#this one was not rushed before a shift at work

[wroteclassicaly]

Summary: A confession leads to unexpected heartbreak.

18+

Warnings: Language, smut, hurt/no comfort, one sided feelings, heartbreak, angst GALORE, self-esteem issues, mentions Steve’s past head trauma, insecurities on both sides, jealous Steve, mentions Nancy, best-friend!Reader w/ best-friend!Steve, and friends to lovers. This one hurts, folks!

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Word count: 3,985

A/N: No banner for this! Just some raw writing I did early into the hours of this morning/night, adding on some today. I wanted to try something different, so enjoy!

Note: Also posting this the day after I wrote it. Okay, lmaooooo.

“I love you, Steve.”

The words come easy to you, the courage taking years to build. But once they leave your mouth as you’re cradling his neck’s nape, playing with the chocolate curls that have grown out there, you cannot figure out why you wasted time not saying it. It’s been an ongoing thing between you two — a two year thing, in fact. Never any pushing for labels, no exclusivity. You were patient, he was giving, and you assumed you were both reading on the same page.

In a few minutes, however, you’d find out how very wrong that you were. You wished that your mouth and your legs had stayed closed around your best-friend, Steve Harrington.

It was a typical weekday, no dates planned, acting as if his last date hadn’t upset you, or that you enjoyed the one you forced yourself to go on with some guy, so that your feelings weren’t completely obvious. Sidenote: to mostly everyone but Steve, they kinda were. Steve had called you after your shift at the local Burger King, asking if you wanted to come over and spend the night. Not unusual. You always trade spending nights, rolling around on various surfaces, before enjoying breakfast together.

Intimate, casual, perfect.

Your answer was an automatic yes. A quick shower after work for you, a return phone call, and he’d gotten in his BMW, picked up some takeout, went to your door to get you, held your hand to the car, opened your damned door, and the dessert had been him between your thighs. This night in particular, it was one of pent up frustrations and desperations that had just one satiable cure. You ended up on top of Steve, his back pressed into the headboard, mutual clothes scattered all over his bed.

His shoulders became leverage, his massive palms spread out on either side of your waist, pinching the plush skin into his palming grip. Nose dusting across a defined nose bridge, caught in a cheekbone, with kisses rushed, deep, sloppily trying to stay focussed, but driven to reach that place buried inside one another.

Steve’s thighs provide a platform for you to sit upon, ankles locked around his back. He’s slippery with sweat, places you’d like to lick clean. You pull back from your cove to say it again, unable to stop yourself, going in for a kiss. You don’t think he heard, he’s humble sometimes, disbelieving in others. One hand cups his jaw, the other staying put to card through his hair, moisture pooling between your fingers.

“Hey? You still with me, big guy? I said I love you.” You’re smiling softly, thumbpad caressing his jawline. You feel it twitch, his shoulders tense.

Is he gonna cum? You know the signs. “Steve?” Something in your guts feels a little off. You ignore it.

“I know what you said. I heard you say it the first time.” He interrupts, tries to remain impassive, his hips slowing from your combined movements.

Like salt in the wound, a fresh slap to the face. No way.

“You heard me say that I love you?” You have to try one more time. He’s been hit in the head a lot, maybe he didn’t get it? He couldn’t have, right? Are you really this stupid, this dense?

You attempt to kiss him, to lay it all down through your actions, rather than your words this time, but your mouth doesn’t get the chance to meet him.

His lids flutter closed, he sighs, his face leaving yours, hands lifting off your body to wrap around your wrists, slowly untangling them from his neck. “Stop, alright?”

You feel your heart rate accelerate, your body tensing, your throat is choked with a teary panic, a bulldozer driving across your organs, settling atop you with its weight. Every single wall you still have built, they slowly shake off their cobwebs to rise from the dust, smothering you in the smoke. And he’s suddenly a very tight fit, to the point where you’re wincing, body immediately wanting, trying to push him out. He notices, one hand dropping to the side of your face. “Hey, hey. Hon —“ He stops himself, lets your nickname drop, falling back into your regular name.

He isn’t sure who that action hurts the most.

One look at your vacant expression and Steve feels as if he’s been sucker punched, that he’s the meanest version of himself he’s ever been.

He’s still inside of you, you let him into your body, you told him a sacred set of words. And this is what he’s doing to you? Hurting you to the point where your body starts to get frightened? But he couldn’t just come while you poured your heart out, he couldn’t continue like his world was normal anymore. He reaches down to wrap around his base, face wrinkling, teeth gritting. You’re so fucking tight that it hurts, his cock aches for you when he eases his way outward, dragging combined essences with him. “Let me just…” He starts, deep voice a rocky, rasp, finishing when his length is gone from your body, dripping with you onto his sheets, covering him.

Once he’s out, you’re already passed the point of overwhelming vulnerability. Your legs clamp closed, your hands cover your chest, unwillingly to wrap yourself in his damn sheet that smells like home to you. Steve is unsteady on his feet, halfway hard, but slowly softening at your nearly curled position. You aren’t looking at him, you won’t, you cannot. It’s not safe right now, because if you do, it’ll all come apart and it won’t stop. Steve is on overload in his own head, eyes sparkling, tears matted into his lash-line.

He has to breathe through his nose when he says it. It’s wrong, it’s so fucking wrong. But he’s helpless, he can’t take this environment, he wants to run from you, from your words.

“I’ll, uh. I’ll, uhm… I can take you home if you get dressed.”

He’s blinking away blurry vision as he catches your wounded, tear fogged expression the moment that he’s snatching his boxers and jeans off the bed, and making for the bedroom door. He shuts it and leaves you to re-cloth yourself in silence. It’s honestly deafening, you’re not sure how you manage. Revealing your body to his room, to his scent, pictures on his wall, various trinkets, but not him. You’re shaking as you put on piece by piece of fabric, dreading having to see him.

Your hand hovers over the door, giving several pauses before you open it. You step out onto the deep carpet, plush across your feet, mashed against your toes. He’s nowhere in sight. And you remember that he took his clothing, so he’s probably getting re-dressed.

Fuck this. It’s in your brain on broadway lights, body in flight mode. You’re heading down the staircase and snatching your shoes up by the entryway, forgetting your purse in his room. You don’t care anymore, you have to get out of here, this place closing in on you like a funhouse. You shut the door as quietly as you can, then you’re sprinting down the Harrington’s driveway.

Is it dramatic? Yeah. Oh-fucking-well, you’re running on adrenaline so your body doesn’t feel the disgusting agony that’s slowly eating its way through your insides. You get about halfway and you hear footsteps approaching at high rates, your name being chanted. Steve is at your side in seconds, breathless.

“Shit, you scared me. Why the hell did you leave like that?”

Your eyes widen to give him an incredulous look, and that’s when the tears escape, rolling down your cheeks. Steve sees your disheveled state next. No purse, no shoes. Your blouse is halfway hanging off your shoulder. It’s an automatic instinct, his fingers brushing underneath the fabric, dragging across your skin as he pulls up to secure it.

You want to flinch away, but you don’t. Hurt settles in his brows. He’s fucking incredible with that question. “You aren’t wearing your shoes. You can’t leave my house like this.”

Autopilot flies in to protect you, leveling off everything else that you could say or do. There’s no anger, there’s no sorrow, there’s nothing. And that’s what scares him the most when you say, “I just wanna go home.”

He can’t stand it anymore, his natural urge to protect your safety, has him wrapping you in his arms. You still smell like his bed, like him, like love making left unfinished. Your arms remain clutched to your chest. No reaction.

He says it out loud, unknowing if he means it to you or just to himself. “We should’ve never started having sex.”

A mistake. You’re his mistake. Not his biggest. Not even a real regret.

Steve Harrington has only ever loved one girl. He’s only ever regretted one loss. He even cared more for Robin before he even went to you. Are you even pretty enough, or does he just like you because you’re friends and he’s horny, or searching for something? You’re not it, not even a morsel.

And it doesn’t matter what you say, what you do, how you feel. You’ll be stuck with that, while Steve clings to whatever he truly wants. Now you’ve lost what you’ve built with him, destroyed his safe place by becoming a cliche. He doesn’t deserve your one sided feelings.

The wheels are spinning in your head, but Steve still sees nothing in your responses, nor your reception. So he lifts his keys from his pocket to respect your wishes, his chest on fire with an acidic inferno, his head clouded with pain far worse than anything he’s ever experienced, his skull echoing with what his brain has just endured. You walk to his car without sparing a glance, feet still bare. He swallows and it just feels like piles of broken glass. He can do nothing but do what you asked of him.

He drives you to your house in silence. Steve Harrington has been sure of one thing in two years, and that’s always been you. But as he pulls up to your house, you’re climbing from his car before he can put it in park, your voice hauntingly, desperately hollow. “I’m sorry I ruined everything.”

And you leave him, the levee going to break once you’re through your front door, pain in between your legs to remind you the next morning before your mind does. His nose crinkles, his fingers pinching, a thin line of snot trailing out. Steve wants to say to you that it’s him who has ruined it all. That he’s so scared of those words, that he doesn’t understand how someone could love him, so he can’t let your words sink in, can’t consciously reciprocate. A coward who won’t let himself feel your declaration.

Steve Harrington’s brain, however, knows the truth.

~*~

Waking up the next morning had been a reality that neither you, nor Steve were prepared to handle. You pretty much cried yourself to sleep, whilst Steve held onto your purse and paced his floor until his feet verged on rug burn, tears blurring his vision. When he finally did lay down, his alarm went off two hours later. He woke to your scent all over his bed, still covering him, lingering even as he showered, especially in his car on the way to the store. The same car that things have happened in, and the very one that he dumped you off like trash last night, after what you’d gone through to tell him the extent of your feelings. He wasn’t functioning on a full level from the second he pulled into the parking lot.

~*~

You could still feel him, your body sore, brain picking up seconds after you opened your eyes, toes hitting the blush rug underneath your bed. Your sclera was bloodshot, burning, clouding over as you passed by pictures of you with Steve, and quite a few you’d taken of him solo, that you had on the corkboard above your desk. You’d deal with taking everything down later, unsure what you would be doing with the items. Forgoing breakfast was a given, your stomach in knots. Showering went painfully fast, leading you right into putting on your work uniform.

You barely made it three hours into your shift, headache, heartache going head to head, and your boss had noticed your discomfort, gently releasing you for the day. Only one person made everything better, but that was no longer an option. Your confession sets you free, backfiring what type of freedom you wanted to occur. It was eleven o’clock when you dock yourself into Family Video’s parking lot, relieved Steve was on his normal lunch hour. Even if you can spend time with Robin, it will help.

You can hurry, you don’t have to see his face.

Fate has other plans.

You’re helping Robin unpack some candy shipments when his car pulls in about half an hour early. She could tell you weren’t feeling your best, so that’s why she’d assumed you didn’t want a male presence around. You’re honestly shocked she hasn’t clocked Steve as the mystery man she’s known about the past two years.

“Don’t worry,” she says, upon seeing your soured, slightly fearful expression. “It’s just our doofus. He’s been in a brooding mood today, probably why he’s back early.”

A mood? So you have ruined it all.

You nod, forcing yourself to stay put, immediately gaining on deep breathing. At least you don’t shake when you begin to alphabetize the candy. You can hear her greet Steve before he even gets a word in. She snatches some kind of paper bag, that you assume he brought back for her — away, rifling through its contents as she speaks.

“Dingus, you still have that bottle of Tylenol in your car?”

Steve’s heart is in his throat, wrapping him tighter than Vecna’s hive minds did. He gives a silent yes, head trying to lean around a few shelves. Fuck. Of course that was your car out front, he wasn’t just imagining shit. He’s hopeful, anxious. What are you here for? Who?

“Good. Can you go get it, please? She doesn’t feel good and she’s been helping me all morning.”

Immediate worry doesn’t cover it. You’re here and not at work, and you’re sick? Steve snaps out of what trance he’s in, eyes pinching closed and he nods rapidly. “Shit, yeah. I’ll go get it. Here, Robs. Can you take my water to her?” He hands off his half drank bottle without question, moving back outside to get the medicine.

It’s funny, the look on your face as Robin presents you with his drink. You all share off of one another all the time. She places the food bag beside her, to which you politely decline her offer for some. Doesn’t matter if you haven’t eaten, you can’t.

“I know he has cooties, but I think we’re safe.” She shoulder bumps you, trying to get a smile. When you barely lift your mouth, she goes into her version of mom mode. It dawns on her and it comes from her mouth without tact.

“Wait, is this about that mystery guy who took your virginity? The one you’ve been seeing for two years? Holy shit, did he finally commit?”

If Robin couldn’t tell how you felt about Steve, or see anything from his part, then you guess it’s true.

There’s nothing to see.

You can feel your rib cage gape open, heart falling into your ass, strangled by your intestines.

Luckily, Steve has perfect timing, appearing right in earshot as Robin reveals information you never told him. The room feels small, you feel as if you could melt into the floor, non-existent. Would it matter? You are starting to think love controls everything, after all. You’re fucking doomed.

He lets his Nikes carry him forward, bottle of Tylenol in his massive hand. He’s starting to tremble, betrayal etched into his mouth, giving away what Robin now feels stupid for not knowing. It all clicks when your moods are matched, your mixed reactions combining.

“Oh. Oh, holy fuck. I’m…” She looks at her best-friend, who is halfway seething to near sobbing, and at you, who cannot look her in the eyes. “Shit, I should’ve known. Why didn’t I know? Fuck. I’ll give you two a minute —“

“Steve?” Your voice is tinged with something, one that has him slightly elated that you’re vocal, and even more pissed at you. He waits, his tongue caught in his throat, about to ask you, but you’re adding on. “May I have two Tylenols please?” Standing on your feet right after.

He’s like a fucking statue, on autopilot, unmoving this time. Robin rises, plucks the bottle gently, shaking out two and drops them into your hand, handing the container back to Steve, ultimately giving his water to you. She mouths an apology, but you’re smiling a tacky, forced grin that looks as if it’s pinching your lips. She’s bound to be upset you both neglected to tell her. Keeping your mouth shut should’ve been the reverse way.

“I’ll call you tonight, Robs. I’m sorry, okay?”

“Hey.” She stops you before you can step back to leave, wrapping her arms around you, maroon coated lips by your ear. “I don’t have a foot fetish, but I really should’ve kept the entirety of my own in there to avoid this.”

That gets you laughing softly, and you don’t look at Steve as you depart from her arms and for your car. He’s still frozen.

Robin does, though, stares right through him. She can see how much he’s hurting. She doesn’t want to judge either side, so she simply reaches up to rub along between his shoulder blades. “If you need to —“

“I’ll be right back.” His eyes are trained on your retreating form, handing her the pills as he follows you.

“That works too!” She points a finger in his direction, sighing. Is everyone else onto this, or is she just off her game?

~*~

You’ve just barely downed the pills, tasting Steve’s cinnamon breath spray, combined with his morning coffee all around the lid of his water. You chug it fast, your back still turned to the front door. That’s when the dumbass little bell rings, slapping back against the door, and his voice comes into play.

“You can taste my mouth on that, right?”

You remain non-verbal. This angers him to the point he steps close enough that you can smell his cologne and aftershave. His tone shatters, emotion bleeding through. “Because friends share things with one another.”

“Well, friends sure as hell don’t fuck!” It snaps free of your mouth, shocking the both of you, plastic crinkling in your hands. Your head is hurting, between your thighs is aching, and you’re positive that a piece of your chest has been carved out.

He’ll always have that, whether he wants it or not.

“They don’t lie about being a virgin, either! They don’t say that it’s been a while when they’re in pain and I’m fucking asking what’s wrong the first time that we have sex! If I would have known, then it would’ve been—”

“Wouldn’t have happened, so I didn’t build some little attachment to you, right?”

Steve visibly recoils.

“Is that really what you thought of me? That I was still that big of an asshole? Because we were already pretty attached. I did everything with you, you practically lived at my house.”

“If you didn’t have a date. Maybe it was just sex, me and you. Still doesn’t answer if you found me attractive. Probably just biased because you were my friend.” Word vomit. Too late to stop now.

Steve mulls over the meaning of were. Past tense? Does it apply to current?

His hands go onto his hips, a sidestep, and he turns back to look at you in astonishment, having to swipe aggressively at the wetness in his eyes. He doesn’t even know where to begin with everything you just said. His brain is screaming to tell you that no, he’s always found you fucking beautiful. That he would have preferred you over all of those dates, or any that he’s ever had for that matter. But he’s so confused about letting anything in, his tongue becomes tied, only able to get out one lame question. “Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”

When your gaze flickers up, you see he’s snarling, but there’s tears clouding his vision. You’re a little lighter in how you speak to him, dismantling your armor. “Because I didn’t want you to think I was a loser, I didn’t want our first time to be about that, I didn’t think you would want to… I didn’t mean to — I’m sorry, Steve.”

He marvels. You really thought that? Did he not express his care for you?

“I would’ve made it better for you. Fuck, were you even okay after it happened?”

His moral compass is extraordinary nowadays, and it does make you hesitant, but you let your fingers cup his cheek. “It was the best. You were the best. I wanted it to happen with you. And it’s something that I would never take back.”

Your teeth start to chatter, your own tears forming. You want to console further, to wipe away his. But you start to let your hand slip. Steve catches it, holding your fingers in his palm, wrapping his digits around to lace. His deep voice drags along each syllable, crooked and wet with emotion. “Please let me hold you before you leave?”

And god, do you want to. You’ve never needed anything more. But if you let him… You just refuse to put yourself into that place right now. You shake your head, replacing your hand with his water bottle. His tongue pokes at his cheek, he shakes his head, attempting to argue. He closes his fist around the plastic.

“I meant what I said last night. And I realize that I ruined everything, Steve.” He can’t speak, why isn’t he able to disagree, why is it like he’s drowning, running in slow motion?

“I just don’t know if it can be repaired.” By the time you slide into your car, hand over your face, arm propped to your steering wheel, body heavy into your seat, Steve finds himself worked up to the point that he can’t bear to be around you, he can’t watch this, his figure pivoting, and he returns straight into the store, booking it to the break room.

~*~

After you’ve cried for what feels like forever, embarrassing yourself, light headed with guilt, you don’t end up driving yourself home, unable to do it in this state. You make your way to a pay phone to call Nancy. How fucking ironic. What’s worse, is that she can’t make it, you find out, as Jonathan Byers pulls up in her station wagon, letting you know that she’s sorry, but she got a call back to her job. You assure him it’s fine, grateful another friend is here, at least, joining him.

He doesn’t press you. But he knows. He’s one of them that pegged it from the start, he and Nance both.

“You okay?” Is his gruff question.

“Yeah, I just have to go home.”

He says nothing else. But what neither of you see, is Steve Harrington, as he’s just getting to the doorway, regretting his decision to not go back once he realized you didn’t leave, unable to stand you being that upset and not trying to do something (if he could) — watching the affection Jonathan Byers extends your way, and your rejection of any reluctance to accept it. His amber eyes are smoldering, his fist clenched, every muscle rigid, heart rate firing off rapid shots.

“Steve…” Robin tries, folding in beside him, seeing his dismissal of logic, his brain switching, latching onto primal panic. “You’re at work, remember? Video tapes, acne covered boss?”

But he’s throwing off his vest in response and striding towards his car, ignoring her pleas.

[cinaerii]

LOVEFOOL, a series — nsh. riki x fem!reader

— gamenight date!

✧ syn : in which, you date the most nonchalant boy in your school, yet he’s the opposite with you.

✧ cws & notes : non-idol au! established rls. with riki, typos, grammatical errors, kisses | my humor is not that funny

today was a club day, meaning there is no one running, distinct chatters from students, pulling pranks on one another in the hallway. it was quiet and empty.

everyone is expected to be in their respective club venues, working on projects or practicing for an upcoming competition.

though by the time the bell rang, giving a few seconds to spare before each door of the classrooms burst open with students having their backpacks slung on their shoulder, running out.

it felt like rush hour in the hallways. it was quite the struggle for some people to wait for their friends outside of their venue due to the pushing crowd in front of them.

at least you and your friends avoided the crowd of students, blocking the way.

“guess who was leading our dance practice today..” your friend spoke in a disappointed tone, both of her hands covering her face.

you eagerly shift your attention right away. “the most nonchalant guy i’ve ever met! i was dying of boredom just from his voice.” your friend started to ramble.

“riki?” you mention casually, tucking your hands inside the two empty pockets on your cardigan.

“you sound like you know him, do you?” she asked, a glint of curiosity behind her eyes.

“he’s just a classmate.” well you had to lie for yours and riki’s sake since the two of you decided to keep this relationship private to everyone.

speaking of your boyfriend, you have a scheduled indoor date at his apartment.

###

less than ten steps away from you was riki’s door to his apartment. you knocked once and was about to tap the grayish steel door until someone pulled you inside.

you were greeted with your very tall boyfriend giving you a warm embrace by wrapping his arms around your figure.

your face was buried in his plain and knitted sweater vest yet somewhat cozy. “i bought new games for our nintendo switch.” he tilted his head down to look at you, his eyes glimmering with excitement.

when you were still getting to know riki, he’d always pull out his switch out of the blue and play games freely.

however, by the time you started dating him, he constantly referred his switch as yours and his to share and have date nights at his apartment space.

“comfy?” riki whispered, his hot breath fanning over the side of your neck as he snuggled closer to you.

“mhm, let’s play!” you exclaimed, pressing one of the buttons on your controller to start. “aren’t you forgetting something?” riki spoke quietly.

“after this round, okay? my lips are too cold right now, i’ll warm them up first.” even if the heater was on, it was still freezing cold so you slump under the blankets more.

hearing no response from riki, you took that a yes from him and adjusted the game settings on the screen.

“how many minut—“ you were about to ask him but you were cut off by two pecks on the lips. both of them were so quick for you to process it in your head.

he then blew the top of your lips to hide the huge grin on his face in which he failed to supress his small giggles coming from his lips.

“is it warm enough yet?” riki teased.

“i have a good feeling that i’ll win this race tonight. thank you very much for giving your luck to me.” you returned with a smile on your face, indicating a bit of sarcasm.

“nevermind, take back my kiss right now.” he leaned closer, a push from the back would be enough to close the gap between the two.

“nuh-uh! this is a priced fortune coming from you.” your hands went in the middle of both of your faces, protecting your lips from his.

from supposedly having a game night to having an intense tickle fight.

— end. thank you for reading!

written by; @cinaerri ⋆ do not steal, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[kirrrnz]

CAN’T GET OVER YOU !!

word count: 711

18+ content MDNI!! — fem!reader, reader called “baby” and “doll”, smut!!!!! with a bit of fluff, nanami x reader, not proofread :< might edit l8rrr ! enjoy ^_^

it wasn’t like nanami to express his emotions when shit happened to him.

but when you just got up and left him because he prioritized his work over you, he couldn’t help finding himself drowning in overdue papers and lying sleepless in bed for hours on end.

nanami couldn’t stop replaying the moment in his head, the way you yelled at him for not comprehending and how he just stared at you like you were spewing nonsense he couldn’t understand.

he regrets it. he regrets letting you walk out the door. he regrets not calling you for the past few weeks.

how did it take him this long to realize he needs you?

with that, he was gripping on the steering wheel, jaw clenched to hold himself from going way over the speed limit in the pouring rain.

he was rushing into your apartment building, soaking up the lobby.

nanami couldn’t even recall how quick he ran out the elevator once it reached your floor. he wasn’t necessarily out of breath, but his breathing was staggered.

he knocked, stood there with his body soaked from the rain, white shirt sticking to his skin. you opened the door, a puzzled look on your race because you weren’t expecting company.

you were wearing a t-shirt that was much too big for you and no pants, just a lacy, mesh pair of panties.

“kento? what’re you doing here? it’s like 10 o’clock.” you say once you’d connected the body to the face, you were shocked to see him, genuinely you thought he didn’t really care about you.

but here he was, soaked and dripping at your front door.

he just looked at you, his stoned expression quickly shifting to a soft, pleading one.

“i- i just needed to see you. baby, let me in. let me explain myself.” he was pleading, he didn’t care how desperate he looked or sounded.

he needed you back.

and his wish came true. barely 10 minutes after you two “talked it out”, he had you bent over your sofa, legs spread and face burrowed into one of the cushions.

your pussy was swallowing every inch with so much vice, and he made sure you knew that. made sure you knew how tight and good your insides felt.

how much he missed them.

he didn’t have to tell you much honestly, he was behind you grunting and huffing with every thrust. he was deep in there, the cushion was soaked with your tears, maybe even some drool.

you could hardly think with how harsh he was fucking you. you lift your head up and babble out some incoherent words. he laughs.

nanami lowered himself to bite against your ear lobe, his hands gathering themselves on your ass. “i’m sorry for being an asshole, doll.” he groaned into your ear in a breathless whisper, hands gripping the flesh on your cheeks as he hurried up his thrusts; leaving you absentmindedly moaning louder into the space of your apartment.

he couldn’t help the smile that tugged his lips at how he had you. he stood back up straight and grabbed your hair, crashing his hips with all his power when he felt how tight your pussy was squeezing him.

you stayed there and took it, grabbing the top of the couch. the state you were in was so embarrassing: mouth wide open, hair sticking to the drool on your face, eyes shut, and tears marks staining your cheeks.

when he pulled out then forced himself entirely in you, you screamed. finishing all over his shaft and leaving a ring around the base that he loved to see.

one thing about nanami kento, was that after care was never a problem. he carried you to your bed, cleaning you up gently with a rag. even putting a fresh pair of panties on you.

he debated staying. nanami stared at you as you started to fall asleep. at least he thought you were. but as he was heading towards the door of your bedroom, you spoke softly to him.

“you better not be leaving, kento.” and it made his heart flutter in a way he never felt before.

he was determined to not fuck up this time. it just felt so good to him that you were his.

[joelalorian]

Blown Away

Dave York x f!reader | WC: 3200+ | Masterlist

Summary: How were you to know that Dave York blowing you a kiss in a quaint coffee shop one morning would change your life?

My contribution to @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge - I was given the above banner and the prompts blowing kisses and Dave York. This is my first time writing Dave, so hopefully it reads well.

No warnings for this one - it's pretty tame with some humor, fluff, and a teensy bit of angst. No use of y/n. Reader is pretty much a blank slate with hair.

“Come on, girls.” A handsome man in a deep blue business suit directed two adorable young girls with dark eyes and hair much like his own to a small table next to yours. “We don’t have much time before your mom gets here.”

“Ok, Daddy,” the older girl replied in a soft, sweet voice before sitting and digging into her pastry. The younger girl quickly followed her sister’s lead and the man sat back in his chair, sipping at a large coffee as he glanced around the room.

Your eyes met briefly; a flash of interest visible in his gaze before one of the girls drew his attention again.

The coffee shop – your usual haunt for easing into the day – bustled with activity in the morning rush before school and work. You sat at a corner table, your back against the wall, people watching as you sketched the scene before you. A father and two daughters eating a rushed breakfast. You wondered what their story was…

A pretty, dark-haired woman approached their table, a soft smile playing at her lips as she greeted the girls. Her expression quick to shift to one of displeasure at the lingering evidence of their breakfast. “Really, Dave?”

The man – Dave, apparently – released a long-suffering sigh. “A pastry is a perfectly acceptable breakfast item, Carol. That’s why they serve them here.” The man gestured around the shop, noting the number of tables with a pastry, including your own. He winked at you when he caught you watching.

“Whatever you say. You’d let them eat hamburgers for breakfast if you found a place that served them this early,” Carol retorted.

Enraptured, you added the woman to your sketch, perfectly depicting the scowl on her face.

“Jesus Christ, Carol,” Dave hissed, a hand swiping across his forehead in frustration. “You’re the one who picked this place as the exchange point. Am I to just bring them here and deny them anything while we sit and wait for you?”

“Girls let’s go. Say bye to Dad.” She stepped back, closer to your table, to let the girls say goodbye to their dad, completely ignoring his question.

Kissing each of them on the forehead, he hugged them tight. “I’ll see you in a couple weeks, alright? Be good.”

After directing the girls to walk ahead of her, Carol leant over the table to give Dave once last parting shot. “This is part of why we got divorced. There’s no reasoning with you.”

Darkness spread over his expression, lips thinning to a mere slash across face. Voice low and lethal, Dave spat, “No, dear, we got divorced because I caught you fucking someone else in our bed. Let’s not rewrite the narrative to suit your needs.”

You watched, with the fascination of someone driving past a train wreck, as the woman smacked a hand against the table and stormed off with the children. Dave sat at the table, tapping the corner of his phone against his lips. Your gaze drawn to his plump bottom lip by the action, you didn’t realize he stared right back at you.

The buzzing of his phone snapped you out of the trance, heat flooded your face when he cheekily blew you a kiss before he answered with a clipped, “York.”

He was gone before your brain could formulate a reaction.

The mysterious man plagued your thoughts. Inspired by his cheekiness, you developed a quirky habit of blowing a kiss to each of your sketches as you finished them.

Sitting, once again, at a corner table in the quaint coffee shop downtown, you sketched away the morning hours. Page after page became full of haunting dark eyes and pouty lips as you tried to get them just right. Finally satisfied with the shade and shape of the eyes, you pressed three fingers to your lips. Movement across from you caught your attention as you moved your hand, inadvertently blowing a kiss towards the person at the next table instead of your sketch.

You froze, watching wide eyed as the subject of your sketches caught the imaginary kiss with a smirk, pretending to tuck it into the pocket of his suit jacket. A shy, soft smile spread across your face at the silliness of it all.

His phone buzzed on the table, expression darkening as he answered. He held eye contact with you when he stood, barking a clipped greeting into the phone. Before turning to leave, he blew another kiss at you, winking cheekily at your reaction.

The pattern continued over the next few days – you sketched away, Dave watching from a nearby table as your brow furrowed in concentration until you finally looked up and noticed him. His lips always quirked up at the corners when your eyes met.

On the fourth day, the pattern changed.

“Hey, mind if I sit here?”

Your head popped up in surprise. The coffee shop busier than usual, the man stood next to your table. Drinking in his features now that he was so close, your mouth dropped open in utter fascination. You thought him handsome before, but up close like that he was downright gorgeous. Smooth, slightly tanned skin, broad shoulders, slim hips, lips that just begged to be kissed and nibbled…

Mentally shaking yourself, you nodded and quickly shuffled your stuff to the side to make room. “Of course.”

Silence settled over the table as the two of you stared at each other. His burnt umber eyes roamed your face just as yours did the same, cataloging each other’s features.

At last, his eyes dipped down to your sketchbook. “I couldn’t help but notice you sketching here every morning. Your work looks amazing from afar.”

Fighting the urge to snap the sketchbook shut – a sketch of the very man standing before you stared up from the current page – you murmured a bashful “Thanks.”

With a chuckle, Dave sunk into the chair across from you and placed his phone face down on the table. He sipped at his coffee before sharing, “I’m Dave by the way.”

“I know,” you replied, cringing once you realized how that sounded. Clearing your throat, you silently berated yourself for being so awkward before offering Dave your name.

Thick fingers brushed across his forehead – a tell, you began to think – and sighed. “Ah, you caught that little scene with my ex-wife the other day.” It wasn’t a question. “Sorry about that. Going through a divorce has been… challenging.”

“I can imagine,” you offered with an understanding nod. “I’ve never experienced it myself, thankfully.”

“Lucky you,” Dave replied, deadpan. Leaning forward, he gazed down at your sketchbook. “What are you working on today?”

Hesitating only a moment, you flip the sketchbook around and let Dave see the charcoal drawing of his own face. “Just capturing moments and people who catch my eye,” you admitted.

Those dark eyes nearly twinkled with mirth as he traced a fingertip along the curve of the 2-dimensional version of himself. “Extraordinary,” he murmured. He flipped through the book, stopping occasionally to admire something before moving on. Your skin itched with the urge to yank the book out of his hands, but you refrained.

“These are incredible. Do you ever sell your work?”

You met Dave’s intense gaze for a few moments before glancing away, embarrassed. “No, never. This is more of a hobby than anything, though I do work in a gallery. I just like to keep my creativity flowing.”

Shifting the sketchbook back towards you, he sat back in his chair and sipped at his coffee. “Shame. You have real talent. Do you work at the gallery on 5th?”

“Thanks,” you chirped. “Yeah, that’s the one. Have you been there?”

Dave shook his head sadly. “Not yet, but I pass by it all the time. It’s near my office. I should pop in sometime.”

“Really? What do you do?”

“I work for the government,” Dave hedged, a frown marring his handsome face when his phone buzzed. “Speak of the devil, I have to go. Let’s do this again.” He blew you a kiss before turning for the door, leaving you a little bewildered by the entire interaction.

Over the next week, you and Dave met, unplanned, at the coffee shop daily. Even on the weekends, he would pop in after an early run through the park to find you at the same corner table. You would talk for hours before one or the other of you had to leave for work or some other obligation.

He shared more about himself than you expected, claiming you were easy to talk to. You learned that he and his ex-wife, Carol, were high school sweethearts but the relationship struggled while he was away in the military, and following a few years of happiness, turned sour as they both changed from the kids they once were. Though he only shared sparse details of his time overseas, you concluded that he had been on one of those clandestine teams or something with how cagey he was about it.

“I wish I could have seen you in uniform,” you blurted afterwards, cheeks heating with a combination of embarrassment and desire. “I bet you looked hot.”

It was the first time you saw Dave blush. It was a good look on him.

You learned that he put his military training to use working for the DIA and traveled often on missions and undercover operations. He was cagey about the details, but that was to be expected, right?

You shared things about yourself during these chats as well – your unfortunate dating history, where you grew up, how you fell into the arts. Dave was equally easy to talk to and you found yourself spilling so many details about yourself.

Just when it felt like you might run out of things to talk about, Dave switched it up.

“What’s your favorite color?” he asked, his expression intent, like he just had to know the answer, yet his eyes were soft and wide, drawing you in.

“Blue. What’s yours?”

“Same. Favorite season?”

“Fall, you?”

“Really?” Dave questioned with a quirked brow, not expecting that answer. “I would have pegged you for a spring girl. Mine is fall as well.”

“There’s just something about the colors before everything turns grey for winter,” you explained, tender smile crossing your lips. “I used to love raking up the leaves as they fell from the trees and jumping into huge piles of them as a kid.”

It continued like this for weeks, meeting and chatting away the early morning hours. On exchange days, Dave would have the girls with him, and you got to spend some time with sweet Alice and Molly, getting to know them a little and see how Dave acted as a father. The tenderness and love he showed the girls left you in awe and you found yourself daydreaming about family life with him.

It took over a month and a half for Dave to ask for your number. His hesitancy at odds with the borderline cockiness with which he usually carried himself. You found it completely endearing.

“You know, I’ve really enjoyed our mornings here,” he admitted, fingers tapping against the table in a nervous tick as his dark chocolate eyes seared you. “It’s become the best part of my day.”

Grinning warmly, your head tilted as affection overwhelmed you. “Me too, Dave. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. You’re an amazing man.”

That gorgeous blush tinged his cheeks again while his pouty lips quirked up in a lop-sided smile. “I was thinking maybe we could continue these conversations outside the café sometime. Could I have your number?”

Heart beating heavily in your chest, you nodded. “Of course. I would love that.”

You barely exchanged numbers when his phone vibrated in a series of urgent buzzes. “And that’s my cue. I’ll text you later, sweetheart.” Dave stood, lingering at the table for a moment to gaze at you in wonder. In a move that was quickly becoming a signature between you both, he blew you a kiss before stalking out of the coffee shop.

Hours spent working in the gallery, speaking to pretentious wealthy people about works of art they knew nothing about, your mind wandered to thoughts of Dave. From the moment you first encountered the dangerously attractive man, you had been consumed by him. Your sketchbook full of his likeness, you still sketched more of him every chance you could, seeking to get each feature just right.

Dave texted you that evening. Curled up on the couch with a glass of pinot noir and a book, you smiled down at the notification. Reaching for the phone, you chortled at the message.

Dave: I was thinking about our conversations and realized they’re like my coffee – impossible to start the day without.

Getting to know this man was like peeling an onion. He had layers you never expected, leaving you excited to reach the next one. Before you could respond, another text came through.

Dave: I bet ending it with you would be even better. How about dinner tomorrow?

You quickly typed out a response, agreeing to meet at the waterfront at 7pm the following evening. A date. Dave finally asked you on a date. Butterflies fluttered in your belly as you texted back and forth the rest of the evening.

Two weeks and two dinner dates later, you were falling hard for Dave York. That’s why it hurt so much when he disappeared without a word, standing you up for your third date. The blow was especially heartbreaking as you already decided the third date would be when you gave your whole self over to the devilishly handsome man.

Your texts went unanswered for two days. You even broke down and called him a few times, something the two of you rarely did, each one going directly to voicemail. Unsure what to say and fearing you’d breakdown, you never left a message.

What could you have done wrong that deserved being ghosted? You wracked your brain, combing over every single interaction, and came up empty. As far as you could tell, everything had been going great. Yet, here you stood, all evidence to the contrary and a couple months of your life wasted. God, it hurt.

The coffee shop felt tainted now and you almost didn’t go on the following morning, ready to break your routine over the rejection. You couldn’t give in to the despair, though. You were a stronger woman than that. So, you found yourself entering the shop not long after they opened, ordering a latte and an indulgent sweet treat as the sun barely broke the horizon. A slip of paper caught your attention as you settled the items on your usual corner table.

Your name written across the center of the paper in a neat script, your fingers traced over the letters, heart pounding. Flipping the paper over, your eyes raked over the image depicted. A crudely drawn face – Dave’s face, you knew at once, even with the artist’s lack of finesse and skill – blowing a kiss at you. The words ‘Forgive me, please’ written beneath the sketch followed by coordinates.

Body slumping into the seat, you stared at the paper, mind whirling. Did Dave leave you a note? Did you just miss him? What in the world was he up to? Glancing around for a glimpse of him, you dug your phone from your pocket, frantically typing in the coordinates into the map app. You watched, wide-eyed, as the map zoomed in on the location… the gallery where you worked?

It had to be Dave doing this, right? Not just someone messing with your emotions, your hopes. It couldn’t be, that would leave you shattered beyond repair.

Latte and pastry forgotten on the table, you snatched up the sketchbook and fled the café. Feet pounding on the concrete sidewalk, you hurried the few blocks to the gallery. Still too early in the day, you knew it would be closed and your mind struggled with what you might find waiting for you.

Turning the final corner, your body slowed of its own accord as you approached the large glass windows displaying various works of art. Breathless, your eyes scanned the area, searching for some kind of clue. Frantic that you might be missing something, your eyes finally landed on a slip of paper taped to the front door, your name written in that same neat script.

Fingers trembled as you plucked the paper from the door and unfolded it to find another rough sketch of Dave’s face blowing you a kiss, another set of coordinates printed below it.

Your eyes darted around, searching for Dave or some other indication of what the hell was going on, but found nothing. Only a handful of strangers were around, urgently going about their business. With a heavy sigh, you entered the new coordinates into the map app and waited for the new location marker.

The waterfront. The exact same spot where you and Dave met for your first date.

Your feet carried you the distance, thoughts spiraling the while you made your way across several city blocks. A few times, your steps slowed as you considered turning around, going home, and forgetting about anything and everything to do with Dave. Something stopped you each time and hope finally blossomed into full bloom deep in your heart when your gaze caught sight of Dave.

Standing alone, leant against a light post with the brilliant colors of the sunrise cascading across the river behind him, his lips quirked upwards hesitantly when his eyes settled on you. Searching your face, he blew you a kiss.

“Dave.” Your voice cracked and the wind carried his name like a plea across the quickly closing distance between you.

“Sweetheart,” Dave replied, feet carrying him toward you in a rush. “I’m so sorry. I was called away last minute on a mission and couldn’t take my phone. I never meant to miss our date, to ghost you.” Gentle fingers brushed away the tears slipping from your eyes.

“I – I thought…” The words strangled in your throat while emotion overwhelmed you.

Pulling you close, Dave hummed in your ear. “I know. I know what you must have thought. It won’t happen again, I promise. I quit. I quit it all, the DIA, the… well, everything.”

Confused by what he meant by ‘everything’; your eyes searched his dark ones for answers. He responded by kissing you, drawing a gasp from you when your lips pressed together. Lips soft and pliable, he tasted of coffee and promises as you gave into the deepening kiss until you could no longer breathe.

After an eternity, Dave eased back, holding your gaze as his fingers combed through your hair, gripped your jaw. “I’ve already fallen for you, but there are some things about my job, about me, that I need to tell you, so you’ll understand why I quit. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us.”

“You can tell me anything, Dave. I'm already in love with you. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it. I just want to be with you.”

He kissed you again, deeply and with a hint of the fire burning beneath his skin. You let him lead you back to his place, the journey a symbol of the new life awaiting the both of you.

[aziraphales-library]

hi, i wonder if you have recs for fanfics written after the release of season 2 which are set in the time between s1 and s2? thank youu

Hello. Here are some fics set between series one and series two...

To the World by mehrto, SkysongMA (G)

"Really, Crowley, it's bad enough having everything replaced without you moving things. Don't tell me you're still tired after that nap you took." "After the events of the last eleven years, I believe I will be tired for the rest of the century." Crowley's voice turned uninterested, but he shifted his weight in the chair in a way that had nothing to do with the angle of the sun and everything to do with the topic. Aziraphale studied him. Crowley was still relaxed, ready, as ever, to slip into a nap wherever he was, but something was off, exactly like the arrangement of the bookstore. It was no fun to complain if Crowley wasn't immediately rushing to fix everything, even as he pretended he wasn't. Aziraphale drummed his fingers on the box, then clucked. "Well, if you're still tired, let me freshen up the spare bedroom. I ought to see if anything's changed there anyway."

Conversation on a park bench by CatelynStark956 (G)

Aziraphale is sitting in the park, reading and watching all the humans that pass by. Crowley suddenly joins him, furthering his musings on this and that until they’re interrupted by a gentleman who seems to have got the wrong impression

i come home, she lifted up her wings by junoshusband (G)

Oh, he could remember. Before everything, when angels groomed each other's wings in Heaven. Even after Heaven and Hell split into different factions and started their bickering, some of them would bask in the Earth's young sun as it fell between Eden’s verdant leaves and preen. But Gabriel usually chased them off, telling them they had work to do and that they didn't have eternity anymore. Whilst writing his account of the Apocalypse That Wasn't, Aziraphale broke his quill and then broke down. Crowley offers a feather and some comfort. Or, the story of how Aziraphale got the black feather seen in the Good Omens: Lockdown video.

Under the Stars by rockinellie (G)

Crowley sets up a stargazing picnic for Aziraphale, and they spend an evening enjoying one another’s company.

sense my heartbeat chase your constellations; burn but never fade away by Shaleschnueffler (T)

“Why don’t you drive us somewhere?” Crowley could not help his lips from parting and his brows from rising in heartfelt bafflement. Aziraphale- actively asking to endure Crowley’s driving that he despised so fervently? Intrigued, he jolted into motion, turning his entire body to face Aziraphale fully now. “...really? Like where?" Only upon saying these words out loud did Crowley realise that he’d already swung his legs around and placed his feet on the ground. Following this, there really was no use in letting Aziraphale answer his question. Crowley was going to go along with it, with anything, either way at this point. Less than a minute later, they were speeding past dangerously yellow lights with an unreasonably high number on the clock. or: Having successfully averted the end of the world, one night, Crowley proposes they do something nice. Aziraphale has a suggestion. Crowley rolls with it. They talk, and drive, and sip wine under the star-covered night sky, getting lost in their own world.

In The Next Room by maidenimage (M)

Crowley doesn’t know it yet, but this is going to be the first, last, and only night he spends in the bookshop.

In which Crowley and Aziraphale get drunk, play poker, and then everything changes. Or: Why TF is Aziraphale giving Gabriel his spare room while he let Crowley live in his car for years? Oh, this is why.

Set in canon between season 1 and season 2. Title lifted from a Neon Trees song of the same title.

- Mod D

[justleaveatnine]

need thigh riding with casino matty i am not alright i want him so so so mad. again him and his fucking dealers suit whatever with girlie almost fully naked grinding on his thigh mhmmmm sooo normal❤️

love you baby xx

you feel a plume of cigarette smoke brushing against your face. you can't see him, but you're sure matty looks positively divine right now, the dim glow of his amber lamp always casting him in such a beautiful shadow.

fiery exhaustion courses though your thighs with each grind of your hips. your hands are tied behind your back with one of matty's ties, and another is wrapped delicately across your eyes. you let out a whine as the burn becomes worse, and you can practically feel his gaze piercing you behind the blindfold.

matty is dressed in his dealer's uniform, the only element of dishevelment being the collar you began to unbutton before he had stopped you. the fabric of his pant legs itch against your naked core, as you thrust uselessly against his thighs. you're sat naked straddling his thigh, exposed, the cold air hardening your nipples and sending shivers down your spine. the only warmth is the burn in your muscles with each grind as you seek for pleasure.

"matty, please touch me. you're being so mean," you whine out, petulant and needy.

"that's not gonna work, love. i know you like it when i'm mean," he calmly says, another drag's worth of cigarettes smoke brushing against your skin.

you continue to thrust helplessly, in search of pleasure that is nearly possible to obtain with your bound hands and aching legs. you feel matty move slightly beneath you, and when he hums out a satisfied groan, you know he's begun to touch himself.

"matty, please, let me, please don't-" you rush out, desperate to be the one touching him, to be free from the predicament he's placed you in.

"why shouldn't i? pretty little pet's putting on such a nice show for me." one of his hands reaches out to pinch your nipple, and you cry out at the sudden pain, "my own little porn star," he hums in satisfaction, enjoying the torture he's putting you through oh so much.

"stick your tongue out," he commands, and you lean forward meekly as you follow his request. his thigh shifts beneath you as he leans towards you, and he spits onto your outstretched tongue. as you let it hang, the spit slowly travels down onto your naked breasts, moving lower down your heaving and flushed chest.

he tsks, "so messy, princess." you whimper in response, the humiliation of it all stirring in your hazy mind and travelling down to your sensitive core.

"maybe i should film you one of these times. get a little camcorder, show you just how pretty you look all desperate and fucked out for me." his hand traces featherlight against your waist, teasing you and sending shivers down your spine.

"what do you think of that, love?" he asks you, and you nod your head rapidly at the idea, the idea of having the film of the two of you to watch back sending your mind reeling.

you feel your orgasm approaching inside of you, your muscles tightening and your resolve lowering. "can i come, sir, please?" you rush out, knowing if you do not ask the consequences would be devastating. (but you wouldn't have it any other way)

"come for me, princess", he murmurs as you crest over the edge, your head throwing back with pleasure and tired hips finally coming to a stop. "that's it, good girl," he says as your muscles slowly still their spasms of pleasure.

your head lulls forward as you sit exhausted, still straddling his thigh as his hand traces up and down your back. you feel his fingers come up to lift the blindfold, and the light slowly pours into your vision.

you're not sure if its the haze from your comedown, but he looks practically angelic. his shirt is now unbuttoned, but the sight of you atop him naked while he sits still dressed, seemingly having tucked himself back in, stirs in your stomach. it's demeaning, but handing over your power to him just feels so right.

"did i do good?" you ask meekly, exhaustion bone deep and mind fuzzy.

he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead, murmuring "perfect, baby. so good for me." you smile with pleasure, and you let him maneuver you like a doll until you are sat on your knees on the floor below him, staring up at him wide-eyed.

"just a few more things,” he says lowly, finger tracing teasingly against your face. his gaze lowers down to his thigh, where there is a large wet spot in the location your core thrusted against him. your eyes widen with understanding, and he meets yours once more with a smile.

"clean up your mess, baby," he says with a smile, eyes now practically black with desire. you lean up from your haunches and slowly begin to lick your wetness off his pant leg, never breaking eye contact with his tense gaze once.

he pets your hair mindlessly as your tongue drags across the fabric, sloppily and desperate to please him. he smiles down at you, clearly pleased with your obedience and devotion. once you finish, you lean back onto your haunches, smiling up at him eagerly.

"say thank you, princess," he eyes you, thumb tracing across your cheek.

"thank you, sir," you say, eyes wide and devout as you watch him unbuckle his pants and take himself out once more. he palms himself once, eyes closed and groaning, before returning his gaze to you knelt below him.

"now are you gonna be good and finish me off like you wanted to?"

[harlowtales]

A chance encounter leaves Jack searching for his Cinderella 🪄✨✨✨

18 plus - Adult Themes

PART 1

Jack saw you from across the New Balance store. He was getting fitted for tour and was busy recording in New York and had an appearance on the Tonight’s Show. He walked in and they rushed everyone to finish their purchase to let the superstar shop. You desperately needed a new pair of shoes with being on your feet all day at work. Since working nights the pain was getting worse. You didn’t take kindly to being asked to clear out and were so annoyed you didn’t even care it was him.

“I’m not leaving because some big shot walked in here.” You said pointing over to him which had Jack looking around slightly embarrassed but quite entertained with a smirk on his face. “That’s so disrespectful to your other customers. My feet are in pain!” You complained loudly and caused a bit of a scene.

“Can I help?” You knew the voice. Everyone knew that smooth Kentucky drawl.

“Not unless you work here.” You shot back rudely. Like how dare he?

“Slow down I didn’t ask for the store to be cleared out. I wouldn’t do that.” He said “hold on let me clear this up. Don’t move.”

You sat down out of sheer exhaustion and agony and waited on him for what reason you didn’t know but were too miserable to care.

“K it’s all good, just shop and take your time. You ight?” He asked with the crease in his brow characteristically showing concern.

“Since you asked I am in fact NOT ok. My feet are fucking killing me working night shift.” You replied honestly.

“For real? What do you do? Oh sorry I know you know and don’t seem to care but I’m Jack by the way nice to meet you…” he said extending his hand

“Zoey.” You said shortly. You knew he was a heartthrob but Jack did nothing for you. Although his height in person was impressive you just weren’t into slick fuck boys and didn’t get all the hype about him. He did look effortlessly good though with a backwards green hat that went well with his eyes, white tank and jeans with the New Balances on that he designed with his best friend Urban. There was a kindness in his crystal blue bedroom eyes and dimpled grin with an almost boyish charm the way he covered his mouth and bowed his head when he chuckled. It was staring to register with you a little bit why girls liked him.

“Nice talking to you Jack I gotta go find something good with amazing arch support” You said sounding every bit the old lady you felt like.

“Um ok no worries I’ll um…leave you alone but you had me shook for a minute I can’t lie. I like your spunk Zoey.” He said almost tentatively but kept an eye on you as you browsed.

“My spunk? Ok Connor, me and “spunk” need some shoes for these tired ass feet.” Your slight grin let Jack know at least you didn’t hate him for potentially ruining your one chance to get comfortable sneakers.

“Forget it bro. She ain’t with it.” Urban nudged Jack and whispered. “Not every chick digs you man just chill.”

“Yeah you right lemme relax. Something about her though” Jack mused as he played with the little tuft of hair under his lip trying to figure out his next move or to actually leave you let you be.

“Yeah like she could give a rats ass who you are and now you’re taking it as a challenge and want to crack her code, we’ve been here before fam. Just drop it we gotta go.” Urban said sensibly. Since he settled down he really wasn’t into Jack hunting down girls around him. He had fucked up once and wasn’t about to do it again.

Later that day Jack Tweeted on X as he now rarely did and sent his fanbase reeling “Hey Zoey I got you. Holler.” while holding his New Balance collab. X was going nuts and soon it spread like wildfire across all platforms and gossip blogs were crashing fielding questions about who this Zoey person was.

A few weeks later you hopped on IG. With night shift, school, and managing your little one you didn’t have time to scroll and had turned off notifications for everything. You hadn’t told anyone about your encounter as you had virtually forgotten about it by now. Nobody alerted you to anything as there was thousands of Zoeys in New York City and you never talked about being remotely interested in Jack Harlow.

As you scrolled finally having the time to get your nails done you dropped your bubble tea. “Mommy are you ok?” Your daughter Aaliyah asked you and picked up your drink with her little chubby hands lovingly handing it to you. You pecked her on the forehead.

“Yes bubs I’m fine.” You lied. Suddenly you felt warm and like you needed to lie down, but why? It was New York and famous men checked you out before but this was no regular feeling. You weren’t following him on IG but a hip hop page had the pic of Jack holding the shoe and said “Who is Zoey a.k.a Cinderella”. You swallowed hard, followed him on X and Tweeted back “I’m a size 7”.

PART 2

“Jack? You good bro?” Copelan said watching Jack’s face suddenly look like he’d seen a ghost. They were out just chilling grabbing some fast food which Jack didn’t do often but lately he felt off and everyone noticed.

“She…it took weeks for her to…” he said dumbfounded. He hurriedly called his assistant Kat. “Get me on a flight to New York ASAP. Cope pack a bag we’re going to New York” Jack had kept his Twitter notifications on to know the minute you replied and was just about to turn them off again and flag it under just another chance encounter.

The plane couldn’t go fast enough. He had to get back and see if there was a chance of what exactly he wasn’t sure. He didn’t like feeling out of control like this. He called the shots in every situation but you had a way of unnerving him. Most of the girls in his circle didn’t have much to do but hang out and look pretty. Here you were working a night shift. He had to know more. There was a story there with you for sure. He saw pics of your daughter and you on IG but no dad. He was hoping the coast was clear.

His assistant had already found where you work. Mt.Sinai Hospital. Him, Copelan, Kat, and his security hit the room and had a nap because from Kat’s sleuthing she found out your shift at the hospital started at 9PM. Exactly what you did he wasn’t sure but by the looks of you he was crossing his fingers you were a nurse.

“Ok everybody listen up! It’s going to be another crazy night. You know what to do, have each other’s backs and Zoey will be your resident med student tonight so let her know what you need.” The safety huddle was only 5 mins before everyone scattered for a busy night at the hospital. You were loving your new sneakers, got an A on your last assignment, your daughter was safe with your Grandma and you got an extra pep in your step with a hot large coffee.

Tonight was going to be good. You were finally awake and had a 2 week break from school. It wasn’t easy being in med school as a single parent but landing the gig at the hospital was a huge win. Aaliyah was finally able to get the glasses she needed. Poor little thing kept bumping into things before it was realized how bad her eyesight was at 5.

The night was wearing on but that large coffee had worn off. You had to fill in at the front desk for a bit and it actually was a bit slow. To keep from dozing off you put in your earbuds and put on some Jack Harlow. After you met him you started listening to more of his music and liked what you heard. You put your feet up and did nod off for a second. You woke up with a start by a tap on the shoulder.

“Does anybody fucking work around here or what?”

“JACK????!” You screamed “WHAT THE FUCK”

“Hello is more like it young lady.” Jack said cheekily sitting on the front desk counter swinging his legs preparing to be a total nuisance.

“How did you..???” You said bewildered “When did..”

“I have my ways and I got in this afternoon.” He answered loving that he regained control by throwing you off so much. “So can you get off or what? I got your shoes want to take a walk and break them in?” he said producing a box of size 7 New Balances in his floral design.

“I…wow. Thank you so much.” You said blushing opening the box with a smile that showed your dimples.

“That’s what I like to see.” Jack remarked wholeheartedly. To see you smile and be happy rather than annoyed to see him like the first time made the whole trip worth it. “I also brought well…a smaller pair.” He said as Copelan handed him another smaller box for Aaliyah. “I hope they fit her.” He said.

“Jack I can’t.” You refused the pair for your daughter not wanting to send him the wrong message and not trusting him yet.

“Please. It’s just some shoes, we give them away to kids all the time. I insist.” He said convincingly

“So you’ve obviously been on my insta to know where I work and have a daughter.” You said not sure what to make of all this but cautiously accepting the small box.

“I also didn’t see no man on your gram.” Jack said confidently his manly side showing up in a big way.

“Yeah about that…” You said slowly “I’m too busy and Aaliyah’s dad passed away the 1st year she was born so it’s just me and her now.”

“Oh.” Jack said completely changing his posture to a more humble one. “I’m sorry to come all up in your space like this.”

“No don’t be it’s adorable. I just can’t you know…” You said trying to let him down gently. You saw his face drop and decided to make it up to him. “Let me work my magic and I’ll be right back.”

His face lit up and he jumped down from the counter excited. A few minutes later the supervising doctor came out. “So you weren’t lying! It’s Jack Harlow!” She exclaimed. “Nice to meet you” She said nervously shaking Jack’s hand way too hard and for too long. “You know what Zoey? Take tonight off we got it covered here.”

“Imma get you some sneakers too.” Jack said to her gratefully as he walked away with you. Just let Zoey know your size and I got you.”

“Seriously??!! Can you sign them?” Your supervisor said glowing.

“Done.” Jack said “I’ll send them signed.”

“Wow. So how long you been a nurse?” Copelan asked you.

“Um I’m in med school to be a doctor. Cardiac specialist actually.” You said a little tired of people always assuming women were nurses.

“Oops my bad. I didn’t mean..” Cope tried to recover but Jack just gave him a sign to stop.

“Look Jack I need to know where we’re going. I can’t be walking in too late.” You said worried about Aaliyah and knowing your Grandmother would not be having you coming in wee hours of the morning because you had been out with a rapper.

Jack opened the door of the black SUV for you and once nicely inside he sat beside you and took your hand and said “I know you’re a mom and you have a life and responsibilities and I totally respect that. Nothing crazy, let’s go for a bite to eat with the team so you feel safe. There’s no rush. I’m here for a few days because I wasn’t sure how this would go and in case you didn’t like that I surprised you I had time to go back in for more abuse until I had a relative level of success.” He chuckled and it melted your heart. You were starting to relax.

Dinner was fabulous. It was the fanciest restaurant you had ever been in. It made you a little scared because you were working hard and you didn’t want to give Jack the impression you could be bought and no way was he meeting Aaliyah any time soon. You never had guys in and out of her life and you weren’t about to start now. As glasses of wine clinked and the hum of rich conversation was all around you as you sat in your hospital scrubs you knew that without Jack, the way you were dressed, how ordinary you looked, you would never get in a place like this on your own. Your head was spinning. Forever the med school major you were thinking too much. “Why can’t I just enjoy this?” You thought in frustration.

Jack caught a vibe you were uncomfortable. He leaned over to you and whispered “Hey you want to go for a little walk? Get some air?”

“Sure.” You said immediately feeling claustrophobic.

He got up and pulled out your chair for you. As you stepped out of the buzzing Italian restaurant the night air was chilly so he gave you the light jacket he was wearing and rubbed your shoulders to warm you up making you full on laugh.

“That’s what I been wanting to hear. That laugh. That’s the spark in everything.” Jack said wistfully as you strolled together down the street in the city that never sleeps hitched under his arm. For both of you it felt like a dream. You leaned your head on him that sent a tingle through his body. He liked girls before but was this what love felt like? The feeling he said in numerous interviews he had never felt? Maybe it was the champagne but his head felt light and he felt a weight had been lifted off of him having you warm up to him like this. He just wished he could take you home with him. You, Aaliyah, your Grandma and make all your lives so much easier, but he knew that wasn’t possible, at least for now.

“Thank you Jack for all this I…” Jack interrupted what you were saying with a deep kiss. Steam was rising from the street with lights and sounds going fuzzy for that moment like you were in some surreal parallel universe. You didn’t expect his lips to feel so soft and the touch after so many years of not being kissed was almost overwhelming and old instincts kicked in to escape closeness.

“Oh god, Jack that was… oh my, I need to get home to Aaliyah.” You lied checking your watch. Everyone at home was sleeping not even aware you were not at work.

“Zoey please.” Jack pressed into your body gently going in for another kiss.” This time you felt yourself wilt and totally succumb to him. He backed you up against a brick wall as you hadn’t noticed you had turned into an alley that was hard to see what was happening but you felt completely safe with him. Too safe.

“I need you Zoey.” He said breathlessly as his hand drifted lower and lower to your behind. You pushed your tongue into his and felt him rising. Was it going to happen here? In the open like this?

“Jack no this can’t happen here.” You said weakly protesting as he kissed up your neck.

“I wouldn’t expect anything now.” He said “I’m just savouring this moment. Why don’t we head back sweet Zoey, songs are written about girls like you.”

PART 3

In dropping you off Jack walked you to your door. An old brownstone row house you shared with your Grandmother and daughter. As you were saying goodbyes and you were standing in the doorway Aaliyah snuck right past you. You didn’t even hear her coming. With pyjamas on, a curly mop of hair, rubbing her eyes with a teddy bear she was suddenly looking at Jack bewildered.

“Hi.” She said to him shyly and hugged your legs.

“Aaliyah hunny I’m sorry to wake you up.” You apologized picking her up and hitching her on your hip. This wasn’t supposed to happen! Now she saw Jack and Jack saw her.

Jack was immediately taken by Aaliyah. She was a mini- version of you and he felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest. It was hard to contain what he was feeling and not be super goofy with her in some way. He hoped to have a few of his own one day.

“Hey Aaliyah right? Pleased to meet you I’m Jack.” He simply said not wanting to overwhelm the tired little girl.

Aaliyah rested her groggy head on your shoulder and stuck her thumb in her mouth. “Well Jack as you can see I have to tuck her back in. Thank you so much and I apologize for how I acted when we met.” You offered.

“It’s all good. You were going through it that day. Bye Aaliyah, have sweet dreams. I got you a gift and your mom is going to give it to you tomorrow ok?” Jack said rubbing her back.

“Ok Mr.Jack.” She said sleepily

“Zoey, can I please see you tomorrow?” Jack asked cautiously hopeful.

“Jack I have to spend time with Aaliyah tomorrow.” You replied.

“Ok I can come with, if it’s ok. Aaliyah can I hang out with you and Mommy tomorrow?” Jack asked her

“What are you doing? Don’t ask her that, she’s not ready for that.” You shot back at him turning away cradling Aaliyah as she drifted off back to sleep.

“She’s not ready? Or you’re not ready.” He countered. He wasn’t going to back down easily.

“Jack…” you started to say

“I’ll pick you up at Noon.” He interrupted. You had successfully curved guys for years but feared you just met your match. “How’s the Zoo sound tomorrow for this little sleepy bubs.” Jack said affectionately.

“I call her bubs.” You said frozen in surprise at him using that word.

“I knew this was on some serendipity vibes meeting you. I hope you’re ready to make some changes in your life Zoey cuz this is happening.” Jack said firmly

PART 4

Aaliyah waited by the window for the man that gave her the pretty sneakers with flowers. She liked that he was nice to her mommy and made her smile because mommy didn’t smile that much. She saw the Black SUV roll to a stop in front of her house. He started walking up and rang the doorbell. Aaliyah jumped down from the couch “Mommyyyyyy!!!! Mr. Jack is here!”

You were in your room breathing and talking to yourself that everything would be fine. “It’s just the Zoo, it’s just the zoo.” You said calmly while freaking out inside. That kiss lived in your head rent free since it happened and made you nervous to see him again. You jumped when the doorbell rang and Aaliyah called for you. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror scrutinizing every last detail of your outfit. Hoop earrings but not too big, jeans with a rips in the knees, Jordan’s and a Nirvana hoodie, light makeup, and sloppy but controlled bun. This was a day at the Zoo with a pre-schooler not exactly the time for impressing Jack, and in fact you didn’t want to send the message you were too available.

Jack had a personality that was very strong, quiet, light hearted but energetic all at the same time. He was almost as much of a handful as Aaliyah. You were adjusting to who he was feeling awkward and out of practice going on dates. When you made it downstairs Jack, his Security, Copelan, his assistant, and the driver were all in the living room talking to Aaliyah and your Grandmother. They were eating some fresh homemade banana bread and sipping some tea out of the good tea set. Granny only broke that out for damn near royalty.

Aaliyah was enjoying the extra treats she was getting because there was a guest. She sat happily having an extra piece of banana bread which was her favourite and playing with a new Barbies Jack instructed Kat to pick out for her at Wal-Mart early in the morning. He knew the key to your heart was him treating Aaliyah right and he was holding back from spoiling the little girl or you. He had brought you flowers but that’s it. He could tell showering you with gifts would make you run.

As you appeared in the doorway everyone stopped and looked at you. Jack swallowed hard because he thought you looked naturally gorgeous. Copelan nudged him because he had his mouth hanging open and was staring. “Miss Zoey you had this poor man waiting on the stoop I had to entertain and feed him poor thing was hungry.” Your Grandmother said in a chiding tone.

“Thank you Granny for entertaining everyone while I took a whole 5 minutes to come down.” You said sarcastically. “Aaliyah you remember Jack right?”

“Yes and he brought me Barbies!” Aaliyah exclaimed

“I see that. Don’t get spoiled.” You cautioned her sternly. “Shoes and Barbies in less than 24 hours. Wow okay thank you Jack.” You said disapprovingly.

“Zoey! So rude!” Your Grandmother said in shock you would say that to the only date you had in years that happened to be so handsome and charming. “I’m sorry for my Granddaughter’s attitude Mr. Harlow.” She said turning to Jack embarrassed.

You were mortified and turned crying running upstairs and slamming your bedroom door. “What is wrong with me?” You said sobbing uncontrollably.

“It’s ok Mr.Jack Mommy cries a lot.” Aaliyah said while playing with her Barbies.

“I got this. Guys we’ll meet you in the car. Aaliyah I’ll go check on Mommy ok.” Jack said concerned it was so normal for the little girl to see you cry like that. He gently knocked on your door. “Zoey? You ight? Can I come in?”

You were surprised he hadn’t left. You blew your nose, straightened yourself out and opened the door. “Hey” you said humbly knowing you were totally out of pocket a minute ago.

“Hey.” Jack said softly holding out the bouquet he brought you like some sort of peace offering. “May I?” He asked gesturing to wrap his arms around you to which you tearfully nodded. “No matter how hard you try I’m here. Even if this goes nowhere. I know this is a lot for you and I been holding back to not overwhelm you but if I don’t push a little Imma get nowhere.”

Jack continued holding you and tilted your chin up to look him in his blue eyes. “I’m just trying to get to know you. I didn’t fly all the way back here with my team to make you feel bought and paid for. I genuinely think Aaliyah is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen because she’s a mini you and I’m hoping…Zoey I….I’ve fallen for you and dammit Imma fall as hard as I want to. You’re not the only stubborn one up in here.”

Jack disarmed you once again with his caring calm voice and his warm embrace. “I don’t deserve you. I’m a single mom, I’m not anything to date a famous person. I don’t know how to act or what to say.” You said frustrated with yourself.

“Zoey, that’s why I like you. You’re just you. I haven’t seen you try to impress me once since I met you and you don’t know how much that means to me. Barbies? I held back from buying Aaliyah that whole damn toy store. I’m trying to go at your pace but you gotta let me do something to show I care. So can we go to the Zoo? I’d really like to get out of your bedroom because 3 more minutes and we are taking this convo to the mattress. That messy bun is my kryptonite.”

You giggled and gathered yourself to have a great day. “I’m going to the Bronx Zoo with Jack Harlow and it’s perfectly natural right? What in the actual fuck is going on??!!!” You thought as he helped you into the luxury SUV with the most plush seats you ever sat in holding your hand all the way to the Zoo.

PART 5

“Mommyyyyy!!!! Look!! The giraffes have suuuppper long legs like Mr. Jack.” Aaliyah said delightfully not in any way trying to insult Jack. She was quite taken with him hitching a ride sitting on his shoulders.

Jack thought it was adorable “Can’t beat kids for their brutal honesty” He said with a giggle.

“Wow now I can’t unsee it.” You said with a straight face looking at him and looking at the giraffe. Jack thought he was the only one that could joke sarcastically serious but he was wrong. Most girls would be afraid to come off rude and be putting on a show for him on their best behaviour but not you. He’d already experienced you being down right rude and a crying mess so this was a step up as far as he was concerned.

The day was super fun but on the way home both you and Aaliyah fell asleep on either side of Jack putting your full weight on him. Kat thought it was so cute she took a picture. “Don’t post that it would piss my baby right off.” He whispered in a chuckle feeling like the luckiest man in the world.

“Your baby?” Kat said with a smirk “Careful Jack it sounds like you have feelings after all.”

“I have lots of feelings I just make sure I stuff em down as far as I can cuz when I settle down it’s gotta be forever. I have big shoes to fill with my Grandparents and parents married for so long.” He said so seriously it gave Kat tingles. She was so happy to see this side of her boss. “I can’t fuck up my whole bag on some gold digger. This one right here…might be it” He said pecking you on the forehead waking you up.

“Oh geez I’m so sorry I fell asleep on you!” You said with a start.

“It’s fine. I’m glad y’all enjoyed it.” Jack said

“I never been to the Zoo. My parents died before…and then her dad…I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a downer. We had a ball Jack.” You said not wanting to ruin the moment. There was plenty of time for sob stories. You happily pecked him on the cheek.

“That’s why you cry a lot.” Jack said looking at you like his whole world.

“How did you know that?” You said incredulously

“A little birdie told me.” He said looking at Aaliyah passed out leaning on his arm.

“Yeah that little birdie sings like a canary sometimes.” You said frowning at your daughter for spilling that tea.

When he dropped you off it was turning into evening. Granny was cooking up a storm disappointed Jack couldn’t stay for dinner. Jack had Aaliyah on his shoulder and carried her upstairs. You tucked her in and met him in the hallway. He pulled you in for a long kiss his hand grazing your breast but he pulled it back. “One day soon Jack, I promise.” You said breathlessly. “It’s not like I don’t want to I just…”

“You don’t have to explain but if I don’t hit the road we gone make a movie in your childhood bedroom and Granny tryna feed me.” He said completely serious but you snorted a laugh.

“Mmmmm I hope we make a movie and a sequel.” You said caressing his built chest through his TShirt.

“Zoey please I’m getting a hard on stop it.” Jack said in mock protest. “Im tryna turn over a new leaf here and behave myself.”

“You’re right. Aaliyah is all I can handle.” You replied rolling your eyes at her bedroom door. “Unless….”

“Unless what?” Jack said sexily leaning back against the wall while you put your hand on his generous bulge through his trackpants

“Zoey…..” he moaned

“Come to my room.” You said daringly pulling him in and locking the door.

Granny heard a thud from upstairs as you both flopped on the bed and just shook her head giggling to herself as she finished the macaroni and cheese she was making to go with the pot roast. “I guess he’s staying for dinner.” She said

@itsyagirljaz @okaaay-mice @ride4harlow

[redroomreflections]

The Ghost in The Window Chapter 2

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: As a former child star and one-half of one of Hollywood's most powerful couples, you’re no stranger to the dangers of the spotlight. Life has just begun to settle for you as you navigate motherhood, marriage, and your career. When a fan-turned-stalker gets a bit too close for comfort, everything is turned upside down

Note: Uploading the WIPs too.

W/c: 5.9k

chapter 1

You awoke to the sound of a baby crying and crackling from the baby monitor on your nightstand. You adjusted your position in bed, lying on your side, peeking one eye open to view the screen. For just a few seconds you were hoping that Grace would fall asleep again. Of course, that would be too easy and to no surprise, she’s awake in her crib. You reach out a hand to feel for your phone, finding it under the bundle of blankets, to see it’s only six in the morning. You guess your day would be starting now. It doesn’t take you long to rush to the bathroom to relieve yourself and then make your way to the nursery. You stop at Rose’s bedroom to see her lying peacefully amongst a mountain of stuffed animals in her bed. You close her bedroom door again and leave her to sleep. At least one of you is getting that luxury.

You have Carla on standby when needed but you’d instead do all of this on your own. In the months between work, there’s always something to do. Motherhood was just one of them. It’s your favorite part and though it gets lonely without Natasha here you know she’s never too far away. You step into Grace’s bedroom, tapping the light switch to flood the room, while you grab her from her crib. She’s cuddly this morning as she lies her head on your shoulder.

“First, we get a diaper change, and then Mommy needs her coffee,” You narrate the entire day to Grace. You lie her atop the changing table, one you rarely use, as you quickly get her all cleaned up. “I know that was uncomfortable. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.” Her whining dies down to slight sniffles as she looks up at you. She’s enamored by you and your speaking voice. She grabs onto one of the pacifiers lying near her head to press it into her mouth.

Once that’s settled you head down to the first floor where you find Mocha waiting at the kitchen doors to be let out. You unlock the french doors with one and open it wide enough for the Mocha to go and relieve himself.

Next, you try to put Grace in her high chair to free up your hands but she’s having none of it. Her cries of protest are heard, so you keep her on your hip as you prepare a coffee. Using a Keurig is an easy enough process, and you use it efficiently. Grace watches you for a little longer before deciding she’s ready for her breakfast. She tugs at the material of your tank top with chubby hands, hoping to free one of your breasts.

“Mommy’s trying to hurry,” You say. While you wait for the coffee to finish, you go onto the patio to place your planner and phone on the table. You’re honestly doing a lot for a relaxing morning at home. When the coffee’s done, you take extra care to keep it out of arm's reach of Grace. You sit in a cozy spot where you can see the view of Los Angeles from your backyard. The sun had only risen an hour ago and was already shining brightly. It’s a peaceful morning if you do say so yourself. You position Grace in your arms, shifting your tank top up, and wait for her to latch on. Her suckling is steady and strong. She’ll be occupied for the next twenty minutes. You crack open your planner, eyeing the next week's dates as you go over your schedule. You have an outfit fitting and a photo shoot tomorrow, a brunch with friends in two days, and a party that you’re throwing in a couple of nights.

It’s an end-of-summer party that you host annually. Friends and family all get together to celebrate various accomplishments and goals they’ve tackled throughout the summer. You’re honestly just ready for the fun to begin. You spend several months of the year working your ass off and you deserve to celebrate. You open up a notes page on your phone to go through the checklist you’ve been keeping for the past week. You’re having the party here at home so the guest list isn’t too big. Your house is big enough to fit about sixty people. Anything more and it would be bursting at the seams. There’s no real theme. However, you’re bound to call it a summer splash party or something. The invitations have been sent and RSVPs are coming back by the buckets. There’s also catering and a personal chef coming to bring food. When you said a small party you might be lying. This thing may turn out to be something more than you imagined it would be. Those usually turned out to be more fun.

You’re finishing up with your checklist just in time to switch Grace to your other breast. She’s content and happy as she fills her tummy. The next few minutes are spent in silence as you sip your coffee. You should think about breakfast. Natasha is coming home today and you wonder if she would enjoy something homemade or a restaurant meal. Rose loves IHOP and you’re sure neither of them would protest going to the family chain.

Speaking of Rose, the princess is awake, and a tad bit grumpy as she opens the patio doors to come and greet you. She curls into your side, her head on your arm, as she grumbles.

“Oh, is someone grumpy today?” You ask and she nods her head. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Mama’s not here yet,” Rose frowns and you know the feeling. Life is always so much better with Natasha there. You brush her coils out of her face, her bonnet must have fallen off sometime in the night, to see her eyes. She pouts up at you and gets a little annoyed when you smile.

“You’re in luck,” You tell her. “We are going to pick Mama up from the airport in about an hour. I was going to go on my own but you’re awake so you can go too.” You offer and Rose smiles.

“Can we get her flowers?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” You say. “We can pick them up on the way there.”

It was settled. You would be getting Natasha flowers, picking her up from the airport, and then hopefully breakfast. In that order.

**************************

There’s only one small teeny tiny detail you forgot when it comes to airport runs to LAX. Don’t do them. It’s a confusing and congested airport with twists and turns you never believe. The traffic is always out of this world and you develop road rage at the mere idea of it. Times like now you forget you’re in a place of privilege where you could have utilized a driver to fetch Natasha. It sounds fancy but it’s useful. Though it’s too late now. You park the car in one of the visiting parking garages. You’re sure the paparazzi are somewhere inside waiting for Natasha or some other celebrity to make an appearance as they’re always conveniently waiting for you there. Despite the various rumors from many different sources, you don’t call the paparazzi on yourself. You think it’s inauthentic and a bit dumb. It’s a complete lack of privacy that you’re not willing to participate in. Especially when the kids are involved. Grace has been left at home with Carla while you’ve made an event of your time with Rose. She enjoys being the star of the show anyway.

You help Rose out of the car, holding onto her hand tightly as you grab the bouquet of rainbow roses in the other hand. The walk to the baggage claim isn’t too far. Rose’s little legs struggle to keep up but she doesn’t complain one bit. You receive a text from Natasha letting you know she landed. You send her your love and a reply that you’re here waiting for her. You wait in a corner together where no one will bother you. You push the sunglasses you’re sporting further up your nose as you watch Rose play a game of pretend hopscotch in front of you. She’s wearing matching sunglasses that you think are utterly adorable on her. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see someone trying to sneakily record. When you look in their direction their device is put away. You offer them a small smile though you would like to do anything but. Perks of the job you guess.

“Rosie, look,” You instruct the four-year-old when you catch a glimpse of Natasha further down. Rose’s head shoots up, unable to see from her vantage point, and so she comes to stand next to you again. You point, handing her the roses to take Natasha. Rose’s entire face lights up when she catches sight of her. Natasha waves and smiles widely when she spots you. She opens her arms wide and kneels to catch Rose when she runs to her. They’re wrapped together in a tight embrace for a few more seconds. Natasha takes Rose in her arms, transferring her to her hip so that she can come over and hug you. It feels good to have her in your embrace. She looks good and smells expensive. It’s a funny thought but everything about her makes you happy.

“Hi,” Natasha greets you with a peck to your lips. “How are you?”

“Good. Everything’s fine,” You smile.

“Mama, we got you flowers see,” Rose holds up the bouquet so that it’s directly in Natasha’s view.

“I see,” Natasha takes the flowers. “I love them so much. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“You’re welcome,” Rose looks around. “Can we go get food now? My tummy is rumbling a lot.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Natasha reaches behind her for her bags. It’s only a few suitcases so you help with the other ones. You walk side by side towards the parking garage. “Hey, Rosie, put your sunglasses down,” Natasha instructs and she does as told. Upon exiting the airport, you’re met with the flashing lights of the paparazzi cameras. Leave it to you to forget to ask for your bodyguard to tag along. Sometimes you conveniently forget that you’re a well-known person and that privacy is a luxury. Natasha holds Rose closer to her as she follows you to the car. Rose goes in first, Natasha helping her with her seat buckles, while you toss the bags into the truck. Overall you’re able to ignore the badgering and borderline inappropriate questions. You climb into the driver’s seat and take extra care to pull out of the parking spot.

“I don’t like those men,” Rose says from the backseat. “They’re always yelling and they are not nice people at all. Right Mama?” She looks for Natasha’s approval.

“That’s right they’re not nice people,” Natasha agrees. “Now do you want to eat at home and get delivery or do you want to go to our favorite restaurant? It’s up to you.”

“IHOP!” Rose cheers. It won’t take you long to get to your destination. If you didn’t count an hour as long. For LA traffic it truly isn’t a long time. You and Natasha have considered moving back to her hometown of Cincinnati. It would be much quieter and way easier to live in. It’s something you’ve thought more about in recent months. No, you’re not ready to give up your career and the perks that come with it. Though you’re always thinking of the girls' safety and happiness too. Rose’s school is here. Her friends, your friends, and your community is here. It would be a big change. A change you’re simply not ready for yet. As much as Natasha wants to leave, you don’t think she’s ready for it yet either.

IHOP is pretty deserted at this time of day. It’s a weekday and everyone would either be working or had something better to do. This was a great opportunity for you to have a family day out. Rose couldn’t contain her excitement as she hops out of the car to hold Natasha’s hand. She practically drags the redhead into the building of the place you frequent. Though there are places with finer dining that is maybe more expensive that you can’t deny her the simplicity that is IHOP.

When you reach the entrance you’re met with a semi-familiar face. You can’t pinpoint it right away but when she introduces herself you understand now.

“Hi, for three,” Natasha requests and she nods. You follow the young girl to a corner of the restaurant where an open booth is. Rose takes the inner area and Natasha slides in after her. You take the other side, crossing your legs, before narrowing your eyes.

“Have we met somewhere before?” You ask and the girl grins from ear to ear.

“We have,” her ponytail bounces whenever she speaks and now you can see that she can barely contain her excitement. It wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you. “I’m Carissa. WildeLover04 on twitter. We’ve met a couple of times now.”

“Oh, wow,” You remember now. Her face has now been engrained in your mind. “You work here?”

“It’s my first week,” She confirms. “I heard the tips over here on this side of town were good. So I applied and got the job on the spot.”

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Rose reminds you. She taps a picture on the menu to signal she wants pancakes and she’s not willing to wait for a second longer.

“Well, Carissa, congratulations and it’s very nice to meet you,” Natasha adds to the conversation.

“Thank you,” Carissa takes out her pen and pad. She must have forgotten her script because a few seconds later she’s scolding herself. “Right, sorry, silly me. Can I get you guys started with something to drink?”

“I’ll have a coffee, black,” Natasha requests and she looks to Rose for her request.

“Orange juice, please,” Rose chimes in.

“She’s so well-mannered,” Carissa comments as she scribbles down the order. She waits for you to say yours.

“I’ll take a water, thank you,”

“Okay, great, take some time to look over the menu and I’ll make sure to bring those drinks right out to you,” She promises and walks off with a beam.

You wait until she’s out of earshot before turning back to Natasha.

“That girl is like a super fan of mine,” You inform her. Natasha seems interested enough. You give her the entire rundown of everything with Carissa and how big of a following she has.

“Do you find it weird that she works here?” Natasha tilts her head.

“Hmm, no, maybe a little,” You’re not too sure. “It’s not like she would have tried to work here to only see me. I’m sure other public figures come and eat here all the time.”

“She’s a bit awkward but seems harmless,” Natasha shrugs. As long as she remained respectful there should be no problem.

Things are smooth sailing for the rest of breakfast. Rose gets the jr pancake combo that comes with confetti sprinkle-covered pancakes. You get french toast and Natasha gets chicken and waffles. You eat from her plate and she’s all too willing to share. Carissa hovers a little but you just write it off as her being a good waitress. You leave her with a hefty tip and give your goodbyes to the rest of the staff that you’ve come to know. You stop for the bathroom first when you bump into her again. Natasha and Rose head to the car to wait for you. It’s a quick trip and you’re about to wash your hands when she comes in. You give her a polite smile and proceed with your hand washing. She’s on her phone and she’s texting a mile a minute. Suddenly, she looks up at you.

“Hey, um, this may seem weird,” She comes across as shy though you’re beginning to think she’s anything but. “I sent you a bear. I have a friend that works at CAA and I was wondering if you received it. I know you sent a tweet for thanks but I just wanted to make sure Rose liked it.”

“Oh, yeah, I have it. I usually try to keep everything that’s sent to me,” You look at her through the mirror.

“Great, I’m glad,” She looks at her watch. “Thank you for being so nice about everything. I know I’m coming across as creepy. I’m just really happy I got to meet you and everything.”

“No problem,” You say. You think it’s a bit of an awkward conversation to be having in the bathroom. “It’s so nice that you’re so normal. I’ve met a lot of people that don’t keep their cool when meeting me.”

“No, I’m totally chill,” Carissa promises. “I’ve met a lot of celebrities before but you’re my favorite.”

“Thank you,” You take the compliment. “I have to go now but thank you for the kind words.” You slip past her and take the exit. You meet Natasha and Rose in the car. You slide into the driver’s seat again and it’s time to head home.

***********************************

When you arrive home, Natasha keeps the girls occupied while you go for a quick nap. You’re still thinking about Carissa and the conversation you had with her when you get to your bedroom. You reach for the bear that’s been tucked in a corner of your bedroom until now. You checked it for cameras or a mic upon receiving it but now you’re a little paranoid. You don’t want to assume that Carissa has ill intentions but you can never be too sure.

“Everything okay?” Natasha asks as she steps into the bedroom. She eyes the bear and you.

“Peachy,” You take the bear, inspecting it for any unusual stitchings or holes, only to find none. Maybe you’re overreacting. This time you stuff it in the back of your closet where it will stay for the near future.

“What’s that about?” Natasha leans against the dresser with her arms folded. She watches as you stuff the bear into the back of the closet where neither of you can see it.

“It’s nothing,” You shake your head. She probably wouldn’t believe you if you said it.

“Okay,” Natasha takes your word for it. On your way out of the bedroom, she reaches a hand out to catch your arm. She tugs you into her, wrapping her arms around your waist, to keep you there. “I haven’t kissed you today.”

“We kissed at the airport?” You remind her and Natasha plays coy. “I’m sure there are dozens of paparazzi pictures and fan edits to show you.”

“I don't know it’s been so long I’m forgetting what it's like,” She shakes her head and you chuckle. You decide to refresh her memory in another way. This time by leading her to the bed where you gently push her down. She sits with a happy expression on her face. She gives your body a once-over, and the wanton look sends chills down your spine. As you lean into her, you move to straddle her lap, directing one of her hands to your bottom. The first kiss is innocent enough. Short and sweet. A reacquaintance if you will. The next kiss is a little more passionate. A little more heated and definitely a lot more tongue. You breathe through your nose as best you can, letting out a little moan when Natasha bites your bottom lip, and you get lost in the kiss.

“My eyes, they’re burning,” Rose interrupts your makeout session. She covers her eyes with both hands and walks blindly over to the both of you. “No hands in naughty places.” She warns the both of you and you laugh at her words.

“That’s right, Rosie,” Natasha agrees. She moves her hand to a more respectable place. Before either of you realize what’s happening, Rose is pushing you from Natasha's lap to sit.

“I forgot I’m not the only woman in your life anymore,” You roll your eyes in fake annoyance.

“Mama, guess what?” Rose says.

“What?” Natasha plays along. “You got a new doll?”

“Nope,” Rose shakes her head.

“You grew another arm?” Natasha uses her strength to flip Rosie around to search for a new arm.

“No, Mama,” Rose giggles. “I got a hideaway in my room. Want to see?”

“I’d love to,” Natasha allows her to slip from her lap before following her.

“C’mon, Mommy, you too,” Rose toddles back to you to pull you to a standing position. You both walk with her down the hall to her bedroom. Rose’s bedroom is every little girl's dream. At least it was the dream bedroom you wanted when you were younger. It’s a soft pink whimsical-themed bedroom with a twin-sized sleigh bed. Her toys are lined up along her window seat rather than in her toy box. Rose’s bed is made up courtesy of Carla and it’s pretty neat. On one side of the bedroom, she has a tent that she plays in more often than not. There’s her dresser, her closet filled with many dresses and tutus, and her new hiding spot.

It’s a crawlspace. Nothing too huge. Not big enough to be considered an extra room. The walls are the same color as the bedroom. You had a contractor and electrician come to install lights and ensure the room was safe for her to be inside. There’s a mini chandelier-type light that Rose picked out herself. A sleeping bag, some of her toys, and a blanket inside. Natasha crawls in first and then you. You both fit comfortably along with Rose.

“This is really nice,” Natasha looks around. There’s a chalkboard wall behind her and it’s already filled with plenty of drawings from Rose. “I think your new space is fit for a princess.”

“Thank you,” Rose shuffles around her toys to sit. “You’re not too big either, Mommy.” Rose gestures to both of you.

“Nope,” You nod.

“I don’t know Rose this is a whole house,” Natasha pokes her. “Can I move in? Are you going to charge me rent?”

“No,” Rose laughs again. “No grown-ups allowed or even boys.”

“No grownups? Mommy and I are grownups? Can we come in,” Natasha tilts her head?

“Y-yeah but not when the door is closed. That means privacy,” Rose sets the record straight. “And no boys because I don’t have a brother. I want one though.”

“You want a brother?” You raise a brow. This is the first you’ve heard of this.

“Yes, I need a brother so he can teach me how to skateboard,” Rose reasons. She crosses her feet at the ankle and tells you all about why brothers would be nice. “But he can’t live here with us. He can live somewhere else and just visit. Like Peter.”

“There it is,” Natasha nudges you. “She only wants a brother to bend to her every will.”

“At least she knows,” You comment.

“Can we have a tea party now?” Rose suggests. She sits up and begins to rearrange her toys again to make room. There was never a dull moment with her.

*******************************************************

The next morning is even more hectic than before. You woke up late, completely Natasha’s fault and if she denied it you’d remind her of her insatiable habits. Next, you forgot to pump so you do it in the car on the way to the photoshoot. Roxy talks to you about a campaign she has coming up where she thinks the entire family could join in. You’re about to decline but it doesn't sound like a bad idea.

“It’s for The Children’s Place,” Roxy gives the details. “It won’t be a huge campaign. They have a family collection coming out. The girls would be featured but it wouldn’t be a huge thing.”

“Hmm, I’ll have to run it by Tasha,” You shift uncomfortably. Though pumping wasn’t painful it wasn’t a walk in the park either. You preferred to breastfeed Grace. “You know Rose will let the fame get to her head the first chance she gets.”

“I love that girl,” Roxy laughs. “Did you do anything fun yesterday?”

“Other than have mindblowing sex with my insanely hot wife?” You offer just to gross her out and her reaction doesn’t disappoint.

“I can’t blame you because I did the same,” Roxy shrugs. "Not with your wife. My wife." Roxy laughs and you join in.

“We went to IHOP for breakfast with Rose. There was an interesting interaction with a fan who works there. Carissa.”

“The one that sent you the bear?” Roxy recalls her name.

“That’s the one,” You nod.

“I’ve been keeping track of her account,” Roxy says. “She’s a total fangirl. It’s disgusting.”

“She didn’t seem like the crazed type the few times I’ve talked with her,” You think it over. “Well, not more than usual. She does seem a tad bit obsessed but…”

“As I said I’ve got my eye on her,” Roxy shakes the phone in her hand. “Isn’t that right, Sonny?” Roxy looks to the front seat where your bodyguard, Sonny, is looking out of the window.

“Absolutely,” He replies stoically. He’s always so serious.

“Anyway, are you coming to the party?” You ask Roxy.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss a Romanoff-Y/Ll/N party for the world,” She locks her phone.

“It’s a date,” You release yourself from the shackles of the breast pump while managing to keep your modesty. You ensure the containers are closed before stuffing them into the cooler you’re keeping inside the car. Now you’re ready for the photoshoot.

The photoshoot lasts for about five hours. Your schedule is jam-packed for the day with costume fittings, hair and makeup, and the actual shoot itself. You’re beginning to feel fatigued with the entire process but you know you have to push forward. Anything to make the time go by faster. You’re also scheduled for an interview with USWeekly which is the point of this entire thing. You’re seated in a chair, dressed in an extravagant nightgown, with fuzzy pink slippers on your feet, and Darcy by your side to fix your makeup. You pay as much attention as you can to the interviewer Samantha Daily as she shoots off questions.

“Do you ever get used to being a celebrity?” She asks and you pause.

“No, I don’t think you do,” You answer honestly. “At least for me. There are people that exist that live for the fame and lifestyle and I think Natasha handles it all quite well. As for me, while I enjoy it, fame was never something I was chasing. It’s always been about the craft and the entertainment industry as an art. So, no, I’m always kind of surprised when people know me. It makes it harder but having discernment and understanding what celebrity means also helps a lot.”

“I know as a celebrity there are a lot of crazy rumors,” Samantha inquires and you bob your head. “What’s the craziest rumor you’ve heard about yourself?”

“Hmm, I think each decade there’s a new one,” You genuinely try to think which one is the craziest. “When I was a young teen, you know I had a lot of trouble finding myself and navigating the fame, I was never, you know, wild or disrespectful, but I had my moments. Back then there was one rumor that I lost my virginity on a casting couch. Which implies a lot of things that don’t even describe my character or my personality. It just was not factual and also not something I would have ever thought about doing back then or even now as an adult woman. It was a rumor put out by an actress that lost out on the role we both auditioned for. I mean, she’s apologized since then, but it followed me around for a while. Um, when Natasha and I first began dating people would make up different places where they saw us having sex. Which is inappropriate as rumors tend to be. I’ve heard a lot of ridiculous things. A lot of them involve sex. In our early twenties, we were seen as wild sex symbols that everyone wanted to get a taste of. So I could see where it would come from but a lot of it was just hearsay and it’s very hard to steer away from those types of things when it's out there.”

“That is very unfortunate that young women in the industry have to go through that,” Samantha sympathizes.

“It is and I’m glad now we’re having conversations and you know bringing these things to light,” You agree. “You know being in some of these rooms and knowing that that’s what people think of you is disheartening. They’re not paying attention to the work and they only consider you a body to lust after. It’s dehumanizing.”

You and Samantha discuss a little more off the record before you have more questions.

“Now, I want to pivot over to success,” Samantha begins. “What would you say is your biggest accomplishment?”

“Hmm, I figure I can say something cliche like motherhood,” You toy with the idea. You stop speaking when Darcy needs to give you touch-ups. “I think it’s a different kind of success that is only considered great if you see it that way. I love my children. I love being a mom. They’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. I was intentional with motherhood, how I wanted to raise my girls, and how I wanted to be. So the accomplishment for me lies in raising well-rounded and emotionally intelligent humans who have compassion for others and their surroundings. I think that right now they’re so young, I can say that Rose is so polite and so sweet. She’s a joy to have around and she’s helpful. Career-wise, my recent Emmy win was amazing, I got to record an album as a teen. I think every single thing I’ve done has been fulfilling and I wouldn’t say one thing is bigger than the other.”

“That’s a great answer. I love that answer,” Samantha writes your words down in her notebook. The rest of the interview pretty much goes like that. She’s a great interviewer and knows how to get the correct information from you. She isn’t pushy or invasive, and you love her for that. Before you know it your time is up, and the shoot is over. You’ve got some good shots, and you’re sure you’ll be seeing the results in a few months.

For now you could go home and cuddle iwht your babies.

******************************

A brunch is always an event with you’re with your friends. You’re in a fancy restaurant and having adult conversations with the people you love. It’s been months and maybe even a year since you’ve seen some of the beautiful faces. All of you are at different points in your careers and life and it’s exciting being able to catch up. Wanda Maximoff, a punk rock star, and actress has just ordered her first drink of the morning. You’ve been friends with her since childhood when she played your best friend on your breakout tv show Better Days. Monica Rambeau is a college friend and celebrity hairstylist so you see her quite often. Carol Danvers is a celebrity fitness instructor. Maria Hill is currently a top exec at Netflix. Your lives all surround the entertainment industry though it’s often the last thing on your minds when you meet.

Today the topic is sleazy men and dating. Something you can’t quite add to as you’ve been out of the dating game for six years now. You listen and add input whenever someone questions you but overall you’re happy to be there.

“I think Vis is going to pop the question,” Wanda confesses and you all look at her. She traces a ring around the rim of her cup.

“Why don’t you sound happy about that?” You ask. You know Wanda’s moods and you know her like the back of your hand. You thought she would be more enthusiastic about it. All eyes are on her now as you wait for her to answer.

“I don’t know,” Wanda frowns. “I just don’t think we’re at that point yet. I thought dating older men things would be different. We’ve been together for two years now. I haven’t really thought about marriage to him. Which says something right?” She looks to you for answers and you weigh the options. “I have been struggling with it for a while. He has been hinting at it and I just…I can’t for the life of me understand why it doesn’t make me happy. I want a married life. Kids, a family, nice house. I do love him. I do.”

“I think your feelings are valid,” Carol nods. “Have you ever sat down with him and talked through how you’re feeling?” She steals a fry from Monica’s plate.

They all go over various reasons for Wanda’s hesitance. You on the other hand don’t say anything. That is until she asks.

“Y/n, what do you think?” She waits patiently for you to speak. You would rather not in case she’s not ready for your analysis.

“Wanda,” You start off slowly. “I have watched you with Vision for a while. He’s a great man. Lovely producer. I’ve also watched you with several other men in the past.”

“You’re calling me a whore?” Wanda raises a brow.

“In so many words she kind of did,” Maria sips from her cup. The rest of the group laughs.

“No, no, I’m not calling you anything,” You point the finger at Maria. “I am saying I’ve seen you with men and you never seem as happy with them as you could be. There’s always something holding you back. Which could be a fear of commitment on your end or I know you dabbled a bit in college but have you ever considered that you may actually be attracted to women.”

There’s a moment of silence as everyone takes your words into consideration. That is possible.

“I don’t know if it’s a fear of commitment,” Wanda shrugs. “Maybe we can talk a bit more about the second thing at a later date? I don’t think that’s something I can explore like now.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” You promise. “For now think about whether or not you want a life with Vision and how you want that life to go. We’ll be here either way.”

“Amen,” Monica raised her glass. “Now, about this party. Y/n what should I wear?”

“The party is in two days and you don’t have an outfit?” Your mouth drops open. “Monica what are we going to do with you.”

“Buy me an outfit,” Monica quips.

Brunch with friends turned into shopping with friends and you found yourself an outfit that might be better than the one you chose. You spend time with Natasha and the girls and everything is alright at home. Life is good for you.

On the other side of town, a series of tweets by Carissa is put out into the world.

@Wildelover04: Y/n and Natasha are hosting their annual summer party in a few days. I can’t wait to see everything.

@Wildelover04: Just got a new gig for this week. Can you guess what it is?

@Wildlover04: I’ve met y/n again and she was so lovely. Rose and Natasha are adorable too.

*** added is a picture of Natasha and Rose with their backs turned at IHOP.*****

[lambtotheslaughterr]

Summit : Chapter Two

A Ransom Drysdale Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.3k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

CHAPTER ONE | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER THREE

all AI images are created from prompts i wrote. they are not real images.

            A sharp pain woke you from your deep slumber. You blinked your eyes open & moved to sit up groggily. As you did, your eyes began to blearily take in your surroundings. You were in a bedroom. It was an extravagant one at that, too. With large windows that let in the summer sun, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves piled with antique appearing books, & finely crafted wooden furniture placed throughout the room.

            Before you could react to your sudden change in environment though, you winced again as your hand pulsed under the covers. Pushing the covers down, you revealed your hand, noting how it was bandaged & wrapped.

            The snake.

            That’s right, you had been bitten. But all you could remember after being bitten was rushing back to your campsite & the vague memory of panicking. Inspecting the bandage of your hand, you felt yourself frowning.

            Who…?

            Before you could finish the thought, the door to the bedroom opened, revealing a man in his 30’s as he entered the room. His eyes fell to you, a mixed look of surprise & relief on his face.

            Instincts took over & you found yourself launching out of the bed, across to the opposite side of the room from him as he closed the door.

            “Hey, hey… you’re okay.” He held up his hands in reassurance but you felt very little reassured.

            When he took a step further into the room, you jolted backwards, knocking painfully into a dresser as decorative objects fell over & clattered on top of the dresser.

            “I’m not going to hurt you.” He told you, his voice even & soft.

            But you ignored him, pressing yourself against the wall as you felt blindly behind you for the window. When you felt the cool touch of glass against your fingertips, you spun around to look for a way to open the window & jump free. But your escape attempt was thwarted when the window proved to only be a set of panes with no access to open them.

            Spinning back around, knowing having your back to a potential threat would work against you, you spotted that one of the decorative objects that fell over was a metal statue of a man, about two times larger than your own hand. Snatching it, you brought the head of the statue down against the edge of the dresser, causing the head to snap off, ultimately leaving a jagged edge that could do enough damage against the man should he choose to attack.

            “Whoa! Okay, hey, hey!” He held up his hands higher when he saw you raise the makeshift weapon. “You need to calm down. If you raise your blood-pressure you’re only going to make yourself sick.”

            But you ignored him, still holding the weapon up towards him in defense as you shifted along the edges of the room.

            “Look, okay, my name is Ransom. This is my family’s home. I found you in the woods. You were bitten by a copperhead & I brought you back here.” His eyes fell to your hand holding the weapon before returning to your own. His eyes were filled with concern as he stared at you wide-eyed. “You passed out & I supplied you with some antivenom but if you get your heart rate too elevated the anti-venom will work slower.”

            You had your teeth bared but glanced at your bandaged hand. It was a professional wrap, but that meant nothing. You didn’t know this man, didn’t know why he helped you or what he would expect in return, or even worse, if he had other insidious intentions.

            Thrusting the weapon his direction yet again, the man, Ransom, nodded in understanding, “Okay, okay. I’m not keeping you here. I just wanted to help. If you want to leave, you can leave. Your things are in a closet in the hallway.”

            You peered behind him towards the door. He followed your line of sight before looking back at you, nodding, “All I’ll say is you really shouldn’t be out there on your own until you’re fully recovered. You could have a negative reaction to the serum. Let me help you.”

            You felt your body shaking with adrenaline & as your eyes glanced rapidly back & forth between Ransom & the door, you felt your vision begin to swim. Then, without your consent, you felt your knees buckle. You managed to catch yourself on a nearby chair & forced yourself to stand.

            “Please, you’re overdoing it. Your body is already trying to collapse.”

            Ransom glanced concerningly at your body as you felt it shake beneath you. He was right, at least in that regard. You could feel your strength & energy quickly depleting.

            “What’s your name?”

            But you pressed your lips together, narrowing your eyes towards him, grunting in response.

            “Okay.” He gave a brief apologetic smile before frowning, “No names. Got it.”

            He swallowed & you saw his Adam’s apple bob as he did. Ransom than pointed at the weapon you held, “Just take a seat, right there is fine. I’ll get you some water & food. I promise you, I’m just trying to help.”

            That didn’t matter though, you needed to leave as soon as possible. You’d have to take your chances back out in the woods. As far away from him as possible.

            Ransom began to back away, back towards the door. When he opened it, his eyes never left yours, “I’ll be two minutes. Please, just…wait.”

            He left the door open as he left, & you waited for a moment, listening as his footfalls carried further away. You took that opportunity to run towards the door. Bursting into the hallway, your weapon still gripped tightly in your hand, you looked down either end. There were an endless amount of doors, causing your dizziness to worsen.

            You rushed to the nearest door & opened it. Just another room. Then you moved to the next. A bathroom.

            As you opened another door, you braced yourself against the doorframe, your vision beginning to sway harshly. Your heart was racing & sweat began to form on your upper lip.

            Damnit! You’d have to leave without your things. At least for now.

            Running as quietly as possible down the hallway, you came to the top of a grand staircase. But just as you made to move down them, you saw Ransom at the bottom of them. He held a tray in his hands.

            “Hey, I told you—”

            But before he could finish his sentence, you scrambled down the staircase, intentionally knocking him, shoving him against the wall. Launching off the last set of steps, you raced towards the front door & swung it open, the door slamming against the wall. You burst outside & ambled down the porch steps & began to race forward. However, you didn’t get very far as the sudden change in brightness blinded you & you felt your feet begin to tangle as your energy disappeared.

            The weapon fell from your hands & you along with it. Falling to your knees, you felt your heart pulsing rapidly within your chest. You attempted to crawl but your arms gave out next as you did.

            A frustrated groan left your lips as you gritted your teeth against one another, willing strength back into your body, but it never returned. Rolling onto your back, you stared up at the blaringly bright sun, the heat overwhelming you.

            Footfalls sounded & you blinked rapidly as Ransom appeared above you. A needle in his mouth as he shifted you into his lap.

            “I told you to stay calm.” He breathed out as he moved the needle towards the ditch of your arm.

            “This will make you feel better.” His eyes met your own as the lining of your vision began to blur, “I promise. And when you wake up, we’ll try again.”

            You felt a pinch in the ditch of your arm & winced slightly but immediately felt yourself begin to calm down. Your head lolled back, but Ransom caught your neck to hold you hope. He rubbed his hand over your hair, peering down at you as if he feared greatly for your well-being.

            It was the last thing you saw before you passed out.

            The sound of music lulled you awake. You frowned in your sleep before opening your eyes. What A Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong sounded from far away but it was there. It was real. You leaned up but didn’t get far when you discovered your wrists tied to the bed posts.

            Panicked breaths escaped you as you tugged on your restraints.

            “Hey, hey!” Ransom appeared in the doorway & rushed forward.

            You attempted to scoot away from him but were unable to go far due to the leather biting into your skin.

            “Sorry ‘bout this.” He placed one knee on the bed as he undid your restraints. They had been done with belts. “You were having fits in your sleep, clawing at yourself.”

            You angled your body as far as possible away from him as he finished undoing the restraints.

            “I swear, I’m not trying to keep you here.” He noted how you backed as far away form him so he mirrored you, stepping a few feet away, “You collapsed in the front yard. I had to bring you back up here.”

            You rubbed at your wrists, glaring towards him.

            He offered a half-hearted smile before reaching for a mug on the nightstand beside the bed, “It’s tea. Caffeine-free.”

            You only kept staring at him, ignoring the mug he held out to you.

            “Okay, that’s okay.” He placed the mug back down before moving to sit in a chair nearby.

            “How are you feeling?”

            Your lips shook as you watched him warily, briefly eyeing the open door. You were closer to it then he was.

            “Like I said,” he began, “you can leave, but I can’t guarantee you won’t pass out again out there. If you give it just another 24 hours you should be in good shape to leave.”

            Your brows furrowed. You wouldn’t be quick to trust him despite his helpful intentions.

            “And, oh, yeah, I brought these for you.” He stood up & reached for something on the floor at the foot of the bed. He raised up your backpack & personal items.

            Rushing forward, you snatched your things from him & clung them to your chest before crawling backwards to the headboard.

            “I know you probably don’t trust me, shit, I wouldn’t trust me either if I was you.” He chuckled lightly, standing with his hands in his pockets.

            When he noticed your look of worry on your face, he shook his head rapidly though, “Not like that. I just mean, I don’t know your story, what you’ve dealt with out there. Plus, you’re a woman. A world like this isn’t really meant to be gentle towards someone like you.”

            You continued to not say anything, like you had for the last three or so years.

            “So, anyway.” Ransom backed up & resumed his spot on the chair, “How are you feeling?”

            You pressed your lips together, answering in your head.

            You felt…fine. Better than before. Your hand still ached but not as bad as it had before.

            “You don’t want to talk, that’s fine.” Ransom leaned back & eyed the window.

            You took that opportunity to the eye the door, though your focus was on the music playing in the distance. How was there music?

            Grunting, you gained his attention before gesturing towards the door.

            “Hmm?” He gave you a questioning look.

            This would be frustrating for you.

            Using your hands, you signed to him about the music playing. Ransom watched your hands, a frown appearing on his face.

            “Oh…you’re deaf. I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” He sighed.

            You shook your head, biting your lip.

            With your hands, you mimicked writing.

            “Right, right!” Ransom stood from his spot & began searching the drawers of the only dresser in the room.

            He found a pad of paper & pen before placing them at the foot of the bed.

            Once he stepped away, you leaned forward & grabbed the pad & pen.

            Music?

            You turned the pad over so he could read it.

            Ransom’s eyes flashed to yours.

            “You can hear it? But I thought…”

            You quickly wrote again.

            Mute, not deaf.

            “Right.” Ransom cleared his throat before nodding, “Yeah, it’s a record player. Belonged to my grandfather. Want me to roll it in here? I try not to listen to music too often, might draw unwanted attention.”

            No. You have electricity?

            His eyes read the words. “Mhm. I mean, it’s a generator in the basement. Again, try not to use it often. But it means I can make you some food. Real food. Not the survival shit you have in your bag.”

            That gave you pause. He looked through your things?

            Ransom noted your hesitation, “I was just curious.”

            You hummed in response.

            “Anyway,” Ransom moved towards the door, “Ya hungry? I can make you something.”

            Your stomach growled in response at the thought of something real. It had been so long since you’ve had a genuine meal.”

            “You can come with, if you want.” Ransom smiled softly, “So you know I’m not doing anything weird.”

            Biting your lip, you turned back to the pad in your hands.

            Don’t try anything stupid.

            Ransom laughed at that but nodded, “Scout’s honor.”

            Slowly, you moved off the bed but didn’t take a step forward until Ransom exited the room & waited in the hallway.

            Bringing along the pad & pen, you quickly wrote.

            You first.

            “Right.”

            Ransom led the way as he led you down the same hallway as before. You kept at least six feet between the two of you as he walked towards the stairs. Your eyes were watching his back the whole time.

            At the bottom of the stairs, you were in the foyer you had ran through once before. Much like the bedroom, the foyer was beautiful. From what little you had seen of the house so far, it was an extravagant home. You briefly recalled Ransom saying it was his family’s home. As he led you through the foyer, you thought that he must’ve been well-off before the world ended. Much unlike yourself.

            Ransom brought you into the kitchen & you paused in the doorway as he moved towards a door in the corner. As he opened it, you eyed the space ahead of him. It was a pantry bigger than your room back on the farm.

            Well-off indeed.

            “What are you in the mood for?” Ransom asked over his shoulder as he began grabbing random food items. You watched in mild curiosity as he began placing boxes & bags of options on the island.

            “Chips & cereal will be stale but I’m sure it’s better than what you’ve had.” He commented as he kept grabbing things, “Got some unopened noodles. I could make you alfredo or spaghetti, without the meat, of course.”

            You stepped further into the kitchen, eyeing all of your choices. Your stomach twisted at the sight.

            “I have some fruits & vegetables in the garden, too, if you want a salad.”

            Oh?

            Turning over the pad, you wrote.

            Garden?

            Ransom smirked, “Yeah, out the door here.”

            He moved towards a set of double doors & opened them. You waited until he stepped out before you followed after him. An intrusive thought filled your mind then, about locking him out of his own home, but he knew this place far better than you. Knew of other entry points, perhaps had keys hidden outside. Attempting to lock him out would only upset him. You needed to play this safe until you could leave. If he made good on his promise.

            Stepping outside, you were greeted by a magnificent garden.

            “That’s the greenhouse over there.” Ransom pointed at the only building in the backyard, “Want a salad?” He looked back at you.

            You simply nodded.

            “Alright, well, go ahead & take a seat inside, or come with, up to you. I’ll be two minutes.”

            You did neither, just remained standing where you were as Ransom traversed through the garden to the greenhouse. You took that opportunity to rush back inside & begin throwing open drawers. Your things had been left upstairs. You needed a weapon in case he returned with his own.

            Fortunately, you found a heavy-duty tenderizer. Gripping it, you moved towards a stool perched beside the island & sat down, the mallet on your lap. Ransom appeared a few moments later, his hands holding a plastic bag filled with garden goods.

            “All I have is Caesar for dressing, I hope that’s good enough.”

            You offered an agreeable smile.

            Ransom got to work then, whipping up a salad. You watched him acutely, ensuring he didn’t slip anything questionable into the mix. But as far as you could tell, he was simply making a generic salad, no funny business added.

            As he focused on the salad, your eyes slipped to the pantry goods on the counter near you. Your eyes fell onto a box of granola bars. Snatching the box, you tore into a wrapper & brought the bar to your mouth. It was indeed stale, no longer chewable, but the flavor was better than anything you’d had in the last two years.

            You ripped open another one.

            Ransom glanced over his shoulder & laughed lightly, “Good. I’m glad you’re eating.”

            You stopped chewing like a wild animal at that, swallowing what was left in your mouth. Scribbling onto the pad of paper, you slapped the countertop to steal his attention.

            Water?

            “Yeah, of course.” He moved back to the pantry, bending at the waist to lift up a 40 flat of water.

            Your eyes widened. You had been fortunate enough to have had access to water quite easily in your travels, but bottled water was another thing.

            Against your better judgement, you leaped forward to snag a few bottles, but the tenderizer in your lap fell to the floor with a resounding clang.

            Both you & Ransom paused. His eyes fell to the tool.

            Before he could react, you quickly bent down & grabbed the weapon, holding it up towards him in defense.

            “Oh, fuck, not this again.” He sighed & backed up, holding his hands up, “I’m not gonna do anything, alright? All I’ve done is help you.”

            You narrowed your eyes, the tenderizer in your hand lowering slightly.

            “Hold it, keep it, I don’t care!” He told you frustratingly, “But I’m gonna finish making your food so can you at least not fuckin’ jump me when I have my back turned.”

            Lowering the weapon entirely, you sat back down but kept it in your lap.

            “Okay…” He sighed relieved. “Here.”

            He tossed you a water bottle & you were quick to catch it.

            Ransom gave you a distrustful glance before returning back to the salad, though this time he moved the bowl & chopping board to the island so he could face you.

            “You’re a little jumpier than I’d like.” He commented, referring to his change in positioning, “While I understand, I also don’t want to get taken out by a little thing like you. That’d be embarrassing.”

            Unscrewing the cap of the water bottle, you chugged the contents, emptying it out within seconds. Then you reached for another & did it a second time.

            Ransom nodded, “Good. Drink as much as you’d like. There’s plenty more where that came from.”

            After emptying the second one, you tossed the empty bottle away from you. Ransom watched the plastic bounce across the counter before rolling off the edge.

            “There’s a garbage, ya know.”

            But you only watched him silently.

            You couldn’t afford to be too polite despite his help.

            He sighed, moving to pick up the plastic before shoving open a built in garbage within one of the bottom cupboards.

            “Here.” He gestured to the cupboard, “Garbage.”

            He threw the bottle in before shutting it, returning to the salad.

            As you watched him, you could see that he was tense, likely irritable because of you.

            Swallowing your distrust, if only for a moment, you scribbled once more on the pad of paper.

            Thank you.

            Ransom’s energy softened as he read the words. His eyes met yours.

            “You’re welcome.”

            It was nightfall & you were alone in the bedroom Ransom had you set up in.

            He had turned the generator off before sunset, not wanting any source of electricity to be obvious in the dark woods.

            So, with the heavy curtains drawn & a few candles lit, you stood on the chair in your room to eye the plethora amount of books on the built-in bookcase. As you fingered a few of them, the door to your room opened. You quickly got down from your perch & faced Ransom as he entered the room, holding a few folded clothes.

            “In the morning, you can bathe if you want. There’s a well on the property that I can get some water from, heat it up & fill the tub for you. But until then, here’s a change of clothes.” He placed them on your bed, “If you want. They were my mother’s.”

            You eyed the clothes before meeting his eyes.

            You signed your thanks to him.

            “That ‘thank you’?” He guessed correctly.

            You nodded.

            “How do you say, ‘you’re welcome’?”

            Memories of the woman on the run flashed through your mind. How do you say, ‘thank you’? she had asked. Now, this strange man, who had thus far upheld his promise of helping you, asked how to say, ‘you’re welcome’.

            You signed to him.

            He repeated the movement.

            “Cool.” He offered a small smile, “Well, sleep well. And like I said, if you want to leave tomorrow, you’re free to. Have a good night.”

            He made to leave the room, his hand on the door to close it behind him, but before he did, he paused, looking back at you once more.

            “Oh, & sometimes the house makes noises at night. It’s old. Just thought you should know so you don’t go Rambo in the middle of the night.”

            For the first time in a long, long time, you laughed once in response.

            Ransom smiled at that, “Alright. Oh, & this,” he swung the door slightly, “locks, by the way, so. If you want.”

            You nodded, relieved for the information.

            “Goodnight.”

            Then he shut the door.

            You listened as his footfalls carried away before crossing the room to lock the door.

            Inhaling deeply, you then approached the bed & eyed the folded clothing. As grateful as you could afford to be towards Ransom, you ultimately moved the clothes off & put them on the dresser, choosing to sleep in your two day old clothes. You had slept in clothes that you had worn for longer before.

            Crawling into bed, you reached for your backpack on the other side of the bed & pulled out Blood of the Lamb. You were only a quarter of the way through it, but it was about your fourth or fifth time reading it. It was your comfort novel.

            Opening up the pages to where you left off, you shifted to get comfortable when something hard pressed into your hip. You had forgotten you placed the tenderizer there. Moving it out from under you, you then placed it under your pillow. Though Ransom had proved to be as trustworthy as he could be, the night often brought out the dark in others. You wouldn’t take any chances. And despite his passive offer for you to stay, you would be leaving in the morning.

            Getting ridiculously comfortable under the covers, you brought the book to your face & read the words closely. But as you turned over the next page, you began to feel your eyes flutter close. Before you knew it, your first night of decent sleep came for you. And you slept soundlessly through the night.

            In the morning, Ransom already had the bath ready for you. You signed your thanks to him & took the bath, nearly falling asleep again as you lied in the tub, admiring how the sun cast itself through the windows of the bathroom. But when he knocked on the door about an hour later to check on you, you forced yourself to get out & get dressed in your own clothes.

            Now, an hour later, you found yourself standing in front of Ransom’s family home. He stood on the porch as you faced him from the front yard.

            “If you change your mind,” he began, “I’ll be here. Been here since the beginning, don’t plan on leaving.”

            You nodded, signing your thanks.

            He signed back.

            “Be safe, okay? And try not to get bit again.”

            You smiled small at that.

            “But if you do, I put a bite kit & anti-serum in your bag. Hopefully you won’t need it.”

            Nodding, you began to walk away but before you could, he hollered after you.

            “And this.” He ambled down the stairs, a box in his hands.

            You took a few steps back & he stopped immediately before holding up the box. It was the box of granola bars.

            “Not really big on granola, myself, so.” He wiggled the box.

            Trusting him for the last time, you closed the distance between the two of you, accepting the box. Ransom backed up once you had. And you were thankful for it.

            “Good luck.”

            Quickly finding a place for the bars in your backpack, you swung it onto your back & nodded once, signing ‘you, too’ back to him, though he wouldn’t understand.

            Then you departed. As you reached the tree line, you turned back to face Ransom & his extravagant family home. He remained standing where you left him.

            He waved once.

            You returned it.

            Then you disappeared, back into the jaws of the apocalypse.

chapter two!

as always, share your thoughts w me via commenting, reblogging w reviews, or dropping an ask. i live for them.

thank you for reading!

oona<3

Read this post on why doing more than liking a tumblr writers work is essential to our content creation.

[my love language is words of affirmation, it would make my day if you could comment your thoughts, reblog with tags, or drop an ask that shows your support. thank you for reading tumblr writers, we appreciate you]

taglist:

to be added to a taglist read rule 11 here. requests will be dismissed otherwise.

[kingkatsuki]

Just thinking about those soft, mundane moments with Bakugou.

[weaselle]

it was too much i had to make my own post

line cook here. ACCURATE

if you don't get the hate, here's what you don't understand.

it takes up to 2 hours to close down the kitchen.

The last 60-90 minutes before closing time you do almost no cooking because the restaurant doesn't have many people in it and you've already cooked most of their diners.

So if someone walks in during, like, the last hour, the cook is in the middle of an industrial deep clean of the kitchen.

(these numbers can vary quite a bit from place to place but i have worked several restaurants with these actual times and the concept remains the same)

Say the place closes at 10. If you wait til the restaurant is already closed to start all your cleaning duties, you'll be there until at least midnight.

More than that your boss knows that on an average night you can start your clean up as soon as the last rush ends and get out of there around 10:45, even 10:15 on a slow night if you get lucky. That means there are plenty of restaurants where if you do take until midnight the manager is going to come up to you at some point that week and ask you what went wrong that night, and you'd better have an answer.

So this example restaurant closes at 10 pm. The dinner rush ends around 8:30, and shortly after that the cook is going to start getting every single dish possible over to the dishwasher because the dishwasher always gets hit hard and late, and the machine runs for 2 full minutes and only holds so many dishes, so the way that works out is if you wait an extra 30 minutes to give the dishwasher all your stuff it can mean adding like 60 minutes to the end of his shift. And you're gonna KEEP finding shit to send to the dishpit right up until you leave probably.

all these little square and rectangle containers in this cold table have to be pulled out and changed over into new containers, replaced by new full ones, or in some cases filled from larger containers in the back, which can result in even more empty containers to send to the dishwasher.

while it's all pulled apart to do this, you have to clean up all the spilled food and sauce and juices and stuff from the joints and ledges and shelves and drip trays

Once you get your line changed over in this way, and fully stocked, anytime someone orders something that makes use of a bunch of that stuff, you have to restock and re-clean it some. It might already be covered in plastic. Some of it might already be stuck in the back to make room to take apart your cutting board counter to clean. To cook a dish isn't TOO much of a problem at this point, but you're really hoping for zero orders because you still have so much other cleaning to do.

Meanwhile the salad bar and appetizer section and server station and everybody are all doing the same thing. Even the bartenders are stocking olives and lemons and sending back whisks and stir spoons and shakers and empty 4quart storage containers that used to hold the back-up lemons and olives and things. Every section is dumping their must-be-cleaneds to the dishpit as fast as possible because early and fast is the only thing they can do to to help that dishpit not absolutely drown into overtime.

The poor dishwasher is always the last to clock out, soaking wet and exhausted.

Around this time you probably scrub the flat top, which has turned black from cooked on grease and is still about 500 degrees. Line cooks are divided in opinion on water-based or oil based cleaning methods for this, but they all involve scrubbing with (usually) a brick of pumice stone using every ounce of your strength while you try not to burn yourself

you scrub it from fully blackened to gleaming silver and now if somebody orders something that needs the flat top to cook, you can either fuck up your cleaning job or fake it in a couple frying pans and pass that tiny fuck you down to your dishwasher (who usually understands, especially if you help them take the garbage out or clean your own floor drain later)

If there's deep fried stuff on the menu then the fryers have to be cleaned out, which includes straining the oil out into enormous and super-heavy pots full of oil so hot that if you spill on yourself then it's probably a hospital visit and if you slip and fall face first into it it'll be the last thing you ever do.

Then you gotta scrub out the fryer. Like you gotta take the (hot) screen out and reach your arm down into the weird rounded pipes and curved areas (so hot, burn you if you brush against them hot) and scrub off whatever is down there

Depending on your kitchen you might have to do up to four of these. Then you'll have to pour the (dangerously hot) oil back in

oh, and if you didn't dry the pipes and get ALL the water out of the trap and tank?

water reacts with hot oil in a sort of mentos and coke way that can send a tidal wave of oil past the open flame of the pilot light ...HUGE dangerous mess and/or burn down the kitchen if the oil lights up.

Unless! If the oil has been used too hard and needs to be changed, it's time to carry those open topped super heavy pots full of will-kill-you-hot oil and dump them in the barrel outside by the dumpsters so you can put room temp fresh oil in the fryers. whew!

The clean up is not just some light wiping down that can be easily interrupted, is what i'm saying.

You might have to do some kind of walk-in duty (moving around 50lb cases of lettuce and 50lb bags of onions to get to the stacks of five gallon buckets full of salad dressings and sauces to move so you can reach the giant metal pots and bus tubs full of prep and get it all organized and make sure it's all labeled and i have to stop now i'm having flashbacks)

THE POINT IS

by 15 or however many minutes to close, the line cook is doing an intense deep clean and probably has the whole stove taken apart to detail.

For some industrial stoves this means lifting off large cast iron plates that weigh like 20 lbs each and are still quite hot. Whatever metal burners are on there, you gotta take off and clean, you can see here the lines that indicate the large thick cast iron rectangles that sit on top of the burners to allow heavy pots to rest on. Those five (each has one front burner hole and one back burner hole, see?) have to be lifted off and cleaned with soap and a wire brush usually, and then the underneath area also has to be cleaned because a lot of shit falls through the burner holes on a busy night.

if you didn't do it when you did the flat top you have to do the grease trap (which can be like a full five minutes and is always disgusting).. You gotta clean out all the little gas jets in each burner with a wire or something so the burners all flame evenly, and sometimes you have to remove some of the natural gas piping that connects the burners to access where you have to clean.

you gotta clean out the bottom of the oven and the wire racks, and, oh gods, you gotta take down the filter vents from the hood fans above the stove.

See all the lined parts along the top of the wall?

those are hood vents, and as they pull air up they also pull a lot of grease and they have to be taken down and cleaned, then you gotta climb up there and scrub where they go before you put them back...

And then there's the mopping and floor drains and...

Anyway, that's what the line cook is doing when you walk in fifteen minutes before closing and order something that needs to be cooked on that stove. They are doing an entire industrial cleaning of a professional kitchen.

In some restaurants maybe one or two of these jobs will be every other night or even only twice a week, but in many, possibly most kitchens, ALL of these things happen EVERY night. You don't want to leave any food mess that might attract insects or rodents for one thing, so a really good kitchen is as close to brand new as you can get it every night.

IF YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO ORDER SOMETHING ANYWAY, HERE IS WHAT TO DO

open with an apology and ask the server to go ask what the cook would prefer you to order.

Any good server will already know what the cook is hoping for and what will make their line cook go into the walk in and scream. If it's significantly less than an hour to close and they say some variant of "oh anything is fine" they are either telling the lie their boss wants them to say, or they actually do not know what their line cook wants, and you can either use human connection and a conspiratorial just-between-us tone to get them to drop the customer-is-always-right act, or get them to actually go ask the cook.

It might be as specific as "the lasagna is easiest on the kitchen" or it might be a simple guideline like "nothing that requires the flat top" or "any of the sautés are easy" but a good line cook will probably have a system for if they have to make a couple of the most popular items after they start their close, so the answer is likely to include something most people like and you should be good to order that.

but for the love of all that's holy, please only do so at great need. Leave that last 30-60 minutes to the truly desperate and the crew's duties.

[nerdie-faerie]

This has got to be the worst move out yet

[maldito-arbol]

Me: I can finish chapter 11 by my birthday

Also me: *is only halfway finished with chapter 11*

No you can’t Mal

[hoboclown]

missing my old manager of "you did good today i think you have a really bright future" and "you know weed messes up your sleep right" fame

[kamitv]

could you write about who you think are the most touch/affection-starved of the jjk boys? the thought of them crumbling at the slightest touch and savoring every second with us makes me 🥴🥴🥴

▷ Delicate

Sypnosis . Men who fold under your touch. / Pairings . (Separate) Nanami x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Ino x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, established relationships, fluff, begging men, sensitive men, soft sex, filth, dirty talk, etc. / wc . 4.8k

A/N: Grieving over the loss of my man right now-- Gege I hate you and the air that you breathe. This was going to include more men but due to the loss of my lover, my mood was ruined and I couldn’t finish what I had for the others… Anyway, not proof-read, hope you enjoy! ^.^ [MDNI]

★ Nanami Kento

While it may be a bit... unexpected, yes, Nanami is sensitive to your touch. Each one lingers on his skin, seeps through his clothing, and tattoos itself onto him.

He's a very stoic and, usually, stern man but when it comes to you, he's almost like putty under your touch. It's intoxicating really, the way you're always caressing his arms, grabbing his hand to hold when the two of you walk or even during sex.

You're quite the touchy woman and Nanami can't say he doesn't love that about you.

When he comes home after a long day of work, you'd rush to the door to greet him, dressed in your comfort clothes from head to toe with that bright smile of yours latched to your face. Your hands are on him instantly, helping him rid himself of his coat, his tie, hell, even his shoes sometimes if you're feeling enthusiastic enough.

It's cute really. The way you help him undress as soon as he steps into the house, asking him how his day was and reciprocating with a not-so-eventful tale of your day. He's listening to your every word though, hanging off every syllable even, but you don't notice it.

Even as you guide him toward the kitchen to show him a surprise dinner you'd whipped up, you're rambling about something concerning your cooking process and he's hearing every word but, the way your fingers slip down his arms, curl around his wrist to pull him along, release him and then press into his chest to stop him from walking-- it was truly alluring.

Nanami swears he wasn't always this sensitive to touch. He doesn't know why exactly his heart swells in while you keep your hand flat on his chest, your attention on some nearby pot as you continue to talk.

You were explaining something but he'd stopped listening, his eyes all over the side of your face and soon trailing to your arm, and then to the hand you've got on him.

Nanami's hand would be moving before he even realizes, slipping so gracefully to your wrist and moving your hand off of him just to lean down a bit and plant a loving kiss across your knuckles.

"And then I almost-," His sudden kiss would make your brain freeze, head whirling in his direction to see your husband planting peck after peck before he shifts your hand to cup the side of his face and then meets your gaze.

Those gentle brown eyes of his would be so sappy and soft with you, filled with a love you can hardly comprehend as he rests his head against your palm, grinning at you. What a handsome man you've married.

You couldn't be happier as you look at him, even with the sigh that leaves you, "Kento..."

His brows would raise ever so slightly, "Hm?"

"Did you hear anything I just said?" You'd huff out. And there's this slight frustration in your voice but he loves it anyway, completely and utterly smitten for you no matter the situation.

Nanami nods, just barely, before turning his head and kissing the inside of your palm, "Mhm," He hums casually, "You were telling me how you almost burned our kitchen down."

"Yes, and..." Your eyes narrow at the man, watching how he just kisses and kisses your palm, almost as though he couldn't pull himself away, "Ken..." Your hand slips a bit and you caress his face, "Are you okay?"

His hand, much veinier and larger than yours, would come up and cup yours over his face, "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Your touch is just so... soft."

That earns a smile from you, "Is it?" You'd giggle amid your question, eyes lowering at the man before you.

"Yes, it is," Nanami responds simply. Then he begins moving your hand to the side of his neck and his head tilts as he looks at you, stepping closer and closing the slight space between you and him, "I love how gentle it is, how loving, how caring."

"Oh?" Your smile widens and you move your other hand away from the, now forgotten, pot and it goes toward the buttons of his shirt, "Should I start touching you more then?"

"I implore you to, yes," Nanami huffs out, his body leaning toward yours.

You bring your lower lip into your mouth and tip your head a bit, one hand toying with the buttons of his shirt and the other caressing the side of his neck, "Since when has my touch had you this... pleading," You question, words coming out slow as his eyes drop to your lips.

Your husband takes his other hand and grabs a careful hold onto your wrist, dragging your hand further down his body and making you feel against his abs through his clothing as he leans closer to you. His free hand then moves to your waist and he tugs you to him, closing any and all space left.

"Always," Nanami confesses to you, "Your touch makes me weak, sweetheart." He explains with that gentle yet deep voice of his, always so soft when speaking to you.

You smile, "Weak?"

"Yes, weak," Nanami whispers in agreement with a steady nod of his head, eyes doting on every aspect of your facial expression.

The man was so in love and his poured out of his every gaze, brown eyes lingering on your lips long enough to silently tell you what he wanted. So, your hand steadily undoes the first button on his shirt, moving your other hand from his neck to assist yourself.

Your eyes on his the entire time, you unbutton at least four buttons before taking a finger and grazing his bare chest, watching how his breathing stutters from something so light.

Smiling, "This, Kento..." Your voice is small in a sultry whisper as you drag your finger down and down until you pass his torso and reach the hem of his pants, "This makes you, weak?" You as tauntingly just before you begin unbuckling his belt.

His heart rate quickens and he swallows loud enough for you to hear, sighing as his head weighs to the side a little, "Hahh, yes, my love," Nanami tells you, face inclining down to your own.

Your gaze and his meet and the eye contact is heavy with tension, your fingers working his belt loose before you're teasing him by just barely unbuttoning his pants and making sure your fingers caress the area below his abdomen.

Nanami's lips twitch and so badly does he want to kiss you but he's too busy hanging off the slow words leaving your lips.

"Who would've thought?" You utter, smiling at your husband, "A serious man like you crumbling to your wife's small touches."

He tilts his head further and his lips are practically on yours as he speaks, "Small or not... they're touches from my wife." He emphasises just before giving you but a small peck on the lips.

You hum, "I suppose."

And then you're finally kissing him, lips molding into one another and his body melting to the feel of you. Oh how Nanami loves the way your lips part for his tongue to push through, the way you kiss him back with just as much passion as he approaches you with, and how warm and savory the inside of your mouth is.

Soft smacks emit from the two of your lips sliding over one another, your husband nipping at your lower lip and quick to kiss you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. Then his hands are grabbing a firm hold of your waist, silently telling you that you're his to hold and touch however he feels.

His fingers, large, veiny, and thick, feel you through the fabric of your top, unable to pry off of you once he's got you in his grasp.

Then, into your mouth so very lowly, h's grunting, "Undress me," Nanami orders as he slightly steps forward with you.

You step back accordingly and your hands are flying back up, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and feeling him up afterward as you start slipping the item off of his body.

"Like this? Hm?" You whisper back to him as his shirt hangs off of him, his hands gripping onto you tighter and tighter whilst he walks you backward and out of the kitchen.

His voice makes your knees weak as his mouth detaches from yours and drops to your neck while you move to finally get his slacks off, "Yes, like that. Good girl," Nanami praises against your neck, soft but hot kisses making you gasp.

With your voice all breathy and your feet and hands stumbling with the large eager man before you, "C'mon Ken, at least make it to the bedroom," You murmur, his pants loose on his hips as he bulge brushes against your front.

"I'm trying." He groans, breath simmering into the crook of your neck before his tongue is felt against you.

You can't help but giggle, "You're trying?"

"Yes," He huffs out, voice hinted with this tune you rarely hear from him too often.

You're walking back and back until you bump into a wall for a second, your bedroom door now to your right as Nanami marks up your neck messily. Then you snicker, "Mmmh, I like you like this, Kento," You comment, to which he sighs.

Then he's off your neck and moving you to walk backward into your bedroom, clearly no longer patient.

Cocking his head to the side, "Like what?" Nanami asks curiously.

You shrug and the back of your legs hit the front of your bed, "Desperate, almost," You hum, brows furrowing a bit.

Nanami helps you settle yourself onto the mattress completely before he's crawling on top of you, shrugging his shirt completely off of his body and revealing his full chiseled physique to you.

"Starved?" He asks, trying to find the word you were looking for.

You shake your head and then it comes to you, your arms wrapping around his neck and tugging him down to you before you whisper, "Craving."

Nanami gazes at you for a long moment, simply taking you in before nodding his head slowly, "Craving, yes." He agrees.

Then, another long press of his lips to yours is made and your legs are adjusted to wrap around his waist, Nanami wanting any and all parts of you on him now.

His lips shift to the left a little and he kisses the side of your mouth, then your cheek, and then he drops to your neck again, making you do nothing more than smile as his hands work to get your clothes off of you.

Your top is soon removed, bottoms followed soon after, all of which is discarded to the floor somewhere before Nanami's kissing you again and forcing your hands to be on him.

"Run your fingers through my hair," He murmurs, directing one of your hands to his blonde locks of hair. Then, he takes the other hand and moves it to wrap around his neck, "Scratch my back while I fuck you," Nanami whispers, works making your breathing unsteady while he suddenly grinds his hard cock down into you, "Try pushing me away when it becomes too much, I don't care, just want your hands on me, okay?"

His directions had you hot all over, pupils dilated already, breathing heavy from his constant kisses, and your hands quick to run along his tensed skin before you nod with an obedient, "Yes sir." Leaving you.

Nanami just barely smiles and you feel his heavy cock twitch against you, "What'd I tell you about that?"

"I don't remember," You whipser, your fingers slipping down from his hair to caress his jawline and then pulling his face closer to your own, "Remind me, sir."

There's a smile on his face as his lips finally near your own again, "You'll be the death of me one day." Nanami utters to you lovingly.

And maybe one day you will.

But tonight?

Tonight you are nothing more than a hole for him to fill as he soon grunts into your ear telling you how good your cunt feels around him, telling you how pretty you look taking his cock, and moaning out how much he loves the way you touch him.

★ Choso Kamo

You always knew he was sensitive to your touch. Look at him. No, literally, look at the man. He's not sensitive to everything but your touch is most definitely his weakness.

You once gave the man nothing more than a handjob and he was cumming all over the damn place. You're not sure if you've ever seen your boyfriend so... whiney.

Choso had his legs spread like a slut for you as you sat oh so prettily beside him, fingers wrapped around his cock and stroking him torturously slow. Your thumb would caress his bulging veins, fingers would twirl around his fat tip, tap and slip in between the slit of his cock, teasing him.

And since you were sitting beside him, your breasts would graze the side of his arm, making him flinch over and over. You had him so tense, so sweaty, so loud.

Choso didn't even know he could moan this much just from someone's hand. He's jerked himself off plenty of times but when you do it, it's like blood rushes to both his head and his cock, his vision would blur, and his breathing would grow unsteady.

Maybe it's because of how you had teased him beforehand, running your manicured nails along his inner thigh as the two of you tried to watch a movie together. Only for your hand to accidentally graze his dick, somehow groping him through his clothing and then turning to look at him.

That was when he began to sweat buckets, cock springing up under your palm at one measly little touch and his breath hitching.

Then he was whispering a gruff little, "Baby," Making you smile as you did nothing but innocently bat your lashes at him. To which he'd tip his head back against the couch and swallow, "Stop teasin'..."

You then scooted closer to him, your thigh touching his as your voice neared his ear, "I barely even touched you, Cho," You had whispered, watching how even in the dim lighting, his face grew red and he struggled to keep his composure.

Turning his head to you, Choso was quick to meet your eyes with a low and desperate gaze, lids dimming, brows tensing, and breathing heavy. "Then touch me more, please." He requested quietly, deep voice making your cunt jump with excitement.

You quickly switched hands so that you could turn your torso to him, which was when your breast pressed into his arm and your hand then moved to work his cock out.

And yes, in minutes he was cumming in your hand, making such an embarrassing mess of your fingers. Your hand was so soft, jerking his twitching cock off so perfectly.

Choso was groaning into the air like he couldn't control it, "H-Hahh, aagh, baby-, baby fuck, y-your ha-hahh, hand-," His voice... squeaks? as he says that last word, pitching so deliciously that you have to squeeze your thighs together as you watch him tense up yet again, "S-Shit, m'gonna cum again," Choso breathed out through gritted teeth.

He was so sexy all sensitive and tense for you, making you smile as you watched his face twist up and his eyes flicker every time you focused your palm on his tip.

"Again, Cho? You're makin' such a mess, baby," You coo softly, breath just barely hitting his ear and adding on to the numerous things he was feeling.

His head was spinning at this point and he couldn't stop himself from watching your, much smaller, hand jerk him off, from quick pulls and tugs to slow drags and caresses, to twisting and rolling-- Choso was both in a daze and high off of watching you stroke his aching cock.

God damn you knew how to use your hand. You knew where he was sensitive, knew what to do and how to do it.

His cock was wet with cum and your hand just slide up and down and up and down, the sloppy sound filling the entire space and adding onto his arousal. Cum was slipping in between your fingers, all down to his balls-- shit, he really did make a mess.

It was nasty but... he liked it that way.

"P-Princess, fuuck, please," His voice was cracking, breaking because of you, eyes tearing up as your hand only got faster and faster, "Fuck fuck, please d-don't stop." He pants out, head flying back against the couch as his thighs closed and opened, almost like he wanted it all to end and yet continue at the same time.

Watching him had your body hot, there was a pulse coming from in between your legs and you had half the urge to get down on your knees and just suck him off since he was being so damn whiney.

But at the same time, you couldn't stop your hand. Not when he was about to cum again, not when you were about to drag the sound you were looking for out of him.

"Y'like that, Cho?" Such a simple question you murmured to him and yet it broke him.

Nodding all needily and fucked out, "Yes baby, yesyesyes," He gasps, abs tensing as your hand just would stop. You wouldn't let up on him for even a second and it was killing him, "F-Fuck I like it s'much-, I like you- love you," He corrects, struggling and stumbling over all his words, "Love your fuckin' hand-"

His jaw drops and the groan that leaves him comes from deep within his throat, "Ohmygoddd, fuck," Oh he was babbling for you, thoughts whirling, voice cracking and high pitched with you.

Then his lips quivered and that's when that noice came out. Such a cute, whiney, and filthily obscene whimper slipped out of his mouth, eyes at the back of his damn skull as he came all over your hand again.

And you had the nerve to talk him through it, whispering sweet, "That's it baby," To him and making him pant and his breathing stutter, your hand still going.

Choso couldn't formulate proper sentences with you anymore, barely chanting an almost silent I love you over and over until your hand stopped and his dick finally calmed down.

★ Ino Takuma

Is this even surprising?

Of course your cute boyfriend Ino is sensitive and affectionate starved. Sometimes he tries to act like your touch doesn't faze him but the very second it leaves him, he's giving you these doe-eyes and moving to put your hand back on him.

And it's just perfect for him that you enjoy touching him a lot. You're almost always hugging him or grabbing his face to pull him in for a kiss and he loves it.

So whenever you're away for a few hours, his body aches for you. You'd have your nails done too so that was something he enjoyed feeling more than ever, loving how your fingernails would run through his hair as he laid on your thighs or even in between them, face stuffed into your cunt.

Either way, Ino loved your touches and yes he craves it when you're not around.

So whenever the two of you do meet up, you're always running up to him, throwing your arms up and around his neck, laughing and smiling about how much you missed him.

Then you'd always tug that beanie off of his head, telling him how much you enjoy it when his hair is out and teasing him about looking silly with the accessory on.

He'd shrug off your comment and then as soon as you turn away from him, his arms are draping around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder and crotch pressing into your ass.

Your body would freeze in place as you feel something familiarly hard poking at your ass, turning your head to your boyfriend who you've barely even touched so far and raising a brow at him, "Takuma..." You'd utter softly, earning a grin from him.

"Hm? Somethin' wrong?" He'd ask casually, as if there's not a painful boner in his pants all because you'd hugged him.

"You tell me," You tease, moving out of his hold and turning your body around to face your boyfriend as you cross your arms.

He quickly raises a hand to the back of his neck to scratch, chuckling nervously, "I'm not sure what y'want me to say?" He hums plauyfully.

You tilt your head and him and sigh before moving to point at his crotch, "How about you start with explaining that."

Ino's head drops to look at where you're pointing to, laughing as soon as he sees himself, "Oh, that. Yeah, no, that's uh, that's nothing, really-," His head lifts and you've gotten all close to him again, head angled upward slightly to meet his gaze and your stare making him swallow all his words down with a loud gulp.

Your hand then moves in almost slow motion and you place but a single finger to his chin, tipping his face down some more to get a good look at him and then smiling. "Y'know you can ask me to help you, right? I am your girlfriend, remember?" You whisper.

He starts nodding like he's hanging off of your words, eyes set on your lips and his breathing picked up just because you've got a finger on his chin. "M-Mhm, I uh," He blinks a few times to gather himself, "I know."

You smile and step even closer, your body just barely touching his, "Takuma," You whisper yet again, causing a shiver to slip down his spine.

He was so nervous because of you, "Lover," He hums back.

A chuckle slips past you, "Lover? That's cute."

"Y'like that one? I've been brainstormin' pet names recently," Ino tells you happily, his voice soft with you due to the lack of distance between you and him.

"Yeah, that one's cute," You whisper as your lips near his, "But uh, we're not just gonna skip past this," You emphasize as your hand palms at his erection, making his breath hitch.

Ino's brows tense and so does the rest of his body, "Y'gonna take care of it, baby?" He whispers to you, eyes softening at you as you peer up at him so tentatively.

"You want me to?" You utter back, batting your eyes at him and feeling on his cock through his clothing.

"Yeah," Ino nods out, to which you give him this look and he swallows, quick to correct himself, "Yes... please."

Smiling, "How do you want me to take care of it, hm? On my knees? With my hand?"

Ino barely knows how to even answer your question, it always makes him nervous when you take the lead, not that it doesn't happen often but most times anything sexual between you two just occurs mutually.

There's not always someone in the lead and it's usually just the two of you trying to make the other feel good. Which is enjoyable of course but when you're like this? Asking him what he wants and yet telling him what you're going to do through your gaze?

Oh he's almost the one on his knees for you.

Which is how you ended up later sitting behind your boyfriend, head peering over his shoulder and arms wrapped around him so that your pretty hands could work up and down his cock.

He hardly remembers how he got into this position with you or what he said for you to even want to do this but, here he was; face red, moans pouring out, hips bucking up into your touch, eyes lidded and struggling to keep up with watching the way your two hands groped and jerked at his cock perfectly.

Your fingers and his dick glistened with spit and precum, the sounds of you giving him the best handjob he could ever have asked for loud throughout the room.

"Oh baby," Ino whines out, eyes nearly shut as he tries his hardest not to squirm too much, "That feels so fuckin' good, holy shit."

"Yeah?" You smile, "My hands feel good?" The taunting behind your words made his cock throb in your hands, slim veins bulging against your palms and making you snicker.

Ino nods his head needly, "M-Mhmm, fuck-," He gasps, voice lagging behind as he tries his best to answer you properly.

You start kissing the side of his neck and he swears his head is spinning. He doesn't even know what to focus on at this point. Your hands on his cock? Your lips on the side of his neck? Your breasts pressed into his back?

It was all too much for him, making his knees bend just for his legs to extend out seconds later, his mouth just open with moans of your name and not-so-silent whines slipping out. Did he want it to go on forever or stop as soon as possible?

Fuck, and then there was you heavy breathing against him, almost as if you were aroused by this too-

Holy shit you were. You were probably soaked just because you're busy getting your boyfriend off using those pretty hands of yours. Ino's on cloud nine just thinking about how wet your cunt probably is, his moans getting louder and louder as second pass.

Up until he can't take it anymore and he moans your name, "B-Baby, fuck, needa' feel you, please."

"Hm?" You giggle softly, though it's noticeably more breathy than usual, "You are feelin' me though?" You point out as your hands tighten around his cock.

Ino's head rests back a bit and he pants, babbling out his desperations more clearly for you, "No baby, your pussy, come put it on me, please." He huffs out.

You cunt twitches at his words and you whisper his name, "Takuma...."

"Please?" Your boyfriend begs, gulping afterward to catch his breath for a moment, "J-Just... oh fuck, let me feel you, taste you, fuck you, anything baby, please?"

"Shit, okay, okay," Is the last thing you say before you too folded under pressure and moved.

Then you were on top of him, his eyes glossy as he watched you above him. Neither of you are sure which was more stimulating, you jerking him off or what you're doing now.

Which was rubbing nothing more than his tip against your slick hole, dragging him back and forth and back and forth in between your sopping folds. His tip was glazed in your arousal and his own, both of you moaning softly at the tease of it all.

It was somehow almost better than sex itself. You liked teasing him like this and he loved being teased. Ino was in a daze, trying his hardest not to cum at the sight of you forcing his needy cock against your pussy.

Your cunt looked so fucking delicious, so wet, so warm, he wanted to be inside you so bad and that's what was arousing him right now-- the temptation to just thrust his hips up into you and finally sink his inches deep inside you.

There was a light wet and sloppy sound that followed your languid movements, his cock slipping inside of you every now and then and making you practically start drooling for it.

It was taking everything in you not to just plop down and start bouncing on his cock like you normally would but when you looked at Ino's face and saw him panting and quietly whimpering-- you knew he was about to cum and you didn't want to stop.

Rocking your pussy over his tip over and over and over and over again until he was struggling to gasp for air, hissing out a cry of your name over and over, trying to warn you.

But instead of stopping, you whine, "C'mon, cum f'me," And then he is, and his cock is leaking in cum before he can even comprehend it, never realizing how sensitive his body was to you until now.

You always kinda knew he was sensitive and sure, you rubbing his cock against your pussy was pleasurable but it really surprised you how much he came from the action.

Smirking as he comes down from his high, you then lean to him and kiss him before whispering, "Good boy," To which his jaw drops a bit and you're angling his cock to slip inside you, "Now, hurry up 'nd please your girlfriend," You huff out.

And he's nodding without a second thought, "Yes ma'am-, fuck, whatever you want, pretty girl."

[peaches-and-honey-and-the-moon]

The speaker actually worked at work today and I hated my new job less but I'm still looking for different places. There's such a weird energy in the building. It all feels like forced happiness. Like "there's no war in ba sing sa" type vibes it's so uncomfortable