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whatsaninterestingplacethisis · 5 months

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Flower Boy

Imagine

Nico Hischier x Latina!Reader

Synop: y/n a bitter florist, notices the foreign man that always stops by her work once a week.

a/n: Shy Nico + reader who hates love bc she’s never been in love before?

cw: cussing

Being a florist didn’t really require much work, depending on the day you could be held in the back or on dreaded days in the front left to socialize with people.

There are many types of people who buy flowers in person: 1. Spouses who think of their significant other 2. Spouses who forgot a special date for the significant other 3. Birthdays or house warming gifts etc.

Depending on who came into the small shop, it set the mood for the small talk. Spouses who were stressing about a forgotten anniversary kept silent. Spouses who bought a bouquet of roses wouldn’t stop talking about their ‘honey bun’.

The silence was always preferred over the “my girlfriend this” or “my boyfriend that”. Nobody asked, just take the goddamn flowers to your ‘sweetie pie’.

Lord knew you weren’t getting any flowers from anyone else. Probably the reason why you were so bitter. Either way, the rare chance you were gifted flowers, those babies would die within a week.

Ironic, working at a flower shop only to neglect the ones at home. Not that you had any at the moment.

Anywho you knew every time a fine man that walked into that door was most likely taken. Including the brunette with a backwards cap on scanning the sun flowers. He was too handsome to be single you thought.

You were gawking at him until he started to walk up to the counter.

“Hi, I want a sunflower bouquet but I’m not sure what else to add. Could you help me out?” the brown eyed man asked with a friendly smile

“No problem” you replied with a customer service smile. You walked outside the counter and helped the guy with the arrangement.

“How does this look?” You turned around with the finished design.

“It looks amazing, I really appreciate the help. I don’t know much about flowers but these look great.”

“That’s why im here to help.” You said with a half ass smile as you hand him the bouquet.

“That will be $32” Flowers were expensive too.

“Thanks again, these are going to make my mom smile.” Well that was different, the bouquet were for his mother and not his girlfriend.

“I hope she will.” You said with a genuine smile this time, a green flag noted for the man who buys his mom flowers.

Next week you were in the back, finishing up on bulk orders the shop needed for the following week.

“Hey y/n could you stand in for me a bit I need to take this call, pretty please?” Your coworker Ash who was working the front disrupted your silent shift.

“Sure” the call was probably about their cat, it had some medical issues lately as Ash had rambled on about.

Luckily no one was in the front when you took over and the call wouldn’t have taken too long. But you spoke too soon as the bell rang on the entrance door.

Lo and behold it was the green flag brunette. Instead of looking around he walked straight up to you at the counter.

“Hi” he said

“Hi”

“Did your mom like the bouquet?” You asked

“Huh?” He was almost out of breath when he came in.

“Last week, you were here and bought a sunflower bouquet that I beautifully made.”

“Oh yeah, sorry. Yeah she loved it, thanks.” He quickly said, it looked like he was about to break a sweat

“So what can I help you with today?” You offered your services like usual

“Um well I want to- actually I’m in a rush and- can I just buy a single rose? Is that weird?” He stumbled over his words for the most simplest order

“A single rose it is, not weird at all. It won’t take long.” You turned to grab a single plastic sleeve and walked over to grab the best rose out of the bunch and packed it up.

“Your total is $3.” You handed the rose to Mr. Brunette and softly took his three one dollar bills.

“Thanks…y/n.” He said your name to your surprise

“Uh no problem.” You forget you’re wearing a name tag considering no customer calls you by your name.

He opened his mouth like he was going to say something else but just turned and took big strides out the door.

Next week was organizing the newly ordered flowers on the ground floor. Luckily they came in time before the downpour started. If it was raining it meant less customers were going to show, which of course you didn’t mind.

You were organizing the tulips when the hanging door bell chimed, making you turn to look at the drenched brunette who has always made an appearance every week.

“Hi” you said across the shop in confusion as to why he would walk in the rain to buy overpriced flowers.

“Hi” he tried to air dry his hair with his hands as if he were a golden retriever

“Do you need a towel or something?” You asked as you moved to the back to get one.

“That would be great.” He stood there awkwardly

You handed him a small towel, “Thanks”

“So did the rain inspire you to buy flowers today or?” You joke about his wet shirt and damp hair state

Fortunately, he laughs along. “No, it just surprised me as I walked here.”

“Well then, what can I get you today… I hope it’s not weird to ask for your name considering this is third time I’ve seen you here.”

“Not weird at all, it’s Nico. Honestly any small flower arrangement is fine today, whatever you think looks good.”

“Alright, Nico, I’ll see what I got. Is this for your mom again?” You never initiated small talk with customers but Nico was becoming a regular and you wanted to know if he was single or not.

“No” he laughed “it’s for a girl.” Thunder hit outside as the sound of your dreams being crushed.

“Oh that’s sweet.” Small talk was over now on your behalf. But the arrangement was going to be pretty either way.

By the time you exchanged the money for the flowers it was still raining outside, too hard for anyone to be walking without an umbrella.

“The rain hasn’t slowed down at all, I think there’s an umbrella I can lend you. It’s in the back just give me a sec.”

“It’s okay really, I don’t mind some rain.”

“It’s no problem.” You went in the back to find said umbrella

“I found it, it’s a bit dusty though-“ but Nico was gone and you were left alone with the flowers.

“So did you ask her- Dude why are drenched? You’re making a mess on my floor.” Jack said to Nico who was out of breath.

“It’s raining.”

“Obviously. So did you ask her for her number?” Jack asks his friend who had been pining over the flower girl, as Jack puts its, for weeks now.

“No. I chickened out last minute.”

“More like again. I mean c’mon I still have the rose from last time. What excuse did you say this time?”

“I said these were for a girl.” Nico motioned the fragile and ruined bouquet from the rain and running.

“Oh my god you’re an idiot. She totally thinks you have a girlfriend now.”

“Well I panicked! If I show up one more time she’ll think I’m a weirdo.”

“Maybe go again later today, when the rain is gone, and ask her out officially.”

“What if she thinks I’m a stalker or something?”

“She wouldn’t be that wrong to be honest.”

“Not helpful.”

“Neither is the rainwater on my wooden floors. Clean up before you go and see her.”

Nico leaving you without a goodbye was weird to say the least and rude. He literally vanished into thin air. Soon after he left the sky was clearing up and turning blue again.

An hour passed by and you were done restocking the flowers and ready to take a needed break. Since you were the only one there, you flipped the closed sign with the clock on it to read ‘will return at 2:20pm’ and locked the door. You decided to watch The Crown in the back room while eating your favorite snack. Although, half way into your break you hear fast and loud knocking.

“What the hell man, I swear some people cannot read.” You complained to yourself and went out to see Nico again but this time locked outside the shop.

You unlocked the glass door and opened it ajar for the guy, “hi” you say in a questioning tone.

“Did the flowers get ruined by the rain? Because I did have an umbrella for you, but you kind of just disappeared right after.” Nico was trying so hard to control his fast breathing, but you noticed. He just kept silent trying to hold in his breath.

“Are you okay? Did you run down here? Or is someone chasing you?” You peered outside the door to see anyone that could be possibly chasing him but no one was out of sorts.

“Can I come in?” he finally says something

You side eyed the closed sign and looked at your watch, there was a little over five minutes left of your break, but whatever right?

“Anything for my favorite customer” you stepped aside to let him in before closing the door again.

“So be honest with me, the flowers are ruined right?” You asked knowing you were 90% right.

“Yeah, sorry, they are.”

“To be expected. Well I can make you the same ones, not free though, I did advise you to take the umbrella.” You didn’t want to sound mean but you were right and Nico knew that.

“Actually, can I get one that you would like, if someone gave you flowers?” This was not a shocking request considering other boyfriends that come in ask the same thing because they don’t know what their girlfriends like.

“No problem.” You always had the same bouquet in mind for this request, very simple and easy to care of, but a sight to see nonetheless.

“Here you go, don’t ruin these ones now.” You joke, hoping it would land and it did with Nico’s smile as proof.

“Hopefully your girlfriend likes them.” You say flatly before turning to clean up the scraps of the arrangement.

“Actually” he whisper yells before you turn around completely. He passes the flowers back to you, with a note of his own with his number on it.

You looked down at the flowers and catch the note, “I thought you had a girlfriend” you asked looking at the man across from you.

“No, I don’t I gave the rose to my friend, he still has it.”

“Oh…?” You say in confusion on what he was trying to say.

“Oh we’re not- he’s just a friend- I’m- this is my way of asking you out and I’m doing a horrible job, sorry”

“So the first sunflower bouquet wasn’t for your mom?” You were totally confused.

“No those were actually for my mom. The rose, wasn’t for anyone, I just wanted to see you again. Sorry if that’s weird.”

“And today’s flowers?”

“Another excuse to see you again.”

You started to smile and almost laughed at his stumbling of words “I see”

“I was supposed to ask you out earlier today but I backed out and now I’m here again.” He says with a nervous smile patiently waiting for your response.

“Thanks Nico, you’ll get your answer when I get back home.” You slyly say before placing the flowers in a vase of water.

“Okay, have a nice day.” He said with zero confidence as he walked out the shop thinking he completely screwed up.

You got home later and set the flowers on your counter, taking the hand written note with you to your couch.

Flower boy (nico)

Hey flower boy, I think I have your answer. Also I think it’s really sweet to give your friend flowers!

#nhl imagine #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #latina!reader #jells🪼imagines #homies deserve flowers too

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holy-hysteria · 1 year

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“I’m Here for You, Doll.” || tlb David x Reader

A/N: Hey guys. Depending on how well this does and everyone’s opinion on it i’ll most likely make a part two. Also, if you like this feel free to make send me a request. I’ll right for pretty much any slasher. Enjoy!

————————————————————————

There it was again. That feeling. The feeling of someone watching you. Watching your every move.

The feeling had plagued you for the past couple weeks. Walking home and around town became an anxiety inducing task. The fear of someone lurking, ready to nab you at any moment lurking in the back of your mind. But the feeling wasn’t nearly as potent as it was when on the board walk. You had moved to Santa Carla about two months prior, ready to start your life. You found a job at the diner on the boardwalk that paid extremely well and cheap apartment that was fairly nice. You enjoyed life and has little cares— until a couple weeks ago.

They came in while you were working the evening shift, hooting and hollering as they sat in one of your booths.

“Evening, what can i get you guys?”

You had approached the table without really even giving the group a once over. Look up from your note pad you finally took the time to take the men in. Black leather. And a lot of it graced your vision. Three blondes and a brunette. Oh shit. This was the biker gang your coworkers had been telling you about.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts you direct your attention back to your job as you waited for their reply, but nothing came. Instead, they ignored you. Giving you a sideways glance before heading back to their conversation.

Huh. Okay then.

“I’ll give y’all a minute then,” you deadpanned as you turned around to head behind the counter. You had better things to do with your time then dote on a bunch of pricks. Grabbing a rag you began to wipe the counter off, filling up the time. You watched as you hand made circular motions against the linoleum top, occasionally scrubbing at a stain left by a mess child. Then you felt it. Turning to face the group of men again you met the owner of the piercing stare. He was blonde. And not a natural blonde either. Bleach blonde. Not only that he had a short mullet and wore what looked to be multiple heavy coats on top of each other, along with leather gloves. His state was ice cold, making you wonder if they had been trying to get your attention and were becoming impatient. The strange thing was, he was the only one staring.

Setting the rag down you made your way from behind the counter and back to their booth while shooting the blonde an apologetic smile, hoping you hadn’t made him wait too long.

“I’m sorry about that, are you guys ready to order?”

Even with your apology and your inquiry to their needs, his glare didn’t diminish.

“Nah babes, we’re good. Just gonna sit here for a while okay,” replied a different blonde that looked strangely like a copycat of Dee Snider.

“I’m so sorry but you can’t just sit here without ordering. So either get a water or something, otherwise you’ll have to leave,” you replied in your best customer service voice.

“Look we said we didn’t want anything to leave, k?”

What the fuck, is he deaf? You head been here since 5 this evening and it was now approaching midnight, closing time, and you’d be damned if some stuck up kids were gonna keep you from going home.

“I said get out if you’re not getting anything. You deaf or something?” All politeness was gone from your voice as you spoke. The group then turned to you with a look of shock on their face. But that expression didn’t last long as they began to laugh at you.

After giggling like a group of little girls for a good 3 minutes, they picked theirselves up and left, all while that blonde still stared at you.

That had been two weeks ago. And your intuition told you that group was the reason for the constant feeling of being watched. Maybe you should have just gotten your boss to kick them out instead. If you had done that, maybe you wouldn’t be looking over your shoulder every few seconds while your hands griped your keys right i between the spaces of your fingers.

• • •

Your eyes scanned your surroundings as you made your way for the door of the dinner. It was supposed to be your night off, but your coworker need someone to come in and cover the last few hours of their shift and you were the only willing to take it. You push the door as you walk in, watching as your feet carry you across the checkered floor into the back.

Clocking in and grabbing your apron, you swing the door open walking out into the dinning area. Grabbing your pen and paper, you begin to walk to behind the counter as you hear the chime of the front door.

“Evening! Have seat where you’d like and i’ll be with you in a min-“

Turing around, your greeting to the new customer is cut short. It’s him. The guy whose state has been haunting you for the past two weeks.

A smirk graced his features as he relished in the unease that was undoubtedly shown on your face. Without breaking his stare, he made his way to a corner booth in the back of the dinner.

Your mind was racing a mile a minute. Why was he back here? What does he want?

You swallowed your nerves and made your way to his booth.

“What can I get for you?”

“Water, unless you’re gonna kick me out again,” he smirked.

“Did you come here for a water or to be another rude customer?”

“Neither actually.”

What? Then why the fuck is he here?

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you contemplated his response.

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m here for you, doll.”

#tlb x reader #tlb david #tlb imagine #tlb fanfic #tlb x you #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys david #the lost boys x reader

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cielcreations · 4 months

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Ending 5: Made With Love (Dead Plate)

Trigger Warning: Cannibalism at the very end. Also a bit of mature content. Nothing too graphic, just grinding, but it's still there so if you don't like, ignore.

"Oh, wow, you actually showed up for training." The man said in a deep, gruff voice.

"On time, too!" The energetic man smiled.

"Barely." He sighed, putting one hand on his hips, "This is a highly sought after position, Rody. Be grateful you're even getting the benefit of being told how to do your job. Your resume showed many... many jobs in the service industry, so I assume you already have this down." He sighed again, "Though, I am choosing to ignore the rate at which you got new positions."

"Hey! Having 28 service industry jobs over the course of seven years is pretty impressive when you think about it, Vincent!" Rody smiled sheepishly.

"And even less impressive when you think about it for five more seconds." The chef groaned, crossing his arms over his chest, "But with those jobs, you likely already know how to seat customers. Keep in mind how many people are dining. You don't want a large group crowding around a private area. Once they're ready, they'll put their menu down and you'll go check on them."

Rody grabbed a menu, reading through it, "'What we're serving today?'" He read aloud, questioning.

"Yes, patrons don't pick what they eat, instead we have a strict menu that changes daily." Vincent narrowed his eyes, "You would know that if you read the interview."

"I, uh, skimmed it..."

"Hm." The chef hummed, unimpressed, "Once you have their meal ticket, bring it to the marker between the window and the door, that'll send it to the kitchen. The cooks will start working on whatever order you have right away, but keep in mind they prioritize cooking the dessert, side, meal, and appetizer. In that order. Do not pester or distract any of the cooks if it's taking too long. Once the order is ready, you'll find it at the window to then serve to the customers. They'll ask for more after their appetizer, so do not make them wait too long. Once they're ready for the bill, go behind the counter to check them out. Once they're done with their meal, make sure to clean their table. I don't want guests thinking we leave messes out in the open. The garbage is in the kitchen, right next to the back door. Take the trash and bring it out to the alley behind the kitchen to throw it out."

"Got it!" Rody nodded, taking it all in.

Vincent then took a menu and handed it to the redhead, "Here's a menu. Make sure to study it. Now that you know the basics, make sure you do a good job. I don't want our customers thinking we're anything less than professional."

"But, I'm not-"

"Exactly." Vincent waved him off, "If you need me, I'll be in the back. Good luck."

With Vincent in the back, Rody cleaned off the tables and began his shift. He made sure to seat and smile at the customers, taking their orders and sending it off to the chefs like it was nothing. He cleaned and bused the tables, making sure to take out the trash when needed. He mainly kept his head down the first day, that way he wouldn't get in any trouble and Vincent wouldn't feel the need to either yell or fire him for messing up.

He finished cleaning the last table, washing the dishes, and taking out the trash one last time.

"Rody." Vincent called.

The redhead stiffened a bit but turned around, "Yes?"

Vincent held out a plate, "Green Onion Rolls."

Rody stared at the plate, "...What about them?"

The chef sighed, "Take them home. We had leftovers, the food is for you."

"Really?!" Rody exclaimed excitedly, smiling, "Thank you! Do we have a to-go box or something?"

Vincent looked around. He took an empty box and slid the plate inside it, "It's not a to-go box, but it will make do."

The redhead smiled at the chef, "Thank you, Vince!"

He then went back to his apartment. Once inside, he sat on the couch, reaching for the phone. He dialed her number, waiting. When all he got was the phone ringing, he sighed. Guess she's busy. He thought. He opened his box and stood up, walking to the utensils drawer. He took out a fork, eating the Green Onion Rolls.

"Wow!" Rody exclaimed, smiling brightly, "I'll have to thank Vince again, these are amazing!"

He ate them all and went to bed.

***

"Sorry I'm late..."

"'Sorry?'" Vincent repeated as he turned around, slowly looking up from his papers, "Sorry doesn't cut it, it's only your second day and you're already-" He stopped himself, eyes widening as he finally faced Rody, "-Why do you look like that?"

"I, uh, thought biking through the rain would dry me as I go..." Rody explained, standing on the porch as he squeezed the water out of his shirt, "Turns out? It soaks you faster."

Vincent took a deep breath. He grabbed Rody's wrist, dragging him inside and to his office.

"Sit." Vincent demanded, the redhead doing so. The chef took out two towels, wrapping one around Rody's shoulders, using a smaller towel to begin to dry off his hair, "Dry off. You can't be seen by customers looking like this."

Rody hugged the towel more around his body as Vincent continued to dry off his hair.

"You do know umbrellas exist for a reason, yes?"

"I don't own one!"

The chef widened his eyes, pausing his movements. He seemed to process the words before continuing to help dry him off, lowering the towel to the back of his neck, "I'll give you mine for the ride back. Make sure this doesn't happen again."

"Oh, uh, thanks! But-" The redhead tilted his head back to look up at Vincent, "-how are you gonna be getting home without it?"

"I live here."

"...Like, in the restaurant or-?"

"My apartment is upstairs." He pushed Rody's head down, continuing to dry it.

"Oh." The redhead blinked, "That makes a lot more sense now."

"Is there a problem." Vincent asked, the last word a bit harsher than the rest.

"Nah, it's just... isn't that worrying?" Rody looked up again, "Like, if something happens to the building, it's all gonna be gone."

Vincent dropped the towel on his face, earning a squeak, "If you have enough time to talk nonsense, then you're ready for work."

Rody laughed and moved the towel off his face. He quickly dried the last little bits of his hair and smiled at the chef, "Thank you."

"No need to thank me. It's only appropriate. I can't have customers thinking I find that acceptable."

The redhead nodded and folded the towels, placing them on Vincent's desk, "Well, still, thank you."

He walked out of the office and readied himself for work before seating the first people who walked in. He seated everyone, took their orders, served them, cleaned the tables, and checked people out, being able to balance it out very easily. Eventually, when everyone had left, he took out the trash, throwing it away in the back alley before coming back inside. He saw Vincent, staring at the chefs, walking over.

"Hey, Vince, can I ask you something?"

"It's Chef." Vincent corrected.

"Right, uh, Chef, can I ask you something?" Rody once again questioned.

"I doubt you have this much free time to be asking me so many questions, on your second day, no less."

Rody ignored his quip, "Why do you just stand back here?"

"My job is to observe and monitor the chefs. They are to cook my dishes to perfection. If they are to even slightly stray from the way I would cook, I must step in."

"No wonder your food is so good!" The redhead smiled brightly.

Vincent didn't say anything, merely raising an eyebrow.

"Your food was delicious! I've never tasted something so good! It filled me up and made me crave for more!" The redhead giggled, "No wonder you're an amazing chef, your food makes me feel warm inside!"

A light pink dusted the chef's cheeks as he looked away, "...Get back to work, Rody."

The redhead giggled and nodded, going back out to the dining room. He continued on with his work, seating people and taking their orders once more. After another few hours, his shift ended. He finished cleaning what he needed to and got ready to leave.

"Rody, wait." The redhead turned. Vincent walked over, offering his umbrella as well as a small box, "Inside is Blueberry Crepes. You said you liked the food I made, and there was extra. Here."

The redhead smiled brightly, "Awesome! Thank you, Vince!"

Vincent merely nodded in response. With the chef's umbrella and the food in his hand, Rody went home. Once he got back to his apartment, he once again sat on the couch, looking at the phone. This time, he was a bit hesitant with calling her. However, she once again didn't answer. Guess she's still busy. Rody thought. He changed into his pajamas before sitting on the couch to eat the crepes. He hummed, smiling brightly. They were so fluffy and light, making him smile as he ate the entire plate.

Vincent is such an amazing chef. He thought, smiling slightly, ...So considerate too...

He put the dirty dishes in the sink before laying on the couch to fall asleep.

***

The shift started out normal. He seated who needed to be seated, took the orders to the kitchen, served the food, checked them out, and bussed tables. He was beginning to make very decent tips and was extremely upbeat and happy with his progress. Eventually the trash got full and he had to take it out-

"Ow!" Rody exclaimed, looking at his hand, dropping the bag, "C-Crap-"

"Rody."

The redhead turned, facing Vincent, who was staring at him. He turned panic, "I-I'm sorry! T-There's something i-in the trash!" He looked at his hand, "I-I think it m-may have ripped the b-bag open w-when I dropped it a-a-and-"

"Rody." The chef repeated, taking a step forward.

Blood spilled from his palm, a large cut on it, "I-It cut me! I-I swear, I didn't throw a-anything I-I wasn't suppose to, I-I'll clean it up-"

"You don't need to worry about that. Let me see." Vincent said gently, face remaining calm. He gently took Rody's wrist in one hand, spreading his fingers with the other to see the damage of the wound, "It's a shallow cut, nothing too serious."

"I-I'm sorry-"

"Hush, Rody. This way."

"But the mess-"

"I said you don't have to worry about that. Someone else will clean it." Vincent turned to face the chefs, two immediately jumping to do so. He then led Rody into his office, sitting him in a chair as he carefully applied ointment to the redhead's hand, "You can't be serving customers with this."

"I-I'm really sorry." Rody looked down as Vincent wrapped his hand.

"Accidents happen. It's alright."

"Am I fired?"

"Was this intentional?"

"N-No, of course not-"

"Then there's no reason to be fired." The chef reassured, "Is that why you got freaked out?"

The redhead remained silent.

"Your silence speaks volumes." Vincent stood up, "Stay here for a moment. Collect yourself."

"I-I can-"

"Rody, I'm not asking." The chef interrupted, "You are a little shaken up. That is fine. I can handle the customers for a few minutes. In the meantime, collect yourself. It's alright."

Rody stared at the man before smiling gratefully, "T-Thank you."

Vincent nodded in response. He walked out of his office and Rody sat for a few minutes, calming himself down from his panic attack. When he felt he had calmed down enough, he left the office. He went out to the floor, where Vincent had just finished giving an order to the kitchen.

"I'll tag in!" Rody exclaimed, offering a high five.

The chef rolled his eyes, but let out a small chuckle, gently tapping his hand against the redhead's, "Good. You're feeling better. I'm terrible with customers."

"Never would have guessed." He said sarcastically.

Vincent chuckled once more before disappearing into the kitchen. Rody finished his shift and cleaned everything up. Once he was sure everything was ready for tomorrow, he went into the kitchen to bid his goodbyes. Vincent gave him a plate of Squid Ink Pasta with Shrimp, Rody thanking his profusely. He went home once more, sitting on the couch. He stared at the phone for a minute.

Should I call her? Rody thought. He hesitated but did. He dialed in her number and, with every passing digit, he couldn't help but hope she... wouldn't answer. He didn't want her too, which felt odd when a few days ago, he would have begged her to answer his calls. When she didn't pick up, he sort of sighed in relief. She must be busy. He sat back into the couch, taking a bite of the pasta.

Rody smiled brightly, eating the entire portion, "Man, I totally have to get something to properly thank Vince for all this delicious food!"

He watched a little TV before falling asleep.

***

"Who the hell do you think you are?"

Rody wasn't sure what he walked in on. He was working his shift and was bringing in some dirty dishes to take out the trash when he saw Vincent standing in front of another cook, glaring with such hate and malice.

"I-I apologize, Chef-"

"A 'sorry' doesn't fucking cut it, now does it?" Vincent hissed, accenting his words.

Rody shut the door behind him, not wanting customers to hear as he watched the scene.

"Do you think a dish like that is at all acceptable in my kitchen?!" Vincent gestured to the plate.

"N-No, Chef-"

"Then why did you make it?!"

"I-I don't know, Chef, I m-must've-"

"'You don't know?!'" Vincent raised his voice, his burning hate becoming more pronounced in his voice.

"I-It must've slipped my mind, Chef!" The cook managed to squeak out, "S-Some flour had been left near the stove and I-I didn't want to get burnt-"

Vincent put the man's hands behind his back. One of the Chef's hand held the cook's arms in place as the other grabbed the man by the back of his hair. He then shoved the man's face towards the burner stove, keeping it out of reach of the flames, the man squeaking, Rody gasping.

"Don't back talk me in my own fucking kitchen, you damn pig." Vincent growled, "If you plan on being a semi-decent cook, you have no conceivable reason to be scared of something like a stove. If you get burnt, you keep cooking. If you can't follow simple safety regulations, it'd be your own damn fault."

The cook gulped, whispering out, "Y-Yes, Chef."

"I can't hear you."

"Y-YES, CHEF!" The cook yelled.

Vincent hummed. He lifted the man back up and let go, "Get the hell back to work." He demanded before turning. His eyes met Rody, the redhead staring with... awe.

Vincent walked to the back corner of the room to once again watch the cooks, Rody moving to stand beside him, "What? Are you going to tell me how what I did was wrong?"

"Are you single?"

"P-Pardon?!" Vincent exclaimed, his composure breaking. He coughed into his hand, quickly regaining it, "W-Why do you ask?"

Rody giggled, smirking, "Was wondering if that's how you treat your lady~!"

"I-I beg your pardon?!" Vincent's composure broke once more, his face turning bright red.

The redhead laughed before he waved his hand around, "I'm teasing, I'm teasing!" He giggled, "I mainly ask because I wanted to know a bit more about you! You must be a ladies man, right? With owning your own restaurant and all?"

"I-I suppose I am..." Vincent cringed.

"So, do you plan to settle down? Maybe have a wife and some kids, hire a manager to run the place?"

"...This is me settling down. I do this for myself."

"You still didn't answer my question."

"What?"

"Are you single?" Rody hummed, smiling.

"...Yes, I am." Vincent admitted, "And no, I don't wish to have a wife."

Rody widened his eyes a bit, "...You bi or something?"

"If you must know, I label myself as gay." Vincent blushed, "Are you satisfied with knowing my nonexistent love life?"

"Yep!" Rody stood in front of Vincent, winking as he smiled slyly, "Cause now I know I might have a chance!"

Before Vincent could respond, the redhead quickly moved to clean his dishes and get back to work. He finished his shift and went to the kitchen. Vincent had a proper to-go box ready for him, the Chef giving it to him and turning away, face still a light shade of red. Rody giggled, winking once more before leaving. He got home and opened the to-go box.

Strawberry Shortcake.

The redhead happily ate the food before turning on the TV. He then grabbed a magazine that was dropped off with the daily newspaper. He browsed through it and looked at all the ads before he widened his eyes. Oh, that's it! That's what I need! He thought. Rody shut the TV off, grabbed a marker, and circled it before laying down on the couch.

He looked at the phone. He reached out before stopping himself, shaking his hand as he closed his eyes.

She's probably busy, and I don't care. Rody thought, falling asleep.

***

The next two days were uneventful in terms of work. Rody and Vincent continued to talk between shifts when they could, the redhead smiling every time and standing a bit closer each time they did talk. Vincent didn't seem to mind. In fact, his stiff posture was loosened as they talked. His shoulders would slump, he wouldn't look so stern. He still tried to maintain a blank face, but he couldn't help the occasional smile that fell on his lips. Rody was sent home with a Croque Madame and a Lemon Tart the previous two days, which he ate and made sure to praise Vincent for.

However, the third day, Rody went into the kitchen and Vincent wasn't there to give him a plate of food. In fact, Vincent wasn't there, period. He looked around, even knocked on his office door. The Chef just wasn't there. He sighed. Granted, he wasn't owed any food, but he did appreciate the food and he did want it, simply because he loved Vincent's cooking.

No matter, he went home and got changed, beginning to think of what to order offline. However, the phone started to ring.

Rody answered, "Hello?"

"Rody?" The deep voice on the other sighed asked.

"A-Ah, Vince!" The redhead cleared his throat, smiling, "Hi! What's up?"

"Are you free tonight?" Vincent asked.

"Huh?" He blushed.

"I'm hosting a dinner party at my apartment and was checking if you're available."

Oh, that's what you meant. Rody thought, frowning a bit, "Yes, I am..."

"Good. Be here in the next few minutes. Oh, and, I..." Vincent trailed off.

"Vince?"

"I apologize."

"For what?"

"I... I disappeared before you came into the kitchen and I wasn't able to give you a plate of food. I apologize."

Rody smiled, He remembered? "It's fine Vince-"

"No, it isn't. I... I like cooking for you."

The redhead blushed, "...Well, I like eating your food."

"Good, you'll have plenty of it tonight."

Vincent hung up and Rody chuckled. He put the phone down changing to a more casual outfit before going back to the restaurant. Vincent was waiting outside, the chef holding out his hand to the redhead. Rody was confused and placed his hand on the Chef's. The man gently intertwined their fingers and led Rody inside the restaurant. The redhead blushed as he was pulled along up the stairs and to Vincent's home.

"Wow, this place looks..." Rody took everything in, from the bright red couches and loveseats, to the triangle coffee table, to the cow hide rug they stood on. He smiled awkwardly, "No offense, but stick to being a chef."

"Excuse me?"

"Wait, I thought you said this was a dinner party?" Rody changed the subject, "Where are the other people?"

"They will arrive shortly. I-" Vincent looked away, "-wanted you to get here first..."

Rody blushed. Vincent led him to the couch and had him sit before leaving to the kitchen to grab some plates. When the Chef returned, he was balancing three plates; a plate of escargots, a cheese plater, and deviled eggs. Rody smiled brightly and happily took a couple of eggs and a bit of cheese, smiling brightly as he ate. Vincent smiled softly as he watched other.

"Your food is so good!" Rody smiled brightly, "I could eat it forever!"

Vincent smiled, "I'm glad."

Before they could continue, the doorbell rang. Vincent sighed before he stood up, going to the door. He allowed the people in, Rody watching as the people came in. He stood up, the people coming in and beginning to mingle. The redhead, feeling nervous and out of place, moved to stand in the corner as Vincent left to get some wine and champagne for everyone. The redhead stood to the corner, looking over the rewards Vincent had gotten.

"Is that-? Hey, Rody!"

The redhead turned around. A tan man with dark brown hair walked over, smiling brightly.

"Uh...?"

"It's me, Richard!"

Rody stared.

"From econ? College? You were majoring in hospitality, right?" The man offered.

"Oh, y-yeah, hey!" Rody exclaimed, "S-Sorry, college is kinda... fuzzy, I guess?"

"I stopped seeing you after awhile, did you switch majors?"

Rody stiffened a bit, before smiled awkwardly, "You must be thinking of someone else."

"Huh? No, it was definitely-"

"Not me. You're thinking of someone else."

"I could have sworn-"

"You're thinking of someone else." Rody hissed before stepping away, "I need to piss."

"Huh, wait, Rody-"

The redhead pushed passed the man, going into the kitchen. He went into the kitchen and then into the connecting hallway, walking down it. He pushed the door open and walked inside, closing it behind him. He leaned his back against it, sighing and shaking a bit. Rody took a deep breath and looked up before gasping.

"O-Oh, crap, this is not- wait..." Rody blinked, staring at the scene in front of him, "...This is Vincent's room... I wonder if I can find anything interesting!" He giggled.

The redhead looked around the room. At the back corner, there was a desk with some paperwork. It looked like it was for the restaurant, but the handwriting was barely eligible. He hummed before he looked at the typewriter, seeing Vincent must've been typing out recipes. The shelf beside the desk was filled with books and the Chef's diploma was resting on the top. He walked towards the bedside table, opening the drawer.

A key? Oh, the freezer key! He thought, putting it in his pocket. He closed the drawer and turned towards the window.

"Looking for anything specific?"

[TW: Mature part here. Again, it's just grinding, but still, don't like, don't read.]

"AH!" Rody turned around, seeing Vincent, "Ah! Vincent, you scared me!"

"You didn't answer my question."

"I-I, um, was looking for the bathroom?" Rody smiled awkwardly, shrugging.

"Uh huh?" Vincent stepped closer, Rody stepping towards the window, "And when you realized this wasn't the bathroom, you didn't leave?"

"Well..." He trailed off, "Would you believe me if I said I had short term memory loss and got distracted?"

"Not a chance." The Chef chuckled, now in front of him.

Rody smiled, one hand dancing on Vincent's shoulder, "Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to get to know you on a more personal level?"

"That's more believable. But I would think you're crazy." Vincent placed his hands on the redhead's hips.

"Didn't you already know that?" Rody teased, leaning towards him as his arms wrapped around Vincent's neck.

Vincent leaned forward, gently pressing his lips to the other's forehead, then his ears, then his neck, "Yes, but I don't believe I know the extent."

Rody shivered as the Chef kissed and sucked at his neck, "W-Want to find out? H-How crazy I am?"

"More than you know." Vincent pushed his leg between Rody's.

The redhead moaned as he leaned into him. He glanced out the window and widened his eyes. He gently pushed Vincent back.

"Is something the matter? Did I-"

"S-Someone's out there."

[End of Mature part.]

Vincent stared at the redhead for a moment before looking out the window. He narrowed his eyes and sighed, looking at Rody, who stared at the shadow of the figure, "...Why don't you go home?"

"Oh, uh- w-wait, what about the party?" Rody looked at the other.

"It's over. It was more of a work related party. Marketing and such. You just made it more bearable." Vincent offered his hand, "Come, I'll see you out."

Rody blinked before he smiled, nodding, "S-Sorry about f-freaking out."

"It's only natural. I'll deal with it." Vincent reassured.

They walked to the front door of the restaurant, where Vincent stopped. He shut the door behind him as the two men stared at each other. Rody hesitantly leaned forward, Vincent following his lead. It was a small kiss, nothing to major, but it made the redhead's heart burst into butterflies as they kissed. When they pulled back, Rody smiled brightly and blushed at the Chef, who smiled softly back.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Rody."

"See you tomorrow, Vince."

***

Rody came into work the next day, heart racing, a smile as bright as the sun resting on his face, butterflies fluttering in his stomach and chest. He set up the tables and did all the cleaning he needed to before going into the kitchen. He didn't see Vincent anywhere. He walked to the Chef's office and knocked, hearing no response. He was confused before remembering the freezer key in his pocket. He was curious as to what's in it...

He opened the freezer door and walked inside. Rody looked around it, seeing blood. It wasn't too abnormal, it was from the animal meat.

At least, that was the assumption.

Rody saw something sparkle. He turned his head to the meat grinder. He blinked, walking towards it and picking up a golden locket. He widened his eyes, opening it to see...

Him.

Him and her.

Him and Manon.

"What..."

THUNK!

***

Rody fluttered his eyes open, confused. He was bound in ropes, laying on the freezer floor. He blinked and looked around, not bothering to struggle. His lip quivered as he curled into a ball. The door opened and he looked towards it. He managed to sit up, glaring at the Chef.

"Get away from me, don't come any closer, you-"

"Stop, stop." Vincent cooed as he cleaned a sharp looking knife, "Calm down, you don't have to be doing any of that."

"WAS IT ALL A LIE?!"

The Chef widened his eyes, staring down at Rody.

"All that flirting?! All that bonding?! I-I actually thought y-you liked me..." The redhead's tears began to fall, despite how hard he tried not to, "Y-You played me! I-If you were just g-going to kill me to get to Manon, w-why didn't you just do it?!"

"What are you talking about, Rody?!" Vincent yelled, swinging his knife down, "I was never going to kill you to get to her! I told you before, I have no interest in women! What would be the point?!"

Rody blinked, "...T-Then... why do you have the locket?"

"I forgot to throw it away after I killed her. A simple mistake, honestly."

The redhead blinked again, "So then... the blood? The meat?"

"Was from her. I was going to make you a dish and-"

"Is it done?"

Vincent widened his eyes, staring down at Rody. The redhead stared up at him, green eyes wide in wonder and awe.

"Vince, is it done?"

"...Pardon?"

"I wanna taste it, is it done?! Please tell me it's done! I want it!" Rody smiled brightly, crawling forward, "Please!"

"You... want to taste it...?"

"Of course!" The redhead giggled, leaning into the Chef's legs, "It's your food! You're gonna cook her so well! I-Is it going to be smoked?! Grilled?! Boiled?! What sides are you going to serve with her?! Are you going to serve all of her?! Oh my fucking god, Vince, you have to tell me!"

Vincent knelt down, cupping Rody's cheeks, smirking deviously, "Are you that desperate to eat her?"

"No, it's not about the fact that it's made from Manon!" Rody leaned into the Chef's hand, smile manic, "It's the fact it's your food. I don't care what you cook for me, you could server me horse dong and I'd still eat it!"

"I would never serve you that-"

"The point is-" Rody interrupted, leaning forward, brushing their noses against one another, "-I will eat anything you make me. I want it. So bad. Your cooking makes me feel so warm. It makes me feel so good. I want it so bad, I need it. I need your cooking more than I need to breathe, please-"

Vincent shut the other up with a kiss. Rody moaned into it, kissing back as the Chef cut the ropes around him. The redhead wrapped his arms around Vincent's neck, moving to sit in his lap as he deepened the kiss. Vincent held Rody's hips as they pulled away, the redhead smiling brightly down at the chef.

"How are you going to cook her?" Rody asked, giggling.

Vincent cupped his cheek, "Let me surprise you."

***

[TW: Cannibalism part here. You don't miss out on a lot if you don't want to read.]

Rody sat on the bed, swinging his legs as he hummed a tune to himself. He waited patiently (okay, not patiently, but he still waited!), barely able to control his excitement. The doorknob twisted and he smiled brightly as the Chef walked in, a plate in his hand.

"Is it done?!"

"I wouldn't have brought it up if it wasn't." Vincent chuckled at the redhead's eagerness. He offered the plate, "Dinner is served, Coal-Fired Heart."

Rody smiled brightly, accepting the plate. He took his fork and knife, cutting into the meat. Once he had a small piece, he put it on his tongue, chewing slowly, savoring the food.

"Well?" Vincent cupped his cheek, rubbing his thumb across it.

Rody smiled brightly, genuinely, lovingly, "Amazing as always, Vince."

Vincent smiled, "I will cook for you for the rest of our days." He kissed Rody's forehead.

"I'm holding you to that." Rody giggled, taking another bite.

#dead plate #rody lamoree #rody dead plate #vincent charbonneau #vincent dead plate #rody x vincent #cannibal #cannibalism #tw cannibalism #suggestive

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trick-r-treat421 · 2 months

Text

Chapter 1

Riley’s POV:

I was in a surprisingly peaceful sleep when I felt soft fur against my face then the gentle nudge and lick. It’s the morning ritual I’ve grown accustomed to. “Good morning, Hades.” I groggily say to my three-year-old black German Shepherd who has oh so rudely decided it’s time to get up.

I roll over rubbing the sleep from my eyes to see the soft glow of the morning light filtering in through my window. Picking my phone up from the nightstand it reads 7:26 am October 13th. Sighing, I swing my feet to the edge of my bed and proceed to start our normal morning routines.

A short time later I step out onto my back deck to let Hades do his business, my hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee. I’m immediately hit with a warm breeze and realize just how comfortable it feels. Pulling my phone from the pocket of my pajama pants, I check the weather app where it predicts it to be an exceptionally warm day. Luckily, it’s one of my days off from my boring, dead-end customer service job. It’s been a major stressor for me lately and I’m ecstatic to avoid that hell hole even if just for today.

I mindlessly scroll random apps as I sip my coffee, enjoying the sun’s rays on my pale skin as my boy gets all his overnight zoomies out. Just as I sip the last of the coffee from my mug, he comes running back up sitting beside me, tongue out, panting. “Hey, handsome boy of mine. I know we usually take walks around the neighborhood on my days off but how’d you like to go to the park instead?” I ask, scratching behind his ear, getting only a gruff woof and tail wag in agreement. “Perfect!” I exclaim before we walk back inside.

I spend a few hours working around the house tidying a bit and starting some laundry while singing (ok more like screaming) and dancing around the cozy bungalow I call my home, all while the songs boom through the Bluetooth speakers. Hades tilted his head or huffed at me occasionally from his oversized dog bed in the living room. “You know you love it!” I tease as I pass by, stopping to give him a few good belly scratches.

I quickly shower before stepping out into the steamy bathroom, grabbing one of my oversized towels from the rack and wrapping it around my small frame. I pull my paddle brush through the tangles that are my shoulder-length black hair, then twist another towel around it, pushing it onto the top of my head and retreating to my room. I fall back onto my queen bed, my arms spreading as I lean back, and stay that way for a while, closing my eyes and preparing myself to venture out.

Eventually, I push myself up and go over to my dresser. I pull out a black thong and lace bralette then a pair of black leggings and my go-to comfy, faded, grey Guns N’ Roses shirt I’ve cut into a crop top. After getting dressed, I return to the bathroom to pull my hair into a low loose ponytail, leaving a few strands out to frame my face. I stare at myself in the mirror above my sink, sighing at the sight but I don’t bother putting on makeup. I’m too tired to care and it’s not like I’m out to impress anyone. Dropping my gaze, I push myself away from the counter and head back towards the kitchen to prepare everything Hades and I will need for the park.

Half an hour later we’re pulling into my favorite park. I reach back to clip on Hades’ leash, grab my crossbody bag from the passenger floorboard, and then exit the SUV. We stop to grab the blanket from the back hatch of my grey 2010 Nissan Xterra before making our way down the sidewalk.

As expected, the park was alive with the sounds of nature and people out enjoying the weather. It took us a few minutes, but we managed to find a nice shady spot under a tall oak tree that’s adjacent to the large field where people lounge and play. I release Hades and tell him to stay as I work to spread out my black and white buffalo plaid blanket and begin unpacking for a relaxing afternoon.

It didn’t take long before we got comfortable. I lay on my stomach, my legs bent at the knee, casually swinging back and forth through the air. I’ve got my sticker-covered tumbler and a Tupperware full of fresh-cut fruit (ok mostly strawberries) on one side of me. A book was spread in front of me, my eyes skimming over the pages from behind my oversized sunglasses. Hades had posted up near the edge of the blanket on my other side as he went to town on his large red Kong toy, his travel bowl full of water next to him.

I’d lost track of time, completely caught up in my reading, most of my fruit picked over and eaten. Hades had long given up on his toy and was almost asleep when suddenly he perked up giving a slight huff. Figuring he saw a squirrel or something, I failed to see the large shadow pass over me as a sudden pain shoots into the left side of my ribs and something heavy fell over top of me, Hades darting away from his position. Whatever it is landed with a thud in front of Hades, water splashing everywhere in the process. I quickly began to shake the water from the pages of my book before any damage could be done.

“Ouch! What the fu…” I begin to exclaim, but my words come up short as my eyes fall onto this dazed, dark-haired man lying across me and my blanket.

He slowly pushes himself up onto his elbows, putting his shirtless and heavily tattooed chest on full display, droplets of water sliding down and glistening in the afternoon light. I thank God for these sunglasses hiding my eyes as I gawk at this stranger’s toned body. I shake my head and slowly take in the scene, realizing his long legs are still stretched across my back and one of his elbows rests halfway in Hades’ water bowl.

Eventually, my eyes make it back to his face where I’m greeted with a strong, sharp jawline peppered with the beginnings of some facial hair and mesmerizing deep chocolate-brown eyes. I’m brought back to reality when Hades is suddenly at the man’s side dropping a frisbee I hadn’t even noticed onto his lap. I can’t help but let out a laugh at the situation and the fact I was letting myself get lost in this stranger’s looks, no matter how handsome he may be. “I think Hades is returning your frisbee to you.” I state matter of factly. Despite his size and intimidating looks, he was quite a gentle giant. Thanks a lot bud, so much for protecting me.

Noah’s POV:

I have no idea what happened, but one second I was running full speed and the next I found myself lying flat on my back staring at the brightly colored tree canopy above me.

I let out a groan and begin to push myself up onto my elbows. Feeling something wet on one of my arms, I look over to see my elbow in a water bowl. I begin taking in the rest of my surroundings and find I’m on someone’s picnic blanket. Just then I see something dark in my peripheral vision and the frisbee I’d been running to catch drops in my lap.

I hear a feminine laugh as my eyes dart up, noticing my legs are laid across the back of a petite raven-haired woman who had been stretched out on said blanket. I hear her words as I look down to the frisbee in my lap, then to the big furry black mass standing to my right. That must be whose water bowl my elbow is resting in.

I hurriedly remove my legs and scramble to my knees, the frisbee falling from my lap while putting my hands up in case this dog decides to attack. Again, I hear the sound of her laughter drawing my eyes to her full, slightly red tinted lips. Slowly she sits up crisscrossing her legs in front of her, her crop top riding up a little to reveal a tattoo on her side as she rubs at her ribs. A few more are sprinkled on her arms.

“Don’t worry, he may look ferocious, but he’s really a big baby.” With the motion of her free hand I watch as the large dog returns to the girl’s side and lays against her, eyes closing, tongue out as he soaks up her head pats.

I breathe out a sigh of relief as I sit back on my heels and brush my hands down my star covered sweat shorts nervously and let out a slight chuckle. “Good to know, cause I was about to high tail it out of here and hope—Hades was it?—didn’t catch me!” I respond. “Hey, sorry about all of this, though.” I start as I wave my hand around us.

She lifts her sunglasses revealing stunning icy blue/grey almond-shaped eyes as she takes in the now wet and twisted blanket. Sucking in a breath I try to offer, “My buddies and I were just tossing the frisbee around and I guess I let my competitive nature get the best of me. I wasn’t paying attention, and you see where that got me.”

As if on cue my friends, Jolly and Nick, come jogging over taking in the scene and thankfully ending my nervous rant. “What you mean on the ground beside a pretty lady?” Nick waggles his eyebrows as he smirks before asking, “Are you two good?”

Jolly jumped in with, “That looked like quite a fall, man.”

I chuckle lightly before I answer, “Yeah I’m good, but I’ll probably feel it in the morning.” I clear my throat a little remembering the stunning girl and her dog sitting across from me. “Umm are you okay…?” I ask, pausing since I don’t know her name.

Picking up on the pause she answers, “Riley. Yeah, I think I’ll be okay. Might have a bruise in the next couple of days but I’ll deal.”

A pang of guilt washes over me for hurting her but I give a crooked smile. “I’m Noah, these are my friends Jolly and Folio,” I say pointing to each of the guys.

She nods her head slightly at each of the guys, giving a polite smile and wave. It suddenly becomes abundantly clear we are invading her space, as the awkward silence grows between us all. I move to stand tucking the frisbee under my arm and giving the guys a nod, each taking a few steps back in understanding, Jolly looking over his shoulder to find where our roommates dog, Harper, is playing. “We should probably leave you be, you seemed to have been enjoying your reading when I tripped over you.” I say as I glance down at the abandoned book laid out on the blanket.

Shrugging, she responds with, “I was but I’d lost track of time, and we actually need to be heading out.” With that she stands, Hades whining slightly, and begins picking up her belongings and packing them back into her bag.

I look down at the mess I’ve made of her space, everything scattered about, so I quickly lean down, picking up her book. I offer it to her as I ask “Are you sure you’re alright? Can I help you carry anything?”

She takes the book, my eyes drawn to where she chews on her lip, thinking it over. After some hesitation Riley nods. “You really don’t have to, but I might need a hand with the blanket. I can never get them folded up easily on my own, and I’ve got to be able to hold his leash as we walk.” She motions over to Hades who tilts his head sideways at the mention of leash.

With a small chuckle I call out a “heads up!” to Folio, who’s now walking away with Jolly before tossing him the frisbee and reaching to pick up the blanket. I shake it out then do my best to fold it before draping it over my arm as she picks up her remaining belongings.

After a moment and her commands to Hades, we walk back towards the parking lot in another slightly awkward silence. Coming to a stop at the back of an Xterra, she starts digging for her keys and unlocks the doors. She takes Hades to the back passenger door allowing him to jump inside before unhooking his leash and telling him to stay then returning to the back where I stand.

“Thank you for helping with that and walking me back.” She says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and staring down at the asphalt before taking the blanket and placing it in the back hatch.

“No problem. It was the least I could do after crashing into you like I did.” I shrug, earning a small, cute giggle from her.

After another moment of silence she shifts on her feet, bringing her eyes up to meet mine and extending her hand before saying with a playful tone, “Well, it was nice to meet you Noah, wish I could say it was under better circumstances though.”

I take her hand, noticing just how small it feels in mine before lightly shaking it and saying, “You too Riley.” With that I drop her hand and move to the sidewalk as she walks to her driver’s door. Turning back, I give a salute as she starts the SUV and I head back to the guys.

The moment I walk up, Folio raises his eyebrow asking, “What was that all about Casanova?”

I shrug running my hand through my shoulder-length hair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” They both let out a laugh.

It’s Jolly’s turn to pipe up now, his slight Swedish accent coming through. “Bullshit Noah, you’ve still got a goofy grin plastered on your face and the way you were looking at her… it’s obvious you thought she was attractive.”

Folio chimes in again, “Tell us you at least got her number…”

I don’t bother responding before grabbing the frisbee out of his hands and jogging away. I silently kick myself for not thinking about that. We stay for another hour or so before leaving, my mind wandering to Riley quite often through the night.

P.S. I don't own the rights to any of these photos, they were all found on Pinterest or a Google image search.

I hope you enjoyed this. It's been quite a while since I even tried writing something for others to read so sorry if it's not up to your standards. It may start out slow but I promise there's some good things to come.

Huge shout out to @crimson-calligraphyx for encouraging and helping me with this.

#fanfic #fan fiction #The Worst in Me #noah sebastian #bad omens #nick folio #jolly karlsson #strangers to lovers #slow burn

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holdmeclosebutdontloveme · 1 year

Text

Warning: lactation kink, babies! Not literal babies. In fact, babies don't interact, this isn't for you *3* googoogaga somewhere else.

Intrusive thoughts of Kishibe having a lactation kink and that he founds out there's actually a service that performs that kind of kink. Of course he went, picked a gal with a nice pair of tits to squeeze at with nipples that looks like it would fit nicely between his fingers.

Obviously, that gal is you.

One thing to note with the service is that the women are prepared for mommy and wife roleplays and Kishibe picked the latter.

So, for an indefinite amount of time, you were Mrs. Kishibe whose baby is almost three years old. You have weaned them off from breastmilk successfully for two months now but alas you still produce the same amount of milk such as before.

Enter Kishibe - husband, father, and lactation connoisseur.

"So you have been dumping your milk on the sink behind my back, huh?" You stiffened from the whisper near your ear and felt a hand on top of yours. The other rests on your breast, its fingers pinching your nipple gently but even such attempt have caused a mess.

"Honey!" You feigned your suprise, skimming through the story your customer have requested and expressed shame just like you were supposed to do. "I-I didn't think you'd be home so early."

The cup you filled your milk with have been grabbed out of your grasp. And watched the man drank the entire thing with large and loud gulps.

You observed his Adam's apple bob for each gulp while feeling his fingers tighten around your nipple. His gaze darkens as he looked at you and once his thirst have been temporarily quenched. He opens his mouth, complete with his tongue sticking out and notices white streak of milk that stains it.

Somehow that affected you.

You're not exactly a newbie but it's been a year and a half since you began working at this establishment. You've met a wide range of men and women who all have their spin towards the kink so you don't have a lot of expectations for each customer that chose you as their lady of the night.

And, him, or Honey as he preferred to be called, was a fellow with a demeanor you have met before. Men who are at the top of the foodchain, all intimidating, assertive, and suave.

However, Honey has manage to break you out of your professionalism, bit by bit, and let this kink consume you just like he is with your leaking breasts.

"Thought I'd come home and be with my wife," Honey answers before putting down the cup on the counter. His fingers were still working with your nipple; twirling it, pressing it down to your areola before flicking it all around.

All the while milk spills and rain all over his dark suit.

The pain mixed with pleasure and you buckled your thighs together, while you continue on with the charade. "A-ah, you should've call so I would have started dinner earlier."

"Why cook something else when your body already prepared a feast for me to eat," Honey replies back before turning you around and grabs your other breast; kneading them together.

"Ah!" You moan from the pressure of his rough, calloused palms and felt it massage down to your nipples, tugging them to his direction.

Sprays of milks was becoming more apparent than mere tiny drops that paints his clothes. The same could be said with your skin and felt each droplet rolled down to your panties, wetting its fabric.

Yes, Honey requested that you were bare as possible. So you were left to be modest with just your underwear. But even Madam made sure that its fabric was made of the thinnest of silk.

Such underwear puts you with a disadvantage. Even a tiny spill of your wetness underneath could stick the fabric close to your skin, darkening your underwear entirely with your essence and it seems Honey took notice of it too.

Instead of pursuing your pleasure from your cunt though. Honey cups your breasts, jiggling them in his hands and you watched as he crouch down to face them.

"Those are for the baby," you argue with a meek tone, with a hand to push his face away from your nipple but you succumb to his hot breath breezing to your skin.

It was also a part of your script.

But, fuck, he's hot!

This shit's hot. You're getting heated by the tension throbbing within you, clenching for something to hold onto while your nipples began to feel cold and wet and...

Honey merely smirk before opening his mouth, his tongue sticking out to collect the drizzle of milk that were squeeze out of you. And gulps them all up with a daring look on his face.

"Not like the brat needs it anyways. Besides, I am busting my ass in the company to make sure you two got everything you need. Don't you think I deserve a reward?"

You open your mouth, memorizing what little dialogue you already have but moans and pants have left you breathless. You attempt, of course, and Honey waited for the consent he needed to continue.

So you persist with a nod.

You twitched by the immediate soft lick of his tongue against the tip of your nipple and felt his arm tighten around you, pulling you closer to his embrace. From the corner of your eye, Honey sat down on a chair, probably to nurse from your nipple with ease.

"A-ah! Hng," you moan as he sucks your nipple with vigor while your other breast wasn't left unattended either. You watch his cheeks hollowed, his eyes closed and felt the vibration of his hum against your nipple.

His lashes drip with milk, his lips pursed with his tongue occasionally peeking through to lick each drop that rolls down to his lips. His other hand have soften its sadism, opting to just hold your nipple with loose fingers.

Honey, for the time being, was quiet, only his suckle penetrated through the room while you leaned against the sink, contemplating beyond the pleasure that simmers in you.

The dark bags under his eyes, the wrinkles that sag and accentuate his age. Fatigue was a feature that have sunk deep into his skin.

With a hand raised on top of his head, you just followed what was asked of you. To caress him; to brush off the strands of hair on his forehead and move away the milk that spilled near his eyes. You wouldn't want Honey to get his eye stung from milk, would you?

"Is it tasty?" You whisper.

And Honey responds with a nod, never letting go of your nipple within him. You felt his tongue roll around it, tracing through the creases of your areola.

You even hiss in pleasure by the soft nibble of his teeth, just enough to feel it against you.

Eventually, you rest his head on your forearm with half of his face pressed against your breast and let the minutes waste away as Honey has his fill. While you, on the other hand, waited - excited, pleasured, and terribly enticed by the sensation.

You anticipate for the second half of the script.

The song that inspired this fic *3*

#kishibe x y/n #kishibe fanfic #kishibe smut #kishibe x you #kishibe x reader #kishibe csm #kishibe chainsaw man #Spotify

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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years

Text

don quixote and the classics // bucky barnes bookstore! au

pairing: bucky barnes x bookkeeper! reader

summary: bucky develops a sudden affinity for secondhand books from one specific store, and coincidentally, that store just so happens to employ a pretty, intriguing bookkeeper. from don quixote to the history of Hun empire archery techniques, bucky just wants to see you again.

warnings: swearing, mutual pining, the avengers are meddling assholes but i love it, couple references to my favorite books, and oblivious reader

w/c: 6.5k

prompt 6 by @juicywritinghoard

“librarian desperate to understand what wild phase the other character is going thru rn”

＊✿❀　❀✿＊

when you dreamed of moving to new york, you had hoped your days would be spent glamourously lounging in high-end bars, frequenting gentrified hip indie cafés (because let’s be honest, you can’t escape them these days), and/or getting yourself a sugar daddy.

what you didn’t plan for was working six days a week at a shitty bookstore where you tripped over the loose floorboard behind the counter even after three months. granted, the “shittiness” of it all was quite charming, and the old man who owned the place was probably the sweetest person you’d ever met—which said a lot because you hated old people.

the business had been slaw. as aforementioned, the gentrified millennial-catered cat-café-bookshop-cabaret-bars blew whatever “run-down charm” your store could try to advertise itself as. you spent most of your time abandoning the counter, since it wasn’t like there were customers who needed to purchase things anyway. instead, you’d found yourself lost in shelves of haphazardly organized books (fuck the dewey decimal system), trying to squeeze in new finds (and by new, you meant the battered up copies that the owner’s friends had no more use for) but eventually settling for stacking them horizontally on top of the rows and rows of dusty books.

you’d never admit it, but this place had become your home. sure, it was probably decomposing. and you swore that you saw a squirrel in there once. but you and your single coworker were always treated with baked goods from the owner and paid a reasonable salary. the owner had done so much for you back when you were a naive, freshly moved-in new yorker. he’d fed you when your bills were becoming too much, he offered you a job and made sure you were paid enough, and once, he even let you crash on the cushy chairs in the back when the subway was down and a thunderstorm was raging.

today was like any average day, so essentially a day full of nothing. stevie nicks crooned through the old radio—the owner insisted on CDs—and you hummed along, occasionally singing some of the lyrics you knew. when the bell chimed and you heard the hinges of the door squeak, you yourself let out a squeak.

“uh, hello?” a raspy male voice called from the front of the store. he cleared his throat. “is there anyone- are you guys open? i didn’t see a closed sign or anything and the lights were on so…” he was speaking to nobody in particular, trailing off after he heard no response.

“okay, um, no worries! have a good day,” he called to no one, turning to leave.

“wait! wait, come back!” you huffed as you ran to the front of the store, clutching your stomach to catch your breath. “sorry, i thought i was hallucinating. we haven’t had a customer in a long time.” you winced. “that’s really bad advertising, isn’t it,” you muttered to yourself.

the man laughed. “no worries, i’m enjoying our introduction, actually.” he hesitantly held his flesh hand out for you to shake. “bucky. bucky barnes?” he waited for some sort of recognition to flash in your eyes, or maybe a recoil, or maybe for you to ask him to leave. instead, you took his hand in yours and gave him two firm shakes. he smiled at your confident grip.

“as much as i’m glad you’re enjoying this introduction at my expense—sorry about that, by the way; customer service is not my thing—how can i help you?”

“i’m looking for a book,” he said, eyes flickering around the crowded bookshelves as if he were a little intimidated.

“then you’re in the right place,” you snorted. “sorry, that was rude of me. sorry. do you know what you’re looking for? our organization system is a bit… unique, so i can show you to our different sections if you need.”

“that’d be great, actually,” he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. “do you have anything on… gardening? botanicals? specifically flowers? ones that are native to the east coast would be preferable.”

you smiled, picturing the burly man in front of you curled up on an armchair, scanning pages and pages about delicate, colorful petals and local flora. “we do, actually! come with me.”

the man—no, bucky—trailed behind you, mesmerized by the way you navigated seemingly random stacks of books with such familiarity. you stopped abruptly and he nearly walked into you—and thank god for that, because he probably would’ve run you over.

“here ‘ya go!” you chirped, running your hand over the spines of botanical books fondly. “if it’s not too invasive to ask, but why are you looking for books on flowers? no offense, but you don’t really seem like,” you waved your hands around, “a flower kind of guy.”

bucky chuckled, already immersed in his hunt for the perfect book. “you’re right, i’m not. my friend wanda’s been wanted to start a garden, but she’s always been a city girl. we have a place further out from the city with a good amount of land, so i’m hoping to get her started.”

“that’s so sweet!” you swooned, smiling widely. “you’re such a wonderful boyfriend. god, those are rare.”

“oh no- uh, we’re not dating,” bucky stammered, cheeks flushing slightly as he refused to meet your eyes. his hands froze midair, fingers dancing across the spine of a book. “we just live… together. there’s a lot of us there.”

“ah, so you guys are like fancy outskirts-of-new-york co-inhabitants, huh?” you gazed at the ceiling thoughtfully. “never met anyone like that.”

“well, normal is not a word i’d use to describe myself,” he said with a hint of bitterness. was that right? he was bitter?

you leaned against one of the shelves as you watched him search. when he found what he was looking for, he turned with the book clutched against his chest, giving you a triumphant grin.

“you found one! c’mon, i’ll get you all checked out.”

bucky couldn’t help but watch as your fingers danced across the old register whose numbers on the keys had begun to fade. you flipped the book to the back to check the price. “hey, you got a good deal! five dollars, please.”

he fished for his wallet and handed you a crumpled bill. you smiled and handed him his book. perhaps it was intentional or maybe it was simply an accident, but bucky shivered when your fingertips brushed against his own. “it was nice to meet you, bucky,” you waved cheerfully as he left, a bit reluctant to say goodbye. he held his hand up in parting, walking out the door backward to keep you in his sight for as long as possible, almost bumping into a passing pedestrian who shot him a glare. you giggled.

as he began the walk back to the subway, he flipped through his new book. he smiled to himself. right in the center of the pages was a delicate bookmark, stained with dancing hues of a painter’s watercolor touch.

wanda was overjoyed at bucky’s gift. she seemed to love the secondhand nature of it, claiming “that’s what gives it personality!” bucky agreed that the book had personality, but he didn’t think it was because of its age. it was because it reminded him of the sweet bookkeeper’s smile. unbeknownst to wanda, he’d taken the bookmark out and kept it for himself.

steve’s birthday was coming up, and seeing as wanda couldn’t stop gushing over her plants, the rest of the team had taken an interest to where the book had come from. when living in a hundred-million-dollar complex, something as simple as the concept of paying for a battered-up, used item was a bit foreign.

“you’re back!” you’d exclaimed at the sight of bucky’s smiling face. it was late june, and between his first meeting with you and today’s mission of retrieving a birthday present for steve, he’d stopped by three times already.

“your favorite regular has arrived,” he grinned, draping himself over the counter teasingly to admire your face. you swatted him away.

“you’re my only regular and you know it.” you tapped his nose. “so what are you looking for today?” you came out from behind the counter, taking extra care to skip over the loose floorboard. after tripping over it twice in front of bucky, you were determined to take extra caution.

“something on art, actually.” he looked down at you adoringly as you stood in front of him, head tilted up to meet his eyes as you rocked back and forth excitedly on the balls of your feet.

“ooooh, you’re versatile!” you wrapped your small hand around his wrist, catching bucky off guard, but by some miracle, a wave of courage swept over him and he slipped his wrist out of your grasp and interlocked your fingers with his. if you were caught off guard, you made no indication, but bucky could swear your heart jumped a little.

you weaved the two of you through the shelves once more. the two of you were fully aware that bucky could probably navigate just fine on his own after his multiple visits here, but neither of you would complain about the extra few minutes you’d get to spend together.

as he browsed, you settled into your usual routine of chatting as he searched and you leaned casually against a shelf. “... so first you come in with gardening, and then the next week it’s archery during the Hun empire, and then last week you get two books—which were great picks, by the way; you were very tasteful with the don quixote and thinking of you reading alice in wonderland absolutely made my day-”

bucky blushed. you had been thinking of him?

“-and now you’re here for art? i’ve got to say, i’m extremely impressed, buck.”

he stood up from his crouch, where he had been examining the lower shelves for the perfect book, and held it up to you for approval. this was also part of the routine—he’d pick out a book, you’d inspect it, and if you deemed it a good fit, he’d buy it.

“i love it! mainstreamers of modern art? i never pegged you for a modern art guy, but i see it now. you’re adventurous.” as the two of you made your way through the checkout process, he couldn’t help the thought that’d been running through his mind the past few weeks.

“do you make the bookmarks yourself?

this time, it was your turn to blush. “um, yeah, actually.” you hesitated before handing him his book and meeting his eye. “i’m no picasso,” you tapped on the cover of the book where his art was featured, “but before you started coming, i had a lot of free time. so i started making little bookmarks.”

the loveliest smile you’d ever seen on bucky’s face, or anybody’s face, for that matter, spread ear-to-ear like the flowers you assumed that wanda had successfully been nurturing.

“what is it?” you laughed nervously, tilting your head away from him shyly.

he reached out and took hold of your jaw with a gentle touch. he wasn’t sure where all this courage was coming from. perhaps it was the spirit of capitan america running through his bloodstream. “don’t… don’t look away. don’t be embarrassed. i think it’s beautiful,” he confessed, eyes never leaving yours just as his hand refused to pull away from where it had reached up to caress your face. the two of you were trying to contain your bashful smiles.

“thank… thank you,” you whispered, finding your faces a bit too close for this to be platonic. at this point, you weren’t sure if the “beautiful” bucky had been talking about was referring to the bookmarks or to you. you hoped it was the latter.

the clanging of the bell broke your spell. the both of you jumped back; you pretended to be busying yourself with papers that didn’t exist and bucky’s arms snapped to his side like a soldier in position. a young woman appeared at the door.

“wanda?” bucky revelled, eyebrows furrowing as he took in the figure of a curious customer scanning the store.

“no, bucky. vision decided to emulate me and come all the way down here to terrorize you. yes, it’s me, wanda,” she deadpanned.

“wanda!” you abandoned your nonexistent busywork. “you’re bucky’s roommate? i’ve heard so much about you? how’s the garden coming along? what’d you think of the book? i’m not sure if- i put bookmarks in all the purchased books, i hope yours didn’t fall out! i put a flowery patterned one in there for you,” you gushed, overjoyed to meet a friend of bucky’s and get a glimpse of his personal life which he was incredibly guarded about. oh, and because you had a new customer, obviously.

“bucky’s told me all about you as well! it’s so nice to finally meet you!” you hesitated for a second as wanda wrapped you into a big hug before reciprocating with equal enthusiasm. bucky didn’t care about wanda’s comment as much as he was thrilled to see you get along with his friends.

“and yes, i loved the bookmark,” wanda said, shooting bucky a questioning glance, eyebrows raised. bucky wilted under her knowing look.

“how did you even find me, wanda?” bucky chewed his lip nervously at wanda’s mischievous smirk.

“oh, it was totally an accident. i found this darling store online and i knew i just had to come get steve’s birthday present here. it just so happens that this is the place you’ve been running off to all these weeks! i can’t believe you’d keep this gem to yourself,” she simpered, taking hold of your hand.

“you know, bucky can’t stop talking about this place,” she smiled. “and you,” she whispered connivingly into your ear. you felt your face heat up and hoped wanda couldn’t tell. she could.

“r-really? that’s so sweet of you,” you stammered, eyes flickering between wanda and bucky. bucky looked like he was going to sink into the floor.

you cleared your throat. “so, you said you’re looking for a birthday present? would you like some assistance or are you good to wander on your own?” you deflected, letting go of wanda’s hand when you felt yours begin to clam up.

“well, i see bucky’s already beat me to the art book. i think steve might like a classic though. he’s been trying to catch up on everything he missed when he was under the ice, and i know he’s always had a soft spot for the paperbacks with the pretty colors. you should stop by and check out his collection!”

you narrowed your eyes. “under… under the ice?” you questioned, not sure where this was going and wondering if you needed to call an ambulance and/or schedule a psychological examination for wanda.

“yeah, you- oh, has bucky not told you?” the both of you turned back to look at bucky, who was still frozen in place by the counter with his eyes wide. wanda turned back to you smugly. “we’re here for steve rogers. you know, captain america.”

your mouth dropped as you stared at wanda blankly. you weren’t sure if you were drooling or not, but you wouldn’t be surprised if you were.

“c-capitan america? the real one? a-and are you wanda, as in the scarlet witch? holy shit. and- oh my god,” you panted, eyes wild. “bucky?”

bucky met your eye, apprehensive. “bucky? i’m so fucking stupid. bucky barnes. james barnes. the- the winter soldier?”

bucky flinched, steeling himself for the inevitable. you sounded so afraid, tripping over your words as you tried to say his name. the secret was out now, and he’d have to stop coming to your bookshop—no longer could he tease you, or buy books he didn’t really need, or spend all his spare cash, or help you dust the shelves, or add to his collection of your bookmarks, or-

“bucky, i can’t believe you didn’t tell me, you little sneak!” you ran up to him and slapped his arm playfully. you tugged at your hair. “i’m so blind, aren’t i? you’re wearing a jacket in the summertime. your name is literally barnes. you told me you lived in a fucking compound on the outskirts of new york and i was so caught up in your pretty face to even-”

you slapped your hand over your mouth, eyes widening enough to rival bucky’s own wide eyed stare.

“uh, wanda! you wanted a book?” you rushed over to her side, grabbing her hand and tugging her deeper into the shelves as wanda snuck a look back at bucky, whose face was buried in his hands as he leaned against the counter.

wanda ended up buying 1984. you were a fidgety mess as you checked her out, tucking another one of your bookmarks between the pages. you and bucky didn’t look at each other once. well, that was a lie. your eyes were burning holes into the first edition paperback while bucky snuck glances at the side of your face, watching your concentrated brows and small huff at the sticky keys of the register with a stupid, infatuated smile on his face. wanda elbowed him hard.

“what was that for?” he hissed, lowering his voice and hoping you couldn’t hear him. wanda rolled her eyes.

“thank you so much,” she simpered as you handed her the book with a polite smile. “you know, you’ve done so much for us. bucky’s never been big on reading before,” wanda patted the super soldier’s arm. your eyebrows raised as if to say, oh really?

“hard to believe, right?” she laughed. “he comes here so much i could be fooled. anyways, i was thinking you should come and celebrate steve’s birthday with us! it’s the fourth of july, which is cliché, i know, but if you don’t have any plans you’d be more than welcome! we’d all love to meet the woman that’s gotten bucky all intellectual recently. your books have more of an impact around the compound than you think.”

you looked terrified. “i- what? the compound, as in the avengers compound? wait, captain america’s birthday? a birthday party? you want me to come to america’s party for his birthday?” you gasped, blinking furiously to try and comprehend the insanity of it all.

wanda giggled. “yes! you’re so cute; i can see why bucky likes you so much.” once again, you and bucky blushed and looked at the floor. wanda either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“i mean, i’ll have to- i might have to work but- yes! i’d love to, i just have to check with the owner, uh, thank you? for inviting me to your party? um, are there going to be avengers there?”

wanda shook her head, enamored by your antics. “yes, there will definitely be avengers there. it’ll probably just be the team and their families, but you can be bucky’s plus one. here, let me write down the details for you!”

you slid wanda a piece of scrap paper silently, subtly pinching yourself to check if you were dreaming. you were not.

“here ‘ya go! bucky and i can’t wait to see you there!” she chirped before dragging a dazed bucky out of the store and leaving you breathless. bucky can’t wait to see me there.

“stop being such a sourpuss, bucky.” wanda complained, smacking his arm with a trail of red energy.

“yeah, bucky. if your girlfriend is half as obsessed with you as you are for her, she’ll show up here with a trumpet fanfare and a horse-drawn carriage. you’re down bad, my man, and it’s getting kinda sad.” sam had his arms crossed in front of bucky, who had decided to tag team with natasha to bully bucky all day.

“it’s steve’s birthday, can we just… ugh,” bucky groaned, tugging at his hair. “i don’t even care if she comes or not. it’s not a big deal. i’ve only seen her like, five times. i’m just a customer. so it doesn’t even matter.”

natasha rolled her eyes. “i’m this close,” she demonstrated with her fingers pinched together, “to beating the stupidity out of you, buchanan.” bucky glared at her.

“can you not-”

“shut the fuck up, idiot,” sam interrupted.

natasha elbowed him “okay, the goal is to piss him off, not rip his fragile, lovesick heart into shreds,” she chastised. bucky pursed his lips in frustration and took a deep, calming breath.

“i am going to remove myself from the situation,” he spoke mostly to himself, closing his eyes and remembering with dr. raynor had taught him. as much as he hated his shrink, he had to admit, therapy was coming in handy when it came to dealing with his asshole teammates. de-escalate, bucky. remove yourself from the aggressive environment. good job, bucky. deep, calming breaths. imagine you’re on a quiet beach…

“bucky!” the sound of your honeyed call broke his trance. his heart raced once more. well, shit. that ruined the whole meditative process. but it was worth it if it meant he got to hear his name roll off your tongue, all sugary and pure.

natasha and sam smirked at each other as you ran over to bucky with a gift in hand and bucky took speedy steps over to you with his long legs. he wrapped you into his arms and you squealed as your feet left the ground as you returned his hug with just as much passion.

“hi!” you whispered as you caught your breath, smiling up at him with such joy that he thought he might melt under your gaze before he’d even get a chance to wish steve a happy birthday.

“so you’re the girl that’s turned that frown upside down?” sam joked, taking your hand delicately and planting a charming kiss on the back of it. you laughed breathlessly, unaware of bucky’s pointed look at the back of sam’s head. it didn’t slip natasha’s perceptive gaze, however, and she took note of it.

“i’m natasha,” the spy shook her hand and raised her eyebrows approvingly at your firm handshake. you introduced yourself eagerly. “wow, you’re the black window! i- wow. i love you so much. my coworker and i are such big fans,” you raved, fanning yourself with your hands.

natasha chuckled, taking your hand in hers and lowering it for you. “well, i’m a big fan of you too.” you looked like you were going to pass out. “it’s an honor to meet the woman who’s turned the most petulant, ancient asshole into a cutesy, sappy little boy.”

you gasped dramatically, eyes jumping up to bucky. “bucky’s not an asshole! or a little boy, for that matter. he’s a cultured reader and classics aficionado. one of my best customers, actually,” you said proudly. natasha and sam looked at each other once more, but you and bucky were too immersed in each other’s smiles to notice their smug looks.

“wait, can you fly?” you whipped your head around to sam. “you’re the falcon! of couse you can fly! sam—can i call you sam?—can you take me flying?”

sam opened his mouth presumably to say yes, as he would take any excuse to zip around the compound and annoy his team, but bucky cut him off.

“nope, we’re not doing that. don’t do that, doll,” he looked down at you. you smiled, confused, at the pet name that slipped out of his mouth. “there’s a 70% chance that sam will kill you and a 10% chance that he’ll land roughly and you’ll both fall, and you look too beau- nice for grass stains. plus i’d really like to spend at least a couple hours with you outside of your work before you die.”

you gaped at him, not sure whether to interpret this as him making jabs at sam or him trying to flirt with you. maybe it was both. you were too stunned to analyze any of it anyway.

“buck? hey, you brought your friend!” steve jogged over eagerly with a glint in his eye that bucky did not like one bit.

“i- oh my gosh- hello? i’m sorry, it’s just that you’re capitan america and that’s pretty cool and stuff and bucky and wanda got books from my store—oh shit, did i just ruin the surprise?” you gasped.

bucky was prepared for steve to scold you for your language, but instead, he burst into a full-bellied laugh that neither of you were expecting. “i may be turning 105, but i’m not blind yet! we can never usually get bucky to talk, but ever since he got wanda her book, it’s all been ‘this girl at the bookstore,’ and ‘did you know that she paints?’ and ‘i wonder what her work schedule’s like because i never see her outside of the store,” steve ranted.

“it’s kind of really annoying, actually,” tony piped in, sauntering over with a half-eaten chocolate covered strawberry in hand. “the gramp won’t shut up about you. it’s nice to know that your favorite vegetable is cauliflower and that you’ve promised to take the tinman to a vegan restaurant. y’know, he hates vegetables. he’s practically a carnivore.”

tony pushed his sunglasses down to give bucky a judging look unobstructed. normally, bucky would’ve retaliated, but all he could do was blush. (from the heat of the sun, obviously. he did forget to put on sunscreen today.)

you looked up at bucky, taking his metal hand and shaking it without hesitation. your fearlessness surprised him—not only had you touched his prosthetic so nonchalantly, but you hadn’t run away screaming after hearing all the embarrassing things his teammates had divulged within the first half hour of your arrival.

“bucky, is it all true?” you teased, licking your lips and tilting your head ever so slightly. bucky knew it was because you were questioning him, but all he could think about was how you were perfectly positioned for him to kiss; all he needed to do was bend down a bit and maybe then he could finally see if you tasted as homely as your books smelled or if you had just eaten cauliflower—somehow, the idea of vegetable breath was appealing if it was on you.

“bucky? you still here?” you poked him in the stomach, which didn’t do much seeing as he was a buff avenger with enhanced strength. he blinked himself into the present.

“yeah, yeah! sorry, uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck, a habit you’d come to recognize as something he did when he was uncomfortable.

“hey, are you okay?” immediately, the interrogation you were planning on giving him disappeared from your lips and was replaced with eyes of concern. you placed your other hand on top of his metal one and tugged on it to catch his attention. “bucky, c’mon. let’s go somewhere quieter.”

you weren’t really sure had no clue where you were going, but once the bubbling of voices from the party began to fade, you stopped and turned to face him fully. his flesh hand, which had continued to run across his face, paused and slowly sank to his side as you watched him solemnly.

“i know that friends sometimes push things to far,” you laughed quietly, eyes darting to the ground, “and it can hurt a little bit. and sometimes for me it’s hard to tell them that i’m hurt.” you looked back up at him, but his face was expressionless.

you sighed. “i guess you’re right; we don’t know each other that well apart from our interactions at the store. but… if what your friends were saying were true, i’d- well, i’d like to know you better. outside the store, i mean.” your eyes darted between bucky’s intense, blue stare. your gaze never left his, even as he swallowed hard and refused to let any emotion cross his face. by the bob of his adam’s apple, though, you could tell that he was affected somehow.

“i wasn’t joking when i said i’d take you to that restaurant, you know. ‘cuz i really like you and i don’t understand you and your reading choices but i’d really like to because… you intrigue me. i don’t care if your team thinks you’re broody or whatever, ‘cuz i think you’re enigmatic and thoughtful.”

you dropped his hands. “ha, sorry. i don’t wanna push it; i know you’re probably really overwhelmed right now, it being your friend’s birthday and hosting a stranger and all your friends probably made you really uncomfortable just now so i don’t want to add to your stress-”

“can i kiss you?” bucky murmmured, the tiniest bit of nervousness flashing across his eyes as he pursed his lips in anticipation for your answer.

you needed no words. instead, you raised your arms and jumped, flinging them around his neck and bucky was quick to understand. he caught you, holding you up by your thighs and being careful to keep things respectful (he was a 40s gentleman, after all). bucky’s eyebrows furrowed as his lips met yours cautiously. god, he’d been dreaming about this for so long, and it always felt a bit vouyeristic knowing that you didn’t reciprocate his feelings. how wrong he was about that.

you hadn’t expected bucky’s lips to be so soft and you adored it when you leaned into the kiss. your noses brushed and your hands, after fidgeting with themselves for a bit, climbed up his neck and into his hair, where you tangled your fingers in his locks and gently rubbed over his scalp. he groaned, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss.

you had to break off, though, as you were not nearly as capable of holding your breath as long as a super soldier was. you were reluctant to do so, of course, and you pulled away just as much as necessary, making sure to remain as close to him as possible. your foreheads and noses were still touching as your lips remained just an few inches away where you were trying to catch your breath. your eyes were closed blissfully, and bucky dared to flutter his open.

there you were, the subject of all of his daydreams in the past few months, so close to him. he could feel your warm breath on his face. when you leaned in to kiss him again, you did so with even more fervor. you gasped into his mouth so wonderfully that he stumbled backwards a couple steps, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip so that your mouth would stay open and he could continue kissing you even deeper.

“bucky,” you whispered hoarsely as you pulled away for a second time. “bucky, i-”

“keep it in your pants, barnes!” tony’s voice bellowed from the party, and bucky burned red. you wiggled a bit in his hold and he took it as a sign to set you back on the ground. once you were standing, you shook your hands fiercely, letting out all the tension.

“wow,” you breathed, a satisfied, wonderstruck smile blooming on the lips buky had just kissed.

“wow is pretty accurate,” bucky agreed equally as breathless.

when you two captured each other’s eyes again, bucky reached down to cup your jaw and run his thumb over your cheek.

“you’re so beautiful, you know that?” he muttered, smiling fondly as you leaned into his touch and covered your hand with his own.

“i could say the same about you.” you turned your head so that your lips were in the palm of your hand and pressed a chaste kiss to his skin. he was glad he hadn’t reached out with his metal hand. he didn’t want to miss out on feeling every kiss you blessed him with.

“we should go back.” you watched as clint’s kids and tony’s daughter began pleading to cut the cake whilst steve insisted that they wait for the two of you to return.

“we should,” bucky nodded.

neither of you spoke or made any effort to move. instead, you stood on your toes to press one final kiss to the corner of bucky’s mouth and whispered “you don’t even have my phone number.”

he laughed. “doesn’t matter. i’ll just come bother you at the bookstore.”

you bit your lip to stop the beam that was sure to explode across your face and agitate your sore cheeks, so you tilted your head towards the party.

“we should definitely go back. the cake, and stuff. and maybe if i decide that i really like you, i’ll give you my number at the end of the party. so don’t get too comfortable.”

“it’s a deal, doll.”

you were perched on one of bucky’s thighs, horizontal to his chest, as the two of you dug into new reads. just like steve, bucky had decided to catch up on the classics (mostly because it meant he could watch your face light up as you chattered on about your favorites and what they meant and tried to convince him to read them, even though he knew he’d read anything you gave him anyway). thus began your sunday ritual of domesticity. bucky knew sunday was your only day off, so the first sunday after steve’s birthday, he had planned to make the most of it.

he took the train to brooklyn (he loved liked you even more for that) and picked you up at 10. he’d brought you to one of the coffee shops that’d been running since the 40s, which you doted on; “it’s so classic! i love mrs. basque—she gets me, you know? hates the gentrification too; she’s so progressive.” he teased you when he found out you (used to) hate “old people.”

“what a change of heart, huh? first your boss wins you over, then you fall for an 106 year old, and now you seem to like mrs. basque more than me.”

“well, if you keep making fun of me, maybe i will start liking mrs. basque more than you.”

bucky had dropped to his knees right outside of the store, begging you to forgive him as the two of you struggled to hold in obnoxiously loud laughs for the sakes of the people around you.

bucky had taken you up to the compound and cooked you a plant based meal and even ate it himself, which was when you realized how deeply you felt for him. he showed you wanda’s garden, helped you safely fly with sam, and then brought you to see steve’s book collection. but the best thing he’d done was present you with a book. it was a limited edition copy of herland, the book you’d been raving about ever since you’d convinced bucky to read the yellow wallpaper. he’d devoured your collection of feminist literature soon after and you fell a little more.

and now, curled up against the chest of the man you loved adored, you were struck by your second revelation of just how far you’d fallen. you watched as his blue eyes, almost as blindingly bright as his smile, danced across the pages of the newest novel you’d given to him. you watched as the sunlight streaming from the window made his eyelashes glow golden, and how his fingers tapped on the cover of the book absentmindedly. you knew he truly cared about the book when he let you be mesmerized by him instead of looking away, embarrassed. and he knew you truly cared about him when he took the time to read through your little annotations and add some of his own.

you shifted, wrapping your arms around his broad chest and nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. he hummed contetedly, using two fingers to hold the book open so that he could free up one of his hands to rub your back with.

from within the blanket of security his body provided you, you allowed yourself to confront your feelings. he’d confessed to you two weeks ago that the only reason he’d kept coming back for books was because he wanted to see you again. technically, he had a “reason” to, but he was the one coming up with them. the book on Hun empire archery was for clint, who didn’t really want the book in the first place, and when he came back the third time, he did so with the intention to ask you on a date. when he chickened out, he thought that’d be the last time he’d see you. instead, he ended up buying two more books—not because he was particularly interested in the classics, but because he’d asked you for your recommendations and you had said don quixote. he picked up alice in wonderland mainly as a joke, but ended up reading it (and loving it) just because it was you who sold him the book.

and then you learned he’d been keeping each one of your bookmarks, treasuring them as if they truly were picasso-level art, and you’d planted the biggest kiss on his cheek. and then you’d learned he never learned how to cook and taught himself just so he could make food for you, and you threw yourself into his arms. and then you had met alpine, and discovered that bucky would read aloud to his cat every night.

and then—well, just now, you cursed yourself out in your head. holy fucking shit i’m such a dumbass, aren’t i? i’m in love with this man. i’m in love with bucky. i. love. bucky.

you didn’t even hesitate when you lifted your head from his shoulder and pecked his cheek to catch his attention. when he closed his book, making sure your bookmark was properly secured before closing it, your breath was shaky.

“i love you, bucky. i’m so in love with you it’s stupid. i love you.”

bucky was silent for just a second before pulling you into the tightest hug. “i love you too,” he whispered into your hair, voice wet with emotion. “i’ve loved you for so long,” he confessed, pulling away and keeping his hands on your shoulders as if he wanted to be assured that you’d never leave.

“i hated everything you loved, at first. reading. vegetables. being so happy, all the time. but you made me love it all. and i must be the biggest fool for taking so long to figure this out, but the reason i’ve changed isn’t because i’ve learned to love all those things. it’s because i learned to love you. and i’d stop eating beef for you, sweetheard. i’d eat cauliflower burgers for the rest of my life if it means i get to love you.”

you backhanded his cheek softly. “you stupid, stupid boy,” you sniffed. “i hate you. god, i hate that you do this to me.” you were blinking back tears. “you’re making me fucking cry. i hate the power you have over me.” you didn’t. the both of you knew that you didn’t.

leaning in, you pressed your lips to his. it was a shitty kiss where your big smiles stopped you from actually doing much kissing, but the “shittiness” of it all was what made it charming. and no amount of bad customer service of ineffective advertisting could convince you or bucky otherwise.

＊✿❀　❀✿＊

main masterlist

taglist: (comment to be added!)

@im-a-slut-for-fluff

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky imagine #bucky and reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x librarian! reader #librarian au #bookstore au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff

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boxstudios · 1 year

Text

Bob Velseb - What if Someone Hurt you?

I'm reposting this from ao3 :D This was requested by a user on ao3

Reader Pronouns: They/Them Reader Sex: Not Specified Word Count: 2,610 Warnings: Gore, Abuse of Service Workers, Torture, Vomit, Cannibalism (duh)

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This situation started while you were at work. You worked at a local Cafe as a barista. It was a rather well-paying job as you worked full-time and you overall enjoyed working there. Your coworkers were nice and your boss wasn't an asshole like your previous jobs. You enjoyed working here.

Bob would sometimes find himself stalking you at work, dressed up as another person. Sometimes he would threaten other people and make them go check on you. You were completely unaware of this as he often kept his distance and just watched you from afar.

This was one of those days. You were peacefully making orders for customers as your co-workers were rushing around taking orders. Bob sat in the corner at a table once again. A brown wig and a black jacket is what he wore as he stared at you across the Cafe. While he didn't eat any of the food they served, he did find himself enjoying a cup of coffee. He preferred it to have a lot of sugar and milk as he had a rather large sweet tooth. A newspaper carefully placed into his hands, although he rarely looked at it as he mostly preferred to stare at you.

He watched as you rushed around behind the counter, making different kinds of coffee and different kinds of shakes. You were such a hard worker. It was one of the things he loved most about you. The sweat carefully rolled down your face as you worked. God he couldn't wait till you went home and he could have you all to himself. Just watching you work was making him aroused.

More customers walked in and out of the Cafe. One customer in particular had messy brown hair and gray eyes that look similar to the moon. He had some facial hair and a really grumpy expression. The bags under his eyes were heavy almost as if he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep in his whole life. Bob looked at him in the other customers who were walking in before turning back to you.

It was almost time for your break and Bob was questioning if he should pay you a little visit while you were on your break. He'd love to be able to actually touch you instead of having to watch you from afar. He would hold you, lick you and cover you with his kisses. How he wanted to do that so badly, but the chance of you growing suspicious of how he knew when your break was put that thought to a halt.

Time went by and he was still staring at you. Eventually you walked into the back. It was time for your break. Bob frowned as you walked out of View before glancing at the newspaper in his hands. He might as well read it while he waits for your break to end. He read the information on the paper. It was boring news stories, a missing person's report for someone named 'Dexter', an advertisement for the local candy shop Candy Club, and a wanted poster for him. He chuckled as he looked at The Wanted sign. Did they really think they could catch him? Not again. He'd be smarter than he was last time. He had help from them . He'd never let himself get caught like that again.

"WHO THE FUCK MADE THIS DRINK?!" A loud shout caused Bob to look up from his newspaper. The brown haired man was at the front, yelling at the employees. "Sir please calm down." "NO. TELL ME WHO THE FUCK MADE THIS DRINK?!" 'He's making a scene over a drink? How stupid.' Bob thought to himself. He was about to look back to his newspaper when you came out from the back. "What's going on?" You asked, wondering why this guy was screaming. "YOU." He shouted as he pointed to you. "DID YOU MAKE THIS DRINK?" He pointed to the cup in his hands. It was a mocha latte with extra cream and chocolate chips. Your eye twitched slightly as you took a deep breath before looking at him. "Yes sir I did. If you aren't happy with it I can remak-"

You were cut off by the feeling of hot coffee hitting your face. You screamed as you held your face. It burned. Bob who was across the room stood up out of instinct. What the fuck. Did that just happen? Did this fucker really throw coffee on you? Who THE FUCK does he think he is? Bob felt himself turn red with anger, his blood boiling. "YOU STUPID WORKERS CAN'T EVEN GET A FUCKING DRINK RIGHT! STUPID BITCH!" He yelled as he raised a hand to you. You had no idea as you were covering your face from the burning pain of hot ass coffee on you.

Suddenly the man's arm was tightly grabbed by a large hand. " Hey buddy ." The voice made your blood run cold. You knew that voice. You recognized it almost instantly. Your co-workers pulled you back as you slowly looked up to see him . You could tell it was him just by that crazy look in his eyes and that creepy smile on his face. The brown hair didn't hide anything. You knew it was Bob. " I don't recommend you do that. " His words came out slowly as his voice sounded as cold as ice. You had NEVER heard him this mad.

The man tried to pull his hand away from Bob but Bob just wouldn't let go. "H-HEY-! LET ME GO YOU FUCKIN' WEIRDO!" The guy yelled. Bob could only see red. This fucker hurt you. He hurt you. That's all Bob could think about in the moment. It was like the rest of the world wasn't there. "Are you ok?" Your co-worker asked you as she helped you clean off your face. "Yes..I'm ok.." The sound of your voice snapped Bob back to reality. He stared at the guy before letting go of his arm. "We shouldn't treat our service workers in such a cruel way." That's what Bob said. Bob wanted to say so many different things. But not here. Not in public. Soon.

Bob watched as the guy quickly walked out of the store. What a fucking coward. All bark but no bite. "I'm gonna call the police.." Your other co-worker said to you. "You don't have to do that Cole. I'm fine.." You replied as you stood up slowly. "You have burn marks on your face! We need to get you checked out to make sure you’re ok." Oh yea. Bob was gonna get this fucker.

Bob left the coffee shop shortly after. You were staring as he left and he felt your gaze on him. Your manager thanked him for stopping the man and gave him a free coffee. So there he was, holding a cup of Coffee, walking down the street, thinking of all the things he's going to do to that asshole. He needed to get ready. He was going to make that prick pay .

Upon arriving at his house, an old abandoned house on the opposite side of town, he quickly changed into his Demon Costume. He stared at himself in the mirror. The Costume had a lot of red in it. Which means it was good for hiding blood stains. Bob thought about where the guy might be. The answer was simple. A bar. The guy was clearly an alcoholic despite not being drunk at the time, the way he conducted himself screamed "self-worth issues". Bob chuckled. Then a chuckle turned into a laugh Then a laugh turned into a cackle. " You're gonna see what happens when you mess with my Darlin' you prick ."

As night fell upon the city, Bob knew it was time. He left his house, fully equipped with everything he'll need. He hid under the cover of night, checking bar after bar around the city. He was starting to get frustrated. He made his way to the fourth bar to check. Nothing. "God DAMMIT." He was getting too angry, he needed to calm down. He can't make any stupid decisions. Find the guy. That's it.

"What the fuck is your problem freakshow?" A voice. A familiar voice. Bob looked up to see the brown-haired man who assaulted you at the cafe. "October is over weirdo." Bob stood there for a moment before he started to laugh. The guy felt uneasy so he took a step back and grabbed the door handle of the bar door. Before he could even react he felt his head being tightly grabbed. " Finally. I finally fuckin' found you ." The guy quickly tried to struggle. "HEY-! LET GO OF ME YOU FUCKING LUNAT-" " Shut up ." Bob used his other hand to hold him by the neck and then released his face. The guy struggled to breathe as Bob walked into the alleyway. " You're going to pay for touchin' My Love ."

There he was dragging an unconscious man back to his house. You were in your own room waiting for Bob to arrive like he did every night. The events of today made you tense and you wondered where he was and what he was doing.

What he was doing was tying a man to a chair. Bob took a step back as he looked at the asshole. He scoffed. He wanted to get started now but he needed to wake him up first. Before he did he grabbed the guy's wallet. Steven Cullman. Age 35. He had a picture of a little girl in his wallet. Must be his daughter. Bob laughed. Poor girl isn't ever gonna see her father again thanks to his own stupid mistake. Bob sat the wallet down before he violently stomped on the guy's foot, causing him to shoot awake and scream in pain. He looked around in panic before staring at Bob. "You…WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" Bob just chuckled as he lifted up his sweater, revealing his undershirt and belt as he grabbed the knife from his belt. "Did you know, there is a disease called 'Kuru', also known as 'laughing death' that comes from eating human meat ?" Steven froze up. The way his voice was so cold. Anyone could've recognized it. "Y-YOU'RE THE FUCKER FROM THE CAFE THIS MORNING!" Bob laughed loudly. "Indeed I am." "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" He yelled. Bob's smile immediately dropped for a moment before returning as he laughed. "You made a grave mistake." He stepped closer to Steven as he grazed the knife on the side of Steven's face. Steven's breaths grew heavy as he froze up. He couldn't move. "You see, that young worker you poured coffee on…" Suddenly the knife quickly cut his cheek and Steven hissed in pain. " ..Was my partner.. "

He was taking a while. "Where is he?" You were both disappointed and concerned. He was never this late. It's an hour past the time he normally shows up. You sighed as you laid down on your bed. Maybe he was busy. You couldn't blame him for that. But you missed his warmth. You missed the way he would gently caress you and hold you. You never felt like that before. That warmth you got when he was around. Your face had bandages all over it. Luckily the burns weren't that bad so they said the scars would most likely clear up within a few weeks but there is a chance of them being permanent. You sighed as you hugged your pillow, trying to mimic the feeling of hugging Bob but it just wasn't the same. You thought for a moment. Who would've thought fearing for my life would've gotten me a boyfriend.

The screams came from The basement of Bob's house. The basement was soundproof so no one would hear a thing. Bob chuckled as he dragged the knife down Steven's leg, the knife so deep it was scratching his bone. His leg bled right through his pants. His muscles and the fat in his legs slowly started to come out as Bob pushed his hand on Steven's leg, as if he was squeezing it out. The yellow fat dyed by the crimson blood turned into an orange color. "How delicious.." Bob picked up the large sloppy piece of bloody fat from off the floor. It was sticky and slimy. Bob gave it a small squish before taking a bite. It took him a moment to process the taste. Alcohol. It tasted like Alcohol. Bob didn't exactly like when meat tasted this way but he also didn't dislike it either. Steven had large tears rolling down his blood covered face. He had bit his lip so hard that it was bleeding violently. "You…sick…bast-" Suddenly a large wave of vomit came from his mouth and landed splat on the floor. Bob only watched and laughed as he ate the rest of the piece of fat. Steven coughed loudly as Bob grabbed the knife from out his leg and then toward his chopped up hand. Bob hand already removed three of his fingers on his left and one on his right. "JUST KILL ME! JUST FUCKING KILL ME YOU SICK FUC-" Suddenly Steven was grabbed by the neck tightly. He couldn't breathe and was gaging. " You still don't get it do you..? THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR WHAT YOU DID. " Steven stared up at him as he started to turn pale. " YOU SCARRED UP MY DARLIN’S BEAUTIFUL FACE. YOU BURNED THEM. " Bob used his free hand to cut off Stephen's restraints with a knife before violently slamming his head into the wall. " YOU WANNA DIE? WELL THAT'S TOO BAD. YOU DON'T GET TO DIE! " His western accent grew heavier the angrier he got. He slammed him into the wall repeatedly. " YOU DON'T GET TO DIE UNTIL YOU FEEL THE PAIN THEY FELT A THOUSAND TIMES OVER. " Bob was heavily panting until he realized, He killed Steven. The blunt force trauma killed him almost instantly on the first swing. "Ah shit..." He was irritated. Very irritated. He needs to clean this up.

There you lay in your room, you were tired. You wanted to wait for Bob and the events of today had you exhausted. "Boooob…" You whined. You wanted to be in his tight embrace. You wanted him to hold you, comfort you, anything. You were emotional after what you went through today. Getting Coffee thrown at you, having to go to the hospital and get tests done on your injuries. It was all too much. You just wanted to lay with your big lover. You sniffled a bit as you slowly closed your eyes.

"Darlin'~" A familiar southern accent starts to wake you from the dead like sleep you stuck yourself in. You knew he was there but you were too tired to move. Too tired to do anything. You felt as his hand cupped the side of your face. "So pretty…I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner.." You weren't even fully conscious but you could feel yourself starting to tear up. Finally, he was here to comfort you. He was here for you. Even if you couldn't bring yourself to move. "Awwww..Don't cry Love…" His hand wiped your tears away. You wanted to break out of your sleep. To throw your arms around him and just cry into him. You were mentally exhausted. "Don't you worry…It's all going to be ok…I'll make sure of it.." You felt his arms wrap around you as he pulled you into his chest. "You won't have to worry about anything anymore…. I'll make sure of it. "

#bob velseb #bob is so hot help me #bob velseb x reader #bob velseb x you #spooky month bob velseb #spooky month x reader #sr pelo #spooky month

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stsganemoia · 2 years

Text

i wrote this on fathers day, but it was also juneteenth, so i didn't want to take attention away from black creators! (also i completely forgot about it yesterday oops) so today, suzu presents to you!

five times reigen arataka was mistaken for a father, plus once when he accepted his fate.

arataka was twenty four years old. twenty four, and if you asked him, he looked great for his age, he probably wouldn't even guess himself to be that old if he were someone else. that was much, much too young to have a kid as old as his employee, who was currently ten. (though to be fair, mob looked pretty young for his age too)

"sir? sir, i asked if you would like the happy meal for your boy, instead of the nuggets and fries separately. it comes with the milk at the same price, so it's cheaper," the woman working behind the counter of mobdonald's repeated. she looked like she didn't get paid nearly enough to deal with whatever crisis arataka was having right now. to be fair, she probably didn't.

"oh, of course, uhm," reigen took a moment to compose himself. "he's not my boy," he clarified first. the woman working behind the counter couldn't seem to care any less. "but yes, please, the happy meal is fine," he said, pulling out his wallet as she told him his total. he pulled out the correct bills (throwing an extra one on for holding up the line) and shuffled over to the side to wait for their food, scooting mob along with him.

"thank you, shishou, for getting the happy meal," mob spoke for the first time since they'd gotten into the restaurant.

"don't worry about it." arataka waved his hand dismissively. "you like milk, don't you? and the nuggets and fries were right?" he asked. mob nodded quickly.

"yes, that's my favorite," mob replied, looking at his shishou with a look that arataka couldn't quite place. he couldn't tell if the feeling in his chest was a sense of pride in himself for getting mob's order right, or a signal from his heart telling him that maybe mobdonald's wasn't the best choice.

maybe they should stop getting fast food.

—

"your boy is so cute," the old woman gushed, squishing ritsu's cheeks together in a way that made him kinda resemble a fish. "he must be, what? eight?" she asked.

"eleven," ritsu corrected in a muffled way. his cheeks were sore. this old woman had some sort of power grip on him.

he didn’t often come in to spirit’s and such, mainly because he hated he hated reigen with all of his guts. he couldn’t quite tell why, but he suspected that it was because he had never really shown him or his brother his alleged powers. ritsu was beginning to think the man didn’t even have any.

the only reason ritsu was here at all was because his parents were working late, and they’d preferred ritsu didn’t stay home all by himself, even though he was eleven years old and totally capable and responsible enough to stay by himself. he’d prefer it to being stuck at his dumb old office, with some dumb old lady pinching his cheeks. reigen must have sensed that ritsu was about ten seconds away from losing him a customer, because he intervened quickly.

“actually, he’s my very honorary employee, and he’d in the midst of doing his job, so i’m going to ask that you don’t disturb him, please,” the man said, stepping over to the two. the lady gave ritu’s face a little shake before finally letting go.

“oh, well, excuse me. i didn’t realize that you COULD employ an eleven year old,” the woman said with a somewhat rude tone.

“alas, i said honorary, remember? he doesn’t actually get paid, or forced to work. he mostly just sits here,” reigen explained.

“that sounds like child labor,” the woman replied blandly.

“did you come here so i can break a curse for you, or so that you could criticize my business practices?” reigen’s tone became a lot less ‘customer service-y’ and a lot more ‘you’re not going to pay me enough to deal with your questions-y’. the lady caught on, and decided that her curse was more important than the questionable business choice of this psychic.

whilst the grownups began talking, ritsu looked down at his ‘job’. it was actually just his math homework. he didn’t really work, and honestly the only reason he was up front in the first place was because it was the only place with a desk so he could do his homework.

ritsu scrunched up his nose. maybe he should be compensated for being here, people loved kids, after all.

—

the spirit laughed. right in his face. the audacity.

"what the-" it scoffed. "what is this? you brought your kid? this is worse than bringing a knife to a gun fight- it's like bringing a pencil!" it sneered, hovering above arataka. he scowled.

"i'll have you know that my protege," he made sure to emphasize the word "is far, far greater than a pencil. she's a canon," arataka scowled. tome stood, looking less than amused. this was a powerful spirit- powerful enough that she could see it, at least, which had to mean something. she knew her psychic friends were always talking to a ‘dimple’, but she couldn’t see him, so there must be some sort of power system that she didn’t really know about. that was fine.

“yeah, i’m a canon,” she pointed her thumb to her chest proudly. she’d never exorcised a spirit before, but she had basically begged to tag along. this was fine, arataka had mob on the way as they spoke. the spirit burst out laughing at tome’s confidence, and while, to be fair, she wasn’t an ESPer and couldn’t actually exorcise the thing, it pissed arataka off nonetheless.

“what is this? you trying to get me to laugh to death? at this rate it’ll be a hell of a lot easier than one of you two exorcising me,” it cackled.

“i’ll have you know, that I am reigen arataka, the greatest psychic of the-” arataka began, but before he could continue, tome stepped forward, flinging her hand out.

“wait, what the fu-” the spirit barely had time to stop laughing, and process what exactly was happening, before it disappeared. arataka blinked. he looked at tome, then where the spirit had been, then back at tome. for good measure, he looked at the door to see if mob had shown up. he wasn’t there. it was just him, and tome.

“the fuck did you do??” arataka asked. this would admittedly be a great time for her to have awakened her psychic powers, since mob was taking forever, but he already babysat four psychic kids, he didn’t know if he could emotionally handle a fifth.

“salt,” tome explained, showing off her hand, which was indeed, covered in salt.

“but salt doesn’t do anything against spirits,” arataka said, though it was admittedly more of a question than a statement.

“table salt does not, you’re right. purified salt, however, does,” she said with a smug grin on her face. if reigen wasn’t so impressed (and also against child abuse) he would wanna smack it off.

“where exactly did you get purified salt anyways?”

“mobazon,” tome replied with a shrug.

“what should i have expected from a student of the greatest psychic of the twenty-first century,” reigen spoke quite dramatically, his hand flipping about with each word. “why don’t we go and get some ramen to celebrate your first successful exorcism?” he offered.

“oh, hell yeah!” tome cheered, thrusting her fist in the air gleefully. reigen couldn’t help but smile as they left the warehouse.

he’d have to check mobazon for purified salt soon.

—

"awe, no shou-kun today?" the cashier asked, ringing up a bottle of water, and a pack of candy cigarettes. arataka hated the damn things, they were like chalk that someone added a little bit of sugar to, but they helped him stop the real thing, so he bought them every time.

"no, not today," arataka replied, whipping out his wallet. the clerk didn't need to tell him the total, he already knew. he came here every thursday with shou, (the only time that the kid would bother coming around the office) and he always got the same thing. sometimes shou would throw on a pack of gum, or a bento, or something, but without that, reigen always had the same total.

"how come? he join a club or something?" the man across the counter asked as he took arataka's bills and started to count his change.

"not quite. he had a recital of sorts, so he couldn't make it today," he said. he didn't quite remember, but he was decently sure it was something that shou was kinda forced into despite not having any real part in it. participation grade more than anything else. he hadn’t even really wanted to go to it, but had for the sole reason of ritsu agreeing to come watch.

"shouldn't you go to that sort of thing?" the clerk asked- haruto, arataka didn't really know the guy's name, despite the fact that he wore it on a nametag. he kinda felt bad.

"uhm, no, not really?" arataka raised an eyebrow. what business did he really have at a middle school recital. "why would i?" he asked.

"well, he's your kid isn't he? aren't parents supposed to go to that sort of thing?" haruto asked. reigen felt his eye twitch.

"actually, shou isn't my kid. he's my employee,," he informed, shoving the candy cigarettes into his pocket. he'd need to open them up once he got outside.

"wait, seriously?" haruto asked, dropping change into arataka's extended hand. he nodded. "holy shit, i totally just assumed, my bad, dude," he apologized, giving an awkward laugh. reigen shot a smile as he stuffed his change in his pocket and grabbed the water.

"no worries," he said through gritted teeth. "i'll see you later," he waved and turned to head out. the worst part was that he'd totally planned on going to the recital too, but a customer had asked to see him, and it seemed urgent, so he'd taken it.

wasn't even worth it either, it took ten seconds to figure out her cell phone wasn't haunted, it was just in the wrong language.

—

“are you here picking up your son?” a woman interrupted arataka’s thoughts. well, to be fair, he wasn’t really thinking, he was kinda just staring blankly at his phone as he waited for the time to pass.

“i’m sorry?” he looked at the woman. she was pretty. she was also older than him. he wasn’t the best at estimating, but he would guess by at least ten years. he stood up straighter.

“oh, i just asked if you were here to pick up your son. it’s so rare to see a man picking his kid up, they always say it’s a womans job,” the lady said, stepping uncomfortably closer. arataka took a small step back.

“oh, well, no, i’m not here to pick up my son,” he replied. he probably would’ve left it there, if he hadn’t been a twenty six year old man standing outside of a middle school. “i’m picking up my,” reigen paused. what exactly was teruki to him? he settled on employee, after a moment of thought. “my employee. his parents are off on business, but he has a dentist appointment, so i’m taking him,” he explained. he decided against bringing up the fact that HE was the one who scheduled the appointment, and he doubted the kids parents even knew that there was a dentist appointments anyways.

“ohh, i see,” the woman replied. in reigen’s opinion, it did not look like she saw, but he wasn’t gonna explain himself any further. this was starting to get ridiculous, he wasn’t old enough to have a middle schooler yet, was he??? “it’s so nice of you to do that for them. do you like kids?” the lady closed the distance once again. arataka wondered briefly if he’d ever been this uncomfortable in his entire life.

“oh, kageyama’s shishou, what are you doing here?” teruki interrupted, and arataka made a note to pray and thank whatever god there was, once he got home.

“here for you, kiddo. you have that dentist appointment, remember?” he reminded the boy. teru scowled. arataka knew the kid preferred to do things on his own, but he also just didn’t care.

“oh, right.” teru agreed with a huff, and turned towards the woman that was standing very VERY close to his kageyama’s shishou, but arataka took the opportunity to turn the kid away before he could ask about her.

“it was lovely meeting you, but we have an appointment to get to now.” arataka gave a curt bow of his head before turning and following teru away from the lady. it took two streets for him to finally talk.

“you can call me reigen, you know, you don’t have to just call me ‘kageyama’s shishou’,” he said. teru seemed to think this over for a moment before shrugging.

“i think it’s funnier to call you kageyama’s shishou,” was what the kid came up with. reigen made a face at him, and teru stuck his tongue out in response. after a moment, arataka spoke up again.

“i don’t really look old enough to have a fourteen year old son, do i?” he asked.

in response, teruki burst out laughing, and for the most part all arataka could hear were ‘holy shit’ and ‘old man’. maybe he should take on a less stressful job.

—-

“hey, shishou?” mob spoke for the first time since he’d come into the office, which was kind of impressive, considering he’d been in for upwards of two hours, but also kind of wasn’t, because he was mob.

arataka wouldn’t usually be concerned at this, but today, he could quite literally feel the energy radiating off of mob. the kid wasn’t usually an anxious person, but today there were pens and staplers hovering off of his desk. this was grounds for concern. still, he could read mob. he knew that the boy had been thinking hard about something, and that he would talk when he was ready to do it. arataka was in no rush anyways.

“what’s up, mob?” he asked, not looking up from his laptop. he didn’t want to make a big deal out of whatever was stressing the kid out, so he kept as nonchalant as possible.

“i, uhm,” there was shuffling, what arataka assumed was mob looking through his bag, and then walking up. he chose this time to look up from the blank word document he’d been staring at. in front of him stood mob, who was holding something (maybe a card?) in his right hand, using his right hand to scratch at his left.

“go on, mob, you can tell me what you need,” arataka gave a grin.

“well, i just wanted to give you this,” mob held out the ‘something’ that was in his hand. it was a card, as arataka had assumed. what he hadn’t seen coming, however, was the content of said card. it was a store bought one (which was expected, mob hated making handmade cards, because he could never fold them perfectly in half, and he didn’t know how to decorate them properly anyways) and it read in a very plane text ‘Happy Father’s Day!’. on the cover were two dogs, one of which had a mustache, and the other one of those hats with the spinny thing on top. arataka felt his lower lip quiver.

“what, uh,” he paused and cleared his throat. “what’s this, kid? want me to check if it’s good for your dad or something?” he asked, standing up. he was going to have a stroke or something from this kid, he was sure of it.

“well, no, it’s just for you,” mob nervously explained. clearly having two nervous people here wasn’t going to help anyone, so arataka decided he’d take one for the team and accepted the card. “obviously i know you aren’t my dad, but i just thought i’d give it to you since you always help me out, and stuff,” his voice kinda died out.

arataka opened the card. inside was a simple ‘you’re PAWesome’ in the same font from the front of the card. below that was mob’s handwriting, that could really only be described as sloppy. it read ‘thank you, shihsou. :) -Mob’ one one side. on the other read what arataka was decently sure read ritsu’s name, but it could also just be a mistake with a sharpie. below that, was the unmistakable glitter pen of teruki hanazawa. it was his name, as well as a star. and a little heart, then a smiley face. below that one was a very plain and sime ‘Shou’. at the very bottom was ‘TOME’ with a very interesting drawing of a… u.f.o.? he looked up with a raised eyebrow.

“ritsu wanted to sign too,” mob supplied. it looked less like ritsu had wanted to sign, and more like he’d been forced to do so, but reigen felt a pang in his heart nonetheless. “and shou, and teru, and tome, but uh, they couldn’t make it today,” mob explained. this wasn’t surprising. ritsu probably didn’t want to come at all, and shou and tome had an actual dad to deal with. he didn’t quite know what exactly teru would be doing, but it wasn’t his business anyways.

“it’s, uh, it’s okay if you don’t want it. i think they made me do it because i’m the most likely to-” mob cut himself off when arataka wrapped his arms tightly around the boy.

“thank you, mob. i appreciate it. i really do,” arataka said. he wanted to keep this kid in a hug forever, but after a few seconds, he let go. “you should go home now. tell your little friends they’re all in for a hug like that the next time i see them,” he threatened.

“i’m not too sure ritsu will be okay with that,” mob replied, going over to get his things.

“well, he shouldn’t have signed the card then,” arataka said as if it were obvious. mob seemed to think about this for a moment, before agreeing with a nod.

“okay then. well, i’ll see you tomorrow, shishou. happy father’s day,” mob waved as he headed out of the office. arataka stared at the card once the kid was gone, then placed it on his desk, where it would stay.

arataka was twenty eight years old, which was way too young to have a fourteen year old child, but here he sat with five of them. (well technically, two fourteen year olds, a fifteen year old, and two thirteen year olds)

(ritsu was quite literally kicking and screaming when reigen gave him a hug, shou seemed more confused than anything else, teru was surprised for a moment, but hugged back happily, and tome squeezed reigen so hard that he wondered if it’d be sad if his cause of death was squeezed too tight by a fifteen year old)

#mob psycho #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #teruki hanazawa #reigen arakata #kageyama shigeo #kageyama ritsu #suzuki shou #kurata tome #happy fathers day #reigen is a father idc

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moonlite-drabbles · 6 months

Text

Of Cats and Claws (and fathers too) - Rosaria & Diona

After finishing up one of her “jobs”, Rosaria stops by The Cat’s Tail for a drink, and ends up walking Diona home. A conversation about fathers ensues.

word count: 1,947

Rosaria was not thorough in her worship of the Anemo Archon. She did not know the songs, the prayers.

No, that was a lie. She knew one by heart.

Her polearm twisted in her hands, pointed edge striking true as she dashed behind the bastard.

The blades tip practically glided through their flesh, little resistance as ribs creaked and shattered as she drove it deep.

Hardly a second, and the man was run through, sputtering as his skewered hard gave out. It was then she spoke.

“Eternal rest upon the winds be granted unto him, O Archon, and let perpetual breeze carry his soul. May he rest on the wind. May the almighty archon of the wind bless us with his peace and strength. Amen.”

Rosaria leaned forward as she recited his final rights.

“Blessings of the anemo archon to you.”

She tore the polearm from his body, it thudding hard against the stone paths of Mondstadt. Next was her least favorite part. Cryo poured forward, climbing over and settling on the corpse like the frostbitten bodies of Dragonspine, staunching the bleeding before it could begin.

She couldn’t leave it in the city for its people to discover, but she also couldn’t simply dump it in the lake to bloat and rise to the surface.

She slung the stiff, frozen corpse over her shoulder. With an acrobat's ease, she vaulted up the building next to the alley. No one would spot her in the pitch black of the new moon.

Leaping over the city walls with ease, she slipped out of the city. No knight would ever look twice upon catching the ruby pendant on her chest reflected against the moon, or the favonius lance on her back, not that they often caught sight of her.

With little respect or dignity, the corpse was deposited into the lake, and Rosaria turned away, not even bothering to see where it sunk, the splash of the corpse into the water was enough confirmation for her.

She looked to the sky. Eight hours until daylight. The Cat's Tail should be almost closing. Enough time for her to grab a drink right as the little cat bartender is leaving.

She sighed. The Cat’s Tail was a good place to spend her night, under a slowly lightening sky, with a perfectly refreshing drink in her clawed fingertips.

Though, when she came to its door, she noticed the bartender was not the usual adult who took the graveyard shift. Instead, a cat eared tween stool on a stool behind the counter, wiping down a whiskey glass, a displeased knit to her eyebrows.

“Hello Diona.” Rosaria greeted, quietly easing the door closed as she walked in.

“Rosaria.” Diona lifted her chin to offer a cat-like glare. “Don’t suppose you’re here to drink, again?”

“Alcohol? Yes, preferably. One custom mix, with healing properties please.”

She had taken the landing over the walls straight to her heels. Their full ache wasn’t going away, and continuing to wear her stilettos weren’t helping in any way. Healing was a service seldom offered, and not even advertised by the tavern. Diona was one of the few in Mondstadt who’s learnt it, and she’d be swarmed otherwise. But, for the more keen of ear and reckless of hobbyists, you’d be served something to take the edge off injuries.

“That will be an upcharge. I’d suggest you get a virgin to ease up on the cost.”

Rosaria rolled her eyes. “Patrons give you a hard time this week? You’re even more catty than usual.”

Diana shot her the most disappointed cat stare she could manage, before hopping off her stool and strolling over to start making the drinks.

Diona had no tact when it came to mixing drinks, it was part of the fun, watching her toss various boozes and ambiguous ingredients into her mixer. Rosaria watched with muted amusement as Diona worked. Lizard tails, whiskey, ice… lightning bugs? She must’ve been feeling creative that night.

“Not really. Patrons haven’t been too bad overall, especially since that card game has been getting popular. People are only really ordering one or two drinks a visit, mostly coming to play against each other. Traveler was right about that. Good thing too! Less people to kick out at the end of the night. Margrit also increased drink costs. Something about better profits. Psh, so long as I don’t have to drag any boozehounds away from the bar.

“I’ve also been teaching and playing new players. Well! It’s more fun than mixing drinks.” She rambled on as she slammed the cover over her mixer and rapidly shook the poor thing upside down. “Honestly, Genius Invocation TCG might be the best thing to happen to this place.”

“I’d take it that work is more fun now?” Rosaria asked as Diona poured her drink.

“With less heavy drinkers, yeah! Course most things are better than the drunkyards. Increased prices means people looking to only drink are going to…” Diona’s hackles raised as she sneered, “Angel’s Share. Ugh. Diluc can keep ‘em.”

Rosaria huffed at the display before picking up her drink and taking a long sip. Perfect as always. Cool and soothing down her throat. She wiped her lips after downing the glass, uncaring for the lipstick smeared on her sleeve.

“Closing soon?”

Diona was ducked behind the counter, rustling through some bottles or whatnot, her voice a little muffled over the clattering and clanking of glass. “Just about! Margaret was busy tonight so I’m doing it alone.”

“Then you’ll be heading back alone I suppose.” Rosaria looked back to the door. “Springvale is a bit of a walk, and it’s dark. Are you planning on walking there on your own?”

“Oh, probably. Don’t worry, it's only ever hilichurls around there.”

“They’re more active at night. I’ll walk you.”

“Oh no, you don’t need to do that! I have my bow and my vision. Plus, I’m not a little girl anymore.”

“Things can still happen. I’m walking you.”

Diona huffed. “Well fine if you’re so worried! Ugh, adults. Aren’t you like, drunk, anyhow? “

“I think I can handle one drink of yours. Besides, you always go light on the alcohol.”

“N-no I don’t! I make it just how Margaret advertises it!”

“It’s fine, I won’t tell Margaret you’ve been skimping on the liquor.” Rosaria shot Diona a sly grin. “That is, so long as you let me walk you home.”

“I already agreed, didn't I? Ugh, you're more dramatic than Kaeya. Finish your drink then we’ll go.”

Rosaria, never one to waste time, tipped her glass up and downed the rest of her drink, clunking it back down on the counter. “Ready?”

“Yup,” Diona had grabbed her bag, walking out from behind the bar, headed straight for the door.

“Do you need to clean this before you go?” Rosaria gestured to the glass.

“Ehhh, opening is always pretty slow. Miss Margaret’s got it. No one comes in before my shift to drink anyways.” Diona was already by the door, reaching up to swing it open.

Rosaria nodded in simple understanding, before stalking after the young girl as she left The Cat’s Tail, headed down the streets of Mondstadt, and eventually, out the gates. Should be a quick walk,

Diona always walked with confidence, her head held high—so as to look others in the eye, considering she was very short—but Rosaria watched as the girl sighed heavily, shoulder’s sagging.

Rosaria wasn’t the most talkative, but something about the pure exhaustion weighing on this little girl made her pause, trying to find the right words. Perhaps it was the alcohol, making her particularly empathetic that night. Perhaps it was the fact she was coming down from the high of a kill.

Perhaps she just recognized the look in her eyes.

“Well, what’s got the weight of the world on your shoulders?”

“Heh?” Diona looked at her like she was crazy.

“You look exhausted.”

“Ugh, I am.” Diona groaned, “Long shift, and then after all that I gotta go home and make sure dads in bed, and then if he’s not I gotta come all the way back and check Angels Share and—and—ughhh.”

“Hm.” Rosaria replied. “I’m surprised he doesn’t go to The Cats Tail.”

“Ugh. He says he doesn’t cause—cause he doesn’t want me to watch him drink! Like! I already see him drink when he comes home! I don’t need to worry about him more when he’s drinking where I can’t watch him.”

“He’s not your responsibility, you know.”

“Of course he is. He’s my dad. I know you don’t have one—“

“Watch it.”

“—buuuut I do! And I love him, and he loves me! So yeah, he’s my responsibility! Just like I’m his.”

Rosaria probably should have stayed quiet, accepted that statement and simply made sure Diona got home safe that night. But maybe Rosaria was feeling pessimistic, or cruel, or tipsy, or, even, a bit… raw.

Either way she didn’t stop herself from what she said next.

“And yet, I’m the one walking you home, not him.”

Fiona took a second to process. One second, in which Rosaria watched as her hackles rose on her tail and she turned, teeth bared, to bite back;

“You don’t know anything about him! He’s my dad and I do! You're just another booze chugging adult who can’t talk right!”

“…relax.” Rosaria blinked down at the small bartender, before looking back down the path. “I know a thing or two about dads. I’ve had, like, four. They’re perfect when you’re young, but then you get older and things change. They spend less time on you, or give you hard choices, or disappear.”

“He’s not gonna disappear! And the only reason dad doesn’t spend more time with me is because of stupid stupid alcohol!”

The alcohol he chooses to drink, Rosaria wants to say, but she knows when she’s not being listened to. It’s the same mental circles sisters of the church pace themselves into when it comes to her actions and habits. The same dissonance on her targets’ faces as they excuse and try to justify themselves to their executor, as if the order wasn’t given.

It’s familiar, and it’s pathetic. As children often are. As Rosaria once was.

Still, Rosaria, despite all her cruelty, wasn’t mean. At least, not mean enough to not pity the young girl. “He goes to Angel’s Share usually, right? Just ask Diluc to cut him off early, or refuse service.”

“What! Ew no, I’m not talking to that-that—enabling boozehound! Not for a second!” Diona spat, arms crossed.

“He’d probably sympathize. He doesn’t like alcohol and his brother is a heavy drinker.”

“Kaeya? Yeah, he downs my drinks… do you really think he’d listen?”

“Probably. He’s got a soul under there, even if he’s got the resting face of someone who’s already tired of you. He’ll hear you out.”

“Psh, a soul? On someone in the wine industry? Doubt it. Still… I’ll try it.” Diona turned her face away, in discust, but still whispered out a small, “Thank you.”

Rosaria smiled, “Consider it part of your tip.”

“Hmpth. We’re almost there. Let’s hope Pops didn’t lock me out by accident… again.”

Rosaria waited at the end of the path up to her home, watching uninterestedly as Diona trotted up to her front door, shooting Rosaria a triumphant smile as it opened easily.

Diona waved goodbye, slipping inside her house in the same motion, too quick for Rosaria to wave back. Rosaria just sighed with a smile before turning back to the road back to Mondstadt City.

“Goodnight, Diona.” She said, trusting the wind to carry it to the girl.

Omg this has been almost finished for way too long. Sorry for not writing, haven’t been able to push anything out and now that I’m a senior with open campus I’m not attending study halls (which is when I usually write).

ANYWAYS have some character interaction/a little character study thing. Rosaria is a bit harsh but she’s trying (+ a little tipsy).

This may inevitably lead to Diluc deciding to be a father figure for Diona should she ever ask him to cut her dad off—but Diluc isn’t someone I really write for so the ideas free for anyone else! I just prob won’t write it

Personally I have zero daddy issues and have never drank so idk how well I did.

Happy Halloween!

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #platonic #Rosaria #genshin impact diona #rosaria genshin impact #cw death #cw alcohol #alcoholism #daddy issues

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beautifulmadnesss · 2 years

Text

"Slowly Sinking, Wasting" Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader Part 2

Summary: Rafe goes from being a total jerk to once again being there for her, only further complicating their relationship. Warning: child abuse and drug use.

A/N: the main character started to become more defined as I wrote this part (and the next one 😆) so I ended up just making her an OC, so her name is Cassie.

Part 1

I gave Rafe a quick smile as I passed by him to serve a nearby table. He glanced up at me, but didn't return my smile. Instead he looked rather nervous.

"Hi, what can I get for you?" I asked the customers in front of me while pulling out my server book to write down their order.

"I cannot believe you slept with a Pogue, dude and you're not even going to tell us her name?" Kelce's sentence pulled my attention away from my current task.

"There's no way she was that easy, especially not for you." Topper added.

"Excuse me, I said do you have any gluten free croutons for the salad?" The woman had the audacity to snap her fingers in front of my face after I had apparently waited too long to respond.

"I'm sorry, give me just a moment." I muttered as I was already walking away from their table.

I heard Rafe say something about the bathroom to his friends. Soon after we made it inside, his footsteps quickened, following me toward the utility closet.

"What the hell Rafe?" I exploded the moment the door shut behind us.

"Its not my fault you Pogues sunk Topper's boat."

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about and how does that have anything to do with you telling your stupid friends we hooked up?" I shot back.

"Pogues vs Kooks, that's how it's always going to be." He stated as if it was one of the fundamental laws of nature.

"I thought-" I stopped. "You know what forget it. What's the actual price of a bag?" I shoved my hand out expectantly, noting how it was already trembling despite the fact that I had a line before my shift this morning.

"You don't have to pay me." He said, already handing me a bag.

"Here's $40. I'm not owing you anything." I shoved the money against his chest and stormed out of the room before he could give it back.

I was so stupid to think he might actually be any different. He really is just a stuck up kook who thinks he's better than everyone else. Why did I let myself feel anything for him?

I hid in one of the staff bathroom stalls while I quickly snorted a line before returning to my shift so I didn't lose my job. It wasn't much longer before my boss sent me home early because multiple customers had complained about incorrect orders and slow service.

As usual JJ was not here, but my dad was, which meant I had to face him alone.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" He asked from the couch as I walked in.

"I got sent home." I replied, walking into the kitchen to look for something to eat.

"Rent's due." He said as he came into the kitchen behind me.

"I don't have much, they sent me home after only a couple tables and tips were shit today." It wasn't entirely true, but it wasn't a lie either. Anything was better than telling him I spent almost all the tips I earned on coke. Only he was allowed to use our money to buy drugs.

"Empty your pockets." I jumped, having not realized the he was right behind me. I turned around to face him, shrinking back against the counter as he trapped me by placing his hands on the counter on either side of me. My throat immediately dried up as I tried to think of some excuse. "Now!" He yelled, backhanding me hard enough that I immediately felt my lip split.

I forced my trembling hands into my pockets and pulled out the $37 I made in tips and the bag of coke I got from Rafe. He immediately snatched the wad of cash and stuffed it in his pocket. As soon as his eyes landed on the small plastic bag hanging from my hand, he laughed.

"Damn, I always thought JJ would be the one to turn to the hard stuff." Hot shame creeped up my neck and across my face. "What would he think if I told him about this?" He took the bag from my hand and dangled it in front of my face.

"Please, don't!" I begged. I couldn't fathom how angry JJ would be with me if he knew. I suppose it would at least get him to acknowledge me, which is more than he's done in weeks.

"Why not, huh? Don't want him thinking you're some degenerate like your old man?" He sneered, clearly enjoying having something to hold over my head. "Nah, I think I'll wait and see. Maybe I'll tell him, maybe I won't." He turned and left without another word, letting the door slam behind him.

I only waited a few seconds before running to my room and shutting the door behind me. The sobs escaped before I could stop them and my legs gave out. I heard the door open and immediately covered my mouth, not sure if it was my dad or JJ. Neither of them were a particularly great option, so I stayed where I was, crying into my hand until I didn't have anything left.

Eventually I got up and crawled into bed, simply kicking my shorts off and going to sleep without changing.

I woke up to JJ pounding on my door.

"Yeah, I'm up." I called back. He immediately came in. "That doesn't mean just come in!" I complained.

"Sorry." He turned away from me to face the door. I just scoffed and got up, grabbing the same shorts from last night, but quickly throwing on a different tank top. "Pope wants us down at Heyward's this morning."

"Me?" I asked, immediately hating how it sounded.

"Yeah, John B is missing, so we needed some extra help."

"Oh." I'm just the extra fill in. "I'm ready." I said, trying not to let the hurt seep into my voice.

He turned back around to face me, freezing as soon as we were face to face.

"Did he do that?" His thumb gently brushed over my lip, causing me to wince slightly and he pulled back instantly. I just nodded. "I'm sorry, I should've been here."

"It's fine." I said flippantly. "Let's go." There was a part of me that was happy to see that he cared, but I also thought of what my dad found last night and I still didn't know if he would tell JJ about it. If he ever did, I knew JJ would hate me the same way he hated our dad and I couldn't bear that.

JJ, Kie, and Pope were talking about some fight they got in last night with Kelce, Topper, and Rafe at the movies that they didn't invite me to. I was pissed that once again they were leaving me out, but I also realized that must have something to do with what Rafe was saying about a Pogue sinking Topper's boat.

"Pope, there's someone here to see you." Mr. Heyward interrupted their conversation and we all looked up to see Shoupe hovering behind him, handcuffs in hand.

If you would've asked me the person I thought would've been least likely to sink Topper's boat, it would've been Pope. Topper himself was more likely to sink it than Pope. He was an honor student and basically a Boy Scout. The rest of us broke the rules on a daily basis, but not Pope, he was always the voice reason. There was no way he did this and we were all following after Shoupe as he led Pope to his car in handcuffs, trying to tell him this.

"It wasn't him!" JJ yelled so his voice could be heard above all of us talking at the same time. It worked and we all turned to him as he said, "it was me." He was walking toward Shoupe and still talking, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. The blood was pounding in my ears and I couldn't hear anything over the ringing. It wasn't that I didn't think JJ did it, that was more believable than Pope, but I couldn't believe that he was going to be arrested. We had been so distant lately, but there was no way I was letting my brother go to jail.

"No, let him go!" I launched forward and because I had stood so still and silent, no one expected it and there was no one to stop myself as I started pulling on Shoupe's shirt and hitting him. Instantly he let go of JJ and tried to grab my arms, but I just kept hitting.

"Cassie, stop!" JJ yelled, but couldn't do anything with his hands in handcuffs. Pope was frozen in place and Kie looked on helplessly. Mr. Heyward was the only one to act, but he was only successful at stopping me momentarily. "Cass, please, don't!" JJ was begging me, but it was like all the emotions I had shoved down were coming out at once.

I felt the cool metal on my wrist before I heard it snap shut. "Cassie Maybank, you're under arrest for assaulting a police officer." Shoupe was out of breath, but was able to use my handcuffed hand as leverage to pull it behind my back and secure the other side of the cuff to my other wrist.

"You can't do that!" JJ yelled.

"Both of you, just calm down, this is not helping," Mr. Heyward cut in.

"I'm just going to take her down to the station to cool off. If she cooperates, she can go free when your dad comes to get you." Shoupe said, while pushing me into the back of his truck. I stopped fighting, both because it wasn't worth it and because I just realized how much trouble we were both in. JJ slid in next to me and we shared a look, knowing the wait in jail was going to be nothing compared to what our dad was going to do to us when he picked us up.

A/N: thank you so much for the support on part 1! Part 3 is up!

#imagine #obx imagine #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #maybank!reader

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hollythehills · 1 year

Text

Chapter One: Running On Carbs

First Fanfic guysss <3

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It was quiet. As usual.

You mean. You would hope so, right? It is a library after all. But there weren't many people there and although you enjoyed sharing your love of literature with other people you had to admit you liked it like this. There were no children running amuck, parents leaving them here in hopes that some poor librarian will feel bad enough to watch over them, or maybe even hoping that the child will sit down and read a book. There were a couple of teenagers out and about but they were always quiet, too afraid of drawing any attention to themselves. You tried your best to make sure they especially felt at home here, because this was your safe space when you were their age. Probably why you work here now.

But you're not complaining. After all, you were getting paid to read a majority of your day now that you mostly work front desk. Sure you have to deal with the occasional missing book or library card, or angry parent (always for the worst reasons, one time a lady came in demanding why you kept a copy of Catcher in the Rye, as if you specifically had any say in what the library did and did not carry), but all in all it was a nice gig. At that moment you were reading some fantasy trilogy that was just another euphemism for racism without actually including racism, a hierarchy within a hierarchy. But the writing style was easy to follow and refreshing so are you really to blame for becoming so immersed in your novel?

Unfortunately yes. The cough in front of you seems incredibly adamant on getting your attention. You look up from your book ready to help and are met with the gaze of...

Well actually it took you a second to realize you were actually meeting the gaze of anything. Instead of eyes you were met with eyesockets which would be surprising if not for the skeleton they were attached to.

Your eyes widened trying to take in the sight. The skeleton was incredibly tall and wore a beanie. He had on a sweater and some type of gardening pants. He kind of loomed over you in a way, he didn't seem to be trying to intimidate you, but he was absolutely having the affect.

You rose your chin and put on your best customer-service smile, "Hello, sir. How may I help you?", your voice carried to the skeleton clearly, without a hint of a waver.

Wordlessly, the skeleton placed a book on the counter and nodded to it. You caught the cover and it seemed to be a cookbook. You cocked your head, waiting for some kind of clarification. You hadn't ever seen this skeleton here but you assumed he had been here before with how confidently he walked to the counter. Perhaps he was mute, you thought.

You asked carefully, "Do you have a library card, sir?"

There was a pause before he cocked his head. Almost like a puppy. You were about to ask again before he finally spoke, "no."

There was another pause where you waited a moment for him to say more, but he didn't. He had an incredibly deep voice that reverberated through the small corner counter that you sat at and although it puzzled you that someone who probably didn't have vocal cords was talking you nodded and pulled out the forms from the shelf next to you.

"I can get a card set up for you. I'll just need your name and email."

The skeleton stared again, looking down at you from his spot in front of the counter. He seemed confused again so you explained, "The name is for our system, just so we have a clue about what person has what book." You looked up from the form, "If you want I can use a nickname, it doesn't really have to be your 'legal name'," you used air quotes, "and I promise I'm not a snitch." Your lips curled into a natural smile and the skeleton seemed to relax a bit, though he still seemed on edge. His hands were in the pockets of his rough pants, which made him seem even bigger than he was, almost puffed up in a way. Finally after a moment he said quietly, "don't have an email."

Oh.

"Oh." You said, very intelligently, "That's no problem, if you'd like I can put a phone number in the system too. Or we can set up an email now if I could help with that."

He nodded gruffly, muttering a thanks while you waved him into a room behind the counter. The room was open to the rest of the library, but it was a little more private and you figured the skeleton would like that better than the open counter. He followed and watched as you got up from your chair. He eyelights followed you to the doorway and he trailed behind you, careful to keep a bit of a distance.

"Alright," you sat down with a huff and a flinch at the dull sting in your lower back, it was sore from your mattress (which was beginning to show springs on the outside instead of the inside), you needed to get it replaced but you didn't have the funds for that right now. He seemed to notice with how he eyed you warily, and you quickly tried to wave his concern away, "Oh don't worry about me. Bad back."

He nodded, seeming to understand. It surprised you that he didn't ask any questions, though it shouldn't have considering he's said less than ten words the entire conversation. Maybe it was only because you were so used to the looks and the questions. It was probably a human thing, the nosiness. Heh. Nose. Skeleton.

"Alright," you repeated, shaking that line of thought away. "Do you have a phone with you?"

He raised his brow bone but nodded, "yeah."

"Cool, so open an internet browser and go to..."

The whole ordeal took about fifteen minutes, only because the skeleton, who you knew was named Oak now, didn't seem to completely grasp the whole technology thing. But you get it, technology on the surface is pretty different than the underground so you didn't make a big deal about it.

You led him to the desk to finally check out the books and after you do he stops for a moment.

"hey, uh. I just." He looks at the books and nods, "thanks. for all the help." He looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn't and you smile.

"'Course, hon. Glad to help."

That was the first time you saw him.

But it was not the first time he saw you.

He had been watching from afar. At first it wasn't on purpose. He saw you on the other end of the bread isle at the grocers that he frequented. That became his favorite grocers, because it seemed to be yours. He didn't know what it was about you. At first. He just assumed that he liked you physically. The way your arms looked like they knew how to kneed bread (something he had been doing a lot of lately, since he finally had the time), the way your nose was just a little too big to support those glasses you always wore so that they sat on the very edge. Your legs were big, strong. But they still had a jiggle to them. He knew you really liked bread, he saw you in a bakery once and he thinks he actually saw your eyes sparkle staring at all of the baked goods. He tried it the same day, a couple hours after you left. It wasn't creepy, he said to himself. It was just curiosity. The sour dough there was fine. He knew he could do better.

He found himself constantly thinking about you. Not in an obsessive way, it was very casual. When he was baking he wondered if you would enjoy the cupcakes or the macaroons or the banana bread he was making. During game night he thought about whether you were competitive or not. He hoped you were. Because he wasn't and playing was only fun if someone playing the game was actually trying to win.

When he was out with his brother he spotted you in a cafe. You were in a booth that would've perfectly fit him and his brother too. He convinced Poplar to come into the cafe with him, even though it was a little too crowded for his taste. There weren't a lot of people, but humans tended to stare at him and his brother, maybe because they looked a little menacing, o maybe just because they were monsters he could never really tell. He knew he and his brother were definitely tall, compared to humans. So that could be the reason. But to believe that it were the only reason is naive, he told himself. And he was anything but that.

He ordered a red eye, he didn't know what that was but...c'mon. It's pretty funny. The kid taking his order smiled when he said it, he was glad someone appreciated the joke because his brother surely didn't.

"Sans Please, We Are In Public." His brother huffed but there was a hint of a grin on his skull that Oak saw clearly. He chuckled gruffly and went to sit at a table that had a good view of you. You were cuddled into your booth, a book in one hand with your fingers wrapped around a mug in the other. The drink seemed to be very light in color and the empty sugar packets on the table told him that you liked your coffee sweet. He laughed a bit in his head, how funny is it that he baked all of these sweet things and doesn't like sweets. And here you are. A solution to that problem. It was funny, but just a thought, he told himself. You were just a little crush. He had heard people call it a 'hallway crush', when you see someone around you think is really attractive. And then you keep seeing them around, and now you know all of this stuff about them and you can't really do anything with it but you really want to get to know them better but you cant really work up the courage to just go up to them and say hi so. Yeah. A predicament.

Poplar nudged him. He sat across him in the booth, but because the booth is against the opposite wall from where you were sitting they both have full sight of you. Which means Poplar definitely saw his staring at you.

"She's Cute." He grinned at Oak, his eye-lights twinkling behind his thick glasses. Now that he was looking, Oak saw that his brothers glasses were really similar to yours, though yours were thinner than Poplar's. Oak's face dusted in a light blush, the color a rusty red. He nodded and hoped his brother would come off the topic.

He did not. "We Should Go Talk To Her."

Oak's face snapped up to meet his brother's face. That... didn't seem like a good idea. He knew that you were pretty nice for a human, but he had never seen you interact with a monster before and he did not want to run the risk of you somehow being a monster hater. What if you were a complete bigot? He had no way of knowing. All he knew was that you liked coffee and bread. He was sure bigots also like coffee and bread. Who didn't like coffee and bread? He eyed the book you were reading. Tales from the Cafe. Okay that wasn't a book that bigots usually read, but it wasn't unheard of. "uh. i don't know about that, bro."

Poplar did not look shocked. And that is because he wasn't. Oak was a homebody, it was very rare that he ever found interest in another person that did not live in their house. He did not have friends, and although he claimed that it didn't bother him, Poplar had the suspicion that he was a little lonelier than he led on. "Why Not? I'm Sure She'd Love Someone To Talk To Right Now." That was a lie. Poplar was almost certain that if someone had interrupted him while he was reading at a coffee shop alone, sitting a booth in a coffee shop alone, and sipping coffee alone and someone interrupted him he would be many things among perplexed. And he knew that his brother knew that. But he couldn't squander this moment of interest that he saw in him What if his brother had found a datemate? And Poplar did have to admit, you were quite attractive. He wouldn't mind seeing you around the house everyday.

Oak shook his head a little. "naw, you've got the wrong idea." His brother squinted his eyes at him. He looked away, "I mean. not completely wrong. i just recognized her from that bakery we started going to."

Poplar looked even more delighted, which Oak thought wasn't possible. He practically vibrated in his seat when he said, "Perfect! You Two Have Something In Common."

"i don't think bread is something really significant to bond over, paps."

Poplar lifted his brow bone, "Now We Both Know That Is Completely Untrue. You And Red Ended An Argument With A Focaccia."

"that was different."

Poplar looked smug, but didn't push it any further. His brother was a procrastinator, but he knew that if he really cared about something he would do it. Poplar cringed inwardly at the choice of words in his inner monologue, but he knew what he meant.

The coffee and treats arrived (coffee for Oak, treats for Poplar) and it turns out that a 'Red Eye' is just a black coffee with two shots of espresso. It was very good, Oak finished it all and hoped he wouldn't be too jittery later. His caffeine tolerance was pretty high but his anxiety was higher. He watched his brother eat the chocolate chip biscuits they bought. They looked pretty good, enough fluff and the layers looked decent. Poplar ripped off a small piece and handed it to Oak. He ate it, chewing thoughtfully. It was definitely shipped frozen, but otherwise it was fine. He nodded and Poplar smiled. Oak glanced at you. Still wrapped up in your book, but one of the baristas must have brought you some food while he was talking to Poplar because he saw a plate of three biscuits at you table. Chocolate chip.

They left before you did. You didn't see them, but they saw you.

And then Oak saw you at the library. He was only trying to find some books for his brother. It was his week to cook dinner and he wanted something different. Oak didn't see you until he was done looking through the library. You were just there. He wasn't even looking for you. But there you were, and he guessed now he knew one more thing about you. Where you worked.

You asked him for a library card. He definitely had his brother's card in his pocket. He wasn't a serious reader. But he guessed it was never too late to start.

You helped him get everything he needed, an email (which he definitely had, but now he had one especially for your place of work. you know. just in case), and he has his own library card now. He found out a couple of things that day.

One: You are definitely not a monster hater.

Two: He already kind of knew this from the cafe experience, but when you're reading you have no sense of your surroundings.

and

Three: He really liked you. And he didn't think it was just a little crush anymore.

#undertale #fanfic #fan fiction #reader insert #x Reader #sans x Reader #horrortale #ht!sans #ht!papyrus #reverse harem #undertail

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somethingusefulfromflorida · 1 year

Note

My old job was at in sales and my boss was a worthless fuck and a bunch of the district managers came in and he was giving a speech about how we all sucked but under his management blah blah blah.

And this guy I worked with, right in the middle of his speech, ducked behind me and said in a high pitched voice "you're the worst manager ever" and then popped out and was like " oh thank God someone finally brought it up. District guys? Here's a list of like 20 firable and 10 legally actionable things Manager does every day, since you're here to see how he does his job" and went on for like 10 minutes, just talking over him while he was yelling at him that he was fired, that he would show up just long enough to unlock the safe and then leave and turn off his phone like 6 days a week and then would put in the system that he was working damn near 60 hours a week, that he more than once just took stuff home to mess around with and then would ring it out as damaged and just keep it, that he had signed a bunch of people up for service plans and then just didn't put them in the system and pocketed the money, that he claimed to be an ex-marine- had actually been sort of pivotal to him getting the job- and he just straight up wasn't. When he kind of ran out of stuff to say he just put his lanyard with his name tag down and was like "I emailed all of the proof to corporate from my phone like 30 seconds after he started his speech, good luck covering up what morons you are, i quit"

My district managers took the manager outside to talk and he just.. never came back. I found out later he moved to Idaho to join some weird commune/cult.

That definitely beats my worst boss story.

I was a cashier at Winn Dixie once and I sliced my palm on an exposed grocery store checkout counter scale, but my boss wouldn't let me go to the bathroom to clean it out, insisting instead that I wad up some paper towels in my fist and continue scanning customers' items one-handed. I finished my shift, went home to get changed, then went back to the store to hand in my uniform and quit (because they would have taken it out of my last paycheck if I had kept it)

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ironmanfridgemagnet · 2 years

Text

The 4 Times You Knew Garrett Was In Love With You And The One Time He Said It.

Garrett McNeill x Reader

"seeing as you're doing garrett x reader requests ..... any chance i could get a "watching garrett fall in love with you" one shot????"

Requested by @emobabeyy <3

It started with the cute nicknames. He'd called you 'Doll' in his usual, teasing tone - but something about it felt different that time. Maybe it was the way his gaze lingered on you for a moment too long, or the way he laughed and looked away from you when you asked him if you had something on your face.

Whatever it was, it was different, new, but a welcome change all the same.

The nicknames didn't stop after that - not that they'd ever gone in the first place, Garret having called you 'pretty girl' the first time he met you. Not that you'd want them to stop - they were sweet, endearing and made you feel special.

You never noticed him calling anyone else the sweet names that seemed to be reserved just for you, and it made your heart beat faster and your cheeks grow warm each time he used one.

Unfortunately, you weren't sure if you'd ever get over them.

However, you were sure that Garret liked you, had a crush on you, whatever you wanted to call it. And your thoughts were only confirmed as Jonah cornered you in the break room one day, telling you in hushed whispers how Garret would not stop gushing about you.

——————————————————————

Then it was the random acts of kindness. He’d make your coffee for you; a fresh, steaming cup of the liquid, and just the way you liked it too, would be sat in front of the seat next to his in the break room each morning.

If he went out of the store to buy his lunch, he’d bring back something for you. Meatballs from his favourite Italian place, a cupcake from that cute, little bakery Jonah forced him to go to, a sandwich from a store that wasn’t cloud 9.

When he got snacks from the vending machine, he accidentally put in the wrong numbers, your favourite snack falling out, so he just had to give it to you instead.

How he always seemed to have plasters tucked away in his pocket for when you inevitably gave yourself a paper-cut, or tripped over a stack of boxes (or your own feet) and grazed your hands and knees.

Of course, you thanked him profusely, and always offered to pay him back, to do it for him next time, but you were always met with a refusal - that he didn’t expect anything in return, he was just thinking of you.

——————————————————————

Next came the touching, no matter when or where you were.

In the break room, knees touching beneath the table, a warm mug of coffee that he had made you that you took occasional sips from in between your hands. His hand falling to rest over the back of your chair, subconsciously pulling you into his side, or, resting gently on your near-connected knees rubbing small circles into the flesh.

Leaning against the customer service counter, Garrets hand fiddling with the zips of your jacket or a loose thread on your top. His hand fiddling with the material and carefully avoiding brushing against the skin of your stomach or wrist - wherever he had decided to mess about that time.

His hand on your lower back as he escorted you across the car park when it was late, dark or when his hand rested on your thigh as he drove you home; claiming walking or waiting for the bus was too dangerous so late at night.

You relished in the closeness, though you wouldn’t admit it, and you knew even more so that Garret was falling for you.

——————————————————————

Your favourite thing by far thought was how he wanted you to share in the little delights of the day.

Seen a cute dog come into the store? Damn right you’re getting a photo. New song he’s listened to? You’re getting a recommendation or he’s giving you one of his headphones. Free donut holes in the store cafe? He’s stealing more then a handful for you to split.

No matter what it was - big or small - Garret wanted you to enjoy it just as much as he did. And the thought of his actions alone were enough to realise, after all, you were falling for him as much (if not more) then he seemed to be falling for you.

——————————————————————

After months and months of Garrets sweet, sweet actions you knew for sure how he felt about you - but weren’t sure you could say the same.

You’d tried to show Garret how you felt, never having the confidence to tell him outright, but it never seemed to come across clear enough for him.

Or so you thought.

It was as normal of a morning as it could’ve been: you trudged through the store and into the break room, where a fresh cup of coffee sat waiting for you next to a brown paper bag. Garret flashed you a bright smile, his toothy grin bringing one onto your own face.

As you slouched down into the chair next to him, you gently brought the brown paper bag towards you, peeking inside to find a still-warm croissant from the bakery between Garrets place and the store. One of your favourites. You pulled the delicious pastry out of the bag, taking a big bite and washing it down with the sweet, warm coffee.

“Thank you Gare.” You whispered, as always, enjoying the sweet treat, though not as much as his presence.

“Of course doll, you know it’s no issue.”

“I don’t thank you enough as I should though.” You muttered back, continuing your explanation as Garrets eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “You’re so good to me - too good to me - and I should thank you more. ‘Cause you really are the best Gare and, you know-“

“I know doll. Me too.”

——————————————————————

Guys ironmanfridgemagnets evil arc is over and I’m finally getting onto the requests that I have. I’m so sorry they have taken so long, but if you’ve sent anything in, it’ll be coming soon now!!

I’ve got a couple Garrett ones and a couple Marcus ones too, so if you want any more of that (or someone else like Jonah) just drop me an ask or a message and I’ll get to it soon enough!!

Also I’m posting this from my phone 😬 so I can’t put a keep reading thing because tumblr hates mobile users, so sorry about that and I will add it ASAP.

New part of SOTS this Wednesday so stay tuned!!

As always have a lovely week! <33

#superstore garret imagine #superstore x reader #cloud 9 #superstore imagine #garrett mcneill x reader #superstore garret x reader #garret mcneill

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milkywaygg · 2 years

Text

Time’s Passing Ch 6

Despite the awkwardness between them, there was no doubt that crashing at Linnie’s had it perks alongside its tension. For the last 10,000, Darren had to stress out over whether or not he was even going to be able to eat the slop slapped down on his tray, or if he was gonna have to give it up to his neighbor next to him, who was usually twice as big and strong as he was. Now, he had a delicious, warm meal placed in front of him every breakfast, lunch, and dinner, made with actual food instead of garage the kitchen staff fished up. Darren also took great satisfaction in sleeping in the full-sized bed Linnie had set up in the guest room, feeling as if he was slept on a cloud despite the mattress being a cheaper brand, but whatever. It beat sleeping on a cardboard fold just barely off the ground.

Daren rubbed his eyes as he left his cloud of a bed and made his way into the living room, pouring himself some cereal and milk before deciding to turn on the TV, making sure he was awake before he got a crack on the job searching. After he had found the milk and closed the refrigerator door however, there was a lime-green sticky note with cursive handwriting on it.

“Darren-

I’ve gone to work and had decided to go meet up with a new friend for dinner, so will be an hour or two late getting home. I’ve bought you some frozen meals in the last grocery bill in case you get hungry. Please don’t forget to pick up the groceries. Should be ready around 1 or 2.

Have a good day! I love you so so much. Please call if you need anything.

-Papa”

Darren groaned slightly as he finished reading the note; he really REALLY didn’t feel like going anywhere today, but it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice. After all, how would they eat? Darren checked the time to see that it was 11:30, giving him time to finish his breakfast and take a shower, getting ready to poof himself to the grocery store, giving that he was sure his car had been confiscated by a towing company.

After he had gotten ready, Darren took his wand and teleported himself to the supermarket, flying up to the customer service desk, towards a rather bored looking employee.

“Hey, I’ve got an order for a Linnie Cosma? Should be ready now.”, Darren said. The worker didn’t respond, but looked at the screen of order names lazily and then flew towards the back, grabbing several bags and throwing them on the counter, handing them to Darren. “Uhh thanks.”

As Darren left the line and parked himself at the corner to re-adjust his arms, he noticed that the environment has gotten colder, and his back seemed to be leaning on something. Turning around, he spotted a 6 pack of Blue Moon Beer, making Darren’s mouth drool and almost immediately grab a pack, shoveling it between all the grocery bags Linnie was having him carry.

Wait….Linnie would kill him if he ever saw that Darren was keeping beer in the house. He knew how much Linnie disapproved of alcoholic beverages ever since they had all lived with Nora. But then again, Darren was going to use his own money….he did what Linnie had asked him to do…and Darren was no fool. He could just stick the beer behind the rest of the groceries, or drink them all before Linnie had gotten home. It wasn’t like Linnie could see much without his glasses anyways so…ah, what the hell? Darren took the case of beer and paid for it with cash, finally poofing himself back home and loaded the groceries in their proper places, making sure the beer was well-hidden behind the two cartons of Milk and the pitcher of Ice Tea.

“Oh Starla was such a sweetheart today! We had such a good time, didn’t we love? Didn’t we? Yes we did!”, Linnie cooed, pinching the toddler’s cheeks as she giggled, making Linnie’s heart brighten as he looked at the proud parents, “Oh, she was no trouble. They’re never any trouble. Just taking care of these little ones..why, I just think they’re my reason for getting out of bed. Not to be dramatic haha.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet? We’re so lucky to have you as her daycare teacher.”, Starla’s mother had said, smiling alongside her husband, who took their daughter from Linnie, “I’m guessing you have a lot of experience from your own children, Mr Linnie?”

“Oh yes, I’ve raised three children up to adulthood. All 3 of them are my pride and joy.”

“Oh really? Have you thought about another one? You still look so young, and I’m sure that little boy or girl would be so lucky to have you as a father.”

“Yes well..haha..”, Linnie stuttered, blushing a little bit, though he couldn’t help but smile brightly, “As much as I’d love to, I just haven’t had the chance. I’ve just been so busy with other things that I haven’t even considered having a fourth.”

“Haha well, we’re headed off. It’s our dinner date this evening and we’re trying to make it a family night.”, the father said, kissing little Starla on the cheek before the couple left, making Linnie’s heart melt. With all the kids gone, Linnie began shut down, picking up all the toys and putting them where they go, making sure all the children had been signed out with the correct date and time, making sure all equipment was sanitized, and turning out all the light before leaving the building for the day, poofing himself towards the sports grill where Delia said she wanted to meet up. Smiling, he took a seat across from her and Dani, who smiled cheerfully back at her.

“Mr Linnie, this place has really good chips.”, Dani cheered, snaking on the chips in front of her. Linnie laughed as he took a seat, blushing slightly at Delia.

“How are you, Delia?”

“Fine. Just got out of a long day at work before picking this one up from school.”, Delia said, ruffling the 5 year old’s hair, “How was your day?”

“Good. Was pretty much like every other day haha. Working.”

“Oh really. What do you do for a living, Linnie? I don’t remember if I asked you that already or..”

“No no it’s ok. I don’t mind. I’m a nursery teacher at the Fairy World Academy.”, Linnie said, rather proudly, “I’ve got both my Bachelors and Masters in child development and education, and I’m hoping to work on my doctorate someday.”

“Really? What made you quit?”

“I uhm…I ended up getting pregnant after I met this woman uhm…I don’t really want to talk about her if that’s alright.”

“Yea yea sure. I totally get it.”, Delia said, sipping on her soda, “I’m a chemist for a company that manufactures toothpaste.”

“Wow that’s impressive. I don’t think I understand a lick of math or science to really appreciate chemistry personally, haha, but it seems like a really interesting job.”

“Oh, it is when you blow up the lab and turn your own head into a frog.”, Delia laughed, bursted out laughing, making Linnie slightly confused. Delia smiled at Linnie, “I accidentally used way too much magic powder when mixing the chemicals. That spell wouldn’t ware off for a week.”

“Yeah! Aunty Delia wouldn’t stop ribbiting! Ribbit! Ribbit!”, Dani ribbited, making Delia blush in embarrassment and Linnie chuckle slightly.

“Well, I gotta say, your niece is absolutely adorable. I just love kids. Does she live with you or..”

“Oh no. She’s just visiting while her mommy and daddy are out on a work trip.”, Delia said, “Didn’t you say you had a son?”

“Yes well, technically I have two sons and one daughter, but they’re all my pride and joy.”, Linnie smiled, before reminding himself of what that couple at the school had told him. A fourth child? Was he ready? But even if he was, it wasn’t like Linnie could just pull a baby out of thin air. It was way too early to ask Delia to “accidentally” forget to use protection, and it wasn’t like he knew anyone else like that, but maybe he could adopt? But how would Darren feel about that, and where would he even start? What about baby stuff? Maybe he could use his older children’s stuff-

“Linnie, are you there?”, Delia asked, snapping her fingers in front of him, earning his attention and a small squeak from the male.

“O-oh dear, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to doze off.”

“Linnie, it’s fine, don’t worry about it. Oh look, our foods here!”

Around 9 that evening, Linnie had finally came home, trying to keep himself awake from his night out. He looked around; Darren was no where to be found in the living room or kitchen, and his bedroom light was turned off. Linnie shrugged, assuming that his son had gone off to bed early that evening. Ready to hit the way himself, Linnie took off his velvet, green coat and hung it up in the closet, before floating towards the kitchen, grabbing a glass and setting it on the counter next to the refrigerator. Opening it, Linnie grabbed one of the milk cartons resting on the top shelf and unscrewed the lid, pouring some into the glass before reaching to put the milk back, pausing suddenly.

Right in front of his face was a half-drunk 6 pack of Blue Moon beer staring right at Linnie’s fact mockingly. Linnie felt his body shake as he set the milk carton down and tried to gather his feelings, trying to keep himself from making a scene. All his memories of his previous relationship seemed to flow back in and stab Linnie in the heart multiple times, replaying all the crashes and stains numerous alcohol bottles had caused to the walls, and all the times he was threatened if he didn’t go to the liquor store for his wife. Unable to steady himself, Linnie took a seat at the kitchen table, ignoring his glass of milk melting near the refrigerator. Where did that beer come from? He didn’t buy it. He never bought it for himself. Wait…

“Darren Cosma, get in here right now!”, Linnie said, raising his voice for once in his life.

#fairly oddparents #fanfiction #drama

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