#called my phone a couple of times with the phone from a customer service counter but he~~ didn’t~~ pick up~~~~~~~~~

[deus-ex-mona]

it’s that time of week again…

[specialinterestshows]

Go on a short road trip to meet up with your girlfriend in this particularly long chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic, Absolute Smokeshow.

Warnings for this section: Suspicious/unpleasant strangers (can be interpreted as racism, depending on the reader), dirty talk, social/crowd anxiety, parasocial media

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Absolute Smokeshow (Part 63 of ?): The Best Planned Lays

“Heading out now! Should get there after the show ends. Love you!”

After hitting “send”, you switched over from the texts between you and Rhea to the ones between you and Marisol. The two of you had been messaging almost constantly since the smoke session at your apartment; she had left you with a parting kiss that had been difficult to get off your mind.

“Going to be driving for a while. You can still send messages, I just won’t see them for a couple hours.”

Rhea’s text reached you right after you hit send on Mari’s:

“Love you, babe - see you soon”

It ended with her usual black heart, making you bite your lip and smile. You’d been looking forward to tonight all week.

Checking that you had everything you needed one last time, you set your phone inside your bag before looking through your CDs and popping in your favorite.

The first hour of your trek flew by - you hummed and sang along to the music, sipping water when you had the cruise control on. Every now and then, you would remember what awaited you and couldn’t help but get excited at the thought.

After your journey reached an hour and a half’s time, the water caught up with you and you began looking for a rest stop - casually at first, then more urgently.

“I’llbuysomethinginaminutesorry!” you call across the diner whose lot you parked in, dashing past the tables toward the “customers only” sign above the restroom door.

“You better!” an exhausted voice shouts back from the register as you quickly shuffle into the bathroom.

“So what’ll it be?”

The voice startled you as you walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, almost running into the woman from the register. She looked you over warily, eyes resting on your bag for more than a second.

“Your order,” she clarified, widening her stance as if she expected you to run.

“Let me take a look at what you have,” you tell her, slowly walking over to the counter as you took out your wallet to show her you did, in fact, intend on paying for something.

This seemed to satisfy her, but did nothing to brighten her mood as she walked behind the counter.

“Hmmm…” you looked through the glass at the ready-made goods, spotting an appetizer you could easily devour before continuing your drive, “Can I get a serving of that?”

“For here or to go?” she asked, unenthusiastically reciting the line as the plate your order sat on was taken from the shelf.

“To go, please.”

As nice as the diner seemed - quiet, with only a few other customers - you knew eating in the parking lot would get you back on the road faster. The service wasn’t exactly enticing you to eat in either.

“Figures,” she mumbled - no doubt going off-script - before boxing your food and putting it into a bag along with plastic silverware and some napkins.

“That’s your total,” the woman pointed to the numbers on the display that faced you, not making eye contact even when you handed her the payment.

“No refunds,” she said, her hand resting where the receipt was printing before tearing it and handing you your copy and the order. Then, flatly, “Have a nice day.”

“You too!” you called back as you skipped back out to the parking lot, food in hand. Your cheeriness had as much to do with being closer to your destination as it did with being free from that grueling social interaction.

As soon as you slung your bag back into the car, something fell out. Setting your food down on the seat and picking your phone up off the ground, you notice Marisol had sent you two messages.

“Stay safe, belleza” made you grin, but the text that followed it took a moment to process:

“Want to spend the night at mine next week? All night”

Your face warmed at the pink heart that ended the text and you scrambled, almost dropping your phone again in your hurry to reply:

“You know I do!”

Feeling giddy as you cleared your seat, you sat down and opened your bag of food, leaving the car door open as you began your meal. Changing text conversations, you tap “Mami,” type out your message, and look it over before sending it:

“Hey babe, taking a snack break before hitting the road again. Just wanted to let you know that next week I’m going to be staying the night with a woman I met at the bar. See you soon!”

It wasn’t long before you finished your hurried meal and continued your drive.

This second stretch seemed longer - your anticipation, the fact that there wasn’t a trace of sunlight left, or both were likely to blame. Focusing on the road ahead, illuminated by your headlights, you idly thought about how your night with Rhea and Dom might go. At least, your thoughts were idle when they began - soon you had to think of something else as you began to shift in your seat, your body responding all too readily.

When you finally pull into the parking lot of the venue, you turn into the nearest open spot to take another look at the instructions Rhea sent you - it was difficult to find the doors to the right part of the building without them.

Somehow, you didn’t expect to open your phone to so many messages: Marisol and two of your friends, but no reply from your girlfriend to your news.

You looked at the text from Marisol first:

“Can’t wait to take my time with you”

A blush warmed your cheeks as you smiled, remembering the charming way she winked when you saw the winking face in the message.

Deciding your friends could wait, you pulled up the instructions to find where you were supposed to pick up Rhea and Dominik.

Meandering around the large parking lot, you finally found it - crowded by fans being kept a few feet away from the exit by two security guards.

Some of the people in the small crowd had signs and all of them seemed to be pointing their phones at the doors in anticipation.

Taking a closer look, you realize most of the signs have the words hastily scrawled onto the poster board.

“Rhea Ripley’s future girlfriend” read one.

“This is my bisexuality!” another stated.

You hadn’t realized just how many queer fans your girlfriend had.

Parking in a nearby space, you pull out your phone again, messaging Rhea:

“I’m here!”

As you waited for a response, you moved on to your friends’ messages:

“Congrats on going public!” the first one said. Even without context, you felt a sudden sinking sensation in the pit of your stomach.

Rather than reply, you checked your other friend’s message in the hopes that it might shed some light:

“Have you seen this?” they asked, providing a link after the text.

You followed the link, heart pounding.

“Rhea Ripley Interview” the title read, followed by today’s date.

“Cathy Kelley here,” the video opened on a smiling brunette holding a microphone, her name appearing at the bottom of the screen, “reporting on tonight’s events with the Judgment Day’s eradicator, Rhea Ripley.”

The camera panned out a bit to reveal your girlfriend standing next to the WWE correspondent, powerful as ever, her name also appearing onscreen.

“It’s an honor to be interviewing the most dominant woman in the WWE,” Cathy continued as Rhea pulled her phone out of her pocket, glancing at the screen, “Now, how did you feel about the way Jey Uso spoke to you tonight? Implying you’re the leader of the Judgment Day? Flirting with you in front of your… Latino heat?”

You watched a complex wave of emotions pass over Rhea’s face as she scanned her phone before pushing it back in her pocket, donning a familiar smirk, and pulling the microphone that was pointed at her closer.

“Seeing as Dom and I have an open relationship, the flirting isn’t really a problem,” she told the camera, “In fact, I have a girlfriend as well.”

We never talked about this, you thought, heart racing as you hit pause to glance down at the number of views; already over a thousand, despite being posted only an hour ago. All those people, fans around the world - all of them knew Rhea Ripley had a girlfriend. They would be curious.

The thought of that many people crowding around made you feel sick to your stomach.

The phone buzzed in your hand, a message from Rhea telling you she would be out in a minute.

Looking over at the mass of fans by the doors, you made yourself come to terms with the fact that picking your girlfriend up from work wasn’t going to be as easy as you had hoped. You crossed your fingers for a moment as you did your best to keep your breathing steady, gathering the strength to pull up to the curb.

[end part sixty-three of ?]

Part 64: https://www.tumblr.com/specialinterestshows/743266675618627584/absolute-smokeshow-part-64-of-love-sex

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Tag List (thank you!)

@littlemiss-fanficlover , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @domripley , @wiccanpriestess , @falloutboy-lover , @aut0luminescence , @nobilitando , @riverina69

[babybearsnz]

Hello, again! Can I request a coffee shop au, where Sunghoon (Enhypen) works as a barista, but he has quiet sensitive nose, which makes other staff(members of a group) take care of him and coo:)

Having an itchy day

Sickie: Sunghoon

Caretakers: Jake and Jungwon

Relationships: Platonic

AU: Coffeeshop barista

Sunghoon’s pov:

I woke up to a faint buzzing sensation in my nose. Groaning, I reached over and stopped my alarm.

While getting ready for work, I had to keep pausing to rub at my itching nose. I recognized the feeling as my rhinitis acting up and I couldn’t stop sniffling. I blew my nose in hopes of relief, but my nose was too sensitive and irritated, causing the itch to momentarily get worse.

I stopped what I was doing, eyes closed, mouth agape, head tilted back. “haNGXTtchu! heNGXTtss!”

I felt my roommate place a comforting hand on my back. “Bless you, bless you.”

“Thanks, Jake.” I sniffled and cleared my throat.

Jake messed with my hair. “You alright?“ he asked.

I nodded. “Having an itchy day, I guess.” I rubbed at my nose and sighed.

“You’re okay, bud,” he cooed. “How about I give you a ride to work so you don’t have to walk. Don’t wanna be exposed to any extra pollen if you already feel like this.”

Jake pulled me into a quick hug before he let me finish preparing for the day.

********time skip********

As soon as I walked through the door of the cafe I was greeted by one of my coworkers.

“Morning, Sunghoon!” Jungwon yelled from behind the counter he was cleaning.

“Hey, Wonnie,” I replied and clocked in for my shift.

“Do you mind if I take care of a couple mobile orders?” He asked.

I nodded. “Sure thing,” I said and sniffled, “I can handle customers.”

Jungwon turned back around to face me and raised an eyebrow. I answered his question before he could ask it. “Just my rhinitis, I’ll be fine.”

He nodded and started brewing some espresso.

The bell on the front door rang and I got ready to put my costumer service voice to good use as a young lady approached my spot at the register.

“Hi, what can I get for you?”

She smiled. “Can I just have a large iced americano?”

I nodded and punched in the order. “Of course!”

She thanked me, paid, and sat down to wait.

While I was grinding the espresso beans, the strong scent made the tickle in my nose resurface. “haNGXT!” The sneeze was barely audible.

“Bless you” I heard from behind me.

I turned to see Heeseung and sniffled. “Thank you, hyung.”

When I was finished making the coffee I placed it at the end of the counter. “Iced americano,” I called. The customer thanked me once again and left.

“Sunghoon-ah,” Heeseung said. “Could you get the box of cups from the back for me?”

I nodded and went to fulfill his request.

The box in question was on a higher shelf and I had to go on my toes to reach it. When I got it down, I must have disturbed a layer of dust because I was hit with another itch in my nose at an alarming speed.

I quickly placed the box on the floor and cupped my hands over my face. “haNGXTtchiiew! huhNGXTaah! hahETCHhiii! ETCHhiii!” I groaned and let out a small cough, hearing frantic footsteps approach.

“Sunghoon?” Jungwon said, cringing at the sight of my situation. “Aish, what happened here?”

My breath was hitching like crazy. “Dust,” I managed before twisting to the side once more. “hATCHhiih!”

“Oh, Sunghoon, bless you.” He said and held both of my shoulders to stabilize me. “I’ll take this box to Heeseung-hyung. You should go home and rest.”

“I’m not sick,” I objected.

Jungwon picked up the box. “I know, but you’re gonna be tired and miserable if you have to work while handling allergies on top of your rhinitis.”

And with that, he left the room and I took out my phone to call Jake.

“What’s up, Sungie?” He answered.

I was starting to get congested from all of the sneezes. “Jake, can you come get me?”

He must have picked up on the sound of my voice because when he responded, he sounded worried. “Oh no, what’s wrong?” I heard him pick up his car keys.

“haESHhuhh! haETCHhiiew! So dusty,” I whined.

“Aw, ok, now you’re having an allergy attack too? I’m on my way.” I heard the door to his car close and hung up.

********time skip********

“hihNGXT! hehNGXTtchh!” I sneezed for the billionth time since I had gotten in the car.

Jake sighed. “Bless you.”

I hummed in acknowledgment.

When we finally got home, I headed straight for the couch.

“Here,” Jake said. “Take some meds. It might help a bit.” He handed me allergy tablets and a glass of water which I gratefully accepted.

“haKISHhoo!” Jake sat beside me and put an arm around me.

“Ah, bless you.” He stroked my arm up and down. I sniffled and rested my head on his shoulder, quickly having to turn away to sneeze again.

“You’re okay, just let it out.” Jake did his best to comfort me until the meds kicked in. I shut my eyes and leaned into him once again, dozing off before I knew it.

[iove33]

Killua x reader ( assassination) I’m not Proof reading so 🤞

Your pov : 🐱

“Fuck…” you say getting out of bed and walking into the bathroom of your apartment every night you put on serums and creams to make your nightly routine. “…And 100 “ you say sarcastically “ok I’m done , now I just need to brush and braid my hair and brush my teeth then I can go back into bed.

While brushing your teeth you feel uneasy as if a tsunami or a stalker was coming for you you hurry and spit out your tooth paste washing it down with water and then walk to your door it almost felt like a horror movie you check quickly and it’s unlocked you lock both locks and walk to bed laying on your king sized bed your cat hops on a starts nuzzling your arm that was left out of the little ball you rolled your self in almost like a Rollie Polly .

His pov : 🙈

My hit list was nearly complete , one left it wasn’t a big deal though some girl was pissed at her so she got a hit that couldn’t be reached back to her it was just a 21 year old girl ( killua is 23 in this ) living alone she shouldn’t be very hard to kill (or so he thought 🙈🙊) . She was on the top level so I get to the top of the roof apparently there was a sky light in her bathroom it faded her counter were I saw her brushing her teeth she couldn’t see me though after a while she got a paranoid look finished and locked her door , I could’ve slit her throat by now but I didn’t want to she was mesmerizing even in her nightly mode the way her hair looked in braids made her cheeks look brighter and her eyes look cooler. She was walking back to her bed . I didn’t want to though the girl already paid I’d get shit abt this if I didn’t kill her so I dropped through the sky light landing quickly I hid in the shower just in case because I still heard the sound of her phone .

Your pov :😜

As soon as it hit 12 you got urges to make shit like fairy mirrors and bracelets that’s how you knew it was time for bed. You set and alarm for 6 am and played some music to fall asleep.

You fell asleep .

Killua’s pov 💦

Finally the blare from her phone stopped and I heard music and soon enough I knew she was asleep . I could finally get out of the tub I open the shower curtain and step out , I walkout beside her bed “fuck it “ i stash my knife and come back out the sky light “ I’m gonna here sm abt this” I walk quickly to my own house (it’s low key a masion ) I go online and transfer the money back to the girl I’m not gonna kill her .

Your pov : 🤞

“ its 6am Alr I’m dead “ I get up and clip my hair back starting with my make up then started curling my hair and finally change into a cute outfit you work as a waitress the only uniform is a  apron and name tag other than that u can wear whatever “ ok and it’s 6:49 time to go “ I walk out the door locking the door and and grabbing my keys i walk in and go to the back to clock in and get my apron on after it’s exactly 7:13 I switch with my co worker chelsey she’s a bitch . 2 hours later I go on break even then I’m asked to do things I’m forced out a little early and I see the cutest guy immediately I rush over to serve him “hi there my name is y/n what would you like !” ( the ! Is meant 4 like customer service voice ) .

Killua’s pov : 🔥

He looks up from his phone to see you the girl he almost killed “uhh let me get a coffe , some chicken tenders , and your number ? “

He asks you , you smile at him and say right away . After a couple minutes you walk out handing him his food drink and a napkin with you number “enjoy your food call me later “she says “ will do “ I say .

I finished my food and asked for the bill she brought it out and ran my card then I left happy about my success .

Your pov : 😭

Aww he left already 😔. You finish your shift and go home finally there you flop on the bed. You had fell asleep but was awakened by the noise of ringing it was him he asked if you wanted to go to dinner * he had been debating whether or not to call her * “ yea ofc!” You answer and get ready you wore a red dress and got in you car and met him he then drove you to a fancy restaurant.

Killuas pov : ☀️

Here I am getting dinner with the girl I was supposed to kill but who could blame me she was magical . I ordered and steak w a red wine and she ordered ( get wtv u want ) and red wine as well . We finished the got dessert then I paid the bill . She held my hand as we left and gave me a quick kiss before getting in the car and I drove her to her car and she went home .

Im lazy so I might make a part two but wtv🙈

[secretpeachtea]

Cat-egory: Love (Kuroo x Reader)

Summary: In which you enjoy working at a cat café and Kuroo enjoys your company.

Genre: fluff, slice of life, timeskip (but no heavy spoilers!)

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: a quick haikyuu oneshot that had me rolling on floor :D i decided to just post it on both tumblr and ao3 since it’s not too long, so read on whatever platform you please :)))

read on ao3

You’re quite proud of the quaint little cat café you opened up a few months back near the outskirts of Tokyo. All of the customers love the arrangements of pastries and cookies complementing the many types of coffees and teas that you sell. To top it off, there are six different cats roaming around the shop to keep anyone and everyone company during their stay.

It’s near the end of the work day, only an hour left before closing, and you’ve just handed off the last muffin available to a kind elderly woman. You sweetly smile at her and let out a huff of breath once she leaves. Normally, you work with one other coworker, but they had called out for about a month or so last week due to a family emergency. You were pretty confident that you would be able to take care of everything on your own since your café was pretty small with a limited menu, but it’s still been a pretty rough couple days.

Just as you’re contemplating on sitting down for a quick break, the bell above the door rings signaling that a customer has entered. With your best customer service smile plastered on your face, you turn towards the approaching individual.

“Welcome to Cat-alyst!”

A tall, attractive man confidently walks up to the counter dressed in a sleek, grey suit that catches the attention of a few customers from their tables. Despite the professional outfit and posture, what probably stands out the most is his gravity-defying spiky, black hair that could pass as bed head. The dichotomy is actually quite charming in your opinion.

It takes everything in you to avoid ogling at the sharpness of the man’s jawline or the broad shoulders fitted perfectly into his jacket. “What would you like to order today?”

“I’ll take a black coffee and a danish pastry with custard filling.”

He pays with his card and you hand him his pastry. “Name for your order?”

“Oh, it’s K-”

Before the man could finish, he suddenly freezes in place and quickly looks down near his feet. It seems he was startled by one of the cats rubbing up against his leg.

You laugh and lean against the counter to look down on the black Bombay cat that has yet to move away from your customer. “Kuro! What are you doing all the way over here?”

The man’s head snaps up in your direction with wide eyes.

“Sorry about that. He’s not usually this affectionate with newcomers,” you comment as you turn your attention back to the customer. “What did you say your name was?”

The black haired male strangely hesitates for a moment before sporting a suspicious smirk. “Tetsurou.”

“Alrighty, Tetsurou. I’ll let you know when your drink is ready.”

You think you see a small tinge of pink on his cheeks, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared. Must’ve been your eyes playing tricks on you again. It’s been a long day.

He walks to the side and the cat follows him. The feline takes this chance to quickly climb the male’s long figure all the way onto his shoulders and simply drapes around his neck comfortably. You’re too busy with the order to notice him subtly sneezing into his arm a few seconds later.

You cap off the black coffee and smile as you hold out the drink. “Tetsurou!”

He pockets his phone and scratches your cat’s ears leisurely as he takes his coffee with his free hand.

“Why don’t you take Kuro with you while you sit? He’s always been my favorite too.” You reach up to gently pet the cat and he purrs at the attention. “Kuro’s such a good boy.”

This time, you definitely catch the man’s cheeks blossoming in a brilliant shade of red and he refuses to make eye contact with you.

“R-right. I’ll just, um, take him with me. Right now.”

You’re not sure what made him so flustered, so you just shrug your shoulders and get back to work as he walks away to one of the nearby tables without another word.

The next half hour goes by slowly as fewer and fewer customers stop by for the day. The man you know as Tetsurou sneaks a few glances in your direction when he thinks you’re not looking and you try not to act like you notice. It’s a bit difficult to do that though when his glances are accompanied by slightly watery eyes and not-so-subtle sniffles. You’ve seen more than a handful of people having the same reaction when they visit your café for more than a couple minutes.

Is he…allergic?

You’re wiping off one of the tables nearby when you see him stand up and throw away his empty cup. You cringe a bit when his voice comes out a bit nasally as he speaks to the black cat that’s still lounging next to him. “Sorry, little guy. I have to go now.”

Putting your cleaning rag to the side, you dig into your apron pocket and pull out a packet of tissues that you keep with you for emergencies. “Here, take one. Are you alright? You don’t seem to be having the best time of your life coming to a cat café with allergies.”

“No worries. I’m just fine and dandy,” he replies before sniffling once more for emphasis. He still takes a tissue gratefully and your hands briefly brush against each other. His hand is significantly larger than yours and there’s a warmth to them that almost makes you want to never let go. But alas.

Before you could pull back, he quickly grabs something from his back pocket and places it onto your palm. Based on the size and shape of the object, you don’t even have to look down to realize that he had just handed you his business card. His sharp eyes squint at something on your uniform before grinning. “I like your naming sense. See you around, (L/N).”

He turns to leave while you’re still dumbstruck by his sudden words and blinding smile. The chime of the bells above the door snap you out of your trance and the last thing you see is his back beyond the glass. You finally take the time to look down at the business card and read the text.

“Oh.”

His name is Kuroo.

It hasn’t even been 24 hours since you met human Kuroo, so you’re surprised to see him back at the café so soon. He walks in his all-suited glory once again an hour before closing, eyes searching for you expectedly.

You give him a smile that’s a bit more genuine than the one from yesterday as he walks towards the counter. “You’re back.”

“Indeed, I am. I’ll have a black coffee and a chocolate croissant today,” Kuroo responds.

“I got you.”

Similarly to yesterday, your cat Kuro runs up to the tall male and doesn’t hesitate to greet him with head rubs.

“It seems like Kuro…um…that might be a bit confusing.” You twirl a piece of your hair as you sweatdrop at the predicament.

The businessman chuckles. “Tetsurou is just fine.”

His words catch you a bit off guard, especially now that you know his full name, but you mentally tell yourself to calm down. You’re not some lovesick teenager that gets overly flustered by using someone’s first name. You’re both fully grown adults. “Then, (Y/N) is fine by me too.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

…

Shit.

“I’ll go get your coffee for you now.” Your words are mumbled as you quickly grab his desired pastry from the display and pass it to him, avoiding any eye contact. “Enjoy the croissant!”

Kuroo doesn’t utter another word and simply pets the Bombay cat and intentionally avoids making contact with his face. The feline tries to climb his human counterpart just like yesterday but is stopped by a persistent hand each time.

When you return to the counter with Kuroo’s coffee, you sigh at his failed attempt to stop a sneeze after you hand him the drink. “If you’re struggling so much, wouldn’t it make more sense to go to a different café? I’m sure black coffee isn’t that hard to come around.”

Kuroo brings a hand up to rub at his neck sheepishly. “I just…really like cats.”

His wistful tone makes you pause for a moment. There must be more to his stubbornness than you know, but hey, that’s none of your business. All you really need to do is make sure all of your customers are happy and satisfied. Although, a little teasing wouldn’t hurt.

“Are you sure you’re not allergic?”

“I’m paw-sitive.”

Cue your eye roll. Alright, that’s the end of that conversation.

You look at him for a moment and Kuroo meets your gaze curiously. “I can take Kuro off your hands for now while you get yourself a seat. Do you mind waiting for a bit? I’ll be right back.”

The man looks like he wants to ask you something but stops himself and simply nods his head. You quickly take your black cat to the back room and gently pick up one of the cats that have been resting on the cat tower. Kuroo raises an eyebrow as you walk towards him with a brown cat that he hasn’t met yet.

“This little friend is Chestnut. She’s a Burmese cat and they’re known for being hypoallergenic,” you explain as you place Chestnut into Kuroo’s arms.  “You can hang out together for as long as you’d like and you shouldn’t have any issues.”

Kuroo looks at you with stars in his eyes. “Thanks. I really appreciate it, (Y/N).”

“Anytime, Tetsurou.” You give him a warm smile. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Kuroo stays in the café until closing and he’s significantly less red-eyed and sniffly than yesterday when he finally stands to leave. He’s the last customer inside, so you’re a little less embarrassed to walk up to him and tell him what’s been sitting on your mind since yesterday. “I can text you a list of antihistamines that you can take the next time you come by. You’ll be able to pet Kuro and some of the other cats if you’d like?”

Kuroo smirks. “Is this your way of asking for my number, (Y/N)?”

“You already gave me your number, genius.” You roll your eyes and fish out his business card that you’ve conveniently kept in your apron since the day before.

The man’s ears flush red at your words and scratches his cheek awkwardly. “Right. Then, I guess I’ll be waiting for your text.”

Your heart flutters at the prospect of him looking forward to a message from you, even if your original intention was just to send him medication recommendations. Jeez, that sounds lame.

But, with the way he warmly winks at you before leaving gives you a little hope for something more.

For the rest of that week, Kuroo visits all of the days you’re open and you can tell he’s been taking the antihistamines you told him about because of how well he’s interacting with all the cats. He’s pretty adamant about stopping by your shop at the same time every day too and you assume he stops by after work.

It’s now the middle of the third week since his first visit and Kuroo hasn’t shown up for a few days. You’re a bit worried at his sudden absence, but something stops you from texting him to see how he is. You’re still not really sure where your relationship lies and you’ve never met up outside of the café.

You’re just about to start putting up the chairs when the bell above the door rings behind you. Without turning around, you muster up an irritated greeting, “Welcome to Cat-alyst! We literally close in like 5 minutes.”

You hear a familiar burst of laughter come from the customer that just entered and it causes you to snap your attention towards the door. Sure enough, Kuroo is standing by the door in his suit, but something seems a bit different. You’ve become so used to his neat outer appearance that it catches you off guard when you notice his disheveled form. His jacket unevenly sits over a coffee-stained button down and his slacks are slightly wrinkled. His bed head seems even more chaotic than usual, so he’s definitely had a long day, if not week.

“Yeah, you’re right. My bad. I can stop by next time,” Kuroo responds apologetically.

He’s just about to turn around when your voice cuts him off. “W-wait! Um…it’s okay. I can get you something to drink and let you hang out for a bit. You look like you might need it.”

“I wouldn’t want you to work overtime just for me. I’d be staying past closing.”

You wave off his concern. “I don’t mind. Let me just finish taking care of some chores and we can just chill? I’ll even grab myself a drink too.”

Kuroo gives you a hopeful smile. “Sure.”

As you flip the open sign around and make your drinks, Kuroo walks over to an empty table. You get slightly distracted when he takes off his suit jacket and places it on the back of the chair before sitting down and crossing his legs. He pulls up his sleeves and cuffs them near his elbows. His fit, yet slim body almost makes you swoon and the veins running along his forearms have never looked more appealing on anyone else.

When Kuroo suddenly looks up, you let out a small noise of embarrassment for getting caught staring and quickly get back to focusing on the drinks. If you had looked up one more time, you would’ve noticed his smirk accompanied by reddened cheeks.

With two warm mugs in your hands, you head over to Kuroo who’s now petting both Yuki, the white Ragdoll, and Shark, the grey Russian Blue. When you place his mug on the table, he thanks you.

You sit across from him. “Long day?”

“It was shit,” Kuroo replies. He takes the mug into his hands and stares down into the liquid that most definitely does not look like his usual coffee.

You look away nervously. “It’s a decaf green tea. You didn’t specify what you wanted and I thought it might be good to go without so much caffeine for the night.”

He takes a sip of the tea and hums with content. “It’s good. I probably should lay off the caffeine a bit, especially after work.”

The two of you take a moment to relax a bit in the comfortable silence as you enjoy your respective teas while the cats lay across the floor. Despite the tranquil atmosphere, you have a  strong desire to converse more with Kuroo and listen to his witty, yet kind words. “So tell me, what’s got you so exhausted this fine evening? Spill the tea if you will.”

Kuroo chuckles at your choice of words and you think you like that sound a lot. “Just an asshole coworker that’s lacking in docosahexaenoic acid.”

“Says the guy with a cat allergy that decided to frequent a cat café.”

“Shh. I thought we were past that.” Kuroo feigns offense before shifting his expression to one that was significantly softer. “Plus, I’m not just here for the cats.”

“Oh?” Your cheeks flush at the insinuation. “Care to explain?”

“Well, I have a day off tomorrow and I know you’re closed on Thursdays, so maybe I could tell you more if you let me take you out for lunch?” He runs a hand through his hair with confidence, but the slight twitch in his eyebrow gives away his nervousness.

You already know what your answer is going to be, but you purposefully place a hand under your chin as if you were still contemplating on a decision. You hold back a laugh when you see Kuroo shift in his seat with anticipation.

“I’d love to.” You place your hands back on your mug to distract your attention from the warmth on your cheeks to the warmth in your fingers instead.

Kuroo’s smile widens at your words. “Great! There’s actually a nice onigiri place pretty close by. An old friend of mine is the owner and I think you’ll like the food.”

“Can we meet here and walk there together? I’d like to check up on the cats before we head out,” you ask.

“Fine by me.”

You smile.

“Then, it’s a date.”

You head over to the café about half an hour before your lunch date and step into the back room where all the cats rest during off hours. Chestnut and Yuki, who are already awake and roaming, come to greet you at the door. Shark and Kuro are playing with some toys, while your orange Persian cat, Carrot (aka Bastard), is still snoozing away in his bed. The only young kitten of your café, a Siamese cat named Almond, is nowhere to be seen, and you become a bit worried since he’s usually the first to greet you.

A muffled sneeze from one of the cat towers catches your attention and you look into one of the enclosed compartments. Sure enough, you see Almond laying on his side and he looks up at you lethargically. You bring a hand inside and carefully take him out. Now that you can see him in better lighting, you notice his inflamed eyelids and the discharge around his eyes. The poor baby looked sick.

Without another moment to lose, you quickly grab a small cat carrier and a few blankets before placing Almond inside and locking it up. You rapidly check up on the other cats to make sure they look healthy too. Afterwards, you call a taxi to come pick you up as you walk outside the café and lock the doors.

After you get in the taxi and give the address for the nearest vet, you remember that you were supposed to meet up with Kuroo soon. You curse under your breath at the situation and pull up his number on your phone.

The call rings once before he picks up. “Hey, I’m about 10 minutes away from the café. What’s up?”

“Hey, Tetsurou. I’m really sorry, but we’re going to have to cancel lunch. Almond got sick and I’m heading over to the vet right now. I know I might be overreacting a little, but he’s still so young, so I don’t want to risk it.”

“Oh, shit. No problem at all, (Y/N). Let me know if there’s anything you need and keep me updated if you can. I want to know if the little guy is okay.”

“Will do. Thanks, Tetsurou.” You hang up the phone just as the taxi pulls up to your destination. You pay the driver and quickly go through the process of admitting your kitten. Thankfully, today’s been a slow day, so the front desk is able to get the vet to check up right away without an appointment.

Once the vet gets a look at Almond, you’re finally able to let out a sigh of relief when they tell you that the kitten is experiencing a pretty common upper respiratory infection that can be treated at home. The vet sends you off with a couple medications and instructions that don’t seem too difficult to follow. It hasn't even been an hour since you left the café, but you’re already set to leave with Almond.

You call another taxi and make your way back to the café with a peaceful, sleeping kitten next to you but not before shooting a quick text to Kuroo about any updates on the situation. He doesn’t respond right away, so you just pocket your phone and look out the window.

During the drive, you can’t help but feel upset at the missed opportunity to spend time with the man that’s caught your interest, but you don’t feel comfortable leaving Almond alone, especially since you have to keep him isolated from the rest of the cats.

As the car approaches the café, your eyebrows raise in surprise when you see a tall figure standing in front of the entrance. There’s no mistaking that the lone person is the one and only Kuroo Tetsurou waiting for you and wearing casual clothes for the first time since you’ve met him. You’re so used to his formal attire that his casual wear makes you fall for his looks all over again. He’s wearing a black t-shirt with dark jeans and black running shoes. His hair is not as styled but still looks put together, and he just looks…ready for a date.

When you exit the taxi, you notice that he’s holding a plastic bag that has an unfamiliar logo with the name Onigiri Miya written on the bottom. The two of you make eye contact and stand in front of each other for a few moments.

Kuroo’s the first one to break the silence, “I know you said you didn’t want to leave the cats unattended and you probably haven’t eaten yet, so I thought I’d bring the lunch to you. If you’re still down?”

Your heart swells at the gesture and you find yourself unconsciously nodding your head with a smile. “Let me just take care of some things first and then we can dig in.”

Kuroo follows you inside the building and sets the food down as you let the other cats out in order to clean up any potentially contaminated items.

“Need any help?” Kuroo asks as he watches you run around to finish your tasks as soon as possible.

“No, it’s okay! I’m pretty much finished. You can- ah!” A yelp escapes your lips when one of the cats suddenly runs in front of your legs and you have to maneuver your body to the opposite direction. You were able to avoid stepping on the cat, but it caused you to lose your footing. Fortunately, you’re not falling for long when a strong pair of hands grasp onto your shoulders as your face bumps into a hard surface. You’re disoriented for another few seconds, but the arms around you keep you secure.

Once you catch your bearings, you turn your head towards the feline culprit. “Bastard! I told you not to run around like that.”

You can practically see the orange cat smirking as he gets comfortable in his usual spot on the cat tower.

A voice above you startles you out of your one-sided conversation. “I thought his name was Carrot?”

“That’s what I officially changed his name to when he was first brought here since I couldn’t have kids running around calling for ‘Bastard’. I still call him Bastard, though, since he’s a cheeky one.” You grin as you look up at Kuroo, but your smile quickly disappears once you realize what position you were in.

Kuroo’s arms have yet to leave your side and your chests are close enough to feel your racing heartbeats syncing up. The two of you are lost in each other’s gazes and his eyes occasionally flicker towards your lips. You both unknowingly lean closer until your faces are only a few inches apart. Your eyes flutter closed when you suddenly feel something furry against your mouth that most definitely does not feel like another pair of lips.

When you snap your eyes open, the first thing you notice is Kuroo’s close proximity and wide eyes looking just as confused as you were. When both look down, you see a small black paw slotted between your lips. Apparently, while you both were distracted, your Bombay cat had climbed on top of the man’s shoulders again and decided it would be a great day to be a menace.

With a little bit more awareness, you pull away from Kuroo with bright cheeks and the man’s own cheeks mirror yours. You point at the food sheepishly. “Maybe we should eat?”

“Y-yeah.”

You both sit across from one another and take an onigiri from the pile. You must have been hungrier than you thought because the moment you take a bite, the only thing that floods your mind is the delectable taste of a perfectly seasoned rice ball. “This is amazing.”

“Right? I’m really glad they opened up a shop in Tokyo. I always stopped by Onigiri Miya whenever I visited Miyagi,” Kuroo responds just as content with the taste.

“I’m guessing you bought these from the place we were supposed to have lunch at?”

“Yeah. I didn’t want you to miss out, so here we are.”

“We can’t seem to meet up anywhere away from this café, huh,” you comment humorously.

“Not a problem. We’ve got more opportunities to go out together in the future.” Kuroo smirks. “As a matter of fact, I’m free Sunday night, and I know a good ramen place for dinner.”

“I’d like that.” You then point your finger at him teasingly. “You sure you’re not allergic to ramen though?”

Kuroo snorts and pretends to make the gesture to slap your hand away but instead lightly grabs your hand and links your fingers together smoothly. The next hour is spent getting to know each other more and sharing stories of your lives. Throughout the whole time, your hands never stray far from each other.

At some point, you get up to brew some green tea and you both migrate to a carpeted part of the floor to sit closer to the cats. You opt to sit next to Kuroo, shoulder to shoulder, and your hands find his again.

Good food, good cats, and good company. Despite the slight mishap in the morning, you’d say this was a pretty good date.

One year later

Kuroo doesn’t come to the café every day, but he stops by enough that all of your regulars know him by name. The rest of the customers mainly know him as ‘that one tall, handsome man with the ridiculous bed head who’s dating the owner’. He still comes in near the end of work hours, but now that your coworker is back, you have more flexibility in spending time with him.

Today, Kuroo had texted you earlier that his meeting was being extended, so he probably wouldn’t be able to make it to the café. It’s now past closing time and your coworker had already left since you were in charge of locking up for the night. You’re sitting in the back room feeling a bit sad that you couldn’t see Kuroo today, but those feelings were immediately alleviated when feline Kuro jumps onto your lap and rubs his head against your chest in comfort.

Your heart melts at the cuteness and you pet him lovingly. “You’re right, Kuro. Who needs men when I have you?”

The black cat meows as if responding in agreement.

You bring him closer to your chest and nuzzle his face while cooing. “I love you, Kuro.”

The sound of a plastic bag dropping on the ground startles you and the cat on your chest jumps away in fright. Your head quickly turns towards the door and you see your boyfriend standing stock still, a familiar bag from Onigiri Miya sitting at his feet. He’s completely red from the bottom of his neck to the tips of his ears and he’s sporting an endearing expression on his face.

For a moment, you’re confused as to why he was so flustered, but you realize that it’s the first time he’s ever heard you say that special three word phrase. He’s said it to you a few times now, but he has yet to hear it from you directly. Technically, you hadn’t even said it to him directly this time, but…right. His name is Kuroo too.

“I-I meant the cat! My cat that is named Kuro! Black cat Kuro! Not that I wouldn’t say it to you, um…” Your rambling just seems to make the situation more awkward.

Kuroo is the first to recover and he walks over to where you are while holding out a hand for you to take, abruptly silencing you and lifting you to your feet. “No worries. You can say whatever you’d like whenever you’re ready, (Y/N).”

His gaze draws you in and before you know it, your lips meet his in a deep kiss. His hands come up to gently cup your face, while your arms latch onto his sides in a tight grip. He tilts his head more to draw you in even closer and his movements cause you to take a few steps back until your back hits the wall.

The sweet moment almost turns more desperate when something lightly paws at your leg.

You break from the kiss and look down to see all six cats surrounding the two of you and watching your every movement with their curious eyes. Almond is standing the closest and is also the one who interrupted you. You let out a small giggle. It seems you could never catch a break from them.

When you look back up at Kuroo, you see him already staring at you with a soft smile gracing his lips. His eyes are filled with so much adoration and affection that you can’t stop your next words.

“I love you, Tetsurou.”

Kuroo looks surprised for a moment before his expression shifts back to a wide grin.

“I love you too, (Y/N).”

A/N: enjoy my product placement for Onigiri Miya. my tidbits series is still wedged deep into the dark crevices of my soul (and if you haven’t read that yet, !!!!!)

[genavere]

Let's talk about "The Overgrown Lawn." I am curious.

This is an odd one I had been working on. I stopped when I realized that people might not really read it since it was centered around original characters, and when I came to a crossroads in how to write it.

The story focuses on Dabs and Oats (Debra and Otis) Brandfield, an elderly couple who hired a young college man to do their yardwork. Unfortunately, by the time the story starts, the young man has not been showing up recently, and Otis has been getting ornery. They decided to give him a call to find out why.

Here is a snippet of it below:

Otis looked over his overgrown lawn, a frown firmly in place. Last week he had been willing to give leniency the week before when it rained every day and the college kid who had come around with business cards and fast smile called to say he would be over the next available day to do the yardwork. That day had come and gone. The grass was unruly, the flower beds needed to be weeded, and the service he paid for was not fulfilled as originally promised. A strongly worded review would be issued the next time his grandkids came over to show him how to do it. “Dabs,” he called for his wife and turned from the window. “That young punk who charmed you to do the lawn work, do you have his card still?” “One second, Oats,” her reply came from kitchen. There would be more cookies his doctor would scold him for eating, he knew. Could not be helped, his wife’s baking had to be worshipped for the goodness it was. Retirement had offered her enough time to become a master of all things sugar.

Apron clean except for a small speck of flour, which confirmed his suspicions, the love of his life and high school sweetheart came from the kitchen. Even with greying hair, wrinkles that highlighted her smiling face, and the extra weight she had put on from bearing their children and enduring the changes in her body, she looked as beautiful to him as the day he first saw her. The sour mood the lawn brought him lifted a small bit. “Here’s the card,” she said, a touch of motherly concern in her voice. “Has that young boy still not shown up?” “No,” he huffed and looked at the card. Adjusting his glasses, he managed to read the wording on it: ‘Natsu Dragneel – I’m all fired up to do your yardwork!’ Of course, a young punk would say something like that. Below that was a phone number. “Going to demand he show up today. The youth of today have no idea how to prioritize anything.” Debra chuckled at him. “I remember your father saying that about some of your actions.” “And I learned!” He felt her follow him to the kitchen. While he went to the phone hanging on the wall, she went to the counter and began getting everything together for tea. A grunt escaped him before he had the state of mind not to. Coffee would have been preferred but damn his aged body that could only handle one cup a day now, unless it was decaf. His sense of pride would never allow that in the house, so tea it was.

Receiver against his shoulder and ear, he punched in the number on the card and listened to the dial tone ring. His foot tapped, agitated at even having to do this and the longer the ringing went, the redder he felt his face grow. Finally, when he thought he would be sent to the answering machine, a tired voice answered. “Hello? This is Igneel Dragneel.” The agitated tapping halted. “Igneel Dragneel?” Where had he heard that name before? He knew he had, and the way he felt eyes on him, he had a feeling his wife knew who it was. “Yes, oh, right, this is Natsu’s phone.” A short gasp, what his long years could fathom being near a sob, came from the man on the other side. “I apologize, it has been a long couple of days. Are you one of his customers?” He looked back at his wife, his frown no longer pulled by anger. “Yes, Otis Brandfield is my name. He was supposed to come by the first day it didn’t rain.” “Oh…” Silence filled the line after that. They both shared another look, and both moved to sit at the table. Once again, he was glad his kids had insisted on getting them a cordless phone. At his wife’s insistence, he pulled the receiver from his ear and pressed the speaker button. It sat on the table between them. “Mr. Dragneel,” Debra softly called to the man on the other side of the phone, “my name is Debra, but you may call me Debbie if that is easier on you. We were just calling since your son is usually very dependable, and we were worried that he has not come by.” A look was all Otis needed to know not to say anything to contradict his wife’s statement. It was a battle he knew would be added to his tallied losses. “Sorry, Natsu, he—” A shuddered breath came over the line. There were few instances when he had seen Deb purse her lips together. It happened when she was mad, especially when he had done something that warranted her wrath, and when she became set with determination. The slight difference between the two depended on her eyes. In that moment, he saw the burning fire of determination in her still-clear grey eyes and fell in love all over again. “Mr. Dragneel, pardon my intrusion, but where are you right now?” “Huh? Oh, um, Magnolia General Hospital—” “We will see you soon, Mr. Dragneel.”

Let's just say...Natsu and Lucy ran into some trouble. Natsu was not being a bad apple, just...unable to do anything.

I really did like this story, and I will probably go back to it. I loved Oats and Dabs, thinking of putting them into other stories, too, cause who don't like the ol' grandparent couple?

Thank you for the ask!

[trashbag-baby666]

George, Web, and the Costume Fiasco of 2023-Webgott and Luztoye.

Summary: here’s my Halloween Finale!!! Enjoy this silly story of a huge costume mix up!

WC: 1,410

C/W: NSFW dancing??

BofB Masterlist!

2:45 PM, October 31st 2023.

Webgott:

"Joe! we have to go get our costumes like now!" Web was standing at Liebs bedside and Lieb pulled the blankets back over his eyes.

"Jus' go I'm so tired." Lieb murmured waving his hand blindly at his boyfriend.

"No! Because you need to try on your size!" Web huffed getting frustrated. Last night Daisy and Lieb had smoked a lot of weed and then walked to 7/11. Where a guy cat called Daisy and Lieb decided that it was a genius idea to fight a guy. While he was too high to remember his own name.

Long story short Lieb had a black eye and he was still tired.

"Gott verdamme dich, Joe." Web said with a sharp frustrated sigh and put his hands on his hips.

Web got his phone out of his pocket and dialed the Spirit Halloween number.

"Toccoa Spirit Halloween," a less then thrilled voice came through the phone.

"Hi I was wondering if you could check if you had a costume please." Web said with his fake customer service voice.

"Yeah?" The guy huffed.

"The shark costume not the inflatable one the onesie style one." Web was crossing his fingers their costumes would still be available.

"We have one left in a size medium."

Web did a small happy dance, "Awesome! I'll be there to get it soon!" He turned and looked at Lieb who was looking back at Web with his one eye still swelled, "Get up. Now we have to find you a costume since they only have one."

2:50 PM October 31st, 2023

Luztoye

"Fuck," Joe grunted him and George were going to be roller blade Barbie and Ken. But now there plan was put on hold.

"What? Oh." George came out of his bathroom and saw Joe sitting on his desk chair. Not only had he ripped his costume he could see where his boyfriend was trying to put on his prosthetic and he was very much in pain.

"Hey, hey it's okay." George came to his side, "If it hurts, it hurts. If it's swelled, it's swelled. Don't worry about it." George checked his watch.

These were some of Joes bad days when he was in and increasingly higher amount of pain.

"Look Spirit Halloween doesn't close till 7 and we have plenty of time to go get us a new costume before the party. Plus! They're probably have mega clearance since it's Halloween!"

Joe smiled a bit, he knew George loved a good sale. He was just like Carwood, loved some couponing and searching for the best deals.

3:25 PM October, 31st

Webgott

Web barely had time to put his Tesla in park as he got out of the car storming towards the door and Lieb in toe behind him.

"Jesus fuck, Web." Lieb grumbled pulling his baseball hat down lower as they walked into the store.

Web didn't even have time to flinch at the clown animatronic jumping at him. Or the scarecrow yelling at him. He charged up to the counter, "Hi where can I find that shake onesie I called about?" Web smiled at the guy who looked like he was one more customer like Web away from quitting.

"We just sold the last one. Sorry man." He shrugged.

Web blinked blankly processing the information.

"Thank you." He put on a fake smile before grabbing Liebs hand and taking him to the corner of the store.

"You! Why couldn't you just pick up our costumes when I told you too!" Web pointed accusingly at the taller boy.

"Hell, how is this my fault? You're the one who wanted to dress up as two fucking sharks you should've came and picked them up." Lieb scoffed.

"Joe! I already had placed the order and you literally just had to come in and get them! You know I've had back to back tests this whole week! I didn't have time!" Web was damn near shaking.

Web broke his eye contact with Lieb as everyone in the store was staring at them.

"Look, there's not much left what's find what we can and get going." Web sighed shaking his head and dragging Lieb over to the couple costumes.

6:30 PM October 31st, 2023

Luztoye

"Wait I thought you guys were dressing up as roller bladder Barbie and Ken?" Daisy looked at her brother confusingly.

"Yeah Joes stump swelled and he couldn't wear his leg, so we just decided to do a different costume." George shrugged, "So yeah I'm the shark that bit off Joes leg."

"Wasn't he in a car aci," Daisy started. She was already a bit drunk and her brain wasn't making sense.

"Yes Daisy...the shark story is just something we tell Babe." George hummed and took a drink of his beer, "Where's Lieb and Web?"

It was weird to see Daisy without Lieb or Billy. Especially Daisy and Lieb at a party. They would sit on the couch sharing a cart or in the bathroom smoking a joint.

"I don't know actually," Daisy shrugged then skipped away back over to Billy who was in the kitchen.

5:45 PM October 31st, 2023

Webgott

Web walked into the Speirs house and he felt absolutely ridiculous.

The only couple costume in their size was a playboy bunny costume and Hugh Hefenor.

But mostly so Lieb could hide his black eye with the captains hat.

"God damn," a very drunk Babe in a 'sexy Chica' costume walked over to Web snapping his fingers.

"Yeah I know I look fucking terrible." Web shook his head. He found himself in a black satin leotard with a bow tie and the signature Playboy Bunny ears.

"Nah uh! Honey!" Babe snapped doing his best Ru Paul voice.

"Well thank you," Web giggled feeling a bit better till he saw George walk into the living room with his shark costume on, "George Luz Speirs!" Web gasped looked at the shorter boy.

"Oh hey Web," George waved.

"You're wearing my costume!" Webs eyebrows were raised so high they might as well just disappear into his hairline. Web had taken two shots of vodka on the way in the car. He was nervous about his costume, he always had body issues. Especially growing up as a ballerina and his mom berating him.

"What do you mean? I just bought this?" George looked at the shark onesie.

"Just bought it!? Were you the person who bought my costume?" Web stumbled a bit.

"Don't worry about him, he got drunk on the way here. It's a long story." Lieb walked over dressed as Hugh Hefner and grabbed Web.

"So was Web going to be Hugh Hefner's first 'Playboy Shark?" George snickered at his own joke.

"No we were going to be two sharks. I don't know some couple costume. But we didn't get our costumes in time and this is all that they had left in our sizes that remotely matched." Lieb shrugged sitting Web on the couch.

"Weren't you supposed to be Barbie and Ken?" Lieb asked as George sat next to Joe that had his leg off and fake blood on his shorts.

"Stump swelled, couldn't wear my leg then accidentally ripped it trying to make it work." Joe explained and George sat next to him snuggling right into his arm.

"And I bit him!" George chomped his teeth towards Joe, "Now you're a manwich." George snickered.

"Interesting, who's Daisy and Billy supposed to be." Lieb sat forward a bit. Web had completely melted into the couch and fell asleep.

"Finnick and Annie from The Hunger Games franchise. I bet you're confused by Babe and." George started.

"George I assure you that I did play Five Nights at Freddie's growing up. What I'm confused by is why a slutty Chica and Freddie Fazbear is bumping and grinding against Monty Alligator." Lieb snickered a bit.

"Man I really don't know," George shook his head and looked at Joe and he just shrugged, “Oh my god Babe what are you doing?” George whipped his head as he saw the red head wrestling one of George and Daisy’s dogs into a cupcake costume.

“Please just take my picture she’s part of my costume.” He picked up the small chihuahua that was growling at him and Babe held the dog posing for his photo.

“God damn I need another.” George shook his head going back into the kitchen.

[kiiimmmpost]

I want to blog everyday of my euro trip so recap of the last two days: My flight was scheduled for 6/27/22 I headed to the airport 3 hours ahead of time so I could do a rapid COVID test and have time to check my bag in. I got to JFK and there were lines to check in like I’ve never seen before. I had delta priority (an expedited check in line) and I even stood in that lane for close to 1 hour. As my checked bag cut off time was coming up (1 hour before flight is scheduled to depart) I skipped that line and went into the Diamond (highest delta status lane) to also wait the lines were just not moving. 5 minutes before cutoff I just jumped in front of the line (I asked a couple people nicely) and I still didn’t make the bag drop time by a couple minutes. We were told to go downstairs to the rebook counters and that line had to be at least 4 hours long (a lot of flights were canceled the day before which led a lot of people to be rebooked for the following day hence the lines and delays). So I get in line and start calling delta customer service to see if I can get rebooked, I ask my friend to try to call too and she calls a scam number I was so frantic to rebook I didn’t check myself i was skeptic she got through so quickly but I unfortunately gave them a lot of information; email, phone number, address, credit card, picture of my ID. It’s a nightmare for me at this point, I still haven’t gotten rebooked, so I check the flight status and it was delayed. Delayed to the point we had a chance to check our bag in 1 hour before the delayed take off so we got back into that line and made it! Flight was originally meant to depart at 7:55 was delayed several times actual flight take off 10:30 PM. Great we were able to make it to that flight but we weren’t going to make it to our next flight which was scheduled for 1 PM to ibiza as we were now landing at 11:30 AM. There wouldn’t have been time for us to go through customs and check our bag. So we rescheduled our flight to 5:15 in the afternoon this gave us time time to drop our bags off at a hostel bag storage place for our large checked bag since we were only going to ibiza a couple days 30 euro storage for 2 days not bad. After dropping our bags we head to the beach to hangout for a couple hours before our flight. We scheduled a taxi service to pick us up at 2:50 got to the airport on time made our way to the gate, our gate was changed from B to A and now delayed until 6:30 PM. At this point we are so sleep deprived and defeated. After several delays, enduring sleep deprivation $500 flight fee changes/ baggage fees later we arrive to ibiza around 7:30. Bummer because the day is practically over, we had issues at check in because that’s just the general trend of how this trip is going 30 minutes to check in, 50 minutes total to get to room because room keys weren’t working. We shower and get vending machine snacks because it’s 9 PM we are ending this nightmare loop. On a better note it’s 5 AM I’ve slept and feel rested. Looking forward to my 1 day in Ibiza going to make it the best

Pictures from the only fun we had day 1 of our trip

[amarantine-amirite]

Blue

I was an artist. I worked in an art store, though. We were considered 'specialists', educating people on oils, acrylics, mediums, and clay. Sometimes, we sold finger paints and plasticine.

I was in a long-term relationship with the love of my life. I never took him for granted and I thought we were going to go all the way. I was wrong.

In January 2018, he suddenly dumped me via text message that said "I got the 7-year itch - it's over, Jane." By this point, I hope his seven-year itch has turned into some form of STD.

It wasn't my fault the relationship fell apart. He didn't understand that working retail in a wealthy area exposes you to a special kind of contempt. Rich people don't just consider you beneath them in a service role but as a human. Even dogs are a little grateful when you pick up their shit.

The store paid us less than the local supermarket. I worked a tough job serving awful people for terrible money.

I missed my friend's wedding and a family Christmas because my job wouldn't give me the time off. I couldn't afford nights out or vacations with my boyfriend. Everything I had went on rent, food and my three-hour both-ways commute on perpetually filthy, overcrowded and late trains.

The rent and food were expenses I could tolerate, but the commute was eating me alive. My boyfriend was the one good thing in my life, but I wasn't the only good thing in his. He walked away, leaving me with filth and crowds.

I stopped showing up to work. If I did, it would be hours late. This went on for a couple of months. One day I told myself you have to go to work, but if it makes you feel better, don't take any shit.

the checkout line snaked around the back of the store. a customer wearing a Von Dutch hoodie came in looking for a fight. He took one look at the line, decided it was an affront to justice, and threw a tantrum that involved pushing over a display.

"Sir, you can't do that," I shouted from my spot at the cash.

The guy in the Von Dutch hoodie yelled back, "You can't tell me what to do, you're a woman."

I climbed over the counter and walked over to him. "And you're sexist," I said. I didn't put my hands on my hips and told him, "I'm serious, you need to get the fuck out of my store."

"No, I don't."

I got in his face. "Let me be clear, you cannot come into this store looking for trouble. I'm a human being and I don't deserve it."

He seemed surprised that he was going to get kicked out so he decided the rational thing to do was to fight me. He didn't listen to any of my repeated orders to back off. He pushed me to the ground.

I tried to get up. He pulled a rubber knife on me. I yanked the rubber knife out of his hand and chucked it into the crowd. It hit my manager on the head. He immediately shrank down after that.

I'd never gotten so mad at a stranger before, let alone a customer.

The supervisor pulled me away and dragged me into the manager's office. a phone call later, the Head Office fired me.

The job cost me my love, and the breakup cost me my job. This strained my friendship with my landlord, who evicted me later that week. Not because he isn't receiving rent, I'm making payments, but because he's tired of me being in the house all the time.

I applied for public housing but was refused. Nobody will rent to the unemployed, and nobody will hire the homeless.

I have since been couch surfing with some friends. I keep wondering where that rude customer is now, and if he noticed I'm gone. Sometimes I wonder if he regrets his actions. I hope he learned not to be rude to strangers because you have no idea what they're going through, and it may ricochet throughout their whole life.

Things changed in April. After countless applications and a stream of rejections, I finally got a job offer for a docent for an art gallery. They said they wanted to discuss my skills over coffee.

On the day of the interview, I went to the address provided in the email. It didn't lead to an art gallery. It led to somebody's apartment.

This woman with dreadlocks and three piercings on one eyebrow answered the door. The apartment smelled like a mix of dog and some herbs. She soon told me she had three dogs and liked yoga, meditation, and massage, which explained it all.

That should have been my first red flag. But no, it got worse.

We drank coffee while talking, and it tasted bad. It tasted like I was drinking manure-flavoured gasoline.

Then the woman massaged my hands. It caught me by surprise. "Don't worry," she said, "this will help you relax."

I stared out into the front courtyard the entire time. The feeling that everything was changing for the worse echoed in my mind.

I feel like this when I'm tired and hormonal, but now the feeling is so much stronger than that. this feels like this one's for real. Something terrible is about to happen. Something big, something that could kill me.

And I started to feel dizzy. My vision got blurry. I had trouble standing up.

The woman notices the discomfort on my face. "You don't seem well," she said with a calm demeanour, "Is everything okay?"

"I think I just need to wash my hands," I said as I struggled to find my footing, "Maybe I had an allergic reaction to the massage oil?"

She reassured me with a smile but should have been comforting but just felt suspicious. "No need to worry, sometimes people feel a bit dizzy after a hand massage," she said gesturing to her bedroom, "If you need to rest, my bed is right there. Take your time."

"OK", I nodded as I continued to the bathroom. I couldn't even see my own reflection, let alone text or call someone on my phone. I thought about the horrible coffee and the massage. There was no way that this was an interview for a docent job at an art museum.

I passed out on the bathroom floor. The last thing I heard was the woman saying, "I think we got her."

I woke up in a backyard somewhere. The lawn chairs just look sad rather than inviting. The yard backed into a cemetery

I woke up face-first on a playground slide. The bottom of the slide had a torn plastic bag, a plate of nine chunks of rotten meat with pennies in it, and a blood-red candle with a blue flame.

The wind picked up. The candle went out. I slid down the slide and I knocked the bag and the rotten meat onto the ground with my forehead.

As I looked up, I heard footsteps moving towards me. Then somebody shouted, "Die!"

I recognized the voice: it was the guy who barged into the art store itching to pick a fight with the cashier. I don't think he learned his lesson.

I stood up and ran away from the slide. I started running towards the road. I thought I got away but I heard, "I'm waiting"

I knew what that meant. They were waiting for me to get too tired to keep running, to stop and pee. I had to keep moving at any cost.

I booked it towards the woods. I could still hear them. "Come back here," they shouted.

I didn't. I kept moving until I tripped on a root and tumbled down a hill. everything went black after that.

I woke up at home. I don't know how I got here, but I'm lucky I'm back. I never expected my blow-up to bite me in the ass the way it did.

@rosewritingprompts

[mainskiosk]

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[akocomyk]

June 5, 2022

I couldn't sleep last night. Lots of thoughts were flooding my head, and not all of them were good.

I usually cook our food during weekends, and because of my overthinking, I couldn't think clearly what to cook for Sunday.

So... To escape that responsibility, I decided to date myself. I kinda missed that. That era when I go out to eat dinner on my own every Friday after work, and go window shopping in the mall—or really do some spontaneous buying of random stuff.

And I didn't do it just every Friday back then. Sometimes I did it on weekends too... Coupled with me watching a movie I know none of my friends would dare to watch.

For today, I had a simple plan.

I went to SM Bacoor. I was to go first at Starbucks for breakfast and read Fire and Blood by George R. R. Martin, but when I was outside the café, I couldn't load up my card. I then went to Watsons across Starbucks to buy dental flosses and managed to load my card while I waited on queue.

At Starbucks, I ordered a grande salted caramel cold brew and sausage roll. I sat on a high table with stools at the far corner and finished my breakfast while reading my book. I was there until 12 noon.

I then went shopping at the department store. I bought a new french press, the zip ties my dad asked me to buy, and some other stuff.

Afterwards, I went down to the lower ground level, at the supermarket.

I left the shopping bag from the department store at the package counter, and placed the tag inside my left pocket along with my phone.

I tried to call my sister a couple of times while walking around the supermarket, asking if there's anything she'd like for me to buy. The signal wasn't okay below ground, so I sounded choppy from her end, but we finally got to hear each other clearly when she called me through my number.

So... I went on to buy some almond milk, cooking oil, chorizo, laundry soap, and fabric softener.

I then remembered the tag that I placed on my pocket. And voila! It was gone. I searched all the four pockets of my shorts, took out my wallet, phones and all, to no avail. I even tried to look inside my bag, even though I knew that I never placed it there. I tried to keep my cool, but I was panicking on the inside.

All I could think of was, "Wasn't there a fine for lost tags?" I was anticipating around 300 to 500 pesos. I was already thinking of any excuse to not pay for it, but I don't usually do that.

Hence, I didn't try to buy more than what was already in my grocery basket. I also tried to console myself by thinking that I wouldn't even be able to carry a lot of groceries since I'm on my own.

Anyway. I rushed to the cashier and went back to the package counter. I saw the sign that lost tags are only fined at 50 pesos. Half of my panic drifted away, and so I told the guys there that I lost my tag. They directed me to Customer Service. I reported my issue to the personnel, who then accompanied me back to the package counter for us to identify my package. I described to her what my package was.

When we arrived at the counter, I saw my shopping bag and pointed at it. The personnel took it and handed it over to me. I asked if everything's good, and she said yes. Apparently, someone found my lost tag and surrendered it to them. I didn't have to pay a fine.

That's when I realized that I haven't eaten lunch yet, and it's past 1:00 PM. I looked for a place where there's enough choices for tables where I can sit on my own comfortably. Banapple was it.

I ordered their crunchy chicken caesar fillet sandwich.

Although I was already done with everything that I've planned, I didn't want to go home yet because I knew it would still be pretty hot outside.

I thought about watching a movie, Top Gun: Maverick. But I remembered that people have to show their vaccination cards before entering the cinemas. I left my vaccination card at my backpack the last time I worked at the office.

So... I ditched the idea. I didn't want to go back to Starbucks, knowing that it's gonna be filled with people, but then I remembered there was a Macau Imperial Tea branch somewhere in the upper levels. When that branch was newly opened, people flocked it. But that was years ago, so I hoped that there would be fewer people.

And apparently, there were, and I saw a couple of empty tables.

I ordered a cream cheese osmanthus oolong tea. And the cup was really cute.

I'm a low key We Bare Bears fan, and so is my sister. I sent a picture of it to her, and she asked me to buy one for her.

I stayed at Macau for a while and continued reading my book while I finished my tea. At past 3:00 PM, I got up from my chair and ordered a no-ice cream cheese with pearl tea for to go.

That's when I went home.

What a day. And the day wasn't even finished yet.

[cuttoothed]

A little fic for @jonsimsandcats and also inspired by some adorable art on discord! Featuring notes on kitten rearing, and of course some Jmart because it’s me.

Jon works at the Institute here, but a non-spooky version of it!

*

Martin is doing a final check on the fish tanks when he hears the bell above the front door jingle. He sighs; he knew he should have locked up first. Just his luck.

“This is your fault,” he tells the angelfish balefully. They don’t seem contrite, too busy nosing in the fine gravel for any food they’ve missed. Martin walks out to the front of the shop, preparing his best customer service smile to tell whoever’s come in at—he glances at his watch—three minutes past eight that they’re closed, and no, they can’t just wander around for a few minutes to look at the animals. Honestly, some people seem to think there’s no difference between a pet shop and an art gallery.

There’s a man standing at the front counter, looking around anxiously, a bundled up jumper clutched against his chest.

“Sorry, we’re—” Martin begins, and that’s as far as he gets before the man unleashes a frantic tirade.

“Please!” the man says, “I need your help, I-I’m not sure they’re breathing and they were out there for hours on their own, I know you’re not supposed to move them in case their mother comes back but I couldn’t just—just leave knowing they were still there, and all the vet offices nearby are closed, this was the only place I could think of!”

The man is wild eyed, almost panicked, and Martin lifts both hands in an appeasing gesture.

“Woah,” he says, “Uh, maybe start from the beginning again? Slowly?”

“Right, ah, sorry. Sorry. I spotted them this morning, under a bush just outside my work.” The man sets the bundle of jumper down on the counter, and unfolds it to reveal two tiny scraps of fur: one gray, one black. Kittens, Martin realizes, so small they can only be a week or so old; certainly not old enough to be without their mother.

“I left them alone, because I’ve heard that the mother usually comes back after a little while. A-and I meant to go and check on them again during the day, make sure.” The man sounds anguished now, his face miserable. “But I—I got caught up in work, forgot about it. It was only when I was leaving that I remembered. And they were still there, on their own. Barely moving. Please—is there anything we can do?”

Martin looks down at the tiny creatures in their nest of wool; he can just about see the shallow in-out of their breathing. All day outside alone, at their age, the odds aren’t great. But he’s met enough kittens to know that they’re shockingly resilient little sods, and he’s never given up on a so-called hopeless case before. He’s not about to start now.

“You did the right thing moving them,” he assures the man, moving to flip the sign on the door to CLOSED. “We need to get them warmed up and get some food into them. Body heat is the best thing for them right now—can you start warming them with your hands?”

“Oh—ah, yes,” says the man, turning to his bundle of jumper with a worried frown. Martin leaves him there while he rushes around the shop, grabbing kitten milk replacer and nursing bottles, and then into the back to heat two mugs of water in the microwave while he makes up the bottles. He pops them into the mugs to warm, and brings the whole lot out to the front. The man now has a kitten in each hand, and is holding them pressed carefully to his chest for additional warmth; his expression is still worried, but also desperately tender, and Martin feels a pang of something behind his ribs at the sight.

“One of them is moving,” the man says eagerly as Martin sets the bottles down. Martin can see the gray kitten wriggling weakly in the man’s grip, responding to the heat. Its sibling is still motionless, and Martin’s heart sinks a little.

“That’s great,” he says. “Hold onto her for another minute, and let me see if I can get her sister moving too.”

He holds out a hand, and the man almost reluctantly passes him the black kitten. Martin doesn’t try to notice that the man has lovely hands, with long, slim fingers, narrow wrist jutting out of his shirt sleeve, but, well, he notices a bit. He turns his attention to the kitten; he can’t make out the motion of its breathing anymore. He takes it in both hands and starts to massage it gently. It lies limp in his palms, head lolling, and Martin starts to feel despair crawling cold up his spine.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “You can do it.” The man is watching him anxiously, the gray kitten cradled against his chest, and Martin knows he can’t give up. He keeps rubbing the kitten’s small body, trying to will warmth and life back into the tiny, fragile form. At last, after what seems like an eternity, the kitten squirms in his hands and a faint, plaintive mew escapes it. An answering mew comes from the gray kitten, and Martin laughs, relief washing over him.

“Right, let’s see if we can get them to eat.”

After checking that they’re not too chilled to feed, Martin tests each of the kittens with a drop of formula on their tongue; thankfully they both seem able to swallow without difficulty. He shows the man how to feed the gray kitten, holding its body in a neutral position with the bottle tilted for a gentle flow. It doesn’t take long for the kittens to figure out the process, and Martin can feel the tug on the bottle as his kitten begins to suckle.

“Oh,” he hears softly from beside him, and turns to see the man gazing in delight at the gray kitten, whose tiny, unfurled ears are twitching as it sucks.

“She’s doing great,” Martin comments. “Good job.” The man gives him a tentative, pleased smile, and Martin still isn’t trying to notice but it’s a very nice smile. “I’m Martin, by the way.”

“Jonathan Sims—Jon,” says the man, and then gives a small, tense laugh. “God, I haven’t even apologized for storming in here while you were clearly trying to close up for the night.”

“That’s all right, I didn’t have any exciting plans tonight anyway. I’d much rather be spending time with these little beauties.”

Jon smiles again, more sure this time, and all right, maybe Martin deliberately notices the dimple in his right cheek. Just a bit.

Once the kittens are fed, Martin shows Jon how to stimulate them; both of them only pee a little—poor things are dehydrated—but it’s a good sign. They clean them up and tuck them back into the nest of Jon’s jumper, where they curl up into a small puddle of black and gray. Jon gives a sigh that’s somewhere between relieved and exhausted.

“Thank you,” he says. “I, ah, I think I forgot to say that as well. You know a lot about this.”

“I volunteer at a shelter, there are a lot of kittens. If you like, I can take them for tonight and bring them in tomorrow?”

“Ah,” says Jon. “Do you think that’s—I mean...I-I’m not sure I’d feel right, handing them off to someone else. Not that I think you’re not capable!” he rushes to add, and Martin finds himself smiling.

“No, I get it. You found them, you want to take care of them. I’ll warn you, though, it’s a big commitment. For the first couple of weeks you have to feed them every two hours, even during the night, and then it’s every three or four hours until they start weaning. It’s like having a newborn baby.”

“I don’t get much sleep generally,” says Jon. “At least this way I’ll have something to do while I’m up all night. And my work is—well, I’ll explain the situation.”

He looks set on it, brow furrowed with determination. Martin considers arguing more: that a shelter will be better equipped to care for the kittens, that there’s no guarantee they’ll survive in any case, that Jon doesn’t know what he’s signing up for. But the shelters are always crowded, and kittens this young have simple needs, and really, a dedicated foster parent—armed with the right knowledge—is probably the best thing for them.

“Right,” he says, “Let’s make sure these two are well wrapped up before you take them home.”

He scrounges a cardboard box from the back and they settle the kittens into it, still wrapped in Jon’s jumper along with a soft fleece blanket printed with cartoon fish. Martin gathers a couple of cartons of liquid formula and extra bottles to get them started, and shows Jon how to pierce the nipple so the flow isn’t too strong.

“It should be warmed to body temperature,” he explains, “But not directly in the microwave—put the bottles in heated water, like I did earlier. Do you have a hot water bottle?”

“Yes, I do,” says Jon, frowning intently as he listens. Martin nods.

“It’s better than a heating pad at this age, they’re less likely to get overheated. Don’t make it too hot—body temperature, again—and wrap it in a blanket so they’re not touching it directly.”

“Got it,” says Jon firmly, and Martin believes him. He bags up the formula and bottles and an extra pet blanket, and presses them into the hands of a startled Jon; the till is shut off for the night, but Martin can explain and pay for the items tomorrow.

“What’s your phone number?” he asks, and Jon looks even more startled.

“S-sorry?”

“Or your email. I’m going to send you some links—videos, a couple of good blogs that should be helpful.”

“Oh, ah, right. Of course.” Jon recites his number and Martin saves it under “Jon (Kittens).” He peeks into the box one last time before Jon scoops it up, and sees the kittens snuggled in the folds of the jumper, paws waving in little kitten dreams.

“Thank you again, Martin,” says Jon. “I honestly don’t know what I would have done without you tonight.” His tone is shy but genuine, and it sends warmth through Martin’s chest and up into his cheeks.

“Any time,” Martin says. “And feel free to text me if you need anything—if you have a question or...anything. Or call me if you like.” He’s aware he’s rambling a bit, but it’s not every day an attractive man says that he doesn’t know what he would have done without you, so he can hardly be blamed.

“I will,” says Jon solemnly.

*

He doesn’t text Martin any questions that night, but when Martin sends him the links to a youtube channel and three blog posts on kitten care, he replies:

Thank you :)

Martin spends most of the rest of the night wondering what that smiley face means.

*

He doesn’t necessarily expect to see Jon again, and certainly doesn’t expect to see him the very next day. But just before one o’clock in the afternoon the bell above the door jingles and there’s Jon, looking tired and more than a bit sheepish.

“I got all the way into work this morning before I realized I’d never paid for any of the things you gave me,” he says, reaching for his wallet.

“Those were gifts,” Martin tells him firmly. “Sort of a “welcome to foster parenthood” care basket?”

“No, I couldn’t let you—” Jon starts to protest, but Martin shakes his head emphatically.

“It’s no big deal, honestly. I get an employee discount anyway.”

“I...well, then I suppose I need to thank you yet again,” says Jon.

“It’s becoming a bit of a habit,” Martin jokes, grinning, and Jon smiles in return. He hesitates a moment before continuing:

“Maybe I could buy you lunch instead, then? To pay you back.”

“There’s no need, honestly,” says Martin, even as his brain berates him: What are you doing, idiot, he’s asking you to have lunch with him? Say yes!

“Please, I’d like to,” Jon says, and then gives a thoughtful frown. “Only if you want to, of course, don’t feel obligated—”

“I’m on lunch in five minutes,” Martin blurts out before he can overthink it.

“Great!” says Jon, sounding pleased. “If you have time, we could go by my office as well and visit the kittens. I just fed them before I came to see you.”

Before I came to see you, not before I came to pay you back, and Martin feels that warmth crawling up towards his cheeks again. Even if Jon’s intentions are purely friendly rather than...anything else, well, Martin could always use more friends.

“How were they last night?” he asks, and the smile that spreads across Jon’s face this time is pure delight.

“Oh I barely got an hour’s sleep,” he says, waving a hand. “And today they’re sitting under my desk reminding me every couple of hours that they need attention and that they are far more important than whatever I’m working on. They’re perfect.”

“Sounds like cat parenthood suits you,” Martin teases gently, and Jon laughs.

“I think it rather does.”

*

Lunch is...nice, and only slightly awkward in the “getting to know a new person” sort of way. Jon is serious, but also funny in an understated, acerbic way, and there’s a gentleness to him that wouldn’t be immediately apparent, if Martin hadn’t seen him cradling two tiny, fragile lives to his chest last night. He’s the kind of person Martin would like to know better, he thinks.

Afterwards they go to Jon’s workplace, which is extremely academic with a brass nameplate by the door and everything, and down to the basement office where Jon works; Martin doesn’t really know what archiving entails, but it looks like mostly a bloody great pile of paperwork. Jon’s two colleagues give Martin friendly and extremely curious glances as they pass; Jon pointedly ignores them in favor of directing Martin to his desk and the cardboard box sitting beneath it.

When Martin glances inside, the two kittens are curled up in the folds of the fish-print blanket, lying against the shape of what he assumes is the hot water bottle. Their bellies already look rounder than they were last night, thanks to regular feeding, and their limbs twitch as they sleep.

“I’ll take them to the vet for a check up after work,” Jon murmurs quietly, gazing down at them with a soft expression. Martin recognizes that look of adoration, and he knows this pair won’t be going to a shelter or anywhere else; they’ve found their home with Jon.

“They’re lucky you found them,” he says, and Jon smiles self-consciously.

“I think I’m the one who was lucky,” he says.

They spend a bit more time with the kittens, and then Martin realizes that it’s about time he got back to work if he doesn’t want to get in trouble. He excuses himself, waving goodbye to Jon’s still curious colleagues, and Jon walks him out to the grand front entrance of the building.

“Thanks again for lunch,” he says. “And—you have my number, right? The offer is open, if you need anything, just text me.”

“I will,” says Jon. “And, ah, let me know if you’d like to come and see the kittens again. Any day. Well, most days,” he corrects himself. “We could, ah, maybe have lunch again?”

“That sounds...really nice,” says Martin. Jon smiles, pleased, and Martin isn’t trying to notice the faint flush that spreads across his face, but it’s very cute anyway.

*

As he walks back to work, Martin’s phone vibrates with a text. It’s a picture of the kittens, curled up on top of each other, with the message:

Come back and see us soon!

Martin grins; the kittens, he thinks, weren’t the only ones lucky to be found last night.

[drabbles-mc]

Courtesy Call

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Request by Anon: A "meet cute" with either EZ or angel where u are walking out of the gas station where the swole boys confrontation is taking place

Warnings: language, smoking, guns, Angel being a smartass

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I wrote for this lovely, lanky man. This request has been sitting in my inbox for a while but I was really feeling it tonight. I tweaked it a little bit but I think it still flows really well. I hope you enjoy!! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X) ​

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There were very few good or fun things about your job at the gas station. It was nice that your boss wasn’t around much—the last thing you wanted to deal with on top of shitty customers was a supervisor breathing down your neck. And sometimes, in the midst of all the lulls and in between the rude people who rolled in and out throughout the day, you got to see some interesting things. For better or worse, travelers were never boring.

You heard the rumble of motorcycles pulling into the lot. The noise was deeper, had a little more muscle to it than the bikes that commonly rolled through your spot. You peeked out the window to look at the gas pumps, and you couldn’t help but to raise your eyebrows in surprise when you saw the two men that were getting off their bikes and unclipping their helmets. If only the bikers in your area looked like that.

One of them started walking towards the door and you immediately set your phone down on the counter, trying to look at the man who had entered without making it too obvious. He perused the aisles for a couple minutes, although he didn’t really seem like he was going to pick anything out to purchase.

He approached the counter and you flashed him a smile, your customer service voice immediately kicking in, “What can I get for you?”

“Just a couple packs of smokes, please,” he pointed to the ones he wanted.

You nodded, “You got it,” you grabbed two packs and set them on the counter, but as he reached for them you didn’t remove your hand. He looked at you, confusion apparent on his face. You chuckled, “ID?”

He laughed, shaking his head, “Really?”

You nodded, “Really.”

“Pfft,” he scoffed but there was still a smile on his face as he took his ID out of his wallet and handed it over to you.

You looked over it, nodded, and smiled as you handed it back, “Thank you, Angel.”

His smile shifted into a smirk of sorts, “You’re welcome, querida.” He didn’t take his eyes off of you as you finished ringing him out. He flashed you a wink as he swiped the packs of cigarettes off the counter, “Have a nice day.”

You leaned forward onto the counter, watching him as he walked out, “You too.”

Once he was back outside you sat back down onto your chair, and even though you knew that you shouldn’t, that it was none of your business, you looked out the window to watch him talk with the other man that he had pulled in with. You watched as Angel placed a cigarette between his lips and you knew that you shouldn’t have found it as attractive as you did, but oh well.

Your quickly spiraling train of thought was derailed as you heard another set of motorcycles pull into the lot. You couldn’t stop yourself from sighing and rolling your eyes. The Swole Boys might’ve been local but it didn’t make you like or respect them. And it certainly never made them treat you any better, either.

You looked out the window and watched as they walked up to Angel and the other man, and you instantly became interested in how it was going to play out. You couldn’t hear all of what was being said at first, but you were certain that the men who had just rolled in weren’t being courteous, or smart.

The man that Angel had shown up with got off of his bike, and you found yourself walking out from behind the counter and going towards the door. You weren’t planning on going out there and putting yourself in the middle of it, but you wanted a better idea of what was going on. It was hard to hear from behind the counter.

You heard Angel’s voice, “Next time we’ll call the Slow Boys.”

Having the protection of the glass door was a godsend, because you weren’t able to stop the laugh that escaped you. No one ever talked to them that way, and you were thrilled that someone was stepping up to the plate and finally saying something.

The man next to Angel spoke up with a smirk tugging at his lips, “Sorry, he’s just picking up on the lack of cognitive energy comin’ our way.”

You found yourself covering your mouth with your hands as you laughed. Angel and his counterpart were clearly very pleased with themselves, both of them standing with a lot of confidence despite the mounting annoyance of the other bikers in front of them.

The Swole Boys started stepping closer and you saw Angel lean and grab something from his bag. Your eyes grew wide when you saw that he had a gun in his hand. It wasn’t raised, but you still didn’t know where this was going, if you were supposed to step in and say something. You didn’t get paid nearly enough to get shot on the job trying to protect a few douchebag gym-bros, but you didn’t want to say that you didn’t do anything. You saw that the gun was still at his side, so you stayed put and listened to the commentary he was providing. You had to admit it was amusing.

“Shut the fuck up!” Angel snapped and raised the gun, going back and forth pointing it at each of them.

Now the tension was a little too much for you to be completely comfortable with. You ahd no idea what you were going to do, but you couldn’t stand inside anymore. Silently, you slipped out the front door and stood on the sidewalk right in front of it, letting the situation play out a little more. Both Angel and the man with him spotted you, their eyes flicking over to you for a moment even though they didn’t say anything to you.

“You guys are an embarrassment,” Angel shook his head, gun still aimed at the men in front of him, “Now go climb on your homocycles and get the fuck out of here.”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to let your shock be too present. You knew that it was still written all over your face, though. And the surprise only intensified when they actually backed off and went back to their bikes. They obviously wouldn’t have been able to go toe-to-toe with Angel and his friend, but on a different day they probably would have been stupid enough to try.

It wasn’t until the guys pulled away that Angel tucked his gun back into his bag and turned to look at you. the tough demeanor he’d just had completely fell away as he stepped a little closer to you.

“Sorry ‘bout all that,” he shook his head slightly.

You chuckled, “It’s fine. Just came out to make sure I wasn’t going to have to add hose blood out of parking lot to my to-do list.”

He laughed, “I would’ve at least stuck around to help with that.”

“No he wouldn’t have,” his friend said with a smile that would make anyone’s knees buckle.

“Man, shut up,” Angel shook his head with a laugh, “Don’t mind my brother—he was dropped on his head a couple times as a child.”

“By you?” you asked with a smile.

He held a finger up to his lips, “We don’t talk about it.”

You looked back and forth between them, crossing your arms over your chest, “You guys just roll into town to stir up trouble, or what?”

Angel shook his head, “Just passing through.”

“Sorry for the scene,” his brother said.

You shrugged, “All good. Not like we’ve got any customers to scare away.”

Angel laughed, “Right, right.”

“You guys should ride through more often,” you nodded towards the road, “Those guys don’t get told to shut the fuck up often enough.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Angel smiled as he hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans, “try to swing by and keep ‘em in line.”

You didn’t comment on it, but you could see Angel’s brother smiling and shaking his head as he watched the two of you interact. Clearly Angel was no stranger to chatting up girls that they came across in their travels. Still, this was the most interesting thing that’d happened to you since you started working at the shitty little gas station so long ago. Plus there was something about the look in Angel’s eyes that made you believe that he was an adventure that you’d be up for.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” you smiled.

Angel chuckled as he took his phone out of his kutte and handed it over to you, “If you give me your number, I can give you a, uh, a little courtesy call next time I’m around.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you took his phone. For a moment you contemplated putting in a fake number, but going against whatever little alarm bells were going off in the back of your mind, you gave him your real one before handing the phone back over to him.

“Looking forward to it.”

“Let’s go, Angel,” his brother called from his bike with a laugh.

“Looks like you gotta go,” you nodded in the direction of their bikes.

“I’ll see you ‘round, querida,” he shot you a wink before turning to walk away.

“Try not to shoot anyone, boys,” you called after them with a laugh.

Angel smiled over at you as he clipped on his helmet, “No promises.”

[ketamineharry]

I Love Me - Harry Lewis

Requested - Yes ~ can I request an ethan/Harry one where the reader is curvy (bigger boobs/bum/hips etc) compared to Talia + Freya and the other girlfriends and they are on holiday with everyone and the reader feels a bit insecure and scared of what everyone will think when they look at photos, have photo shoots and insta comments, love you and your writing!! 🤍

Trigger Warnings: Body image issues, self-confidence issues

Authors Note: This was originally requested as a holiday, but I changed it slightly as my most recent imagine was a holiday themed one. I hope you don’t mind!

As you entered the restaurant, an uneasy feeling took over you. Usually, being seen out in public with your friends, and your boyfriend Harry wouldn’t phase you — but over lockdown, you had put on a few pounds. Expressing your emotions in a healthy way, had never been your forte so when the lockdown restrictions hit, instead of going to the local pub to drink your sorrows away, with a group of friends you had turned to eating. Comfort eating had become the norm whenever you felt sad, lonely, happy, or to put it more accurately whenever you felt anything.

While you had been piling on the pounds, Talia and Freya, had been keeping to a strict fitness regime. So naturally, they looked incredible. While you just felt deflated. To make matters worse, this was a Sidemen dinner, meaning that not only were there going to be pictures, but eyes were going to be firmly on your table.

Instinctively, as you walked you grabbed for Harry’s hand. Thankfully, he was slightly in front of you, so you could hide yourself behind his broad frame. As soon as your fingers entwined, you found a sense of serenity; despite how short lived that may have been.

As the others crowded around the table, trying to figure out seating arrangements, you focussed your energy in trying to remain calm. All you wanted was to have a seat on the outskirts, so that you wouldn’t have to participate in the group Instagram photos. The self-loathing from the way you looked in this moment was enough to fuel your insecurities for a good few months, you certainly didn’t need the constant reminder on Instagram too.

Luckily, you managed to secure the seat you wanted. Josh, being the father of the group dictated where everyone else was going to sit. Usually, there was a rule of thumb that you sat in couples; but you had ended up sitting in between JJ and Freya. Harry was on the opposite side of the table, his phone in one hand, completely engrossed in an app, knowing him it was most likely Twitter. However, in this seating arrangement you felt sick. Your one lifeline, although not ridiculously far from you, had been cut off. You were going to have to brave this one out.

The waiter approached the table and introduced themselves. He had a cheery disposition until they made eye contact with you, their fake customer service smile fading as he served you his best judgemental glare. It lasted a split second, but you knew what it meant. The feeling of being out of your depth was confirmed in that look, it wasn’t just you that felt it, it was felt by those looking in on this dynamic of people. Why would they want to associate themselves with you?

“And for the lady?” He asked, glancing over at you again. His demeanour changed once more. You remained silent for a moment, mulling over whether to ask for what you actually wanted or order something that you didn’t want to avoid more disapproving glares.

“May I suggest the chicken caesar salad.” He adds, knocking you out of your stream of consciousness.

“That would be lovely thank you.” You respond. The last thing that you wanted was to cause a scene. In fact, the thing you wanted most was to be ignored, unseen. It was blatantly obvious what everyone was thinking, where their stares ended up… all on you.

The plates of food started to arrive, being placed before everyone. You looked around, envious. Their food all looked insanely good, Talia had mac and cheese while Freya had a vegetarian lasagne. To say that you were covetous, as you chowed down on some lettuce, was an understatement. Just some flavour would have been nice.

The same waiter came back to see if anyone wanted any desserts, Harry ordered a chocolate cake with some whipped cream and Freya ordered a cheesecake, Ethan wanted a coffee, the others weren’t really bothered though. What was made apparent, was that you weren’t even asked by the waiter.

Freya turned to you, a sympathetic look on her face. “Are you ok?” She asked, as she placed a hand on your shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” You mumbled unconvincingly, certain that Freya could pick up on how you were feeling. She had been sitting next to you the entire time after all.

“Let’s go to the ladies yeah? I’ll just text Josh to let him know what’s going on.” She said, as she retrieved her phone from her bag. She quickly sent the text before she grabbed your hand and directed you to the bathroom.

Freya held the door open for you, as you both walked inside, she went over to the sinks and climbed up on top of them. Crossing her arms. Inspecting you slightly.

“So, spill… what’s wrong with ya?” She questioned, with a small reassuring smile.

You took a deep breath in and out, as you tried to steady yourself. As much as you loved Freya, talking about your feelings to anyone was a challenge that you faced daily. It was hard enough being open with Harry about your feelings, and he was the person that you trusted most. Never mind one of your closest friends.

“I hate the way I look.” You confessed, as you subconsciously started to tug at the dress you were wearing. It all of a sudden felt too tight, too claustrophobic, as if the material had shrunk from the time it took you to walk from your table into the bathroom.

“You and Talia, you are both gorgeous and slim. I’m not that way at all. You can wear whatever you want and look good. If I so much as looked at a belly top, people would be disgusted.”

Freya remained silent, letting you ramble on about how much you hated your body and what you looked like. How out of place you felt and what you wish you could change about yourself. When you were finally finished, she jumped down off of the counter and engulfed you in a hug.

“Don’t you ever, ever feel like you aren’t good enough. You are the funniest person I have ever met. You make me belly laugh every single day. You spread so much positivity, and you make sure that everyone around you feels loved. I am slim, but do you know what… I’d kill for a rack like yours.” She whispered, as she comforted you.

“As for that asshole waiter who has been making you feel like shit all night, don’t think that no-one else has noticed it, because they have. They’re all too polite to embarrass him in public, but trust me, he’ll get his comeuppance. Now, wipe those tears and let’s go show him what a fucking bad ass bitch you are.” She laughed, as she grabbed your hand once again, as she led you back out to the table.

The bill was laid out on the table, the seven cards were placed on top of it as you rejoined the group.

“Here she is.” Harry beamed, as he reached out for you. You went and gave him a hug, before taking your seat again.

As the waiter collected the bill, Harry called him over. “I’d like to give you a cash tip, can you follow me outside so I can draw the cash out?” He asked. The waiter nodded, a gleam in his eye. Harry gave you a gesture, letting you know to follow him.

Once you were outside, how cold it was finally hit you. It made you recoil into yourself.

“Yeah, the tip I wanted to give you was to never, and I mean never try to ridicule my girlfriend about anything.” Harry said, swiftly connecting his right fist to the waiters cheek.

“Run.” He shouted, as he grabbed your hand, your feet pounding on the floor until you reached the car. You were both panting, leaning on each other for support.

“You do know you’re still a ten out of ten to me. No matter what.” Harry smiled, as he placed a kiss to the top of your head. “Now let’s go and get a McDonalds, because I know you’re still hungry and it’s your favourite.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

An Officer and a Gentleman

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; oral, anal, cheating (sort of), name-calling.

This is dark!(silverfox)Lee Bodecker x (married)reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your after hours work gets in the way of your day job.

Note: I had the first half sitting around and finished it so here ya go. It takes place in the 70s so Lee is older and it was inspired by an article I read about the creation phone sex lines by a housewife in the 70s (which now of course I can’t flippin find). But anyway, here you go.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The sheriff sat down in his usual spot as you wiped your hands on the rag tucked into your apron. He set his hat on the table and tidied his greying hair. Even at his age, his locks were thick and looked soft. Strands of brown lined the shining silver and shone under the diner lights.

He came in at the same time every day, only an hour into your shift. You approached and flipped the cup on its saucer before you filled it. He took only sugar, no cream 

or milk. You smiled as you watched him read over the menu, he never ordered anything but the waffles.

“Good morning, sheriff,” you said as you held the carafe aloft. “Lookin’ to try something new?”

“‘Dols Leck’?” Lee Bodecker mispronounced the French words, “What’s that?”

“Dolce Leche,” you corrected, “It’s caramel.”

“Hmm.” He rubbed his ruddy cheek and reached for his mug. He drank and held out the menu. “Waffles with strawberry.”

“Extra cream,” you finished for him. He nodded and had another gulp as you walked away.

You put in his ticket after you replaced the coffee pot on the burner. You checked on the few other customers along the counter and wiped down the empty tables. The bell rang and you went to grab the sheriff’s breakfast from the window. You set the plate down before him as he folded the newspaper and replaced it in the little holder at the end of the table.

“How’s Eugene?” He asked as he unwrapped his cutlery. “And the boy?”

“Gene’s still on nights.” You lamented and subconsciously touched your stomach. “Little Ezra’s almost a year now.”

Your boy was buxom and buoyant. You smiled as you thought of his round cheeks and warm brown eyes. You only wished his father was around more to take him off your hip as you cooked and cleaned in your spare hours after work. Eugene was asleep as much as he was at the factory. You saw each other in passing as you scraped for ends meet.

Ezra was with Eugene’s mother during the day. You’d pick him up and take him home to wait for your husband to wake. If you were lucky, you got a kiss before he grabbed his lunch pail and headed out for his twelve hours. You hadn’t gotten more than that since before Ezra came. Neither of you had the time or energy, though the want was there.

“And you sheriff? How are you doing these days?” You asked before you could get lost in your self-pity.

“Ah, you know. The same old. Patrol’s ain’t too exciting.” He cut into the stack and licked his lips. He was a man with a sweet tooth, a substitute for his former alcoholic habit.

“Well, you enjoy, sheriff, you know how to get my attention.” You left him and did a round of refills for those eating and greeted the new arrivals.

Lee was always alone when he came in. He never brought any of his cadets or officers, he just sat, read the newspaper, and ate his waffles. He wasn’t married and had no children. Nearly fifty years on his back but he seemed content on his own. You almost envied him as you struggled with your small family.

🚔

You laid Ezra down carefully in his crib. He was getting big. You tickled his forehead and watched him for a moment before you left the room. It was late. Eugene was gone and the phone would ring soon. You had to prepare yourself for your night time duties.

It started small. An idea found in the pages of one of those feminist magazines, the very ones your husband called good kindling. A woman lost her job, still hard-fought for the domestic sex, and found herself in a similar way as yourself. Money was always needed and harder to come about. So she started her own service for the lonely men. A phone line with illicit intentions.

You read about it in the late stages of your pregnancy and laughed at the idea. It was so stupid. So scandalous. But once you were back to work and Eugene was on the late shift, you grew lonely and your checkbook was harder to open.

You hand wrote the little cards after a visit to the phone company. Eugene didn’t know about the second line. The number redirected to your main line and was active for only three hours a night, after your husband was gone. It was registered as a commercial line so each incoming call was billed to the dialer and a percentage was refunded on your own invoice.

You left the number around town, certain not to be seen as you dropped the cards in the car shop and the bar. At least, you hoped you hadn’t been seen.

The first night had you addled and sleepless until your shift began at the diner. It was hard to keep up the sultry voice and the lies. Difficult to act like the whole thing didn’t make you cringe. The men called and said their dirty words as you encouraged them with moans and little prods. “Oh yes, baby.” or “Tell me more.” It felt like you were cheating on your husband but it kept his plate full and the house warm.

The phone didn’t ring right away that night. Later in the week, you got more calls but one or two was better than none. The real profit was keeping them on the line as long as you could, but there were times you had to end abruptly to see to your wailing child.

You were half-asleep when the first call came in. You fumbled with the receiver and batted away your fatigue with your lashes. You held in a yawn and your sleepiness added to the allure of your put-on voice.

“Hello, mister, what are you longing for tonight?” You laid back on your pillow and played with the spiral cord.

“Well, I…” You blinked and held the phone against your ear. He sounded familiar, as many of the men did, but his timbre made your ears prick sharply. “I don’t know. I never did nothing like this before.”

You squinted and thought. You knew him but you couldn’t place the twinge in your head.

“I can start for you, darling,” you offered. “Mmm, tell you what I would do to you?”

He cleared his throat and you heard movement. He was nervous. So many of the men sounded the same. Most of them were afraid of being caught by their wives or uncertain about their desires. At first, you had the same fears but had since grown indifferent. It was human nature, as natural as one’s instinct to quench their thirst for water.

“How do you like it, darling? You like it when a lady bends over? I like it like that. Or maybe you want to start with me on my back.”

He groaned and you heard the receiver scratch. He let out a strained breath and moved the phone to his other hand.

“I want to use your mouth.” He said at last. His voice was low and gristly. “I want to push your head down in my lap as I choke you with my cock.”

You stared at the ceiling as you reclined and hummed. “Oh yeah.”

“Shut up.” He snarled. “I don’t want to hear your voice, I just want your mouth on me until you can’t fucking breathe. I want to hear you struggle. I was your tears streaming down your face and salting the taste of me on my tongue. I want to hold you down and cum until it’s deep in your belly.”

You parted your lips and raised your brows. You were still focused on trying to recognize the voice. His tone made you quiver. He was more forceful than most men. A lot of them just talked about sucking on your tits or went straight to fucking.

“I’d love that, darling.” You lied and bent one leg over the other as you swayed your foot.

“I said shut up!” He hissed. “I want to hold you down with my hands around your neck. I want to fuck you until your screaming. I’ll fuck you until you bleed. Until you beg for me to cum again.”

His breath was furious and you heard something else. The phone was moving against his chin as he moaned and you were certain you could hear his hand somewhere else; lower. It set your cheeks on fire and you sat up. His voice, his breath, the sheer anger and lust laced in his rasps. Your throat tightened as if he was truly choking you.

“But I want to cum in your ass. I want to make it hurt. I want you to cry as I tear you apart from the inside.” He growled and coughed as his voice fizzled out. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He stroked himself furiously and the receiver dropped with a thump and you flinched. “Fucking bitch, yeah, you want my cock deep in your ass. Fucking whore.”

Your fingers hurt as you gripped the phone tightly and listened. His curses streamed steadily until the line clicked and died suddenly. You lowered the receiver and stairs at the little whole clustered together on the mouthpiece. You set it in the cradle and turned to sit on the edge of the bed.

It was unlike any call you’d had. It was terrifying and made your blood curdle. You felt as if it had actually happened as your chest was heavy and your heart raced. You blew out a shaky breath and reached to silence the ringer. 

That was enough for the night.

🚔

The next day at the diner, you couldn’t stop yawning. You hadn’t slept much as the call replayed in your head over and over. The man’s voice was so clear in your mind and every time you started to drift off, he spoke in your ear. You dragged the rag over the top of the counter as Amelia spoke with the elderly couple in that corner.

The door chimed and you looked up. Sheriff Bodecker took off his hat as he entered and nodded at you. With the coffee pot in hand, you went to his table, already set for his arrival. You wished him a good morning and filled his cup. His voice was thick as he muttered his response and picked up the menu. He looked as tired as you felt.

“Strawberry, sheriff?” You prompted.

“Hmm,” he scratched his chin, stubbly from a missed shave. “This Dolsay Leckay. I’ll try that today.” He held out his menu. “I’m trying new things this week.”

You took the menu stiffly and nodded. “Waffles with dolce leche sauce. Right away, sheriff.” 

You turned and walked off to write out his ticket. You returned the coffee pot to its place and set down the menu as you took out your pad and pen. Your hand shook as you scribbled out the order. You stuck it in the window and leaned on the counter.

It couldn’t be him. You were crazy. You didn’t get enough sleep and you were wanting to hear that voice everywhere. Your reassurances were weak and only made you shiver as you righted yourself and continued wiping down the tables.

You angled yourself to look at the sheriff as he squinted down at the newspaper. He stuck his tongue out as he read to poke his top lip and tilted his head coyly. He cleared his throat and coughed as his order rang in the window. 

You went to grab the plate and struggled not to fumble it. It was him. The way he coughed, the gravelly scratch of his throat, the deep and firm undertone. You couldn’t deny it was him. You were stunned you hadn’t recognized him at once.

“There you are, sheriff,” you said as you set down his plate. “Enjoy.”

“I think I will,” he rubbed his hands together. “I’m starving this morning.”

“If you need anything,” you made your usual offer.

He looked at you and smiled. You noticed how his eyes strayed to your name tag and the buttons of your blue dress. He turned to his waffles and took out the knife and fork.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he said as he ran the tines of the fork through the dark caramel. “I think I’m just fine.”

You left him to eat and straightened your apron. You were confident you’d changed your voice enough that he didn’t have the same epiphany. Even so, everything about him was different. At least in your head. He was no longer the desolate sheriff, he was desperate and demanding. He wasn’t who you thought he was. He was a man with a lot of power and a hunger to use it.

🚔

It was several days before you dared to leave the ringer on after Eugene’s departure. Your husband was loving but almost entirely absent. Since Ezra was born, he’d only grown more distant and work could not excuse him completely. When you ate dinner late with him, he barely heard you as he kept the radio on and those nights he didn’t work, he didn’t touch you.

You felt worse for your own misdeeds. The phone line made you shy and sullen with him. You should tell him but you didn’t know how and truly, you couldn’t. You knew he wouldn’t take it well and even if he was barely there, you couldn’t lose him. You were already painfully alone.

That night, he volunteered for overtime and so you hardly saw him before he headed out. He said you needed the money but your books were well balanced from your own after hours work. You’d done it to take the burden off of him but he still took the extra time, even as you argued that your bills were in good standing. 

Was it you? When had it all grown so cold?

Ezra ate his mashed peas and you set him down for the night. You heard him cooing still but you kept to your schedule even when he was wide awake. He always tired himself out and never fussed very long.

You sat on your bed and read. You checked the time. The phone would start soon and that night you couldn’t leave it off. You needed the money and you couldn’t be picky about where it came from. The month would be over and there would be a whole new batch of debts to account for.

You jumped as it rang. You kept the volume low so it didn’t carry through the whole house and you answered after several rings. You gave your usual greeting and breathed a sigh of relief when it was one of your regulars. You closed your book and picked your nails as you went along with his routine.

When he finished, you wished him a good night. You were dead tired but one more call wouldn’t hurt. You waited and grabbed the receiver on the first ring.

“Hello, mister, what are you looking for tonight?” You made your voice higher and breathier.

“Shhhh.” The long hush chills your veins. “Don’t talk.”

You quivered. It was him. You looked at the phone cradle.

“Don’t hang up.” He said as if he could read your mind. “You want it, don’t you? You want to feel me inside you. Down your throat, fucking the whore out of you.”

“I…” you uttered.

“I said be quiet.” He barked. “I want my cock so far down your throat I can feel it as I choke you. I want your spit all over me, I want you gasping and gulping until you pass out and I’m fucking your mouth lifeless.”

Your eyes widened and you listened in disgust. He growled and his hand slapped off his thigh as he pleasured himself. You sit paralysed as fear bubbled in your chest and you felt as if he could see you. You crossed your legs and huddled down over the receiver.

“I want to fuck your cunt until it hurts to sit down. I want to hear my body slam into yours, I want you to beg me to stop and keep going at the same time. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t make a noise, until all you can hear is my cock pounding inside of you.”

“Please…” You wanted him to stop. You wanted to hang up and yet you were terrified to move.

“And I know you want it too, whore. I know you need it. Not these words, not these calls, but you need me,” he shuddered “and I need it just as bad.”

He grunted and the line grew still. He hissed and cursed. 

“I’m a fucking mess,” he sneered. Another silence and you think he hung up. His voice startled you when he spoke again. “Who’re ya?”

“Wh-what?”

“I ain’t stupid. You’re some lady in the county. Maybe some lonely housewife. Ain’t sound like no prostitute I ever knew.” He sniffed and let out a groan. “Maybe you some dumb teenager playin’ games on the telephone, huh?”

“I don’t-- No. I--” You hung up. 

You stood and pulled the line out of the phone and dropped down heavily. You put your head in your hands and shook it. Fuck!

🚔

The next morning at the diner, you served the sheriff with a false smile. Every time he spoke, you heard the words he said to you on the phone. Although his tone was placid, his fervour played over and over in your ears. And when you overpoured his coffee, you apologized only to have him assure you it was alright and let you mop up the mess with your rag.

He left you his usual tip and you cleared his table. The newspaper was tinged from your spill and you dumped it on his plate. As you did, a card slipped out onto the table and your handwriting stared back at you from the carefully cut rectangle. You hid it quickly in the newspaper and rushed to toss it all in the trash and drop the plate in the bin.

It must have been a mistake, you assured yourself and excused yourself for a breath of air. The chef, Carson, was already by the kitchen doors and you said yes to a smoke from his pack. You lit it after the third try and inhaled the tobacco deep into your chest. You would go to the phone company tomorrow on your day off and shut down the second line. Your lesson was learned. It wasn’t worth the spare pennies.

Your day dragged by as all you could think of was the line. When you got to the phone company, you were jittery with worry. It was easy enough to shut it down but the fee cost you your tips for the day. You checked the clock before you left, bound to be a few minutes late picking up Ezra.

As you came out onto the street, your open jacket flapped in the wind over your uniform and your mary janes clacked on the pavement as you rushed to get to Enid’s and pick up your son. When you stopped at the corner to wait for traffic to pass, a flash and a honk made you jump.

Sheriff Bodecker pulled up to the curb and rolled down his window. He waved and leaned his arm on the door as he peered out at you.

“You needa ride?” He asked.

You smiled awkwardly and clutched the handles of your weathered purse.

“Sheriff, no thank you, I’m not goin’ too far,” you waved him off.

“Nonsense, you on your feet all day. It’s the least I can do.”

“You must be busy.”

“Radio ain’t goin’ off,” he slapped the door, “now come on.” He reached down and opened the door, stepping out with a groan, “Get in. You always are so nice down at the diner.”

You swallowed and your lips quivered as you tried to hold your smile. You followed him around the other side of the car as he opened the door for you. You got into the vintage cruiser and crossed your legs as you cradled your purse on your lap. He closed the door and dropped in on the other side.

He shifted into gear and pulled off. You thanked him and fiddled with clasp of your purse.

“No problem, but uh, I just needa know where you’re goin’,” he chuckled as he slowed at the next four way.

“Oh, I gotta get Ezra from his gramma’s,” you explained, “She lives just down Carsbee.”

“Not far at all,” he commented as he turned the wheel, “So, how was the rest of your day then?”

“Not so bad,” you said breathily as he looked at you in his mirror and you focused on the pedestrians on the street, “and yours, sheriff?”

“You can call me Lee if ya like,” he offered, “And wasn’t so bad either. Which number is it, sweetheart?”

You sniffed at the pet name, he was usually so formal at the diner with his ma’ams.

“21B,” you answered as you wiggled your foot nervously, “you can just drop me off. It’s not too far to home.”

“Don’t be silly, I wanna meet your boy,” he intoned, “you talk about him so much.”

“Oh, uh, of course,” you murmured as he pulled up along the front of your mother-in-law’s, “I just gotta go get him then.”

You hooked your purse over your elbow and slid over the seat. The sheriff kept you from opening the door as he bid you stay and got out quickly as he rushed around the front of the car. He opened the door like a gentleman and removed his hat. 

“I’m old but I haven’t forgot my manners,” he nodded and waited for you to step out.

You got to your feet and thanked him again before you strolled up the crooked walk to the front door. You knocked and let yourself in like you always did. You could hear Ezra babbling as he played with wooden toy cars. Enid sat in her usual spot and rocked as she watched him.

“How was he today?” You asked as you grabbed the bag you always left with him and packed up the loose ends beside it.

“Loud,” Enid muttered, “hyper.”

“Well, he’s at that age,” you grasped your purse and Ezra’s bag in one hand and picked him up from the floor as he reached out for you. “Alright, Ez, say buh bye to grammy.”

He waved and cooed as you held him on your hip. Enid said buy in her grumpy way and got up to see you to the door. You came down the single step as Lee waited by his cruiser. Ezra buried his face in your shoulder as he turned away from the sheriff.

“Don’t be shy, Ezra, this is the sheriff, Mr. Bodecker,” you tried to shake him upright but he clung to you and hid.

“Ah, don’t worry, I’m used to that,” Lee laughed and opened the door, “people see the badge and they’re not so friendly.”

“He just goin’ through a phase,” you assured as you sat with Ezra in your lap.

As Lee shut the door, you let the bags lean against it and the car dipped as he got in the other side. He turned the engine and you gave him your own address as your son squirmed in your lap. At the first corner, Ezra found the courage to look at the sheriff and the officer looked back and stuck out his tongue.

“He looks like you,” Lee said as he pushed down on the pedal, “real cute.”

You accepted the compliment and hugged Ezra tighter. You could barely process the sheriff’s words as your mind returned to those he spoke the night before. Every time he spoke, you heard him, hissing and cussing at you.

You were relieved when he came up to your house and you turned to grab your bags. You felt a tug on your elbow as you balanced Ezra and your things. You looked back at Lee as he held your arm.

“I’ll get the door,” he said, “you just stay put.”

You waited as he let you go and once more, opened the door for you. He took the bags as you climbed out and you protested that you were fine. His hand settled on your shoulder as he pulled you to face him.

“Well, sweetheart, you gonna invite me in for some coffee?”

You were shocked by his boldness and couldn’t hide it. You blanched and looked at Ezra as he tugged at your jacket. You laughed awkwardly.

“Eugene’s still sleepin’ for his shift, I don’t--”

“We got some things to discuss and I think the least you can do after I was so kind as to drive you home is a coffee.”

You squinted at him in confusion. “Maybe another time, sheriff, I’d really hate to wake--” you reached for your bags and he stopped you with his grip firm on your wrist.

“Does he know?” Lee asked in a gristly voice.

“Know what?”

“Know you a whore?” Lee sneered.

You reeled and tried to twist from his grasp. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You can’t say them words on the phone and not mean ‘em,” he leaned in close, “Now I think you know what I want to talk with you about so you invite me in and I’ll be real nice about it but if you keep me out here, I can’t promise your neighbours won’t get a show.”

You pouted and rocked Ezra as he began to fidget, sensing your discomfort. “Please, I got Ezra--”

“You put him in the next room so we can discuss,” Lee insisted.

He let go of you and you nodded dumbly. You watched him wearily as you turned and led him up the walk. You unlocked the front door and he followed you inside. He hung his hat on the rack with his leather jacket and you hurried into the bedroom to set Ezra down in his crib. You distracted him with his stuffed rabbit and left him. He was usually due for a nap around then anyway.

When you got back to the front room, Lee sat on your couch and you went to the kitchen to start the coffee. You waited for the water to boil and filled the percolator as you dreaded what would come next. You poured a mug and set it out on the coffee table with the sugar dish. 

Lee leaned forward and spooned the sweet powder into his mug as you stood and wrung your hands. How had he figured it all out? How long had he known? Was he going to tell Eugene?

“Sit,” he said as he inhaled the savoury scent and took a cautious sip. His mug made a deafening clink as he set it down and you sat. “I s’pose you went by the phone company to end your little game.”

You sucked your lip in nervously and nodded as you looked down guiltily.

“Mhmm,” he hummed, “you know I was down there a few days ago and they just hand the records over if I say I got a warrant. They ain’t look close enough to realise it’s just a receipt.”

You gulped and kept your head down. You ran your tongue against your lip and blinked away the moisture in your eyes.

“How long you been doin’ all that?” he asked.

“Couple months,” you admitted, “I just needed some extra money. Ever since Ezra was born…”

“But you could get another job.”

“I gotta be home for the boy. Eugene never is.”

“Now a woman don’t be talkin’ like that if she happy. If she not alone.”

“Stop, please. It was a mistake. I’m sorry if you feel like I--”

“Sorry?” he interrupted, “you’re sorry? You think Gene would accept that?”

You sat in silence and picked at the button on your jacket. You hadn’t even bothered to take it off. “You gonna tell him?”

He let out a heavy breath and took another drink of coffee. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

You looked at him and furrowed your brow in confusion. You shook your head as he smirked.

“I will if you make me but if you want me to stay quiet--”

“Sheriff--”

“Shhhh,” he raised a finger, “now, you want me keep my mouth shut, you be waitin’ for me tonight after he goes.”

You stared at him in terror as your heart threatened to jump up your throat.

“And then we’re done talkin’. Then you do all those things we spoke about.”

“You can’t-- I got a son.”

“And a husband but you still be talkin’ to strange men about your pretty little pussy, don’t you?”

You blew a shaky breath between your trembling lips and sank down in the chair in shame. “I thought you were a good man, sheriff.”

“I am, don’t mean I’m not lonely.”

He drained the rest of the mug and coughed. He stood and adjusted his belt, his hand lingering on his belt. You watched his finger trace the barrel and your eyes crept up to his face.

“I’d hate to wake your husband, sweetheart, so I’ll be on my way.” he retreated around the couch and paused by the door, “but I’ll be around.”

🚔

The night went by faster than any. You never felt like you got much time with your husband but it was almost as if he was gone as soon as he woke. He left you with a peck on your forehead and dread in your chest. You thought of telling him, you wanted to confess and fix everything that had broken, but you couldn’t. You were too ashamed.

So when he was gone, you put Ezra down for the night and hoped the Sheriff was just trying to scare you. He couldn’t be serious, could he? You’d known him for years and he was only every sweet at the diner. He was a solitary man but was never unkind. That afternoon, he had been an entirely different man.

You sat on the couch, no radio, no nothing, and picked at the lines of your hand. You were certain you would sit up all night and laugh at yourself in the morning. He was just making sure you stopped, that had to be it.

But then the knock came and your whole body went rigid. You waited until it sounded again, harder, louder. You got up and went to the door. You didn’t need to look out to know who it was. You opened up and Lee watched you with his menacing blue eyes. They were no longer the gentle gems you knew from the diner.

“Sweetheart,” he drawled as he stepped inside and you backed away from him.

He closed the door and locked it then he removed his hat and jacket, just as he had earlier. He bent to ease off his boots and stood as he cleared his throat. He peered behind you and looked around your small house.

“I’m just in time, huh?” he mused as he touched your side and let it slip down to your hip. “What you shakin’ for?”

“I thought…” you rasped. “Sheriff, you know me. I’m not a bad woman.”

“You ain’t?” he snickered. “I do know you. I’m the only one in the county who knows the real you.”

“I don’t understand why you’re doin’ this,” you whined.

“I’m old but not decrepit,” he took your hand and raised it, “and you’re a beautiful woman. I daresay,” he kissed the back of your hand, “motherhood did make you even sweeter.”

“Please,” you begged.

“You get in that bedroom before I lose the last of my will,” he bit his lip as he looked you up and down and released your hand.

You shivered and backed away from him. You went blindly to the bedroom and stopped in the doorway. You couldn’t, not in the bed you shared with your husband. Lee came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle.  His hot breath tickled your ear as he leaned into you.

“I wanna see what you hide under that dress,” he purred, “now don’t make me ruin it.”

You gasped and drew away from him. You neared the foot of the bed and unbuttoned the top of your dress. Your fingers were ungainly as you struggled and you pushed the sleeves down your arms with a stifled sob. You shoved the fabric past your waist and hips and his growl made you stand upright with a snap.

Your stockings were held up by fraying garters and your old underwear added to your shame. Your brasserie was pointed and too tight. You hung your head and balled your hands into fists.

“Turn around, I wanna see you,” he said.

You reluctantly obeyed and stared at the floor. He hummed and his thumb ran over his belt buckle. A sudden cry made your blood cold and he scowled. Ezra was awake.

You moved to go to him and the sheriff blocked the door.

“I gotta go to him. He must’ve had a bad dream.”

“I’ll take care of the boy. You just be waitin’ when I get back.” he ran his tongue under his teeth, “naked.”

He pointed to the bed and didn’t leave until you took several steps back. You listened as he went to the small room attached to the master. You worried he might hurt the boy but his coaxing voice surprised you. 

“Shhh,” you heard the distant tone, “it’s okay, son, it’s okay.”

You reached to unhook your bra and sat to roll your stockings off. You needed this man gone. If you abided him, he would be away sooner. You dropped the last of your clothing to the floor and sat on the edge of the bed. Your nails dug into the blankets and you closed your eyes.

It was over a year since you’d been touched. That alone made you shy but that man made you terrified. You heard him enter but didn’t look up at him. “You get up on all fours and ready that mouth for me.” he ordered as you heard his buckle tink, “yeah, I wanna start there.”

You swallowed and did as he said. You felt like some lowly animal as you stared at the floor. You heard the flutter of fabric as he stripped and when he came close, you shut your eyes. He grabbed your hand and jerked you to the edge. He tapped the tip of his cock along your lips.

“Now, open up, sweetheart,” he snarled, “I know you remember every word I said.”

You parted your lips and he forced his way into your mouth. He poked at the back of your throat but didn’t relent. You gagged as he sank down your throat and your entire body twitched. His hand went to your neck as he drew back and pushed back in. He felt himself as he invaded your throat over and over.

“Ah, yes, that’s it,” he uttered, “you can’t tell me you’re not a whore. You take me like one.”

You tried to swallow around him and breath and it made him groan. He kept fucking your face as his hand squeezed your throat. Your spit spilled out and smeared across your face and his pelvis. He kept your head bobbing until you were dizzy and dazed.

He stopped, deep down your throat, and grunted. He let out a shuddery breath and pushed you off of him. You slipped down onto your stomach and gasped over the side of the bed.

“Hoo, I almost blew,” he huffed, “oh, you bad, bad girl.” He trailed his hand down your back and slapped your ass, “turn around and get back up.”

You whimpered and lifted yourself back to your knees. You moved stiffly around and wiped your mouth as the taste of him stained your tongue. He grabbed your hips and pulled you back. He kneaded your ass with hungry growls and pinched your thigh. He felt along your cunt and tutted.

“You wet for me,” he taunted, “just from a taste, sweetheart.”

You dropped your head and he moved closer. He pressed the head of his dick against your folds and ran it up and down as you slickened. He lined up with your entrance and his large hand gripped your hip. He slid into you with a sigh and you let out a startled cry. Maybe it was because it was so long but he felt massive. You quivered around him and clenched your teeth.

“Oh, fuck, you want it just as bad as me, don’t ya?” He bucked his hips and you exclaimed, “how am I suppose to hold back with you squeezin’ me like that?”

He didn’t hold back as he caught his stride. He hammered into you as your flesh slapped loudly. You feared the noise would wake your son again, or worse, be heard by the neighbours. He groaned and grunted as he rammed into you and your thighs quaked. Ripples rolled over your spine and multiplied down your legs.

He stretched his hand over your back and slid them up to your shoulders. He bent over you as he forced your arms to fold beneath you and pushed your head into the mattress. He stilled and wiggled his hips until you moaned. He pulled one hand away from your shoulder as the other spread over your neck.

He slid out of your cunt and spread your juices up and down. He guided his dick between your cheeks and leaned into to pant in your ear. “I didn’t forget about your ass.”

He pushed against your hole and you tensed. His hand tightened on your neck and he poked harder. 

“You relax or it’ll hurt more,” he coaxed, “come on, almost…”

He pushed past your ring and you both gasped. Your eyes filled with tears and you sniffed as he urged himself deeper past your resistance. He let out a long breath as he advanced inch by inch. He drew back each time before adding more and when he was at his limit, you sobbed and clawed at the mattress.

“Oh, oh, fuck, oh, shit,” he swore as he rocked his hips, “you know, urgh, I wanted to do this for so long. Even ‘fore I called.”

He growled and built a steady pace as he stretched you. Your tears seeped into the blanket as his grip threatened to break your neck. His belly bounced against the top of your ass as he rutted without restraint.

“I always thought ‘bout you over that table. Always thought-- Always thought you deserved better than that husband,” he rasped out, “but I never thought you’d feel so good.”

He slammed into you harder than before. Your legs fell out from beneath you and he was quick to descend over you, covering you with his body as he bent his arm across the back of your head. He fucked you into the mattress as your head began to spin and your body reacted to his.

You’d never felt anything so intense as the maelstrom of pain and pleasure building inside you. You moaned and muttered until the sudden tide swept you up and had you murmuring like a fool, drooling onto the bed as he kept on.

He planted his hand on either side of you and lifted himself. He dropped his hips down into your ass over and over. The symphony of flesh filled your mind and you succumbed to the afterglow of tortured delight. He sank as far as he could and spasmed.

“Shit, oh, sweetheart, sweetheart,” he slowed and lowered his sweaty body onto you. You suffocated beneath him as his heart beat against your back. “Oh, you made me… made me blow.” He tilted his hips. “You feel how I filled your ass?”

You let out shallow breaths and turned your face into the blanket. He grunted and raised himself off of you, his cock slipping out easily and his cum trickling down after. He fell onto his back beside you and tried to catch his breath. He reached over blindly and let his fingertips dance along your ass.

“Really it ain’t your fault,” he said as his fingers crawled along the top of your thigh, “a man must be crazy to leave you all alone at night.”

[angryschnauzer]

Just What I Need

Summary; Working in a coffee shop you meet all sorts of people, but one customer in particular is always friendly, a local Detective from the nearby precinct. When one night he orders through a delivery service rather than in store, you get more than a tip when you make the delivery.

Fandom; Nomis (Night Hunter) Movie, Henry Cavill

Pairing: Detective Walter Marshall x Female Reader (no race or size specified)

Trope: Coffee Shop Meet Cute

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Flirting, Masturbation (male), Oral Sex (female recieving), unprotected sex, Vaginal Sex, Snowstorms.

I do not operate a tag list but instead please pop over and follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications, then you’ll get an alert every time i post a new story. My Masterlist got too long and tumblr ate it, so all my past stories can also be found on my AO3, link HERE

A/N: I am considering expanding this story, depending if people like it and want me to? Let me know! <3

Just What I Need

 Running the steam through the coffee machine you wiped the nozzle and smiled, there were just fifteen minutes until closing and the coffee shop you worked at was all but abandoned. Just your manager in the back counting the cash takings, and you were getting ready to box up the remaining muffins and cookies for the homeless shelter volunteer to collect dead on closing time.

 You didn’t mind working the late shift, in fact you preferred it over the early shift opening up at 7am. The 7am crowd were grumpy, rude and always in a rush. The 7pm customers were tired, quiet, and always thankful for whatever caffeinated delights you provided them with.

 The bell over the door rang as it opened and you looked up over the cups that were stacked on top of the machine, smiling at you saw the weary familiar face coming towards you;

 “Good Evening Detective” you smiled as the beast of a man stood at the counter. His face softened as he saw you, his shoulders dropping a little as he relaxed.

 “Hey… Sorry I’m in so late… you’re still open, right?”

 You glanced at the clock;

 “Another ten minutes. What can i get you?”

 You watched as he cast his gaze up to the handwritten chalkboard menu’s above the counter;

 “You got any Chilli left?”

 “Sure, a couple of pots in the fridge. Want me to warm it up?”

 He paused for a moment, as if trying to process the most technical question through his tired mind;

 “No… yes… urghhh…” he took a deep breath; “Yeah… if you wouldn’t mind. I’m so fuckin’ tired i think I’d burn my apartment down if i tried to use the stove”

 “Sure thing” you said with a smile as you got to work.

 You made small talk as you prepared his order, pulling out the sides and condiments that came with the Chilli meal;

 “Hey, you want a free muffin?”

 “I’m not really into sweet things this late at night… what flavours you got?”

“How about an Apple Cinnamon? It’ll last overnight and still be fresh enough for breakfast”

 The Detective smiled and nodded, pulling his wallet out as you finished bagging his order and rang it through for him, paying before you handed the bag to him;

 “Have a good evening Detective”

 As he turned he smiled at you;

 “Call me Walter”

 -

 Three days later and you were on the late shift again. Again it was quiet, just the soft sound of tyres driving through slushy snow outside the only noise since around 6pm as just a couple of customers nursed steaming mugs of coffee from their window seats. You saw the big silver truck pull up in the space outside the coffeeshop and smiled, there was only one customer that drove a truck that huge and if you were being honest with yourself you were developing quite a crush on the curly haired Detective.

 The moment he walked through the door you were smiling at him;

 “Detective” you greeted him happily

 “Didn’t i say to call me Walter last time i was here?”

 “I like Detective, has a nice authority ring to it” you said with a wink; “What can i get you tonight?”

 He paused for a moment, and as you reached for a notepad to jot down his order you missed the slight eyebrow raise and smirk at what you’d said before he cleared his throat;

 “What have you got that i can eat in my office without facing the wrath of my Lieutenant for making the department stink?” he said with a grin as he leaned on the counter.

 “I got Mozzarella and Pesto Subs? Tuna Melt?”

 “Tuna is a no. The case isn’t going well, no fish. Gimme two Mozzarella Subs, and the largest black coffee you do”

 “Sure thing. I’ll put a fresh pot on and get those sub’s on the press”

 As you started to prepare his order his phone rang, and you couldn’t help but to listen in;

 “... i’ll be like five minutes, i ain’t eaten all day… yeah ok… i’ll grab a box…”

 He hung up and nodded to the cakes;

 “Can i get a dozen muffins to go too? Got some grunts that are jealous that i got to escape the paperwork…”

 “Sure thing”

 Loading a box you picked what you knew were the best flavours and the freshest bakes;

 “You know, we’re on Uber Eats. As much as its nice to see a friendly face, we can deliver to the Precinct”

 “I… I have no idea what that is…”

 “Its a food delivery app. Here, give me your phone…”

 He unlocked it and set it down and rested his elbows on the counter as he watched;

 “You go to the app store and just download it. Put in your location and it’ll bring up nearby eateries and you can search for us. It has all the standard menu on. Save your card details or link it to paypal, and its super easy, it even keeps you updated when the order is being prepared or its out for delivery”

 He smiled as you pushed the phone back to him, locking the screen and pushing it back into his tight jeans;

 “That’s all well and good, but then i wouldn’t get a chance to see my favourite coffee shop girl now, would i?”

 You leaned forward and grinned, keeping your voice low;

 “Order between 6.45 and 7pm and i snag the deliveries and do them on my way home”

 -

 Walter pushed the key into the lock, opening the door to his apartment and groaning as his body ached from tiredness. He should be elated, they caught the killer, the evidence was logged and couldn’t be disputed… and yet he was tired to his core. He’d been at his desk for longer than he’d been home, and when the Lieutenant had finally ordered him to go him a little after 5pm, it had still taken him the better part of an hour to finish up and leave the building. 

 Shutting the door behind him he felt his stomach rumble. He didn’t even need to look in the fridge to know it was completely empty, devoid of anything even vaguely edible. Checking his phone he saw that it was a little after 6.30pm and a thought fired across his mind, a smile forming. Fifteen minutes later he’d added far more to his online basket than he ever would have done in store, but for the first time he was able to see exactly what the creations were whereas in the store it was just a big pile of weird looking cakes and bakes. By 6.50pm he’d entered his card details and completed the order, the little update screen stating delivery would be by 7.30pm, just enough time to grab a shower, after all if it was you that would deliver, he should probably shower for the first time in 72 hours having rushed out of the apartment three mornings in a row due to new leads in the case.

 The shower was far too enjoyable to rush, and after he’d washed his hair he started on his body, soaping over his chest and stomach before he paid extra attention to his dick. The anticipation of just the possibility of seeing you had him hard in seconds, and resting his head back against the tiled wall he quickly worked his hand over himself. He got lost in the moment, his mind taking him to places it shouldn’t, imagining his hand was yours, thinking about that time he saw you wearing over the over the knee knit socks and a skirt, how your ass was the perfect roundness, how your lips would look stretched around his dick… he came with a groan, thick white ropes falling to the shower floor as every ounce of stress left his body, his body shuddering when he was finally spent.

 He was halfway through drying himself when he heard a knock at the door to his apartment, he eyes going wide when he saw it was 7.20pm;

 “Fuck!”

 He’d gotten carried away in the shower, and now he had to quickly rush to wrap a towel around his waist as a second knock came just as he reached the door, taking a deep breath before opening it and seeing you standing on the doorstep shivering in your padded coat, holding two takeout bags;

 “Hey! Come in, come in, Jeez its freezing out there…”

 Stepping into the apartment you couldn’t help but to look him up and down, attempting to hide your reaction as you could clearly see the distinct outline of something rather large bulging against the fabric of the fluffy white towel;

 “Hey D-d-detective… Y-y-yeah it’s d-d-dropping fast out t-t-there… radio s-s-said it was g-g-gonna be a wind chill of minus t-t-twenty nine by eight o’clock… what a n-n-night to have my b-b-bike, huh?” You carefully dropped the two bags onto his coffee table as you spoke.

 “You cycled here? On that pedal bike that is always chained up outside the coffee shop?” he asked incredulously, immediately forgetting his current state of undress. Shutting the door he immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest; “You’re gonna stay here until you’re warmed up, i’m gonna make you a hot coffee and to warm you up from the inside too...”

 “I ain’t gonna complain to that” you mumbled, your face pressed to his chest as you suddenly melted against him, warming your cheek against his firm muscles before turning your head to warm the other one and he let out a little gasp as your cold hands pressed against his sides.

 “I also said for you to call me Walter…” he said quietly.

 Pulling your head back you smiled at him;

 “Thank you, Walter. You’re the best… though you’re the first delivery i’ve made where i’ve been greeted by someone in just a towel”

 “Sorry, let me go put some clothes on…”

 You tighten your grip around his waist;

 “I wasn’t complaining…”

 There was no poignant pause, no longing gazes, his lips met with yours and the kiss was fierce and hungry. He was pushing your coat down your arms and you reluctantly released your hold from his waist to let it drop to the floor, your sweater following soon after. Your lips met again and he was lifting you, wrapping your legs around his waist as his hand rested on your ass beneath your skirt as he walked you through the apartment before dropping you on his bed.

 He was pulling your boots off your feet as you scrambled up the bed, your hands reaching for your thigh high socks when he suddenly caught your hands in his;

 “Leave those on…”

 You paused and grinned, before his lips met yours again and he was on top of you, his hands sliding up your skirt and bunching it around your waist as he pressed a trail of open mouthed kisses down the valley of your breasts and over your stomach, before briefly lifting his head enough to pull your panties down your legs and toss them aside.

 As he lowered his mouth to your core his gaze was intense, vivid blue shining through the dim light of his bedroom, his tongue pushing through your soaked petals and parting them as his beard brushed against your skin, heightening all of the sensations. Wrapping his arms around your thighs he pulled you closer to his mouth, his tongue pushing into you and he started to fuck you with it whilst his bearded face tickled your clit. You were squealing and struggling to stay still, needing to anchor yourself on something as your hips bucked and your orgasm started to rapidly approach, your hands finding their way to his still wet hair and your fingers wrapping around the dark curls as he pressed a hand to your stomach to keep you still, growling at your taste on his tongue as he felt you shake as your orgasm took over.

 When your body had finally stopped shaking Walter pressed a chaste kiss to the inside of each of your thighs before he sat back on his haunches, licking his lips where he could still taste you on them. Pushing yourself up onto your elbows you grinned at him, your gaze travelling down his thick chest to his stomach, and the trail of hair that led beneath the towel;

 “You gonna show me what you’ve got under that towel, Detective?”

 “You ready for what i’ve got under this towel darlin’?”

 Pushing yourself up to sitting, your legs spread and bent either side of him, you hooked a finger into the towel and tugged, your eyes going wide when you saw his thick meaty cock standing hard and proud between his muscled thighs. Wrapping your hands around it you relished the feel of his silky skin as it moved over the hardness beneath, your mouth against his;

 “I need you inside me”

 “I… Fuck… this wasn’t planned… i haven’t got any protection…”

 “I’m on birth control, I want to feel you bare…”

 With a growl he surged forwards, capturing your lips with his own before he pushed you down onto the bed. Holding himself up on one hand he hooked your leg up over his hip, opening you like a winter blossom as he rubbed his dick through your soaked folds, dousing himself with your slick wetness. You whined at the teasing, the way his tip would brush against your hole only to move up to your clit;

 “Walter, please… you promised to warm me up from the inside…”

 He paused, a smirk on his face;

 “You want me to get you a coffee? ‘Cos i can stop…”

 “NO, i need your diiiiiiiiii….FUCK!” He’d pushed into you as you were mid sentence, the feeling of his meaty girth splitting your walls wide open overwhelming you and your eyes rolled back in their sockets; “OH MY GOD!”

 “You like that Darlin? You feeling warmer now?”

 “Please… please fuck me…”

 He grinned and shifted his hips, grinding into you;

 “Well, as you said please…”

 You had been expecting him to pound you into the mattress, you had not been expecting for his technique to start off with sensual rolls of his hips, filling you tenderly and carefully whilst you got used to his size. It was almost overwhelming, completely surrounded as he caged you in with his massive arms, his chest pressed against your own as his hips worked utter magic. He pulled his legs wide apart, shifting to rest on your open hips and he got even deeper. Pressing kisses to your lips and neck he soon had you moaning and begging for release, every push and pull hitting just the right spots and you were almost embarrassingly wet from the arousal but it only added to the sensations.

 You could feel yourself coming, the pleasure too much to hold back, and with a long low moan your body betrayed you and succumbed to the orgasm that had been building in the pit of your belly. Walter kept up the same speed of his thrusts but pushed a little harder, a little deeper with each one;

 “Can feel you fluttering around me, you gonna cum for me? You look so fucking beautiful all fucked out and wanting, feel so fucking amazing…”

 Just as your orgasm was at its peak he tensed and you could feel his cum flooding into you, the twitching of his dick as he filled you with his seed prolonging your high. When you had both finally finished you could feel his weight start to get heavier on top of you, before with a sudden and surprising act of nimble dexterity he rolled the pair of you over so you were laying atop of him, his softening dick slipping out and you felt the trickle of his seed flow out of you. With one massive hand he pulled the duvet across your bodies, and you snuggled up to his chest;

 “That was the best tip ever” you giggled; “In fact definitely more than the tip”

 At that moment you not only heard but felt his stomach growl, looking up and seeing him grin sheepishly as he spoke;

 “I just want you to know this is not how i usually treat food deliveries… do you want something to eat? Or drink?”

 Nodding you smiled;

 “That'd be nice”

 -

 A while later you were cleaned up, Walter having given you one of his massive t-shirts to wear which came to the tops of your thighs. He’d grazed through half the contents of his order as you nibbled on a muffin, having eaten at the coffee shop during a very quiet last hour of your shift. You’d laughed and chatted as the pair of you had eaten on the comfort of Walters couch, before you’d suddenly stopped mid sentence;

 “Shit, i left my bike in the lobby… will it be safe there until i go home?”

 Walter smiled at you, his hand curling around your thigh;

 “Have you heard that weather out there? I’d be surprised if you could even ride it home through three foot of snow…” he paused for a moment; “Stay the night…”

 You went to object, decline politely but you caught yourself, why? Why shouldn’t you spend the night? Taking a deep breath you smiled;

 “I’d love to”

_____________________________________________

Part 2 >>>