because people told Vil it was an accident and what proof do I even have to disprove that claim?!

Entry 6

Dear Diary,

I hung out with Jack again, I don't know if the tough guy personality is an act or if he genuinely is a tough guy. It's like people describe him as that but when I’m with him, I can see him slip up and be caring. Well, that's usually followed by “Not like I care or anything…” He makes me laugh, I like that in a person. I also notice how many split ends he has on his tails, maybe once he gets comfortable with me I could ask him if I could trim up his tail. Jack also has such a nice smile. I should probably get his number, but when's the right time?? Would it be weird to ask so soon?

Entry 7

Dear Diary,

I hate this school. I hate everyone. I hate Fauna especially, how does basically everyone like her?!?! She's just a dumb naive girl!!!! She has nothing impressive about her!!! All she has is a pretty face!!! Why can't people like me like that?!? Why can’t people like me like that and be sincere about it?!? Why do I have to work hard for a little respect but all she has to do is show some basic kindness and she’ll have people fawning over her!!!!...But I guess like I said, she does have a natural charm to her…but…why can't I be like that? Why can't people love me like that? Why do I have to prove I’m worthy of love? Why do I have to prove that I’m worthy of being seen for more than my wealth and status?!?...Now that I truly think about it, Fauna just let people walk over her, it's pitiful. Fauna may be dumb but she doesn't deserve to be drained out of everything. I once talked to her and she just went off the rails about what she could do to help me?! I just wanted a simple conversation. Plus it doesn't help that the other girl, I believe her name is Yurika, only really uses more violent methods of getting her point across. I guess if I was in Fauna’s shoes I would try my hardest to be kind just to keep the peace.

Entry 8

Dear Diary,

I wonder how bad it would be if I just got dirty once, the last time Mother gave me an earful of how I shouldn't get dirty. I would also break a nail, and I would rather not have that. Despite what people think, my nails are fully real, no acrylic to make them look longer, just nail.

Entry 9

Dear Diary,

I realized how I had no friends before meeting Jack and I guess Fauna?... Everyone I interacted with was either because of Mother or school, no one actually wanted to be my friend. I just been alone, reading books about useless fairytale romance that would never happen to me. I may be known as “The Fairest flower in Fleur City” but I don't think it's true…I know I only won because of my pretty face and nothing else, it’s not like people truly got to know me. I wonder what would happen if my face got destroyed or damaged in some way, would people still treat me with that faux kindness or show their true colors? I know very well the other students in Pomefiore except a few would treat me worse. It's like everyone in this dorm is so obsessed with having a pretty face, I know very well what that leads to, my life isn't fun. Suitors only caring about my appearance then how I actually am, suitors only care about me enough so they think they have won me over without even realizing I always throw away their horrible letters and disgusting gifts.

Entry 10

Dear Diary,

I hate it. I hate everything. I hate my face. I hate Mother. I hate how I don't even know my own interests. I hate it, I hate this school. I hate Ace, Epel, Vil, Rook, Riddle, Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, BASICALLY EVERYONE!!!! Why is it so hard to be noticed for something other than my beauty?!?! What if I just take some hairspray and a lighter and burn off my face?!?! How would people treat me then?!?!? Huh?!?! I bet that half of these students wouldn't even look at me!!!!

Entry 11

Dear Diary,

After a week, I have calmed down. I also have started to realize how I feel around Jack. I feel warm around him, I feel safe like I could tell him anything, and my god when his hand brushes against my hand on accident it feels like my heart is beating faster than it should be!!

Entry 12

Dear Diary,

It feels weird, Mother always told me to be careful, especially with my sutors, to not fall in love due to how it will only hurt you, and to let her deal with my love life. She always said she would find the perfect man for me. But…Dairy, I think I already did, we have been hanging out and talking for a while now. It feels…nice not having Mother picking out boys for me, it feels amazing just…talking to him. He loves snowboarding, actually he really loves any winter sport. I wonder once it gets colder I could ask Mother if I could stay with Jack, I will tell her it’s for a school project!! Yes, a school project!! A perfect excuse! Well, more like a lie…But it's worth it!! Mother can never know about him, what if she hates him?!? Then I’ll be banned from seeing him…I can't let that happen! Under no circumstances will that happen!! But…how will I tell Jack this? How does one even confess without making a mess of themselves?

Entry 13

Dear Diary,

I wonder if I could garden. The potted plants only really provide a good thing to rant to when I can't write anything down, and to clean them up. I can't get dirty or else it would ruin my reputation. Is this why people see me as stuck up? It isn't my fault that their Mothers didn't teach them common sense!! But it doesn't matter, plus my beauty is the best quality of myself. You know when I think about it, what else is my best quality? Do I even have any? Mother always says that it is important to be educated, so I guess that's another good quality, but…what else is there to me? What do people think of me? Just a pretty face?...Is that what Jack thinks about me? That all I am is just a stuck up girl with a pretty face?.. No, he isn't like that…But Mother says how men can easily lie just to use you, but I’m really starting to doubt her. I mean, she only married my Father then he left her after she had me. I think she's just worried for me, but it has always been suffocating.

Entry 14

Dear Diary,

Writing letters is harder than books make it out to be. Books make it seem like once you put a pen to paper you're the next Shakespeare, but all my attempts make me seem like a desperate nutcase. OH GREAT SEVEN WHY MUST I INSIST ON WRITING JACK A LETTER?!?

#twisted wonderland #twst #internetangelpost #twst oc #jack howl x petunia glasschuh #jack howl x oc #jack howl twst #twst jack #jack howl twisted wonderland #jack howl #👠🐺#petuina glasschuh 👠

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milfgyuu · 2 years

Text

The Yo-Nut Slasher Pairing: Wen Junhui x Fem!Reader Tags: 2.3k, Humor, Spooky Stuff Prompt: “Would you stop stuffing your face with candy for one moment and listen?” Requested Anonymously Summary: Ur favorite Yo-Nut employees are back for a Halloween special. (From the ‘What’s My Age Again?’ AU)

Warnings: Language.

Halloween is always a busy night for the Yo-Nuts staff, including the late shift because what’s better than going home and digging into all that candy?

Apparently going out for frozen yogurt and donuts at one o’clock in the morning.

That’s what.

You and Jun whirl around each other behind the counter serving costumed vampires, werewolves, zombies, cheerleaders, celebrities, slasher villains, and tv show characters galore.

Seriously, you’ve seen like twelve Eddie Munsons from Stranger things in the past hour alone.

The toppings are running slim and there is only one bin of gummy bears left but thankfully closing time quickly approaches and people start filtering out around two thirty in the morning. You attempt to clean as you go but you’re shot from how busy it’s been. Jun is much the same as he half-heartedly cleans the counter, knocking sprinkles onto the floor he’ll have to sweep up later.

He’s still holding strong to that promise of cleaning the floors and bathrooms for all eternity.

“That’s it,” Jun sighs in relief, locking the doors and turning off all the neons in the windows. He flips the ‘Closed’ sign a little hastier than usual. “Hell night is over.”

You snort, turning down the lights. “It’s almost three am. The witching hour hasn’t even begun.”

Jun finishes cleaning the last of the tables and see’s you carefully closing out the computer system, pulling the cash drawer to take back to the office to count.

He can’t resist the urge - you’re just so vulnerable and unsuspecting. He sneaks up behind you and presses his fingers into your ribs, delighting in the terrified squawk you let out.

He’s lucky not a single penny spills from the drawer in your hands.

“If you tell anyone about the sound I just made, I’ll kill you,” you growl before turning around and glaring up at him, “And then I’ll dump your ass and you can be a lonely single loser for all of eternity.”

Jun grins. “You’re so hot when you threaten me.”

Damn him and his ability to make you laugh.

You retreat to the office and Jun cleans the floors and bathrooms - though it might be a little half-assed and a problem for day shift. The only thing left to do is shut down the serving station but he glances at it and instead decides to check on you and make sure you weren’t trying to bash in the poor old printer as he’d caught you attempting a few weeks back.

Printing the evening financials was decidedly the worst part of your job.

Thankfully, by the time he arrives, you’re already neatly stacking reports and stapling them together. The machinery still fully intact. Jun knows he’s not allowed to be all lovey dovey with you at work because you hate the PDA but no one is around so he leans over you to kiss the top of your head, smiling when he hears your soft hum of approval.

Something catches his eye in the large monitor that displays the footage from the security cameras and at first, he writes it off as his imagination but another flicker of motion has his brows furrowed as he leans over you. You complain about being smooshed beneath his frame but he clicks on one of the outside cameras, centering the footage and making it larger.

“Someone is hanging around by the dumpsters.”

You huff. “Yeah, probably a fat raccoon.”

“No, I’m serious.” His tone is far more firm than usual and you take a look at the screen. “That’s a person. They’re just…pacing back and forth.”

There’s a lump in your throat and you struggle to swallow it down.

“Maybe they’re drunk,” you hurry to rationalize why there would be a large, dark figure lurking behind your building, “There’s tons of Halloween parties and pub crawls going on.”

Jun grimaces, “...I don’t like it.”

You lay your hand over his and look up at him. “I’ll write a note for day shift and we can just leave the trash inside by the back door. My car is close to the front doors so let’s just finish what we need and go, okay?”

Jun glances back at the camera where the figure continues to pace back and forth, no sign of deviation from it’s short, repetitive path. “Yeah, okay. Let’s get out of here.”

Even though you know you’re safe inside you don’t let go of Jun’s hand as you walk around ensuring everything is indeed locked up. Jun hits the lights as you go, blanketing everything in darkness until only a few service lights and the moonlight shining through the dining room windows illuminate your steps.

You make it just around the corner and behind the counter when Jun suddenly wraps his around around you from behind, one hand over your mouth, and he drops you both to the ground behind the serving station. Your eyes are wide in panic and Jun hushes you softly, his lips close to your ear.

“Don’t scream! Please don’t scream,” he repeats until you release the death grip on his wrist and try to slow your breathing. “Someone is outside trying to look into the windows.”

“M-maybe it’s just some idiot who doesn’t realize we’re closed.”

There’s a horrific sound that hits your ears and you both cringe. The sound of something sharp scratching glass.

You jolt in fear and accidentally knock Jun’s head against a metal cabinet. He groans but you quickly scramble out of his lap and plaster yourself next to him, curling your knees tight to your chest. You smack his thigh, telling him to do the same thing because his long legs stick out so far his shoes would be visible to whoever the hell is outside. He tucks them in and rubs the back of his head, instinctively ducking as there is a taunting knocking sound.

“This is not fucking happening,” you mutter to your self, “We’re not getting murdered in Yo-Nuts.”

Jun snorts and you cut him a glare. “What?” he whispers, “The headline would be a little bit funny.”

“I’m. Not. Laughing.”

He shuts right up and the silence is followed by tapping but it’s sharp, almost metallic. It makes your teeth hurt. Jun looks over at you trembling in fear and he tries to make you feel better.

“What if it’s like the hash-slinging slasher?” he attempts, “Right? Because he was actually just some guy with a spatula who wanted to apply for a job and he wasn’t scary at all!”

Your nails dig into your knees to keep from losing it and you look over at him, tilt your head, and grit your teeth. Jun shrinks.

“Except that was a SpongeBob episode and this is real life!” you hiss, “And we don’t fucking use spatulas here!”

So, that didn’t work.

“Oh my god,” you squeeze the bridge of your nose, “Ok. We just need to think.”

The tapping is drowned out by a loud crunching sound and when you peer over at Jun, he’s managed to somehow reach back behind and above your heads to grab a mixed handful of crushed peanuts and chocolate chips out of the serving bins. He shovels it into his mouth and you shake your head at him.

“Ok, alright, we need to call the cops,” you mumble to yourself patting down both your apron and pants pockets, “Shit, where is my phone?”

More crunching but slightly varied. Likely another topping option.

Around a mouthful, Jun asks, “Did you leave it in the office?”

Yes. Yes, you did. It had almost fallen out of your pocket so you set it on the desk and then you got distracted by the creeper outside and you just wanting to get the hell out of here.

You hold out a hand toward your boyfriend and then close your fist around four multi colored sour gummy worms. With a hushed groan, you whip your head toward him, vision catching on the pink gummy worm hanging out the corner of his mouth.

His eyes widen curiously as you aggressively throw them away, the faint sound of them splattering somewhere in the kitchen again forgotten when the knocking and scratching picks up again. “Would you stop stuffing your face with candy for one moment and listen?!”

Jun gawks at you incredulously. “Babe! You know I eat when I’m nervous!”

You will every ounce of patience into your body. You love him. You really do. You don’t want to sacrifice him to the shadow man outside. Even though you could probably out run him. Or trip him. He’s got weaker ankles.

Ugh. Who are you kidding? You’d miss him too much.

Calmly and evenly, you try again, holding out your hand. “Jun, I need your phone.”

“I don’t have it.”

“What do you mean you don’t have it? You always have it!”

He smiles awkwardly. “I left it at home because we were gonna be together all day anyways so I thought I uh…wouldn’t need it.”

You narrow your eyes and then gasp. “Oh my god! You’re downloading that stupid upgrade for your league game, aren’t you?!”

Jun sighs. “Well…yeah, but only because it takes like six hours and again,” he emphasizes with his brows and a wave of his hand over your body, “Love of my life. Right here. By my side. All day. Who else do I need to call?”

“I don’t know…maybe the police?! In case of an emergency! Like this!”

Jun nods. ”Right…yeah. Lesson learned there.”

You realize you need to get back to the office for the business phone but even if you crawl all the way there, you’d be visible for a brief portion of it. Tears spring to your eyes in both frustration and fear. You bury your face in your hands and Jun loops his arm around your shoulders. “Hey,” he says softly, “We’re going to be okay. I promise.”

You lean into his embrace. All the frustration and anger peeling away to the reveal the very raw terror beneath. “I’m sorry for being so mean, Junhui,” you sniffle, pressing harder against his chest, “I’m so fucking scared right now.”

“I know,” he wraps his arms tighter, “I know. Me too.”

“I love you.”

“Now you’re scaring me.”

A little reluctantly amused nose exhale is all he gets in response.

With Jun’s encouragement and warm touch that never wavers, he convinces you to make a run to the back office where the phone is located, and he locks the door from the inside. You make a frantic call out to emergency services and are forced to sit tight wait for them to arrive - both too nervous to do much more than share the single desk chair and huddle together anyway.

The cops find nothing aside from some scratches near the doors but the entire property was clear by the time you emerge from the building. Jun triple checks the alarm and quadruples his efforts on the locks. They determine it was probably just some kids playing a prank or like you had originally assumed, a drunkard out of his mind but probably harmless.

It isn’t until a week later, lazing about in Jun’s bed as you flicked through channels late at night that you got an actual answer to who was outside that night.

Your boss believed your story and hadn’t batted an eye about closing the shop early for the next two weeks - giving you and Jun much needed time off. It was spent much like this, in the apartment with you sitting up against the pillows and Jun laying on his stomach between your legs, long arms wrapped around your waist as he sleeps with his head on your thigh or stomach. You didn’t much care to sleep alone and Jun didn’t argue when you unofficially moved in for the time being.

The reporter’s voice on the news channel catches your attention.

“After multiple reports of local night shift workers being terrorized by an unknown ‘Shadow Man’ police have finally brought charges against a suspect they caught lurking near a downtown pub.”

“Babe,” you pat Jun’s bare back repeatedly, “Wake up and look at the tv!”

He lifts his heads and smacks his lips. There’s probably drool on you where his mouth has been but you ignore it. Jun turns his head at an awkward angle and blinks. “No dummy just roll over!”

He musters the energy and then very ungracefully rolls onto his back to rest his head and shoulders against your front. You wrap your arms around him and rub his chest, coaxing him back to the land of the living. “They caught the guy!”

Jun hums. “What guy?”

“Shh!”

‘....surveillance paid off when officers caught the thirty-seven year old convicted felon pacing in the alley way behind the pub’s back door the staff typically uses to take trash to the dumpsters. He’s been taken into custody though the full extent of charges being brought against him are still unknown.’

Jun’s heartbeat thuds hard & fast beneath your palm.

‘All reports mention taunting scratching, tapping, and knocking against glass and exterior doors and four of the six businesses were able to provide security footage showing an identical shadowy figure pacing in the same pattern near the rear exits and dumpsters. Although his motive is currently unknown, all reports came from vulnerable night shift employees who experienced this horror just minutes…’

Jun slips the remote from your fingers and switches something else on. Something more upbeat.

“Are you sure you don’t want to look for a new job?”

You blink at him. “You want to leave Yo-Nuts?”

Jun snickers. He’ll never be over the company name. It’s the reason he applied.

“No,” he sighs, looking up at you as he shakes his head, “Not really. It’s easy and they overpay us. Plus...we get to work together.”

You smile, tipping your chin down to kiss his forehead.

“I don’t want to leave either.”

Jun shrugs, settling into his new comfy position and he holds your hands. “Then it’s settled. We’re staying. Take that, you Hash-Slinging Slasher wannabe.”

“Yeah…that guy definitely wasn’t applying for a job.”

Thanks for reading!

Halloween 2022 | SVT M.List | Main M.List

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfgyuu, 2019. ©️

#halloween drabbles 2022 #svt fanfic #jun fanfic #svthub #caratwritersclub #kdiarynet #kwritersworldnet #junhui fanfic #svt jun fanfic #wen junhui fanfic #seventeen fanfic #kpop fanfics #lana writes

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dearestones · 2 years

Text

Clothes Maketh Man (Yandere! Azul Ashengrotto x Reader)

Warnings: Yandere character, yandere behavior, manipulation, victim blaming, slight NSFW (nonconsensual touching and kissing).

*Note: Gift for 500 followers, also first NSFW work hahahah.

@lilyalone Request: Thank you so much!!! I’m so honoured to be your 500th follower, could i request yandere Azul (twst) buying stuff and choosing clothes for his darling and maybe a bit of light nsfw after (you don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable)

Silk.

Lace.

Cashmere.

Azul always had an eye for fabric and the price tags that came with them. Even when he had been a guppy swimming and scheming in the sea, he knew that the clothes that humans, beastfolk, and fae liked to wear always bore significance. It was akin to the way some of the high ranking merfolk would wear jewelry or baubles that they either scavenged from shipwrecks or traded from willing landfolk. In envy, Azul would watch some of his wealthier classmates parade around with sparkling gems hanging around their necks or dangling around their tails. Even his mother, hard working as she was, would sigh quietly to herself as she worked herself to the bone making her restaurant a success under the sea.

In the end, the Ashengrottos became a household name, but Azul had grown up before all that. His childhood was spent looking for ways to advance himself, to become a version of himself that far outshone and dazzled brighter than any other merfolk.

And when Azul was selected to go to Night Raven College as one of the very few to enter such a prestigious institution, he had felt that all of his aspirations and goals were coming true. All he had to do, he thought, was expand his business ventures, create more contracts, and succeed academically. He had no need for meaningful friendships. After all, socializing with others was nothing more than a game of chess: all memorized strategies and quick thinking.

Azul would do anything to make himself the most successful and prized student of Night Raven College and soon, the world’s greatest mage of all time.

And that included wearing the finest.

Clothing was restrictive, colors could easily clash. However, Azul was a quick study and even quicker to amass the money and resources to attain the clothes that he needed. It had taken time and the majority of his funds did have to go to the Mostro Lounge, but he did end up buying a closet full of clothes that could put the majority of Pomefiore to shame. Although his clothes were not as expensive as the garments the heir to the Asim family fortune would wear or match the regality of the royalty from Savanaclaw and Diasomnia, Azul felt that he could match up to them.

And then—

When Azul had placed himself in the top ranks of most of his classes—

When Azul had created hundreds of contracts to counteract all of his shortcomings—

When he had forged enough social connections to ensure that he would never be at a loss to whom he could contact for the smallest of favors—

You came stumbling into his life.

Well, you hadn’t exactly stumbled into his life, but you did manage to give off the impression that running around with a flaming cat—weasel? raccoon? gremlin?—monster was a normal, average thing to do in your everyday life. While the chamber of mirrors sustained a lot of damage, Azul was somewhat gratified that he showcased both his offensive magic and willing cooperation to work with the Housewarden of Heartslabyul. Hopefully, that would be enough to convince the Headmage that he deserved the decrepit little building on campus to be an extension to Mostro Lounge.

But then you were made Prefect of the now called Ramshackle Dorm. (Talk about a horrible name. First impressions were everything and the Headmage was hardly doing you any favors by assigning you to that dump).

And then you managed to talk Riddle into relaxing.

And then you managed to teach Leona that he was more than his status as the second born son.

And then you managed to outsmart him.

Him!

And if that wasn’t bad enough, all of his contracts had been turned into dust, he could no longer operate on his old modus operandi, and—and—and—

You were interesting. You tamed the many Overblots that came after him.

You were smart. And witty. And clever. And—

You were everything Azul was not.

Without even trying, you managed to ensnare the love and acclaim of most of the population of Night Raven College. That usually wasn’t such a terribly hard endeavor: all you needed was an insane amount of precision over your magic, infinite potentiality of both magic and imagination, or a reputation that expanded outside of the borders of the college. However, you had none of those requisites. You were merely a magicless human who was an unknown from a world of unknowns.

Furthermore, the connections you made rivaled that of Azul’s own contacts.

It rankled Azul, but then he realized something.

He could use this.

If he could convince you to be friends, it would make his network of connections more consolidated. Plus, even if he could no longer make anemones out of his contractees, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t use your charm to manipulate potential employees into his service.

However, as much as Azul prided himself on creating well thought out plans or preparing for the worst, it was his creativity and adaptability that got him this far in life. There was a reason why the Leech twins still stuck with him after all these years.

So, when he realized that he had… ‘feelings’ for you, he decided to follow the current. Sure, emotions were not part of his arrangement with you, but what was the harm? It would make his interactions all the more believable and who knows… it could turn the tide in how you saw him.

For a time, Azul was content in slowly wooing you. Merfolk courting was slightly different from human traditions, but the principles were the same. Make your lover feel wanted and cared for. Put effort in one’s appearance. Appear helpful and trustworthy. Impart bits and pieces of one’s personality in an effort to appear relatable and desirable to one’s partner.

What Azul really liked, after realizing that the Headmage did little to provide for you, was to see you dressed in clothing that he chose for you.

At first, it was out of practicality. What kind of lover would he be if he allowed the object of his affections go out in public with old clothing from previous Ramshackle Dorm residents and whatever they could scrounge up from friends and merciful teachers? The first time he buys you something, it’s a uniform that fits your proportions perfectly. A part of you is grateful that he got you something so practical and it makes you feel like you actually belong to the school, but another part of you was hesitant to accept it. Was his angle truly to make sure that you were dressed well?

Azul laughed at your hesitance, but he did relent and say that it was both out of the goodness of his heart and the fact that it would benefit both of your images as students of Night Raven College. Eventually, you accepted it, but that was merely the beginning.

Soon, your lover began steadily replacing the rest of your closet with more and more expensive and tasteful items. Gone were the days where you would have asked Ace and Deuce or other friends for clothing that wasn’t threadbare. It was considered a win in your book that you didn’t have to continue dividing your budget between Grim’s terrible tuna habits and your own needs. While you were wary at first concerning Azul’s intentions and his too blatant display of wealth, you conceded and only offered words of thanks and shy touches to express your gratitude.

At first, Azul was gratified to know that you were reciprocating by wearing the clothing that he bought you. The hugs and hand holding was a little too much for his sensibilities, but something akin to pride filled his chest whenever he saw the rest of the school glancing at the two of you in envy. That’s right, he thought. He was the only one worthy enough to be dating the Prefect! And they were responding quite well to his courtship.

Everything was going according to plan.

However—

He began to realize something about himself.

You were such a social creature; you liked going out with your friends and getting into all sorts of trouble. It was no problem to give you aid from time to time, but a slow realization came upon him in slow, but steady increments when he watched you in the aftermath of such varied incidents. It wasn’t abnormal to find you comforting the victims of Overblots or befriending new people, but you looked so lively! Since when were you so receptive to engaging in such casual skinship with men who weren’t him?

Pushing away such thoughts was easy at first.

So what if Ace liked to wrap his arm around your shoulders?

Who was he to judge when he saw that you liked taking naps with Leona?

Or that you thought dancing with Kalim was fun?

You were only doing what came naturally and that was the point! You were his when it came to networking and in advertising his restraurant, you actually had to form those connections. If he stopped you, the future where he would be the greatest mage would never occur. And yet…

That childish feeling of envy permeated his very being whenever he saw you outside of his grasp.

What were pearls, luxurious fabrics, and fame compared to your sweet touch and adoring gaze? Even when you were swimming in his gifts, the rest of the students of the school (and even outside of it if he was paying attention to those Royal Sword nitwits) continued to touch you. To tamper with what was his.

You were his.

Couldn’t anyone else see that?

You wore his pearls. You wore his clothes. You were at his side in public holding onto his arm.

Out of anyone else, why were you also as blind as the rest of them?

It took some time—but the best plans had to be planned in advance—but Azul finally regressed to what his old self had always done when he was faced with mounting envy and the need to claim what he assumed should have been his from the start.

He drafted a contract.

And again.

Time and time again he scanned through the clauses and subsections for any noticeable loopholes, decorated the wording with calligraphy to confuse the eyes and legalese to stun you into compliance. It didn’t matter what the intentions he conveyed to you were, the end result would be the same.

To anyone else, it would seem like a lifetime of servitude.

To him, and one day you might understand and agree, it was a marriage contract.

Don’t worry. One day you’ll celebrate your eternal love with a wedding ceremony, but for now the both of you will be satisfied with this binding contract.

So why were you crying when he told you after you signed the dotted line that you were his forever? Didn’t you agree to be his lover the second you accepted his courtship? If you were truly bothered by the idea of marriage, then why were you wearing the clothing that he picked out for you? You were always willingly at his side before, you just happened to be bound to him outside of a verbal arrangement. Now, he had proof that you were his.

And now, everyone else would know about it.

Did you think that he was going to stop at just a marriage contract? My dear, you need to brush up on your reading comprehension skills. No, there was stipulation after stipulation as his eternal partner.

You could no longer be away from him for more than a few minutes.

If you had to leave for any reason that he deemed suitable, the Leech twins had to accompany you.

Ramshackle Dorm was no longer your home, you would now sleep in his bed and stay in Octavinelle until the both of you graduated.

But most of all, you still had to maintain appearances in public. No matter how much Azul wants to deny it, he’s an octopus and octopi are notoriously good at multitasking. While he’s showing you off, you’re reeling in as many new contractees as possible. And if you ever dare think about alerting anyone about your situation, well…

Jade and Floyd have their uses, you know.

Tonight was just like any other night. Between schoolwork, school organizational meetings, and his duties to the Mostro Lounge, Azul found himself slightly overworked. However, seeing you seated in front of a vanity had his heart thumping faster and his worries dissipating into thin air. You were mostly undressed, only a few undergarments covering your modesty as you fiddled with a few choice pieces of jewelry. You had yet to change in your evening ensemble because unlike the rest of the members of Octavinelle, Azul preferred that you wear as many different outfits as possible.

Only the best for you.

“Good afternoon, dear, I have a meeting with some third year students this evening. Care to join me?”

Azul pretended not to notice that one of your hands that was handling a silver chain necklace had turned into a fist, your knuckles straining with tension.

“Of course, Azul,” you murmured. A practiced line that had been dictated to you after several sessions with the Leech twins. “What shall I wear tonight?”

You heard Azul hum as he stepped towards the closet, a pleasant skip to his step as he did so. You kept your head bowed low and hoped that your captor would find something appropriate for tonight and leave you to your devices until you had to come out and play the part of Azul’s arm candy. It was rare, but sometimes Azul didn’t cling to you.

Tonight was not the case.

After hearing Azul rifling through the various clothing and garments that he set aside for you, the hanger noisily clinking against each other, you heard his dress shoes smartly clacking against the floor as he strode back to you. Unfortunately for him, you refused to look up from your lap. That was fine by him, he liked moving you to do as he wished.

He placed the clothing on the back of your chair, careful not to cause excess wrinkling in the fabric. His gloved hands traced circles into your back before he began caressing your arms and enclosing your hands with his. It took a moment, but he gently coaxed you to relax your fist so that he may withdraw the necklace.

“A good choice.” He pressed a chaste kiss on the smooth slope of your shoulder. “Be a dear and face forward.”

If this were a lighthearted situation, you might have laughed. There was no reason to have you face the mirror. He could have just as easily clasped the jewelry around your neck without any trouble. Still, you did as he bade.

As the silver chain settled into the hollow of your throat, you accidentally caught Azul’s eyes piercing your own. You tried to look away, but a warning touch to your chin had you sitting, rigid and straight forward.

Gazing at you with adoration, Azul continued to pepper your exposed skin with kisses. Most of them were light, almost forgettable. Those were the types of kisses that you would rather receive from Azul nowadays; you could almost pretend that things hadn’t changed in your relationship. That Azul hadn’t become so obsessed with power and your ability to be kind to anyone. However, his other kisses were open-mouthed, sucking, harsh. It was like he had been fasting for days, his favorite food forever in reach, but he didn’t want to satiate his hunger just yet. No, he allowed his hunger to fester and grow until he was breathing heavily behind you, his mouth laving at your skin, his arms and hands grasping and fondling as much of your skin as he could get away with.

Once upon a time, you would have leaned back to accept his touch and reciprocated his love with your own. Now, all you could do was unfocus your eyes as you gazed at the mirror, your hands shaking and breathing shallow. If you breathed in too deep, you thought, you might collapse and moan out his name.

Deeper and needier, his fingers clenched at your skin; red crescents dancing on your skin as imprints of his fingers haunted your body. Above, he nipped at your neck, your ears, any part of your body he could reach, he wanted to mark as his own.

Soon, however, one of hands were circling down your stomach and down and down and down and—

You squeezed your thighs close together, but a growl behind your ear had you forcibly relaxing in the hold that he kept you in. Satisfied now, his fingers caressed the part of you that you didn’t want him corrupting. His touch was soft, but insistent. He stroked up and down while his other hand alternated between squeezing your thigh or rubbing at the fat of your belly.

Just when you knew you were at the brink of embracing the heat pooling into your stomach, Azul withdrew. You bit back a whine, but your captor must have caught wind of your reluctance because he smiled into your neck and drew you up for a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Like I said, I have a client meeting soon, but—” Another kiss, this time at the hollow of your throat where the chain had settled. “—at least we both have something to look forward to.”

His bright blue eyes glittered with mischief, but hunger and fervor swept in its depths.

“Now, before you get dressed—” He leaned around you to root around the vanity until he found what he was looking for. A makeup kit. “—how about some makeup?”

You could only nod in submission.

Clothes maketh man, but what was Azul but a monster playing in a human disguise?

DISCLAIMER: I do not condone yandere behavior outside of fictional settings. Please don’t mistake the actions of fictional characters displayed in works of fiction to be considered harmless in real life.

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TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

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