#only i handed off a couple customers to my manager and then asked to go on break | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

authorhjk1 · 8 months

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Interlude: Lonely

IU X Miyeon X Male Reader

You have walked past her table a couple of times already. It's not unusual to drink while having dinner, she is an adult after all. But the amount she is consuming starts to concern you. One bottle of soju after another finds its place on her table.

When you walk past her once again, to greet someone whom you haven't talked to yet, you decide to sit down. In that moment, someone else enters your restaurant. You stand there for a moment, wondering what's going on.

Her black dress is slightly gleaming in the light. It's quite short and her rather big boots compliment it well. She isn't wearing a necklace. Only a couple pearl rings and a handbag. Her black hair completes that dark look she has going on.

When your eyes meet, you remember you are in a public place. There is no official reason for the both of you to know each other. And yet Choi Miyeon has that look on her face already. That look that tells you what she wants you to do to her tonight.

Distracted, you don't realize that you have been standing next to the other idol, whom you were concerned about earlier.

"Why are you standing here? I didn't order anything."

Her drunk voice sounds kinda cute, although her outfit isn't. She is going for the same look as the vixen, who just sat down at a table nearby. Dark and sexy.

Her eyes are only half open as she stares at you.

"You know what? Bring me another bottle?"

She points with her finger at you, but it sways slightly and it looks like she wants to hypnotize you.

"Ms Lee. Why don't you go back to your hotel?"

You ask in a polite tone, but she waves you off.

"No no no. My room is empty. I don't want to be empty."

She scoffs before downing another glass of soju.

You weren't prepared for drunk talk tonight, but she is still your customer. When she appeared a few hours ago, you were surprised, but then you remember the brand, which you buy your soju from.

Lee Ji-eun, aka IU, decided to check out your restaurant, when she heard of its opening.

"Ms Lee. Can you tell me where your manager is?"

If you can't get her home, he probably can.

"Don't call me that."

She furrows her brows as she leans her head on her forearms, which are resting on the table. Her chef for her table left a while ago, so the two of you are alone.

"Just Ji. Or IU. I'm alone anyways."

She murmurs into the sleeves of her jacket.

"Fine. IU then. It's late already, don't you want to have some sleep? I'm sure you are tired."

"No no no."

She raises her hand and waves to decline your idea.

"My bed is empty. I don't want to."

"It's empty since you aren't in it."

"I'm empty."

You sigh as you rub your face. The whole day has been hectic and stressful.

"How about I bring you home?"

IU focuses on you, at least she is trying to, and eyes you suspiciously.

"You-You wanna play?"

You raise your eyebrow.

"What?"

"You wanna play?"

She giggles before trying to one shot another glass. Most of the clear liquid falls onto the table, some stains her top.

"What kind of game?"

IU shakes her head, which obviously makes her feel dizzy afterwards.

"You don't know. No no no."

You sigh, before asking the inevitable.

"What don't I know?"

"What-What we play. I never have someone to play."

"Don't you have friends?"

You feel like you are talking to a twelve year old who just took some painkillers.

"They don't play with me."

She mumbles on and pouts cutely as she slightly lifts her head.

"They only play with each other. Or with guys."

The last part was definitely filled with bitterness and annoyance.

"Guys don't want to play with me either. Why not?"

She looks at you, her eyes still barely open.

"Why don't boys play with me?"

You are starting to realize what she is saying. And you also realize where this is heading.

"Am I not cute?"

She pushes the empty green bottles away from her and you realize IU is recreating one of her commercials. At least she is trying to.

You do have to say so that drunk IU isn't as cute as her sober counterpart.

"Or am I not sexy enough?"

It takes her a moment to focus on you and open her eyes completely. But when she does, she looks stunning.

The Korean singer is older than you. Quite a few years actually. You weren't really into older women before, but IU? You can see why guys would be tempted.

"You are one gorgeous woman."

You smile at her, hoping this will lift her mood.

"Then why don't you do it?"

She gives you a groggy smile and sways that finger of hers again.

"Why don't you play with me?"

"You are drunk, IU."

She shakes her head.

"No no no. Not drunk. T-Tipsy."

She nods as if she is trying to convince herself.

"Yes, yes. Tipsy."

You lean back in your seat, trying to come up with a plan to get this woman in a bed. It doesn't have to be yours, but if she would be to sober up on the way, you wouldn't be complaining.

"Excuse me, sir."

You close your eyes in disbelief as you recognize the voice. Turning around, you see Miyeon standing behind you.

"May I talk to you for a moment? It's-"

You can see her struggling to come up with some excuse. Luckily, almost all of the media is already gone.

"It's about the cucumbers."

She looks surprised at herself at that idiotic comment. One might think that she is hammered too.

You glare at her, but she eventually convinces you with her suggestive glance towards your crotch. Cucumbers my ass.

About to stand up, you see IU lift her head, which dropped back onto her arms a couple of moments ago.

"You."

She looks at Miyeon.

"He wants to play with me. Why are you taking him?"

Miyeon ignores her and drags you a couple of steps away.

You don't know how Miyeon did it. But you find yourself walking down the sidewalk, IU holding onto your arm. She is less drunk already. The pill that Miyeon gave her, some water and the cool Paris night seem to sober her up.

"I apologize for making you bring me to my hotel."

You shake your head as you look down the empty street.

"It is closing time soon, anyways."

"Thank you, though."

She squeezes your arm gently.

"What did you mean earlier?"

IU looks at you with worry.

"What did I say?"

"You said you are lonely."

"Ah."

She nods as the two of you keep walking.

"I am. I sometimes have the feeling that no one is interested in me."

You stay silent as she keeps talking.

"I can never really have a boyfriend. Or girlfriend."

She whispered that last word, but you managed to hear it.

"It must be hard since you are a celebrity. But I'm sure you will find someone you love eventually."

To your surprise, IU shakes her head.

"That's not what I want right now."

She looks up into your eyes.

"Oh."

You look away and keep walking in silence.

"I just want to-"

She looks around the empty street, before getting on her tiptoes.

"-get fucked."

She stares at you once more.

You are about to say something, having Miyeon's plan still in the back of your head, but the Korean actress looks away.

"I'm jealous of all the girl groups, you know? They maybe don't have boyfriends, but at least each other."

She sighs and you realize she isn't completely sober yet.

"Imagine if you were in a nine member group. All of their hands on your body."

Her voice sounds dreamy and you stay quiet, but not because you are polite.

"Their fingers on your skin. All of them taking turns kissing you..."

She trails off and looks into the night.

You curse silently, glancing at your pants.

As if she has done this a million times, IU lets her hand slide down your arm and locks her fingers with yours.

"As much as I love younger girls eating me out, I love younger guys fucking my brains out more."

The two of you come to halt and you can't say a word. Until now, she was as subtle as possible. Now she is just saying out loud what she is thinking.

"Do you know how long it has been since I sucked cock?"

She takes a step closer, her eyes partially covered by her bangs.

"I would give anything for a nice dick in my pussy right now."

As soon as the elevator doors close, IU pulls your head down. She captures your lips with hers and you can still taste some of the soju she drank earlier.

As the taste and her scent start to take over your senses, you realize she smells like strawberries. Her lips, which have a similar color, are soft and sweet as you invade her mouth with your tongue.

Your make out session is interrupted when the doors open again, but IU takes your hand and drags you after her. She almost runs to her room, before she uses the key card to open the door.

As she is about to step inside, you pin her against the doorframe. You feel her bite your lip as you push your tongue inside her mouth once more. Holding her hands in yours, you take the key card and let it fall to the ground, right outside the room.

The two of you stumble towards her bed as you kick the door shut behind you. Afraid you are gonna hurt her, you make sure she is on top as the two of you hit the sheets. IU is lying on top of you, her bangs slightly tickling your forehead as she keeps her lips on yours.

As you stroke her hair, you feel her hands running down your body with one particular goal. Making quick work of your belt, she doesn't stop kissing you. Your own hands run down her naked lower back and hold onto her butt, locking her in place.

"Let me go."

She smiles into the kiss as she tuggs at the waistband of your boxers.

"I can do more with these lips than kissing."

You let her cheeks go and you feel her glide down your body. Raising your hips, you see IU taking off your pants.

"This was worth the wait."

Her eyes sparkle with satisfaction as she sees your cock. She reaches out with both hands, before she starts to stroke you. One at the bottom, one at the top. You feel yourself harden immediately at her work. She does seem skilled, although she said she doesn't have much sex.

Opening her mouth, IU lets some spit fall off her tongue and onto your tip. She spreads it around your tip with her thumb.

"This looks delicious."

She gives you a big smile, before she leans down. Her upper hand is replaced by her warm mouth. Slowly, her lips glide along the length of your shaft.

You reach out to hold her hair as IU gives you one of the best blowjobs you ever had. Her skillful tongue does not miss a spot as she lets it roam all over your cock. Her lips are sealed tight around you, making her cheeks hollow. While her right hand is still holding the base of your cock, the left one is sliding upwards, underneath your shirt.

IU can feel your abs with her hand as she keeps taking your cock into her mouth. You almost think that she doesn't have a gag reflex at all. Your tip reaches the back of her throat. The black haired woman takes it with ease as she has almost all of your cock in her mouth.

Once she reaches your base with her lips, she does choke slightly. She looks up, before moving her head in a circular motion, which makes you groan. Your cock still deep inside her throat.

"Fuck, you are good."

IU slowly moves her head upwards, letting your dick out of her mouth.

"This is nothing."

She gives you a naughty smile.

"I could suck you off with my eyes closed."

"Is that so?"

She winks at you and resumes her blowjob. You have to close your eyes momentarily as she works wonders on your cock. A few moments later, you are able to untie your blue tie. Reaching forward, you place it on her eyes, before tying it at the back of her head.

"What is this?"

IU chuckles.

"You said you could do this with your eyes closed."

You glance at the door as you see it open quietly.

"You bet. As long as I have a cock in my throat, I don't care if I can see or not."

The woman who just entered the room bites her lip at the older woman's comment.

Afraid that IU would catch on, you guide her head back towards your dick. When her lips touch your tip, a smile plays around them, before she obediently opens her mouth. As your cock glides into her mouth, you see Miyeon staring.

As if she forgot what she is here for. You point with your free hand towards her small sports bag she brought with her, which snaps Miyeon out of her trance.

She puts it down quietly, but all that can be heard in this room right now are IU's sucking sounds.

The younger woman opens her bag quickly, taking out a long, black object.

Unbeknownst to IU, Miyeon hooks her thumbs underneath the straps of her dress, before letting it fall to the ground. That she isn't wearing a bra was obvious before, but you can now see that she isn't wearing underwear either.

While IU still works on your cock, you watch Miyeon idly playing with her clit. She rubs it with two of her fingers as she watches the two of you.

"Miyeon!"

You mouth in her direction.

It takes her a couple of moments to tear her eyes away from your cock, which is currently resting inside IU's throat.

She winks at you, before reaching for the black object and something else inside the bag. When she said she brought some toys, you just shrugged it off. But it looks like Miyeon has a whole arsenal with her.

You watch her putting on the black strap on, while holding a bottle of lube.

"You are so quiet. Did you pass out already?"

IU chuckles at your attempt to keep quiet.

"You would need to work harder for that."

"Fine."

She sticks her tongue out mockingly, before letting more spit drop out of her mouth.

"Let's see who passes out first."

She wraps her lips around your cock once again.

As IU deep throats your dick, Miyeon is slowly walking towards the bed. She already opened the small glassy bottle in her hand. She is slowly stroking the long strap on with her slick hand. If you saw it correctly, the lower part of her toy is resting inside her own pussy, around four inches, while the rest is for her to use on her sunbae. It's around your own length, but yours is slightly bigger.

IU is still chocking on your cock. It looks like she is determined to make you pass out, or at least make you cum. Either way, she keeps you down her throat, not letting an inch miss any attention.

You have to hold onto a fistful of her dark hair, while your left hand is grabbing the sheets. IU is not joking around when it comes to blowjobs.

You watch Miyeon as she is now standing right behind the bed. In one swift motion she reaches forward and takes a hold of the older girl's pants' waistband.

"What?"

IU's surprised yelp is muffled by your cock down her throat. You force her head in place. Miyeon starts to take off her pants. IU struggles against the two of you.

"Stay put."

You force her lips to reach your base once more.

"You said you want attention."

Once IU has calmed down, Miyeon finally manages to rid her off her pants.

"Wow, unnie. Your pussy looks so pretty."

She purrs, before getting onto the bed herself.

You see IU relaxing as she realizes that the other girl is someone she knows. She just doesn't know who it is yet. In her blindfolded state, she is forced to only react to both of your touches. Miyeon holds onto her waist, making her rise her butt. She is now in this "demon pose" position. You can see the shape of her plump ass behind her head from your point of view.

"Fuck. Your body."

You see IU smile around your cock.

It's quickly replaced by a moan as you watch Miyeon spit on her hand, before reaching between the older girl's legs.

A couple of moans and seconds later, you can already see Miyeon aligning her strap on with IU's snatch.

You are kinda jealous, especially after Miyeon's comment.

The older girl's mouth forms an O shape as she gets penetrated by the plastic strap on. Your wet cock falls out of her mouth.

"Holy fuck."

"Do you like this, unnie?"

"I love it."

IU sighs as she holds onto the base of your dick once more. She guides your tip towards her mouth. Pushing her head down, you watch IU getting two of her wholes stuffed with cock. Although you can't see it, you can tell that her eyes are closed in bliss.

Miyeon moves her hips back and forth, letting the strap on slide in and out of IU's cunt. With every thrust forward, the older girl gets pushed forward, which forces your cock deeper down her throat.

Your head rests against the hotel room wall as you try to keep your composure. Even with a dildo in her pussy, IU is still sucking the life out of you. Her mouth trying it's best to make you cum. Your hand in her hair tugs at it occasionally, making her stop for just a moment. There are plenty of moments, where you think you are about to cum. But luckily, you manage to make her stop just at the right time.

"Your cock is so big now."

IU's words are interrupted by another one of her moans.

"I know you are going to cum."

She uses your tip to smear all your pre cum over her lips.

"Just give it to me already."

She takes you into her mouth again. Determined to make you cum now.

Looking behind her, you watch Miyeon slowly fucking IU from behind. Her own eyes are closed, the other end of the strap on obviously pleasuring her more than she would like to admit. Her hips roll back and forth, letting the plastic move in and out of IU's snatch.

"Come on, baby. Cum in my mouth."

The older girl makes you focus on her again. You have to hold onto her head with both hands, due to the pleasure she is sending through your system. You didn't plan on cuming so fast. But here you are.

As IU deep throats your cock, you hold her in place with both hands. Her lips almost reaching the end of your cock. You feel her gagging slightly. The muscles of her throat tighten around you. The slight shoves from Miyeon make her move around you. She humms slightly, when Miyeon hits the right spot.

"I'm gonna cum."

You groan as you feel IU's hands wander towards your abs once more. She isn't leaving room for her hands on your cock anyway.

Her gags become louder. As Miyeon gives her a big thrust from behind, you finally cum down IU's throat. You push her head further down as you feel her moan. Ropes of your cum coat her throat and mouth from the inside.

It takes you a couple of moments to recover from IU's blowjob. You just lie on the bed, enjoying the view of her getting softly pounded by Miyeon. You realize that she still doesn't know, who is fucking her.

The same thought runs through Ji-eun's head at the same time. She was surprised at first, to say the least. And although the strap on doesn't compare to a real cock, it's still a nice feeling to get filled in two holes at the same time. As you are now recovering, your cock resting in her hands, Ji-eun tries to guess who is fucking her. It's hard, since she sometimes loses her train of thought, whenever the girl behind her is hitting the right spot. She called her unnie, right? It can't be Yoo In-Na then, since she is older. Plus, she would have recognized her voice.

Lee Ahin maybe? But she would have called her "sunbaenim" respectfully. But it still could be her. Ji-eun remembers, that she was jealous the way Ahin looked at you occasionally from across the room.

You see Miyeon bite her lip, as a moan escapes her mouth. You never expected to be in this situation. And you never expected Miyeon to come up with this idea.

Watching her pleasuring herself and IU with her strap on makes your cock hard again. The older girl's hands aren't very innocent either though.

As she realizes that you are ready for round two, IU takes you into her mouth once more. You are still a little more sensitive than usual. You groan as she does her best to make your cock as hard as possible. Her body still being rocked back and forth by Miyeon.

"Daddy, you should try this pussy."

Miyeon sighs, her half opened eyes focused on you.

"I think this unnie is hungry for your cock in her little cunt."

The way IU moans at the younger girl's comment makes you slowly guide her head off your cock.

Her eyes are still covered, which means she still can't see what you are doing. You get off the bed and walk over to Miyeon. Capturing her lips with yours, you make the younger girl come to halt. The two of you enjoy each other's mouths.

Glancing downwards, you have a good view on IU's pussy. It's visibly stretched out by Miyeon's black dildo. Her lower lips are tightly wrapped around it. You can see some of her slick juices running down her inner thighs as she is still in the same position as before. You reach out to knead her left ass cheek.

"What are you waiting for? Give it to me."

She moans as she looks over her shoulder, eyes still covered by your tie.

You push against the left side of her hips, which makes her fall on her back on the bed. Miyeon left her pussy just a second earlier and now you are standing between her legs.

You admire IU's beautiful pussy. Her pink, plump lips glisten slightly. Her clit is slightly visible and her skin around it is as smooth as the rest of her body.

Unable to resist, you lean down to have a taste. You taste some of her juices as you lick her pussy lips.

"Oh, fuck."

IU moans. She expected your cock, not your tongue.

Standing straight again, you hold her waist with both hand. Nodding towards the bottle of lube, you instruct Miyeon to use it. A mischievous smile appears on her face. While she opens it and pours some of the liquid onto the strap on, you pick IU up. She instinctively wraps her legs around you, still not having a clue about what's about to happen. Her arms are reaching around your neck and her face is right in front of yours. You move a little, so that Miyeon can stand behind her.

You place your hand on one of her firm butt cheeks, while the other reaches for your cock. Slowly, you insert yourself into her pussy.

"Oh god."

IU sighs as your tip enters her. Since she is way smaller than you, you have to slide her up and down on your cock. Now holding both of her cheeks in your hand, you slowly lower her further.

With every inch, IU's mouth opens wider. When she finally reaches your base, a loud moan escapes her mouth.

"Fuck you are so big."

Her walls are tight around you. Looking down, you see one of the most beautiful things you have ever seen. IU's pink lips molding around your cock, keeping it in her snatch.

Her head drops back as you make her lean away from you by pulling her ass towards you. She is now on the perfect night for Miyeon. The younger girl runs her fingers over IU's waist, before aligning her strap on with her hole.

Once the wet plastic touches her rear entrance, IU knows what's going on.

"Oh fuck! I have never dones this before."

You can tell she is squeezing her eyes shut as Miyeon starts to push inside of her. You feel her strap on press against your cock through the thin wall of IU's body. With every inch, the older woman breaths heavier, until she is completely filled.

Her black hair covers Miyeon's face as she is just hanging there between the two of you. She is completely defenseless. IU can't do anything but moan as you start to lift her up.

She has never felt so full. Both of her holes are stuffed with cock as she slides upwards. Since Miyeon is shorter than you, you have to stop lifting IU when you reach your own tip, otherwise the strap on would slide out. And whenever you push IU down, she can only take a third of Miyeon's dildo inside of her.

Despite these little flaws, the older girl still feels like she is in heaven. All of her muscles relax except the ones in her pussy and ass. Over and over you slowly lift her up and pull her down. After just a couple of moments, the Korean actress has become a stuttering mess.

"Oh! Fu-! Yes! Please more!"

Her back is now completely arched, her head resting on Miyeon's shoulder. Because IU is still wearing that black top, you can only dive into her neck. You kiss her skin as you make her moan in tandem with your moves.

After having found a rhythm that works for all of you, you start to go a little faster. The effect it has on IU is evident as her moans turn louder and her hands on your back hold you tighter. You hear Miyeon moan occasionally as well, whenever IU is pushed onto her strap on. It pushes it a little further into her own pussy everytime, giving her pleasure as well.

The older woman has now lost her ability to form words. Her moans are deep and drawn out. Her pussy feels incredible tight, partially because of Miyeon's strap on in her ass, which slightly pushes against your cock.

You hear IU whine as she starts to cum. Her body tenses up a little as she feels a flame burn through her body. It has been building up since Miyeon pulled her pants off. Now, she is cuming on your cock, her juices dribbling down onto the carpet.

You hiss as you feel IU's pussy contracting around you. The way she feels pushed you closer as well. You are able to hold out, until she calms down, but you know that you might not survive another orgasm of hers.

You keep your rhythm nonetheless, making IU moan loudly once more. Her eyes are still covered as she sees nothing but darkness. After that orgasm, the flame in her body doesn't die down. Instead, it keeps building again. The darkness is replaced by bright colors. You are quite literally making her see stars as you make IU cum for a second time.

She whines once more, too lust drunk to speak. At the same time, Miyeon moans. You guess it's not really about the stimulation for her, but the act itself. A small orgasm rushes through the younger girl's body, making her knees buckle.

Seeing the two of them cum, makes you want to do the same. For a second you wonder if you want to trade holes with Miyeon, but IU's pussy is something you can't pass up on. There is no way in hell you pull out, until you cum.

Up until now, the two of you fucked her with a rather slow, steady pace. Fast enough to make her cum, but still not with your usual force. You can feel the lust building up inside of you.

Miyeon looks like that as well, although she probably has something else in mind. Although the dildo inside of her makes her feel good, it's hard for her to cum. The two of you exchange glances, before you come to a silent agreement.

You lift IU up one last time, higher than before. It makes Miyeon's strap on slide out of her ass, while your tip still remains inside of her. You see your cock is slick with her juices. The younger girl hurries to unbuckle the belt of her strap on, before letting it fall to the ground. She jumps onto the bed, her hand already near snatch as she is ready to watch the end of the show.

Ji-eun is still wondering what's going on as she obviously feels Miyeon's strap on leave her ass. You kiss her neck once more as she is too tired to complain about the lack of fullness.

Your arms start to get tired, so you place her on the wooden dresser, which is standing near the bed. Her back is pressed against the cold wall as you push fully inside of her once more.

"Right there."

She sighs as you hit a new spot in this position. Looking behind you, you see Miyeon is already knuckle deep in her own pussy, eyes only half open. She decided that it's more pleasurable for her if she doesn't have to move so much. The fucking tiring her out.

Knowing that IU can't look at Miyeon, since you are blocking the view, you pull down your tie. It hangs loosely around her neck as you see her eyes after a long time. Her lust makes her look like she is angry. Her brown eyes focused on you as her upper lip slightly twitches.

"Now fuck me hard."

She demands, not even bothering to try and find out, who fucked her ass.

You bottom out inside of her as you start to pound her onto the wall.

"Faster!"

She has become more vocal, now that she can see. Maybe she was a little shy earlier, but now, she is enjoying herself too much to care.

"Fuck yes! Make the whole hotel hear!"

She moans loudly as you keep your pace. The dresser doesn't seem very safe. It starts to rock back and forth with your thrusts, hitting the wall occasionally. It creaks as you fuck IU on its smooth surface.

"Make them know that I'm getting pounded hard! Make them touch themselves!"

You fuck her faster, almost scared she is going to hit the wall with her head. Now that she can see, IU keeps her eyes on yours, capturing your gaze.

"I'm gonna cum."

It's hard to bring that sentence over your lips, but you can't stop it. It's like IU's pussy was made for only one purpose. To make you cum.

"Yeah! Give it to me!"

She moans louder, holding onto the shirt you are still wearing.

"Cum all over my pussy! Paint me with your cum!"

Holding onto her waist, you pull IU further onto your cock with every thrust. You hear Miyeon in the background, moaning and whining as she cums on her finger. The dresser sounds like it's going to collapse any minute as you fuck one of the most beautiful women on earth on its surface.

IU's face is close to yours and her lips find yours. The two of you kiss, without slowing down your pace.

Pulling back one last time, you thrust into IU as you feel yourself cuming. You regretfully leave her tight pussy. But she told you where she wants it.

As you climax, your cum starts to paint her pussy. It coats her puffy lips and her clit, some drops hitting her flat midriff.

"Fuck yes."

IU sighs as she feels your warm cum on her pussy. It slowly dribbles down along her lips and onto the wooden surface underneath her.

You capture IU's pink lips with your own as that strawberry taste invades your taste buds once more. Out of the corner of your eye, you see that Miyeon is already putting her dress back on.

IU will never know, who of her juniors made her ever feel so full. And loved.

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(Alternative Ending)

Hi, everyone!

I hope you guys enjoyed this one. From now on, I will try to occasionally mix in these shorter interludes. This way, I can write smaller chapters, which I get expired by in random situations, or you can request scenarios, which aren't exactly compatible with the story. I will try my best to somehow fit them into the story, for example as a dream. These short chapters aren't really relevant for the plot, which means you can read them without the story, or if you don't like the idols, you can just skip them.

Have a great day!

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #gidle miyeon #miyeon #IU #lee jieun

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magics-neptunes-things · 2 months

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Good 4 U (3)

Hi guys :)

This is the next and maybe last part of Good 4 U. I had some request for it, so here it is :)

TW : Jealousy mostly. Wälti Reader.

PART 1 | PART 2

______________________________________________________________

Time passes at London and you love your life in here. You love the fact that you can see your sister every day, her girlfriend that you love too. You like the city and the life you are slowly creating in here. You miss travelling sometimes, but when it’s the case you just leave for a couple of days and after that you go back to your house in St-Albans.

And to Katie, obviously. Your girlfriend is really understanding with you, she doesn’t seem to have something bad to say when you leave. She just ask you to be careful of course, but she always manage to be the one driving you to the airport or coming for you when you’re coming home. You have a great bond together and you can see you falling for her a little more every day.

You still work at the café, usually beginning early in the morning because no one wanted to have this schedule. But you like it, even if you have to wake up early, you have your day off at 3:00pm and you are able to make a lot of things after. Usually you see Katie, but sometimes it’s some other friends.

Katie being away for a game last night, you didn’t sleep at her house, or she didn’t sleep at yours. The team slept in a hotel and they are supposed to be back this morning. It’s Monday morning and there isn’t a lot of customers today, so you take the opportunity to go tidy up in the stocks.

“I’m coming” you scream when you hear the doorbell of the door resonate.

You are just putting a cardboard in place when you feel two arms around your waist, making you jump off your skin. You turn around and push the person with all of your strength, only to face the cheeky grin from your girlfriend.

“Are you crazy?!” you almost shout.

“I’m sorry” Katie laughs.

Despite everything, she opened her arms so that you could come and hug her. You glare at her before going for her, passing your arms around her neck while she passes hers around your waist once again.

“I’m glad you know how to defend yourself though. Were you going to hit me?”

“Definitely” you mumble against the skin of her neck, before kissing it. “I had to learn how to fight, it was an exigence from my dad if I wanted to travel the world.”

Katie just hums, not really fond of the idea of you being forced to use your skills in a dark alley on the other side of the globe. Your security is maybe the only things making her worry when you leave alone.

Katie releases you, but it’s only to take delicately your face in one hand to kiss you. You smile against her lip, kissing back.

“I missed you” you whisper against her lips before kissing her again.

“I missed you too. Did you have a great night?”

“Yeah. Coopurr, Teyah, Ella and I watched the game. And after I went home to sleep.”

“I will definitely tell them that you mention the cat first.”

Katie’s looking at you with a grin and you laugh slightly. Her house is full of people sometimes, but you like it. And you like her roommates too, even if it’s hard sometimes to just have time with her. Thanks god, Lia sleeps sometimes at Caitlin’s so you can have your girlfriend only for yourself.

The doorbell resonates again, and you lean over to see who it is. But Katie distracts you, kissing the hollow of your neck and making you shivers. And, before you can see who it is, she turns your face against her to kiss you once again.

“Y/N?”

“It’s Liam” you whisper against Katie’s lips.

She sighs but release you, before following you in in the main room of the establishment. Liam laughs when he sees you and Katie.

“Oho, kissing the customers in the background now?”

“Shut up”

You smile feeling the red coloring your cheeks and watch Katie when she passes you to go and settle on the other side of the counter. Of course she slaps slightly your bum in the process.

“A mango-strawberry smoothie and a coffee pretty please” she smiles.

You chat with Liam and Katie while making her drinks, letting Liam draining the coffee machine.

“What are we doing this afternoon?” Katie asks.

You smile, loving the fact that it’s now “we” not “you” anymore. You raise your eyes on her, thinking before talking.

“Can we just… go home? I miss having you just for myself. Lia is at Leah’s tonight”

“I would love that” Katie assures you before taking the drink you are handing her.

She starts to drink it and you take the command of two men during this time. You still chat a little bit with Katie while she enjoys her smoothie, until the doorbell ring again and Liam greets the newcomer. You have your back facing the entrance so you don’t see her at first.

“Hello there, how can I help you?” Liam says happily.

“Oh uh… I’m looking for someone naming Y/N?”

You frown, turning in the direction of the voice and need two seconds to realize who was asking you. Your peripherical vision see Katie looking at the girl with suspicion.

“Maria? What are you doing here?”

You go around the bar to greet her and take her in your arms.

“I was in London and I remembered you said to my sister that you were working in a café. I asked her the name of it and here I am!”

“It’s great to see you” you smile.

Not forgetting your girlfriend, you take Maria to Katie, smiling at the Irish woman and her very neutral face.

“Katie, this is Maria. I lived in her sister’s house when I was Costa Rica. And Maria, this is Katie, my girlfriend.”

Katie takes Maria’s hand to greets her, but the exchange between the two women is very cold. You don’t realize it though, Liam remembering you that your boss wont take long to come.

“I’m really sorry but now isn’t really the good moment Maria. Give me your number, I’ll call you later, ok?”

Maria nods, write her number on your notepad before hugging you goodbye. When she’s out, Katie following her with her eyes, your girlfriend turn herself in your direction.

“I got to go; I have some laundry to do. But we still hang on together after your job, right?”

“Of course” you smile.

Katie smiles and kisses your cheek before paying for her drink and leaving the café. You can’t stop your pout when she left, but a group of people are entering the place soon after and you have to focus on something else.

********

Some hours later, you are at your house, lying on the couch against Katie. She cooks for you while you took your shower and now you both are just sheeling in front of Lord of the ring. Katie’s choice, but she beats at rock, paper, scissor.

“Who the hell keeps writing you like this?” Katie groans when your phone vibrates on your pocket one more time.

“Maria” you answer, taking your phone in your hand.

“What does she want?”

“Seeing me”

You have your eyes on the screen to type your answer, so you don’t realize Katie’s reaction. She’s not really happy, for a reason that she can’t explain, she thinks that something is off in Maria. But Katie just take a breath before talking.

“And when are you seeing her?”

“I don’t know for now… Maybe she can come watch next Arsenal’s game? So she can see that my girlfriend is talented in addition to being hot and beautiful.”

Katie laughs and kiss you softly, her arms taking you against her. She doesn’t like Maria, but she does like the way you’re not hiding your attraction for her. Maybe she’s stupid to be jealous about a woman who is just able to hug you, unlike her. You choose her, after all, right? You literally change your lifestyle for her.

“Will you wear my jersey?”

You bite your lips, looking at her. For now, you only were wearing a Wälti one, supporting your big sister. Leah already tease Katie about it in front of everyone, but deep down you know it count for her. It will probably attract people eyes though and you don’t know how people would react at a possible relationship between you and the Katie McCabe.

“Is it really a good idea?”

“Why not?” Katie frowns.

You smile slightly, using your thumb to erase the wrinkles between her eyebrows.

“Won’t people ask questions if you come hugging a girl wearing your jersey after the game?”

Katie just shrugs before tightening her hold around you.

“I don’t care”

You laugh and roll your eyes, cuddling back against her, like you were before taking your phone off of your pocket.

“I will wear it” you answer finally, after some more thinking.

“Awesome” Katie grins before losing all interest in the film and start to kiss you.

********

Like you said to Katie, you invite Maria to watch the game. Katie gave you tickets in the family and friends area and just like your promised you’re wearing her jersey. It’s the first thing she looks for when she came on the pitch. She doesn’t know why it’s suddenly so important for her to see you with her name and her number, but she’s happy for having stressed you about it when she sees you. And Maria. And how much Maria is close to you.

“Who’s with my sister?” a frowning Lia asks Katie during the drill.

“A friend from Costa Rica” Katie grumbles back, focused on her ball.

“Oh, yeah. She talked to me about it.”

That makes Katie looking up, her eyebrows frowned once again. Seeing the way she’s looking at her, Lia stops what she was doing. Kyra was next to them, but it doesn’t change the things for Katie.

“What did she say?”

“Nothing much. Just that she has a friend from Costa Rica in London.”

Lia shrugs, Katie hums and Caitlin just appeared behind her girlfriend and her friend. The Aussie seems a little concerned.

“What’s happening?”

“Katie’s girlfriend is here with another girl and Katie doesn’t seem to like competition” Kyra grins, before running away laughing when Katie glares at her.

Caitlin and Lia laugh too. Katie prefers to look for you in the stand, crossing her eyes with you. You wave at her and she smiles at you, but Maria soon takes your attention, touching your arm before talking again.

“Will you be able to focus entirely on the game?"

Katie turns herself in the direction of Caitlin, who seems genuinely worried for her friend. Katie thought it was a teasing at first, but then she saw her gaze and rolls her eyes.

“Of course I will be.”

“Plus, there isn’t any competition. My sister is crazy about her.”

Lia rolls playfully her eyes, making Katie smirks. Now that she understood and saw how much Katie cares about you and how crazy about Katie you are, Lia is nothing but supportive about your relationship. Katie as always been a friend of her after all, it’s not for nothing. She knows the Irish woman’s qualities.

The game went great. It was not always easy for Arsenal, being a gooner is sometimes hard, but the girls managed to win, and, in your opinion, Katie played very well. She got subs at the 75 minutes, and, from the bench, she kept an eye on you.

She doesn’t have anything to blame you, to be honest. But the way Maria is looking at you is going to make her crazy. The way she’s constantly touching you, the way she’s looking at your lips when you are focused on the game in front of you… She’s getting really mad.

Her knee doesn’t seem to be able to stop getting up and down and her arms are crossed on her chest. Next to her, Leah looks at her with concern, patting her knee.

“What are you up to?”

“I’m going to kill that bitch.”

Leah frowns at that, looking in the same direction as Katie. She finds you and Maria, leaning on the metal fence at the bottom of the rows of seats. You are looking at the game, Caitlin and Lia are still on the pitch. Maria, in another hand, is discreetly looking at you. From the corner of her eyes, but from Leah and Katie point of view, it’s more than obvious. You don’t have a single clue.

“Who it is?” Leah asks.

“A friend. My ass.”

“Don’t go into a fight in public please.”

Katie’s fuming and Leah doesn’t know what to say. If someone was looking at her girlfriend like this, she would lose it too.

“Do you think something happened between them?”

Katie stays silent for some times, looking at you. She hates that idea, obviously. She knows you had your life before her, of course. But if she can stay away from your exes, she won’t say no.

“No. I hope she would have told me."

“I think she would have.”

Katie grumble, letting herself go against the back of her seat. She can’t wait for the end of the game. She just wants to run to you, takes you away from Maria and returns her to her homeland.

When the game is finished and the players can start their lap, Katie makes a beeline to you. You smile at her when she came to you, not expecting her to hug you as hard. But you hug her back anyway, enjoying her proximity like always.

“You’re all sticky.” you tease her when she lets you go.

She smirks at you and get closer for being able to whisper in your ears.

“I never heard you complain about that when it’s in the bedroom though.”

You became bright red and with a wink Katie left to go with the team to hear Jonas’ speech. You just have to look at Maria to know that she heard what Katie said, your girlfriend’s boldness seeming to surprise your friend. You choose to not add anything, waving back at your sister.

Some hours later, you are with some of the Arsenal players, celebrating the important victory. Most of them are scattered all over the establishment, the same one where you first met Katie. Katie who is currently with her arms possessively passed around your shoulders to keep you against her. Maria came with you, the Irish woman couldn’t say no when you ask her if your friend can come too.

She can stop flirting with you, whispering sweet nothing in your ear, stilling you kisses when you expect it the least and covering you with attention. Between that and the alcohol you drank, you’re having a hard time not to forget where you are. Especially right now, when Katie is biting your earlobe.

Over your shoulder, Katie intercedes Maria’s furious gaze in your direction and she can’t help but smirk.

“Let’s go home?” Katie whispers in your ear and you bite your lip.

You’re dying to accept, but it’s still early and no one left for now, you don’t want to be the first to leave.

“No one left now. And I feel bad leaving Maria all alone.”

“She’s not alone, she have more than ten people to pass time with.”

You hesitate a little more and Katie sighs, taking off from you suddenly. Her reaction loses you a little and you search in your memory what did to makes her react in this way. You gently take her hand in yours and you’ve relieved when she lets you. But, just after, Maria managed to get your attention again.

Katie doesn’t say anything for longs minutes, trying to ignore the laughs that Maria is drawing from you. It lasts some minutes, before Katie snapped, suddenly getting up from the bench and training you with her, taking you by the hand that was still in yours.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

But Katie doesn’t answer, dragging you outside, where you looked at the stars with her for the first time. The memory came once again in your brain, but the upset face of Katie makes you forget it for now.

“Do I have something to worry about?"

“What?”

You frown and Katie sighs. You understood what she said, you are just too surprised to react correctly right now. Katie repeats herself, making you feel like she’s going to explode soon.

“Maria. Do I have something to worry about?”

“No, why are you asking that?”

“Because she never stops looking at you like she’s going to push you against the next wall to ravish you!”

Your face becomes perfectly smooth under the surprise, only your slightly raised eyebrows cause very slight wrinkles on your forehead. Katie never raised her voice with you, but you never had any real fights either. Although we can’t talk about screaming right now, she’s rather carried away by her emotions, which you can’t blame her.

But Katie thinks the opposite and you see her face tinged with panic.

"I’m sorry, I just..."

Katie sighs again and passes both hands on the face taking a big suction before looking at you again.

"She’s clearly fancy you, and I can’t stand it. If at least she did it respectfully, but she didn’t. You told her you have a girlfriend, and she passes her time eyefucking you. I don’t like her.”

It’s your turn to sight, taking cupping one of Katie’s cheekbones with one of your hands. You are smiling slightly though, and you can feel Katie’s tension under your fingers.

“Of course not, you don’t have anything to worry about, Kate. I’m not in the slightest interested by her. I’m only looking at you, no one else.”

Katie bites her lip and come closer to you, looking deep in your eyes. Right into your soul.

“And you and her have never been a thing?”

“Never” you smile, your hand now cupping her jaw.

Your thumb is stroking the corner of her jaw when she leans in the obvious desire to kiss you. You let her, of course, passing your hands around her waist.

“Can we go home now please?” Katie asks softly.

“Of course we can.”

You’re completely surprised at how much jealousy has taken hold of Katie. The proud and strong Katie McCabe, turned into a fearful little kitten. You could tease her about that, but you decide not to do it now.

The little kitten quickly turns into the tigress that is Katie when you arrive home, anxious to remind you who you belong to.

On the other hand, the next day and the days after, you will not hesitate to tease her.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #woso fanfics #katie mccabe #katie mccabe imagine #katie mccabe x reader

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rottiens · 3 months

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ਏਓ : HE ASKS YOU OUT! ㅤ gojō satoru x gn!reader — tags. sfw. divider creds: cafekitsune. // WC: 0.8K

Satoru found you at the Café on the corner of the last street. At the place he had shown you a couple of months ago because they sold the best coffee in the whole city, because it was the only coffee shop that sold the sugar-soaked sweets he so desperately needed to start his day. He took you here the first time to sweeten your day a little, to remove the wrinkles from your forehead and remove the gray clouds of negative thoughts– when you ended up laughing until you cried he knew his work here was done.

The bell on the door shouts announcing the entrance of a new customer, Satoru had recognized your mane even from outside, even if it was hiding a part of your face. He knew it was you through the glass, you can't hide from him. Even with the sound you didn't lift your gaze from the laptop on which you typed so effervescently, you had a cup of coffee —black, he guessed— at your side.

Satoru didn't stop at the counter to order as he has done on other occasions as his eyes were on something sweeter than any coffee he could ever order. He advanced through the empty tables and stopped in front of you. You, still unaware of his presence, so he pulled one of the wooden chairs in front of you and only the sound of the seat grinding against the tiles managed to make you look up.

A tired, muffled "Oh" is all you say. The tone of your voice less surprised than he expected. There are dark circles under your eyes even though you had confessed it to him days ago, you wouldn't have to be a fortune teller to realize how little sleep you'd had these days and that caffeine is the only thing keeping you awake, your sockets engulf your eyes and your pupils look dull. But then, there's another "Oh!" Slightly more cheerful, now with the decibels of surprise necessary for Satoru to be smiling.

You were looking at the bouquet of flowers resting on the table, their colors so bright, so vivid that they seemed to infect you, capable of changing your whole aura. They were freshly cut, with drops of water still on the green leaves.

"Gojo…"

"You like them?"

"They're my favorite. How did you…?" The wrinkles on your forehead blur with your smile growing wider as you stop talking.

Satoru shrugs. "I have my contacts." That causes him to smile just as brightly as you do. "Are you going to accept going out with me now?" He asks more quietly than the tone in which the conversation was normally going and he can see the insecurity on your face, the internal struggle you go through in seconds.

You were going to make another excuse, he knew it. He's been asking you out on a date for weeks now… it wasn't really a date, it was you who called it that, for Satoru it was nothing more than an outing. Eat, distract yourself, do something other than work, paperwork and think about your ex.

"I don't know… I have a mission to attend to."

"I haven't even told you the day."

You fall silent. Caught off guard you lower your gaze to the keyboard again, the blue light illuminating part of your face, dispelling a bit of the shadows the dawn hasn't yet been able to.

"Let's go to the aquarium," he says suddenly. That brings you back to him, to stare into the dark blindfold that forbids you from looking into those all-too-familiar blue eyes. "And then let's eat, or have breakfast first. As you wish." He speaks to you in that sweet voice he uses when he wants to get his way, one of his big hands moves across the table and rests on yours and you let him. You see the grip, his thumb carving your skin and you look up at him again, he drops his head to the side. "As friends, of course." He bites his tongue to keep from bringing out that flirtatious undertone.

Your ribs look like they're deflating letting out a breath you seemed to be holding, with the last thing Satoru says he apparently has changed your mind.

"As friends?"

"That's what we are, right?"

Your gaze goes anywhere but to him. Satoru presses down on your hand some more, an action that causes you to contemplate the grip on your hand again. He watches you stir on the chair and fix your skirt with your other hand.

"Fine," you snap. Satoru bites his lip to hide a victorious smile, only then letting go of your hand.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow, at ten if that's okay." You nod. "You want me to wait for you so we can go to Jujutsu High together? I'm already late anyway." Satoru pretends to look at an imaginary watch on his wrist and then looks at you to corroborate your answer.

"I don't go in for another hour, so you don’t have to wait for me.“

You let him take your hand from the table to bring it to his mouth and leave a kiss on the back of it, what should be an instant turns into a couple of seconds. Satoru holds your wrist sweetly, so delicate, he rubs the softness of his lips against your skin, on top of the kiss he just gave you and releases it to watch you slowly bring it to your lap.

"See you there."

#wr #gojo drabbles #jjk drabbles #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x gender neutral reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff

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sydsaint · 2 months

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The only relevant member of The Bloodline. Change my mind. <3

Summary: After getting stuck with Solo in a small mix-match challenge tournament on Raw and Smackdown, the reader realizes that she's developed feelings for him. The only problem? Reader is Cody's younger sister, and Cody is hell-bent on finishing his story.

It's the finals of the Raw vs Smackdown mix-match challenge. Two months ago, you got paired up with Solo Sikoa for one of the Smackdown pairings. Together the two of you have managed to run through the entire Smackdown side of the bracket. Now it all comes down to this. You and Solo vs Raw's bracket winners, Becky Lynch and Seth Rollins.

"You ready for this, Solo?" You ask Sikoa while the two of you are backstage waiting for your cue.

"We've already beaten everyone else, right?" Solo nods. "How hard can one more win be?"

You smile at his confidence and finish your stretching while you still can. Two months ago you would have laughed in the face of anyone that told you that you'd be friends and partners with anyone in the Bloodline. But here you are.

You and Solo started off a bit rocky. The man's cousin having a vendetta against your brother wasn't exactly the best basis for a new partnership. But the two of you managed to put your differences aside and work together to defeat the Smackdown bracket.

"Right. One more win." You repeat Solo's earlier statement, your gaze fixed on the monitor displaying the ring. "How hard can it be, right?" You assure yourself.

One of the backstage crew signals that it's time for your match so you pull the custom team shirt that the company made for yourself and Solo over your head. Solo's music hits first and he rolls his shoulders to loosen up before stepping through the curtain. Your music plays a few seconds later and you follow him out to the ramp.

You do a quick and clean handstand flip out on the ramp and come to a stop right at Solo's side. The two of you share a look and head down to the ring where Becky and Seth are already waiting.

"You want to start?" You ask Solo as the two of you take your place in your corner. "I can keep an eye on Becky if you want to try and wear down Rollins." You suggest.

"Yeah, alright." Solo nods and climbs up onto the apron. He offers you his hand and hauls you up as well.

You grab ahold of the tag rope and the bell rings. Solo and Seth lurch at one-another while you and Becky mean-mug one another from opposite sides of the ring. You watch the men duke it out and trade blows for a while before Seth retreats and tags in his wife.

Solo begrudgingly walks over to your corner and tags you in per the rules of mixed tag matches. "Go kick her ass, Goldie." Solo's hand collides with yours and you crack a small smile at his use of your nickname.

You step into the ring and Becky is on you in an instant. The two of you trade some heavy shots before you head to the ropes to gain some leverage. Your move set is more high-caliber, flyer moves, so it can take some time to set things up.

You bounce off the ring ropes and hit Becky for a clothesline that knocks her to the mat. You then switch to the other side of the ring and jump to use the ropes for a moonsalt. You manage to hit Becky head-on and go for a pin.

"Damnit!" You curse the air when Becky kicks out of your pin at a two-count.

Becky scrambles to her feet and kicks you in the sternum as she gets up. The blow propels you back a couple of feet and knocks the wind out of you. Out of breath, you scoot back and tag Solo back into the match before rolling to the floor to recoup.

Solo and Seth go back to hitting one another with slugging moves while you and Becky are both on the floor in your respective corners. You manage to get your breath and stamina back and climb back onto the ring apron. Solo and Seth are still busy duking it out so you decide to try and run some interference.

"Becky!" You climb back down to the floor and come around to Becky's corner.

Becky whips her head around toward you and the two of you rush each other. You hop onto the steel steps as you come around the corner and propel yourself toward Becky. You raise your arm and hit Becky with a flying forearm that grounds you both.

Now on the floor, you and Becky go buck-wild and start trading some nasty blows. You get a few hits in before Becky manages to get you hard in the nose with a graze of her elbow. You hear a crunch noise as she hits you and feel liquid start gushing from your nostrils soon after.

"Shit!" You gasp and reach for your face as Becky rolls off of you.

You sit up and touch your nose, instantly feeling warm liquid cover your fingertips. You pull your hand back and sure enough, blood is thickly smeared all over your fingers.

One of the officials sitting in the time-keepers area rushes to your side when he spots the blood and Becky backs off of you.

"Are you alright?" The referee kneels down at your side.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good." You assure him and get to your feet.

You wipe the blood oozing from your nose with your forearm and shake your head to readjust yourself. "Can you continue?" The official asks you and you nod.

The commotion outside the ring catches Solo's attention and he moves over to the side of the ring to get a look at what's going down. "YN?" He calls out to you with concern when he spots the blood smeared all over your face.

Distracted by you on the floor, Solo doesn't have time to react to Seth's next attack. Seth kicks Solo's knee in and hits a stomp before rolls Solo up for the pin. You jump forward and try to break the pin in the ring, but Becky grabs your arm and stops you.

The bell rings signaling that the match is over and it dawns on you that you and Solo have lost the match.

"Shit. Are you kidding me?!" You turn and shove Becky off of you.

Becky laughs, uttering a quick, "Better luck next time, lass." As she climbs into the ring.

Solo rolls out of the ring and you come around to meet him. "Crap. I'm sorry, Solo." You apologize. "I should have been quicker getting into the ring to stop the pin." You huff in frustration.

"Is your nose alright?" Is the first question out of Solo's mouth as you come up on him.

"Yeah, yeah." You nod. "Becky got me with a pretty gnarly elbow." You explain. "It's not bleeding anymore, is it?" You go to touch your nose again.

Solo steps toward you and sets a hand on your cheek to tilt your head upwards. "No, it's stopped now." He pulls his hand back after a moment. "Feeling lightheaded at all?"

"Now that you mention it." You joke and rub the back of your head. "I'm kidding! Just kidding!" You laugh when Solo's face flashes with concern.

The two of you head backstage while Seth and Becky are presented with their shiny new trophy. You both trudge to the backstage waiting area where a couple of the medical staff are waiting to look at you. They usher you into the trainers room to look you over and Solo follows.

After you've been looked at and cleared of any serious injuries you and Solo take a moment to catch your breath and reflect.

"Well, this was one hell of a run!" You muse to yourself with a small smile.

"Yeah, it was." Solo agrees with a hint of a smile. "So, I guess this is it, then?" He turns and holds his hand out for a handshake.

You glance down at Solo's hand, an odd bittersweet feeling washing over you. "I guess so." You nod and shake his hand.

An awkward tension fills the air and your gaze meet's Solo's, your hands still clasped together. Then, the door to the trainers room bursts open, your brother coming through it like a man on a mission.

"YN!?" Cody frantically scans the room before landing on you and Solo. "Your nose! Are you alright?" He rushes to your side.

You pull your hand back from Solo's quickly as Cody rushes to you. He clasps his hands on your shoulders and starts inspecting you feverously.

"I'm okay, Cody." You assure your brother. "Really. So you can back up a little, please." You push his chest and get him to back up a bit.

"Right." Cody nods and takes a step back. "It's really him I should be talking to." He turns to Solo with a sour expression. "Some partner you are, Sikoa! Letting my sister get her face busted up like that."

You scoff and grab your brother by the shoulder. "Knock it off, Cody!" You scold him. "It wasn't Solo's fault and you know it!"

"Whatever." Cody sneers. "This was the finals. Which means you and my sister are done, Sikoa. Got it? She doesn't have to tolerate you anymore." He shoots Solo an accusatory glance.

"Alright!" You grab your brothers shirt and yank him back toward you. "That's enough! Out! I'll be there in a minute!" You shove him toward the door.

Cody mumbles to himself but steps out into the hall. You wait until he shuts the door before turning back to Solo. "Sorry about him. He can be...well, a lot." You sigh.

"It's alright." Solo chuckles.

"Hey!" You perk up at the unfamiliar sound. "I knew it! I told you when we started this tournament that I'd get you to laugh at least once!" You remind him with a wide grin.

Solo holds back another chuckle and nods. "You got me." He admits defeat. "Congratulations, YN."

"You take care of yourself, mister broody enforcer." You reply and step forward with your arms out for a hug.

"Yeah, you too." Solo agrees and surprisingly lets you hug him. "Take care, Goldie. I'll be seeing you around on Smackdown." He adds.

Your hug is one of lose lingering ones you see in movies all the time. But it does eventually come to an end. You give Solo once last soft smile before exiting the room to meet up with your drama-queen of a brother.

Solo watches you disappear behind the door with a bitter-sweet smile on his face. It's over. Now you go back to the natural order of things. A Rhodes and a Bloodline member. Natural-born enemies.

That's how it has to be.

That's all it will ever be.

Right?

#wrestling #wwe #wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #wrestling fanfiction #wrestling fanfic #wwe x reader #wwe fandom #wrestling fandom #solo sikoa #solo sikoa x reader #syd's wrestling fics #the bloodline #rhodes reader

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revengeghoulette · 1 month

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Matcha Latte w/ Rose

Part 1: The Meet Cute, Barista Swiss x Professor Mountain

Part 2 3

Playlist: The Rosy Crown

I’ve had this idea written down since February, because a friend made me a matcha latte with oat milk and a splash of rose and I was like yup this is definitely Them. I also definitely did not describe my dream of owning a book & coffee shop. No mentions of matcha this part, but definitely next part. Divider by @ghuleh-recs

@divine-misfortune bc i really enjoyed your tags :) @obsidianghoul, @gottagho-st @foxybouquet @rainsbasspick @hypnoneghoul bc Swissalps

Slightly edited, might go back in and edit some more

Swiss works at a quiet little bookstore and coffee shop owned by an elderly couple. They’ve been training him to take over the business since they're too old to be doing this sort of thing, and want to leave it to a local who will take care of their business. He’s always wanted to be a businessman and run a little local shop. A safe space for all the so-called weirdos in the community, especially the college kids trying to figure out who they are. Fresh baked goodies round the clock, fresh coffee, a bookstore with an upstairs quiet area for studying with sleeping pods in case anyone needs a place for the night, or just needs a nap.

Once he officially became the owner, he changed its name to Rosy Crown Bookshop and Cafe. He hired a few teens, a handful of part-time college kids, and his friends Mist and Sunny, who help run the bookshop side of things and do other management stuff.

Swiss enjoys working as a barista and running the cafe. He enjoys seeing all the new faces at the start of the semester, but mostly, he enjoys the fact that his coffee shop is the go-to study place. He also hosts study sessions, trivia nights, and other little destressors for students. During midterms and finals, the cafe would be open 24/7 for those procrastinators and extreme studiers. Mist, Sunny and Swiss don’t mind staying open for them and working long hours.

The start of a new semester was around the corner. New faces were slowly starting to roll in, exploring the bookshop, trying the seasonal drinks, and a few asking for employment. Many nervous freshmen calm down after chatting with Swiss, knowing they have a safe space to come to for studying.

Swiss was finishing opening the coffee shop when he walked in. He’s tall, slender, wears glasses, tousled reddish brown hair that matches the autumnal leaves outside. Swiss was taken aback by this beautiful man… wait no. Ghoul? There’s a certain scent to him. He was too distracted to notice that he was ringing the bell for assistance. Snapping out of it, Swiss walks behind the counter to take his order.

“Hi, welco-” Swiss starts, but never finished.

The man looks up the menu, only to say “12 oz drip coffee.”

Swiss is shocked at the man’s abruptness, “oh sure, name?”

“Mmmm…ark. Mark,” the hottie answers with some hesitation.

Swiss smiles because it reminds him of those customers that like to make up names for their orders like Obi Wan or Rapunzel, “Mark?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, ca-can we rush this? I’m late for my first day,” the ghoul man stammers out

“You got it!”

Swiss turns around to fill a cup with drip coffee. Before handing the cup over, he scribbled out a little message on the sleeve, “Good luck”

“Here you go, on the house,” Swiss slides the coffee across the counter.

“No, I have to pay,” he insists, fishing for his wallet in his messenger bag.

“Mark, I’m serious. It’s on the house. Now go before you're even more late,” Swiss shoos him away playfully.

The day goes on smoothly, but Swiss couldn’t get Mark’s smile out of his mind.

“Whatcha doin’ there Swissypoo,” Mist pokes Swiss while he’s staring off into the distance as she wraps her apron around her waist.

“Huh? Oh, nothing,” Swiss tries to play it off. Mist chuckles because she doesn’t believe him, but won’t push it.

The entrance bells ring announcing the arrival of a customer. Swiss stands up a little taller, and dusts off his apron. Mist looks between the customer and Swiss. There’s something there, so she hangs back, refilling the caramel sauce squeeze bottle, watching them interact.

“Hi, welcome back,” Swiss smiles at the man.

The man in front of him looks almost embarrassed, apologetic, “Hi, I’m- uh, sorry about um earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand,” he brushes him off.

“I’ve felt bad all day so I thought I’d come and buy a little celebratory pastry,” the stranger flashes him a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little bit.

“How did today go?”

“It was actually pretty good, thank you. Can I get a slice of the carrot cake please. Can you make it to go?”

“Absolutely,” Swiss grabs the slice and places it on a box, scribbling ‘For surviving the day’ on the lid before handing to him, “Here you are.”

“Thank you! I’m Mark, by the way. I know I told you earlier, but I wanted to properly introduce myself.”

“Nice to meet you, Mark. My friends call me Swiss.” Swiss extends his hand for a hand shake and Mark meets his hand, static shocking both of them.

Mist was right, there was something there. She was definitely going to question Swiss once this guy leaves.

“What the fuck was that?” Mist pushes Swiss to the back of the house, slapping his arm.

Laughing, Swiss pushes Mist away by pushing her forehead, “What do you mean?”

“Dude, sparks were literally flying. C’mon spill.”

“Nope! My shift is over, BYE!”

With that, Swiss takes off his apron, and leaves the shop. Mist is flabbergasted by what just happened.

Mark came in every morning that week to get coffee before jetting off to work. Everyday Swiss would write a little something on the sleeve of the coffee cup, or on the napkin with his pastry. Mark has never mentioned them, but Swiss is hopeful he saw them.

It’s Saturday, and he’s not expecting to see Mark, but it’s a nice surprise to see him walk in and take a seat at one of the corner tables. After setting his bag down, he walks up to the counter.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“Well, hello stranger. Can I get you your usual?” Swiss asks as he’s about to turn around.

“No, actually. I was wondering if you could make me your favorite drink. I don't usually drink like those fancy coffee drinks, but my TA was giving me shit for always drinking the same thing, so I wanted to explore different caffeinated drinks, I guess, and I didn’t know where to go, so I figured since we kind of have a rapport I could ask you. Oh my goodness, I'm rambling, I'm sorry!”

Swiss smiles kindly at him, chuckles a bit. “TA? Are you a teacher?”

“I’m a professor at the local university,” Mark explains.

“Emeritus Tech? I graduated from there! But yes, why don’t you go sit down, and I'll make you something”

Mark takes a seat and pulls out his laptop and a book. Swiss returns with a latte.

“This here is a vanilla latte. Everyone says ‘it's basic,’ but it’s a good beginner coffee drink if you’re just starting to explore the coffee world. You can change the flavoring and the type of milks used. It’s vanilla flavoring, a shot of espresso, and milk with some foam on top,” Mountain lifts an eyebrow at the design on top, “It’s a swan,” Swiss answers his unspoken question, flashing him a smile, “I used oat milk because I find that it gives it a creamier, slightly thicker consistency. Enjoy. I’ll make my rounds.”

Swiss leaves Mark to his own devices, but he watches him from behind the bar. Mark takes a cautious sip from the mug, closing his eyes and savoring the taste. He didn’t know coffee could taste so good. He just stuck to drip, because he was too scared to order or make different drinks.

As the afternoon crowd slowly started to leave, Swiss began cleaning around, organizing shelves and restocking books and coffee supplies. Mark’s eyes would often wander to Swiss. He’d catch him dancing, humming to himself, reading the summaries of books before shelving them. Mark was entranced by Swiss’ silly little shenanigans.

Mark stayed late to finish his lesson plans. Swiss occasionally brings him water, or a sweet treat against Mark’s wishes, but he still eats them. Mark wraps up his plans, grabs his things and leaves, waving goodbye to Swiss.

Swiss switches off the open sign after staying open an extra hour just for him. He grabs a rag and a bin to clean off the table Mark was sitting at when he finds something scribbled out on a napkin.

“Thank you for all the notes on my coffee and pastries. Call me -M” with his number written below.

A giant smile forms on his face, he looks at the note again because he doesn’t believe it real. He’s so happy and excited that his tail unglamours and wags with happiness.

From across the street, Mark watches as Swiss’ tail wags, admiring the dimples on his face. He’s so beautiful, Mark thinks.

Swiss finishes closing duties and gives Mark a call after locking the door, to keep him company while he walks home.

“Hello?” a groggy voice answers

“It’s Swiss, sorry is this too late? I can call at a different time.” Swiss starts to panic, scared he woke him up.

“No, no. It’s okay. I was just dozing off on the couch. I- I, thanks for calling, I-” Mark breaks out into a quiet giggle, “Oh this is dumb, but I wanted to hear your voice,” Swiss blushes hearing Mark say that, “Oh, also, you have a cute tail.”

“Wait. You saw that?!” Swiss is shocked. He thought he was alone, or at least, didn't think anyone would be paying attention to him.

“Sure did, and my name's Mountain, not Mark, and I also have a tail.”

Swiss is relieved by the confirmation that he’s also a ghoul.

“Mountain… I like it. It suits you.”

They talk as Swiss makes his way home, and late into the night, way beyond their bedtimes, and fall asleep on the call.

After that phone call, Mountain went to the coffee shop every day before and after work. He’d sit in his usual spot and do some grading, or read a book while waiting for Swiss to get off work.

Mountain’s become a regular, and the employees start to recognize him and his order, as well as some of his students. The coffee shop has become a secondary office where students stop by just to ask him clarifying questions, or sometimes they’ll set up a meeting to discuss larger topics.

He’s met Sunny and Mist during the shift overlap, and they sometimes sit with him to keep him company when work is slow. They all know they’re ghouls living amongst humans.

Sunny loves to discuss books. Keeps him updated on the latest book releases and also customer drama. Mountain is a big time consumer of customer drama. In return, he gossips about his students.

They’ve also discussed hosting some sort of reading or book program in collaboration with the bookshop. Talks about hosting Q&A’s with a variety of subjects have come up.

On a quiet Friday night, when Swiss’ shift ends, Mountain walks him to his apartment as per the routine now. Once at the entrance, Swiss turns to him and meets his eyes.

“I want to ask you something,” Swiss starts. Mountain waits for him to continue

“Would you, maybe, want to go out with me?”

Mount eagerly smiles and nods, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask, and if you didn’t do it this weekend, I was going to ask. Yes, Swiss, I’d love to go out with you.”

“Would you wanna come in? Stay the night perhaps? We can watch a movie, and have some frozen pizza? Neither of us have work tomorrow, and we can sleep in?”

“I-” Mountain starts, but is met with Swiss’ puppy eyes, “I can stay, yes.”

Swiss sighs in relief, grabbing hold of Mountain's hand, guiding him inside the building while rambling on about tonight's plans. Mountain laughs, squeezing Swiss hand a little tighter, sending a little thank you to whatever god made this happen.

Part 2: The Date... coming soon.

#swissalps #swiss ghoul #mountain ghoul #coffee shop au #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfic #ghost band #nameless ghouls #mist ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #revenge works #matcha latte w rose fic

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

Note

AITA for talking on the phone while shopping?

So this happened months ago but it still weighs on me when I’m reminded of it and I want to know if I was an asshole, if I’m being dramatic, etc.

For context I have PTSD and AVPD (avoidant personality disorder - think social anxiety, but much more intense, lifelong, and you can’t ‘cure’ it or really medicate it).

For a very long time I didn’t leave my house at all. The last year or so I’ve been really working on it and I can do small things like go to a nearby shop, but sometimes I still have bad days where I can’t do that without having someone with me.

I moved into a new place and it was ideally located, there was a small corner shop literally seconds from my front door on the same little street. It was the only store in that area so it was my only option and I was lucky it was so near. However because the area was unfamiliar it really set off my mental illnesses and for the first couple of months living there I couldn’t make myself go out of my home, needing my sisters (who are wonderful) or my partner to bring me basic groceries or go with me.

One day I wanted to take that step but I couldn’t make myself do it completely alone (trust me I tried, I was sitting for several hours with my jacket on trying to psych myself up to go). Eventually I asked my partner, who was too busy to come with me, if they could be on the phone with me while I went - this sometimes helps because it gives me something to focus on that’s not the people around me and lets me feel like I have a lifeline of sorts. They agreed and eventually I worked up the courage to walk to the store.

I got in and had the phone to my ear but was keeping my voice as quiet as I could, though I was the only person in the shop aside from the woman (maybe 50s-60s) behind the till, so I didn’t feel as bad as I usually would about disturbing other shoppers etc. I picked up basic stuff, got to the till, put the phone on mute and put it down on the counter so I could have my hands free to bag things up.

The woman was acting a little weird, just kind of short and giving me looks, but I was just kind of trying to get out as fast as possible so I didn’t think too much of it. I asked her if I could have a bag and she didn’t seem to hear me. Asked again and she said okay. After she’d scanned everything she scrunched up my receipt and went to throw it away and she noticed I was still hesitating, so she asked if I’d wanted to keep it and I said “No sorry I’m just waiting for the bag”

And she just. Blew up.

She started screaming about how maybe if I’d been paying attention to her instead of my phone I would have asked earlier, how I was rude, how it ruined her day to have customers like me. For the first few seconds I remember kind of weakly smiling because I thought she was being jokingly mad, because that’s how absolutely out of nowhere it was - just 1-100 in a second. I still remember the look in her eyes when she was shouting at me, like… I can’t even describe how much genuine anger and hatred was in her face, her eyes were twitching and she was genuinely shaking with anger. Raised voices and anger in general are one of my biggest PTSD triggers so this just… broke me. She was holding my groceries to her chest while I kept trying to reach for them so I couldn’t leave and I just had to stand there and let her shout. Another customer came in so I didn’t even feel like I could argue back so I just grabbed my stuff and basically ran home and then broke down.

I was completely back to square one and I felt like it instilled that I couldn’t leave my home and be independent because the first time I’d gotten the courage to go out mostly-alone this had happened.

I didn’t want to put in a complaint because I didn’t want to be That Person, but my mother ended up calling the manager on my behalf and after she followed up he said he’d spoken to her but no more detail than that.

For the rest of the time I lived there I didn’t go back to the store even with people except on hours I knew she wasn’t there, because my sister ended up asking around the area and someone told her they knew who she was talking about because she had a reputation of being “like that” and gave her her working hours so I could avoid her.

I eventually moved away again and didn’t need to use the shop anymore, but this was brought back again because a few weeks ago I was passing through with my sister and we dropped by so my sister could grab something, and the woman was there again stocking shelves. As soon as she saw me she completely stopped what she was doing to just stare at me, then started aggressively throwing the things onto the shelves before going back to the till. My sister would probably have said something if she’d been rude in front of her, but she was completely fine to her and served her politely.

I didn’t really realise how badly it was still affecting me until then because I was just standing frozen in front of the door waiting to be able to leave and my hands were shaking really badly.

So AITA for being on my phone in a shop and being rude? The reasons I think I could be TA are that she treated my sister perfectly fine, when I told family about it afterwards some of them said that in her defense being on my phone while shopping was pretty rude, and I got my mother to complain to her boss about her (even though I don’t think she got in trouble I think she was probably mad about this)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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mediumgayitalian · 2 months

Text

———

For some reason the lack of a little jingling bell throws her off.

It’s a quintessential diner thing, she supposes. A little bell above the door. There’s the weird decor and the pressed cotton uniforms and the yelling chef and the little bell. It was in both Back to the Future one and two. That’s how she knows she’s right.

But when she pushes open the door with windows so caked with grime she can hardly see through them, there is no little jingle. And when she looks up at the door frame, eyebrows furrowed, it seems sad and lonely. She’s never been so aware of the lack of a sound, the absence of a noise. It makes the rest of the silence of the diner seem eerie, wrong. Dead.

She takes a hesitant step forward, door swinging shut behind her. She realizes as she approaches the ordering counter that her hand rests palm cupped on her belly, and removes it immediately.

“Hello?”

There are a couple groups of people in the back, talking quietly over their food. It doesn’t make the diner seem any less abandoned, somehow. If anything it feels like a TV playing on mute in a hospital. Saturated static.

“Seat yourself, girl. You ain’t never been to a diner before?”

The woman that speaks is tall and plump and harsh-looking. A very strange mixing of features. They’re at odd with the diner-specific yellow uniform she wears, collar pressed but skirt wrinkled. Apron dusted with flour and streaked with machine oil. Face pinched, eyes hard, black hair resting in dainty ringlets along her shoulders. Her name tag only reads the name of the business.

“A couple,” Naomi defends. “One even had a hostess.”

The woman — who must be a manager — raises an eyebrow.

“You see a hostess’ station?”

“No.”

“Then why haven’t you sat yourself?”

“‘Cause I’m not here to eat.”

“Well, then, get the hell out of my restaurant.”

Naomi holds her gaze, tilting up her chin. She will not be swayed by orneriness. “I need a job.”

The manager eyes her critically. Naomi’s hands twitch, and the top of her head feels suddenly itchy. Summer before highschool she’d wrote her first resume — Mama’d drawn her a bath and sat behind her and spent two hours slowly untangling the ratty mess of curls on her head with nothing but a bottle of cheap jasmine conditioner and her own two fingers, telling her about lasting first impressions.

“Go home, kid.”

“I’m not a fu —” She stumbles over her words at the last second, catching herself before that eyebrow can climb any higher. It does, and the other eyebrow begins to climb with it, but she rights herself and powers on. “I can vote,” she says finally. “I can throw on a uniform and get blown up across seas. I can — I can adopt a child, if I so choose. Right now.”

The eyebrows reach critical height, brushing the end of her carefully teased hairline. Naomi watches them and their inspiring journey with intensity, instead of noticing how the manager’s eyes drop down to her stomach, linger, and then return to her face.

“You gonna adopt it right outta your womb, or what?”

Naomi snaps her mouth shut.

“Well,” she says, and nothing else.

The manager sighs. “This ain’t a charity.”

Naomi barely manages to bite the snark back from her voice before she speaks.“I’m not asking for charity. I’m asking for work.”

Eyes shifting to the tables in the back, the manager leans over the counter, long fingers wrapping around the handle of a coffee pot so old the handle has worn right down to plain metal, and walks over to a beckoning customer. She fills a man’s mug with her lips pressed thin, offering a napkin to a child in a high chair.

“And why would I hire some pregnant kid?”

The customer pushes over a stack of plates without moving his eyes from the newspaper in front of him. There’s a woman on the other side of the table, holding a spoon out to the little kid, eyes desperate and tight smile slipping when the kid’s pudgy fist hits and sends the scoop of scrambled eggs flying. The man brings the coffee to his lips and waves the manager away.

“It’s illegal for an employer to discriminate against a pregnant person,” Naomi says finally. That had been drilled into her head by her Mama, too. That and how to keep her finances separate. She’ll have real trouble with that, what with the zero dollars she’ll have by the end of the week.

“Good thing I’m not your employer, then.” The manager sets the plates by a soapy sink, putting the coffee pot back on the hot plate. “Get lost.”

I am lost, Naomi almost says, almost slamming a hand in the counter to catch herself from her suddenly weak knees. She watches the manager watch her, tight little frown furling the corner of her mouth, through the blur of her eyes, swallowing hard around the lump in her throat.

“Please,” she says, too quiet, then tries again: “Please.”

The manager disappears behind a short half-wall, following the sound of an oven dinging. Naomi gasps silently, bowing over the counter, breathing heavily. She curls her hands into fists and presses them, hard, one to her chest and one right under her ribs. Ka-thump, ka-thump, kickkickkick. Kickkick ka-thump, ka-thump, ka-kickthump.

There’s an echoing clatter as a hot tray slams on a stove top. Scrambling upright, Naomi lifts the little door on the counter, scanning the space. The register is ancient and yellowed, buttons so worn with use the labels have worn away. There’s a thread-thin mat at the base of it. The counters are clean but scratched, walls stained but dust-free. The coffeemaker gurgles pathetically. An apron hangs from a hook nailed to the wall by the kitchen window.

As quietly as she can, Naomi slips it over her head. It’s tight around the waist, so she folds it once and ties it around her ribs, instead, letting the straps dangle loosely at the butt of her jeans. She ties her hair quickly behind her head and steps up to the creaky sink, silently moving the pile of dishes to the empty counter. When the clatter in the kitchen starts up again, she turns the water on as quick as she can — hack gurgle rush — and squeezes the mostly empty soap bottle as hard as she can to make up a lather.

“Hell are you doing?” says the manager gruffly, two pies balancing on her oven mitt hands.

Naomi shrugs.

“You deaf, or stupid?”

She thinks if laughter like a lyre and sun golden hair, plucking at her out-of-tune guitar string and asking a similar question. The ghost of a smile pulls across her face.

“Not deaf. And that’s rude.”

A pie plate crinkles under the press of a knife, and the scent of candy cherry mixes with slightly-burnt coffee. Makes her think of Grammy’s house, the smell of the jams she spent sixty years making soaked permanently in the wooden foundations. The manager finishes plating the pie slices and sliding them under the display glass around the same time Naomi suds up the last dirty mug. She watches her red-painted finger tap, tap, tap on her bicep out of the corner of her eye as she rinses it off.

Unplugging the sink, dirty water gurgling as it drains, she points a hesitant elbow at the dishtowel tucked into the managers pocket. She grabs it, threading it around her fingers, twisting the worn pink tail.

“Freezer broke two days ago.” She picks at a loose thread ‘til it pulls clean from the rest of the fabric, balling it up and sliding it into her pocket. She tugs on the fabric one last time, then tosses it, bundled, into Naomi’s waiting hands. “Tables in the back better have their bill by the time I get back from fixin’ it.”

Naomi hunches over the sopping dishes to hide her smile, listening to the scritch scritch click of the manager’s shoes as she stomps away.

———

Di doesn’t believe in paycheques.

“Great way to get ripped off,” she likes to grumble, slapping a stack of 20s bundled in a stapled piece of notebook paper into Naomi’s hands every Friday. She doesn’t think much of taxes, either, or lawyers, or racecar drivers. Naomi doesn’t quite understand that last one, but she knows better than to ask. As far as she’s concerned she’s still on probation, and probably will be if she works at the diner for another four months. Or the rest of her life.

On one hand, Naomi doesn’t have a bank account, so a cheque would be useless to her anyway. The cash she can use immediately and whenever she needs it. On the other hand, which is currently occupied with sewing back closed the hole she gouged in her backseat for the seventeenth week in a row, she has nowhere exactly to put that money, so it stresses her out.

Maybe she should look into an apartment.

Of course there are no apartment buildings in Sheffield. But she’s pretty sure Iraan is a big enough town to have a couple, as squat as they may be, and it’s only a twenty minute drive. There’s more to do there, too, so maybe she’d actually have a reason to take a day off every week. It’s not like she can buy a damn house with the less-than 3000 dollars she has saved up.

Waddling out of her car, she ducks into the diner. You’d think she’d be used to the lack of bell, now, but she finds that she still anticipates it; finds that her brain still quietly signals to her ears to prep for it. It always sets her off, a little.

“You’re late,” says Di critically, uniform hanging over her arm, foot tap tap-ing on the linoleum floor.

“I don’t have a starting time,” Naomi says lightly. “On account that I am not your employee.“

Di huffs, rolling her eyes. Naomi rolls them right back, snatching the uniform from her arms on the way to the bathroom. She has to wear Di’s, now, because she doesn’t fit into her old one. Di is much taller and broader than her and the stupid thing hangs down to her mid-calf, awkwardly drowning her shoulders, but it’s the only thing wide enough to cover her belly and Di refuses to let Naomi just wear her regular clothes.

(“You’re indecent,” she always says, sneering at her jean shorts, but Naomi has learned to translate you’re indecent but also you can’t have bare legs around hot oil, which she’s come to appreciate. Sure, Di makes her clean the bathroom whether or not she needs to crawl around in her knees to stay balanced, but she doesn’t want her burned to death, at least. That’s something.)

“And your hair’s unwashed,” she adds, as if Naomi had not walked away. She reaches up and adjusts Naomi’s collar, like that is going to do anything to change the fact that she looks like she’s wearing a collapsed tent. “You’re going to drive customers away.”

Naomi doesn’t say, you open before the community centre does, so I can’t shower in the mornings. She does not say, I spent last night trying to change the oil on my car when I couldn’t lie down to reach it. She doesn’t say, I’m too scared to sleep in the community centre parking lot, because my windows aren’t tinted and I don’t know what’ll wake me up.

She says, “The only thing scaring customers away is your busted attitude,” and scurries into the kitchen before Di can order her to clean the friers.

———

Naomi’s favourite part of the diner is the radio.

She can’t believe that Di allows it, what with her general distaste for joy in all of its forms. But it’s balanced on the window sill watching over the oven, antenna extended out the torn screen, dials permanently stuck on an old forgotten country channel. Naomi likes to hum along as she works, frying potatoes or kneading dough, twirling around the kitchen with a mop or a broom. It’s nice even when she’s cramping, even when her feet are sore — she likes hollering along to Dolly Parton when she knows Di is listening, want to move ahead, but the boss won’t seem to let me, likes the way her little parasite goes absolutely buck wild whenever Willie Nelson comes on. She can hear it even when she’s in the dining area, plates balanced all up her arms (and on her belly, too, which is one of the many things she has discovered it’s useful for), humming along to scratching dorks and scritching napkins, working 9 to 5, what a way to make a livin’.

She amuses herself often by making up lives for the various patrons. They’re close enough to the main highway that they get all sorts driftin’ in, from families with bratty kids who upend their food on the floor for Naomi to clean to men in starched suits who never leave a tip. The regulars she’s gotten to know, like the older, stocky, short-haired woman called Bella who smiles softly at her and leaves more than double her bill every breakfast. Or the two young men, college seniors, she thinks, who come in every Saturday afternoon and laugh loudly and talk about strange subjects and rope her into their conversations when there’s no one around and she’s bored.

Other patrons, though, strangers, she speculates. Like there’s a man in the farthest back corner, now, hunched over in the peeling green vinyl seats, scrawling frantically in a tiny notebook. She imagines he’s a private investigator, chasing a lead, about to discover that the woman on a date on the other end of the diner is cheating on her husband of fifteen years.

“Naomi, if you don’t get your ass back to work.”

She throws her hands up. “There’s nothing to do!”

Di observes the half-empty diner, noting the clean tables, neat counters, sparkling kitchen. Each customer sitting satisfied in their table, coffee mugs full, plates still hefty with food.

“Clean the grout.”

Scowling, Naomi stomps to the kitchen, wrenching open the cupboard under the counter and yanking out the Mr. Clean and scrub brush. It’s an ordeal and a half to get on the floor, wincing at the extra weight on her knees, sitting back on her heels with every spray and keeping one hand on her belly while the other scrubs. I Got Stripes by Johnny Cash starts playing through the radio, and she grits out the lyrics with every drag of the brush through the tiles.

“— and then chains, them chains, they’re ‘bout to drag me down —”

A pair of worn black boots come stomping into her line of vision. Naomi finishes scrubbing at a stubborn smear of grease, relishing in how it submits under her power, then rests her weight on her tired hands and tilts her chin up to glare up at her boss.

“I got stripes, stripes around my shoulders,” she sings defiantly, “chains, chains around my feet —”

“I should whip you, you damn drama queen,” Di says darkly, glaring right back. “Had three separate customers come on up to me askin’ me if I’m mistreatin’ ‘that poor young pregnant girl’.”

Naomi smiles triumphantly.

Di scowls, rolling her eyes hard enough to visibly strain her face, and drops some kind of foam pads at her feet. She stomps off without another word, scowling at the radio.

Poking at the pads, Naomi discovers they’re meant to be strapped to her knees. She slips them on, immediately noticing the relief.

For the rest of her shift, she’s an angel.

Di even almost smiles at her.

———

“Naomi, go home.”

“What happened to kid?” Naomi pants, knuckles going white against the counter. She breathes slowly and carefully through her mouth — in, two, three, four, out, two, three, four, in, two — and grits her teeth, staring determinately at the sticky tabletop until the dizziness fades. “I didn’t even know you knew my name.”

“I don’t.” A roughened hand rests on the small of her back, loosening the too-tight apron straps. “You’re sick, kid.”

“I’m fine.”

She tilts forward. Di barely manages to catch her, settling her slowly on the floor without so much as a comment about how heavy she is.

“The diner is empty, Naomi.” The same roughened hand moves up to the back of her neck, untangling the sweaty strands of hair that stick to her skin. Her voice is unusually soft. “You’re nine months pregnant, kiddo. You need to go home. You need to rest —”

“I need to work.”

With great effort, Naomi shoves her away, standing slowly to her feet. The world is still wobbly and bile climbs up her throat, but she pushes forward, hands half-extended beside her. She reaches back for the wet rag, swiping weakly at the table. An onslaught of nausea makes her pause, mouth clamped shut, breathing quick and deep through dry nostrils.

When she speaks again, Di’s voice is hard. “I’m not asking. Get out of my diner. Go home, or you won’t be allowed back. I won’t be accused of killing some dumbass kid who doesn’t know when to quit.”

“I can’t —” she gags, tears springing in her eyes, desperately trying to wrestle back some control of her body — “there’s nowhere, please, Di, let me —”

She slaps a hand to her mouth, heaving. She hasn’t even — she hasn’t eaten all day. The smell of anything makes her want to vomit. The idea of putting anything more in her body makes her want to peel off her skin. She feels — bloated and freakish and ugly; like an unsuspected astronaut on a sieged spaceship.

Like she’s about to burst.

“Oh, for the love of — Naomi, please tell me you are not nine months pregnant and sleeping in your fucking car.”

Naomi says nothing. She squeezes her eyes shut and tries not to think of Mama’s peony-scented perfume.

“Jesus Christ.”

Stomp, click, stomp stomp. Rattling chain, swishing cardboard. Flicking switch. Turning dial, fading music. Stomp, click, stomp stomp.

Two callused hands on her biceps, dragging her upright.

“C’mon, up you get. Where’re your keys?”

A hand digs around in her apron pocket.

“What, d’you fuckin’ run these over or somethin’? The hell’d you fuckin’ do to these things?”

No jingle on the door. A flipped sign.

“No, obviously you can’t — go get in the fuckin’ passenger seat, dumbass. God.”

Di mutters something about stupid kids and stupider adults, for putting up with them. Naomi smiles tiredly. Daddy used to say that all the time, flicking her on the forehead.

“Roll the window down. You need fresh air.”

The slight breeze coming in from the window is helpful, actually. It’s been a disgustingly hot summer, and Naomi has had to sleep with her windows down to avoid suffocating. She wakes up to mosquito bites in places she frankly did not know could be bitten.

“D’you think you’re going into labour?” Di asks quietly, over Dolly’s crooning. Bittersweet memories, that’s all I’m takin’ with me.

Naomi sighs, shaking her head. Already, the nausea has faded into the background. The sweat cools against her skin, and she stops feeling quite so much like she’s going to die.

“No. It’s only been eight months and a little less than two weeks.”

“…You remember the exact date?”

Well, hello, feverish flush. How I’ve missed you so. Will you do me a favour and cook me alive, while you’re here?

“It was a very memorable occasion,” Naomi mumbles, shrinking back into her seat.

“I see.”

Naomi’s never seen Di look quite so amused before. Her whole face softens, and her brown eyes look warm, for once. Naomi would attack her if she had the strength.

Di cruises slowly down Main St, conscientious of the kids ducking in and out of the shops, laughing with their friends. A tween girl looks over at an older boy and whips back over to her friends when he meets her eyes, the whole group of them descending into delighting shrieks. Naomi watches them with a smile and an ache in her chest. She wonders how Molly’s doing. How Esther’s holding up, how Leela is faring. Jen’s at school, now, all the way up in NYC. She hopes they’re well and tries not to hate them for not being here.

Sheffield’s small, and there’s not a street Naomi hasn’t driven down. She spends most of her free time in the community centre pool or the desert around the diner, sure, but she’s been around. When Di turns on Pine St and follows her all the way down, though, she frowns, looking over and asking a wordless question.

Di doesn’t answer. She’s driven them all the way to the other side of town in less than five minutes, pulling into a gravel parking lot and killing the engine.

“C’mon,” she grunts, climbing out of the tiny car and waiting, arms crossed, for Naomi to do the same.

“Sure, sure, let the pregnant woman crawl out of her own seat. Don’t lift a finger or anything.”

Di rolls her eyes.

As soon as Naomi has struggled her way out of the car, which takes her a good four minutes, Di stalks off. In her harried attempt to follow her, Naomi feels like a duck hopped up on an energy drink.

“What kinda money do you have?”

Naomi looks at her strangely. “Uh, what you pay me.”

“Yes, obviously, I meant savings.”

“What you pay me,” Naomi repeats.

Di purses her lips. “Well.”

She does not finish her thought. Instead, she strides down the gravel driveway, heedless of Naomi’s struggle behind her, until she approaches a squat looking building with ‘OFFICE’ printed on the little window.

“She needs a room,” she says to the clerk sitting behind it, gesturing at Naomi.

Naomi looks at her in alarm.

“Di, I can’t —”

“Fifty a night,” responds the man quickly.

“Try again.”

Di’s response is swift and immediate, ignoring Naomi’s tugging hand. She pulls away, resting her hands on her lower back, swivelling her head between Di and the man.

“Rate’s a rate, Di.”

She’s not surprised this man knows Di — everyone knows Di. But the slant to his eyebrows is unfamiliar, the hands clasped easily behind his head. He relaxes back into a leather office chair, heeled boot hiked up to rest in his knee, whistling absentmindedly in the face of Di’s glare.

“Two hundred a week.”

“Not a chance.”

“I’m not asking, Jed.”

The man — Jed — finally starts to look irate, meeting Di’s jaw-set stare with one of his own.

“I’m sorry, I musta missed something. Did you up and buy this place?”

Di doesn’t answer him right away. She never slouches, always standing at her full height, and she’s mighty tall for a woman. For anyone, really. She has a way of planting herself right in front of the sun, no matter where she is. Jed stares up at her, squinting, cast in Di’s shadow everywhere but where he needs to be sheltered.

“You gotta laundry list of shit you done owed me your whole life, Jed.”

Jed just his chin out.

“I don’t owe her shit.”

Blunt fingers wrap around her elbow. “She’s mine.”

“Ain’t how this works, Di.”

“Says who? You?”

For all her intensity, Naomi doesn’t think Di’ll actually fight anyone. If she would, Naomi would’ve gotten her ass kicked months ago.

(She’s mine. Kiddo. You need rest. Roll down the window.)

(…Well.)

Regardless, a flash of fear flits across Jed’s face. He cuts his gaze from Naomi to Di and then back again, pupils shrinking, and then invariably comes to a decision.

“Two fifty,” he snaps, scowling. “Not a penny less, Di.”

Di nods once. “Fine.”

She tightens the hold on Naomi’s elbow, dragging her away from the window. There’s an echoing bang, bang, bang, interspersed with muffled curses, before Jed stumbles out of a door on the side of the scaffolding. He stomps away without looking back, and Di tugs her along to follow.

“Laundry is your own problem. Clean your own shit. If you miss a payment, I’m kicking you out. Clear?”

Naomi stares. Jed standing in front of another low, old building, but this one is much longer, a door posited every dozen or so feet. A plastic chair sits in front of every door, and every door is numbered.

A motel, Naomi realises.

“Clear, kid?”

“Crystal,” Naomi manages, throat dry. Jed practically throws the key at her head, stomping back to the office. Numbly, Naomi slides it in the lock, pushing open the door.

The room isn’t big. There’s a double bed in the middle, a window in the far side and a dresser under it. A TV rests in a dugout shelf in the wall, and there’re two small doors next to it; a closet and a bathroom, Naomi assumes. Smaller than her bedroom back home.

Much, much bigger than her car.

“You’re gonna have to work another ten hours a week to afford this place,” Di says critically. When Naomi looks back at her, she’s lingering at the doorway, staring resolutely at Naomi’s face. Not a spare glance for the room itself.

Naomi does the math fast in her head.

“Twenty hours.”

Di scowls. “Don’t insult me, kid. Ten more hours a week; make sure you’re early tomorrow. I don’t give a shit if you’re sick again, either.”

Naomi swallows. She smooths a hand over the quilt tucked neatly over the bed — it’s soft, if not warm. The pillow is plump.

God, she’s missed pillows.

“Thank you, Di,” she says quietly.

Di makes a small twitching motion with her head that may, in some lighting, be considered a nod, then stalks off. Naomi sinks into the mattress; surprised at how much her feet aches now that she’s off of them.

She swings them up, kicking off her boots, to rest on top of the blanket. She leans against the rickety headboard. She rests her hand on her swollen stomach and slowly, silently, begins to cry.

“You and me and sheer fuckin’ will, kid,” she mumbles, face crumpling. The constant ache in the small of her back lifts, slightly. She stretches her toes as far as they’ll go and cries harder. “We’re gettin’ there. We’re gettin’ there. We’re gettin’ there.”

———

naomi art

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vagabond-umlaut · 2 months

Text

synchronise 2.0

On one end of the line, you've sunny days, mild breezes and not one thing to worry over. On the other end, there are only moonless nights, foul gales and one too many decisions– made and unmade– to repent for. And in the middle of this line segment, is you—

The only means by which the scales can be re-balanced. The equilibrium lost can be re-discovered. The wheels of life thrown off-kilter can be re-synchronised.

[Long story short: Time can be a funny little bitch— Good thing, you know how to be funnier than time itself!]

gojo satoru x fem!reader; canon divergence; time travel fix-it; the story begins here... freaking finallyyy 🤗🤗; tw: food mentions and mild *friendly* violence

prev chapter // synchronise masterlist // THE masterlist

chapter two: 23/3/2005

Working in a coffee shop sucks.

Sure, there are many nice things about the job: free coffee, yummy brownies, upbeat music, lenient managers and a pretty good pay— Still, you deem it to be the worst of the worst— Many, many thanks to the white-haired, shades-wearing abomination across the counter.

You decide not to hold back your grimace when he grins.

"You're looking very cute today, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know. I've got a mirror in my room," You retort, trying to wring and squeeze every bit of your exhaustion– exasperation– into the sigh ensuing, "Now, can you tell me your order quickly? People are getting late because of you."

"Oh, let them be," The boy waves your concerns away with an uncaring chuckle, "Surely, none of them is as important, or as generous, a customer as me— are they, candy?"

No, they aren't.

Neither the university student, nor the mother of those triplets, nor the salaryman, nor the elderly couple at the end of the queue: None of them buy as much as this boy does, yet– given your math is correct [it always is]– their collective purchases amount to more than the cost of whatever new solution of sucrose and caffeine he comes up with each new day...

Your teeth clack against each other as you peer up, eyes narrowing into slits, "Look, this is the last time I'm asking you. Tell me your bloody orders and step away, or–"

A cold palm over yours startles you into a sudden still.

And your hand moves before your brain can even grasp what the hell just happened– or directs, what will happen.

---

"You're not going to say sorry."

You should apologise to Gojo. You know you must do that.

Both of you have shared far too many casual touches for you to react this way– for you to twist his wrist then punch his face– at the mere feel of his palm on yours— Still, you choose to keep your mouth shut, willing your mind to focus only on the trash you've been tasked to take out.

A task seeming impossible now, thanks to the blinding reservoir of cursed energy trailing behind you from the time you were asked to leave the billing counter... Insistent, persistent, terribly obstinate— You huff a quiet groan when two familiar footsteps sound across the kitchen, following even into the dark alleyway behind the shop.

He calls your name. It sounds somewhat desperate– or maybe that's just your wishful thinking. Maybe you should stop watching those stupid, unrealistic romance movies— "So, you've decided you won't apologise, huh?"

"No," You reply, terse and firm, stopping but without throwing a glance backwards, "Why must I say sorry for your piss-poor blocking abilities, hm? Go improve your skills instead of bugging me at my part-time job... Just go, Sato– H-hey! W-what—"

The boy's reaction shouldn't shock you.

No, really. It shouldn't. You ought to be more used to the phenomenon named 'Gojo Satoru' by now, after twelve long years of close friendship with him... So sad, all that time together does nothing to stop your squeak of surprise when he wraps an arm round your midsection then snatches the bag of rubbish, effortlessly throwing it into the bin more than a few feet away.

Your muscles instantly grow tense, readying to fight to be free— only to relax when you hear your name. Spoken so softly... so carefully... Almost as if you aren't some furious animal baring its canines; almost as if you're some fragile glass figurine.

You don't like it, but can't really bring yourself to hate it either. Not when Gojo's voice sounds so worried when he asks, "Skipped your breakfast, mochi?"

"No." You return a sharp shake of your head.

Making you sit on an empty cardboard box by the wall, he crouches down before you. And asks, "Got yelled at by someone in your family, then?"

"No." You shake your head again, albeit with lesser edge this time. Confusion pushes your brows into a deep furrow, your mouth into a sour frown. "Why are you asking me these, Satoru? What the hell is wrong with you?"

The addressed's features break from their state of extreme focus, to become one of extreme hurt, before reverting to their state of extreme focus. Gojo removes his glasses, the shine of his blue eyes increasing manifold as they travel over your form, finally settling on your face.

Absolutely hating the tingles now dancing in your chest, you watch the boy exhale a sigh.

A very long, very tired sigh.

"There's nothing wrong with me, candy... There's something really wrong with you— You've been snappish and rude since today morning. And don't ev–" He falls silent, features scrunching up for a beat before lighting up in a moment of pure happy realisation. Too happy realisation, you think, watching the mile-wide grin on his face.

"You're sad because I'll be moving away next month and you've been pushing me away because you're sad— Isn't that right, candy? Isn't that right? Right? Right???"

Probably. Possibly. Almost certainly–

You lean back into the wall, schooling your face into one pretty unbothered.

After all... It won't do now if you confess to him all your fears and concerns. It won't do ever if you confess to him all your fears and concerns...

"You're not leaving for Jujutsu High in a month, idiot," You say, sternly ignoring the dull ache the thought makes in your heart, "You're leaving in less than a week. Auntie called today morni— 'Toru, no!"

Yanking the phone from his hand, you flip it shut and stuff it into your pocket. Then glare when you find Gojo reaching towards it. Bright beam now nowhere to be seen, the boy glares back and huffing, gets up to plop down onto the box beside yours.

You stare at the marks on your fingers for a while, before looping an arm round his shoulders— Shoulders, you never realised until this moment, had grown so broad... Whatever—

"Please don't make a fuss over this, 'Toru," You murmur, squeezing his arm lightly, "First off, the higher-ups will scold you terribly: They are hell-bent on making you go away from your home to under their shadows as soon as possible— And second–"

You lift his chin to make him look you in the eye. Azure pools of power, prestige and now upset, blinking back at you, bare and free of any and all covering.

"They'll give me hell because I told you this: I am not supposed to tell you this— something to do with shocking you then kidnapping you away while you're numb from the shock, I guess..." You trail off for a bit, before chuckling, "Those old geezers are so dumb, right?"

Gojo returns a weak nod and an even weaker "Heh!"— And you think, this is it.

This. Is. It.

Your last conversation with your best friend in the foreseeable future... Or probably ever.

That happened in the dirty narrow alleyway behind a mill-of-the-run coffee shop.

Where neither of you laughed. Or joked. Or did anything, anything remotely happy...

You don't really think– not even once– before you wrap your arms round Gojo's waist and push your face into his arm. It takes less than a beat for the boy to shift his body, and you, so that you're no longer trapping him in a weird sideways hug, rather hugging him properly. His fingers comb through your hair: so firm, so sure. Much like the suggestion reaching you next.

"Why don't we both run away to Paris, candy? We can escape from all this mess then."

"Wha–" You exclaim, incredulity seeping into your huffed chortle as you pull away. [It doesn't sound bad, a tiny voice in your brain whispers. Not bad at all– You strangle that stupid voice...] Hope shines in Gojo's eyes as he peers down at you. You force your lips down into a flat line.

"You're not Romeo, 'Toru; and sure, I'm pretty but I don't wanna end up dead like Juliet." You say, patting his cheeks, letting your tone grow a tad soft on receiving a pout. "You really need to stop watching romance movies, y'know... That teeny-tiny brain inside your huge skull is rotting– I can get the stench even– Ow, you ass!"

Gojo's lips quirk up slightly when you shove him back– but it's gone before it can form fully.

He shifts even closer to you, nearly engulfing your figure in the chill of his bigger frame. "Not every love story has to end that way, candy."

"Ours is not even a love story to begin with, Satoru," You scoff, noticing yet opting to ignore the sudden tensing of his posture, "And considering we do run away to Paris, like you suggested— What then, hm? Where will we stay? What will we eat? From where the hell are we going to get the money we need? Most importantly, how long will we keep running, Satoru?"

Screwing your eyes shut, you inhale then exhale, just the way your mom taught you to do when your emotions seem to be getting a bit out of hand— Opening your eyes, you find Gojo staring at you... rather weirdly.

You let your eyes fall to the fading colors of your shoes.

Resuming as you do, "What I'm trying to say is: we're teenagers, 'Toru. Whatever plan we make is bound to be stupid– more like, doomed to be stupid. Let's just go with the flow now. When we are older, we will be much smarter, stronger, scarier: We can do whatever we want then, and no one will dare to stop us. We can even run away to Paris, if that's what you want— Yeah?"

Looking back up, you find the boy's features not too far from that weird state... Until they are, and you feel as if you're staring straight at the sun. Or maybe that's just his cursed energy flaring up... Ugh, why is he such a powerhouse–

Grinning widely, Gojo clasps your hands in his. "Wanna do a Binding Vow, sweetness?"

No. Hell no. Never ever—

You know you must refuse. You must shut him up before his foolish tendencies take him way too far— take you with him way too far. Still, you do very little to quieten that pleased hum in your mind, when you register just how much he wishes to stay associated with you...

"A pinky promise sounds cuter, right?" You suggest with a smile– One that grows wider when you receive an eager nod in answer. You, however, curl your hand into a fist when he moves to lock his little finger with yours.

Grinning when he dissolves into whining, "Heyyy... what's the problem now, candy?"

"There isn't any problem, 'Toru. Just few conditions," You correct with a cheeky lilt to your tone, "Like, we ought to text each other minimum once a day, call each other minimum once a week, meet each other minimum once a month– And, last but not the least," You drop your volume to a value so low that only the two of you can hear.

"We must not forget each other, no matter what."

Gojo's frown melts away into something graver— before his beam's back in every bit of its glory.

You watch as he slowly pries your fist open, intertwining his little finger with yours and saying, "I agree. Pinky promise to do whatever you said, sweetness."

"I too pinky promise to do everything you said, 'Toru," You don't waste a beat in echoing his dedication in your words. The boy's grin grows bigger, reminding you yet again of the midday sun– Not the scorching one in summer, though! His resembles the gentle one of winters...

A sudden beep! from your phone jolts you out of your thoughts– And you jolt Gojo out of his seat next to you, scowling playfully as you do.

"Now off you go, my sucrose-loving fiend-for-a-friend," You rise as well, pushing him towards the back door to the kitchen, "Go, give your orders and get us a nice table; preferably, one closest to the AC. I'll finish my chores here and join you in a bit."

"Promise?" The boy asks with a pensive pout, just outside the building. You reach up to flick him– kind of– on the forehead, laughing fondly. "Yeah, you idiot. Now, go! I'm getting late!"

"Geez... okay, okay," Gojo exclaims back, laughing. And with that, plus a last-moment ruffling of your hair by him, he walks back into the shop. Leaving you to the quiet of your mind, the latter now much lighter, after your much-needed [yet much-avoided] conversation with him—

Too bad, you were never meant to relish the sound of silence.

No sooner do you step one foot towards the garbage bins than you feel the world before you tilt by a few degrees, for longer than a few measly seconds— Until everything is right again.

Or maybe nothing is... Nothing will ever quite be...

Not when you find yourself on a fine Wednesday morning, face-to-face with your carbon-copy— Except she isn't really so: She seems much older, much thinner, much sadder than the girl you saw in your mirror today...

It isn't really your fault, you think, when you end up blurting out, "Oh my God... So, I'm not my parents' only daugher, am I?"

next chapter

loserboy x girlboss → got to be my fave dynamic of all time [bonus points if both r somewht weird & stupid 😂😂]

header from pinterest; dividers by @benkeibear; jjk isn't mine

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #gojo angst #jjk angst #kit posts 📝

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chronurgy · 7 months

Note

i loveeeeeeeee your hc about gortash in all your tags!!! can you share your favorite hc about durge/gortash shenanigans in the city?

Yeah absolutely! Shenanigans hmmm....

Some of these will be a little more specific to my durge (Vesper, half-drow wizard) than others

During the Hall of Wonders heist, gortash specifically left some guards out of his reconnaissance to test how Durge handled themselves under pressure. He wanted to know if this was someone he would work with or someone too crazy to manage.

Gortash and Durge did a heist in the House of Hope as a trial run for their heist of the Crown - this is when they stole Raphael's shoes (the helldusk armor boots that Gortash keeps in the chest at the foot of his bed). Gortash didn't tell them about his history there or with Raphael before they went in. I think after seeing him there Durge did put at least pieces of it together and really left lots of burn marks and blood and guts spread around in their wake to get back at Raphael. They also broke at least one priceless and irreplaceable vase on "accident" while they were there. Their ire towards Raphael from this realization actually manages to carry over even when they can't remember why and it's partly why they're so determined to kill Raphael and so insistent that they won't work with him.

Gortash takes Durge to fancy parties, for a number of reasons - as a bodyguard, to bring them close to a murder target, to introduce them to the kind of high society stuff they'll be involved with as his co-ruler. But also because he loves to show them off, his darling assassin, loves the vicious little comments they make about the other attendees. He starts finding excuses to bring them to any party he can because he only ever enjoys these parties when they're with him, when he has someone just as brilliant as he is at his side. Durge usually has to attend in disguise but sometimes just dressing up fancy enough not to look like a sewer rat is enough to fool people.

Gortash is the kinda guy who will work himself to exhaustion and then fall asleep at his desk. The first time Durge found him like that, completely dead to the world on top of his diagrams and sketches, they thought about killing him. They imagined every detail, knew exactly how it would go. It would have been so easy, because he's so defenseless like this. They see his eyes moving under their lids, see his hands flex, and little expressions pass over his face - they know he's dreaming. They wonder what he's dreaming about (is it them?). And they don't kill him. They just watch him sleep, fascinated by the differences between the waking man they know and this unguarded sleeping one. They leave before he wakes up. I think they do this a couple of times before he finally catches them (maybe because they try to stroke his hair or something in a fit of softness). At first he's like, "oh my apologies, please don't hesitate to wake me should this happen again" before he puts together the look on Durge's face and realizes they've been watching him sleep and tried to like, touch his hair. He considers this a success because they could've killed him a whole bunch of times and didn't and they seem to be developing some sort of feelings towards him. He resolutely does not acknowledge the existence of any things he could possibly be feeling about this. Not at all.

Gortash keeps a large fancy estate in the city, Durge has a guest room there - it starts out as just an extra room but as they spend more time there Gortash starts to customize it more to their liking. He also moves their room to be next to his once he realizes that they're staying over more often, blaming a maid for knocking over a candle and causing fire damage in their old room when they ask why it was moved.

I think one night they have to have at least one really stupid caper they pulled off while extremely drunk that neither of them will talk about - as an example, they got super drunk, decided that since they were so good at heists they should do more of them, broke into some patriars estate, and stole a ton of fancy liquor. They also stole the bust of some guy from the entryway and staggered up the stairs to escape out the window of the daughter of the house's dressing room. Anyway, they woke up the next morning on the floor of Gortash's bedroom, extremely hungover and both of them (and the bust they stole) were wearing fancy little fascinator hats they can't remember but must have stolen out of the dressing room. They try to laugh at each other but gortash just ends up violently throwing up in a trash bin while durge lies on the floor with their eyes squeezed shut because the room won't stop spinning. They refuse to speak of this and will adamantly deny it ever happened if asked. Durge absolutely killed sceleritas while trying to force him into a stupid hat. The exact series of events might need some workshopping, but the core idea is some extremely stupid adventure the two of them had together that neither would ever admit to but is also a cherished memory for both of them.

Gortash's gauntlets (before he had the netherstone) used a series of capacitors and a setup akin to a self winding watch to generate an electric charge that he could attack people with. He designed them himself.

Vesper finds these gauntlets fascinating. When they first meet in person, he shows them off and discusses their construction and it's the first thing about him that they find impressive and intriguing.

As a gift, Gortash gave Vesper a set of sharpened rings designed after his gauntlets.

Vesper actually helped Gortash with some of the designs for the steel watch, looking at the plans and making suggestions - they were especially helpful when it came to the magical portions of the construct.

I think the closest the Urge ever comes to forcing Vesper to kill Gortash isn't when they first meet or during sex. It's one day when they're waiting for some spy's report, so they're sitting around in his room. He's tinkering with something at his workbench, and they're sitting at a desk working on a spell. They realize they need certain special inks for the transcription and look up to see them in the desk's little shelving unit and then they look closer and realize the desk is stocked with all the things a wizard needs - inks, chalks, paper, magical components. And this is the desk they always sit at when they're here and need to do some work. And Gortash has stocked it as a wizard's desk. He's made it their desk. And he's working at his workbench and they're working at their desk together in companionable silence. It's domestic, almost. And that's when the urge hits, with just absolutely crushing intensity, and they turn on gortash. Jokes on them, he's into that shit. After some back and forth between them (the level of explicitness is up to you! Or me, if I can get my act together and write this!), Vesper more or less jumps out the window and spends the next couple of days cutting a bloody swathe through baldur’s gate. When they finally return to him, gortash just asks them if they enjoyed their little vacation. After that, even when recreating much the same scene, the urge never comes on as strongly again (they don't know it at the time but this is the first time they've managed to throw off Bhaal's yoke when he really wanted them to kill someone. He never pushed that hard again with gortash because he's afraid of the consequences, though he still does push them to kill him a little bit).

Gortash gave durge a number of gifts over their acquaintance, both practical and fantastic: jewelry, enchanted items, clothes, shoes, books, any and everything you can imagine. He loves seeing them using his gifts, carrying or wearing something he gave them, because it helps mark them as his. He spends absolutely lavishly on them, buying them beautiful and fancy clothes for them to wear when they're in his house or out with him in public. He also buys them more practical gifts, well-fitting boots, weapons, armor, all of it enchanted and worth a small fortune.

On some of his gifts to Durge, he encodes messages for them in their cypher. They say things like "For my dearest assassin" and "To the sorrow of all" on a weapon and "pari pasu" (Latin for with equal step) and "I've always liked to play with fire", plus any number of other things.

Gortash has a thing for Durge wearing his clothes. One cold morning durge throws on his black coat when they get out of bed to check something and seeing them wearing nothing but his coat is such a thing for him that he ditches all their plans for the day to spend the day in bed with them.

Gortash has a number of affairs, to help his star rise in the upper city. He may use them to make durge jealous, but they are ultimately people to be used and discarded. He doesn't care what they do, because they're tools. Durge is his. His partner. And that's why he doesn't share.

#Hmmm sorry some of these are more just personal headcanons about that time period than truly shenanigans #Well I hope you enjoy them anyway!#dark urge #enver gortash #durgetash #dark urge x gortash #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #Vesper

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euphoricimagination · 2 years

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𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖

Feat. Suna & Osamu

Suna

You were watching the match of your boyfriend alongside Atsumu. Seeing Suna play always brought a smile to your face because no matter how much he says it isn’t a big deal, you can see a glint of excitement whenever he blocks someone, especially if it’s his old teammates like Aran now.

When they were in a timeout you notice a girl that you never seen before, probably one of the new staff that they were looking for. However, you can’t help to notice that she pays a little more attention to Suna, how she barely looks at the others only looking at him. Suna doesn’t pay any attention to her, not more than necessary at least, but that still didn’t stop her.

“Oi, is that a new manager? I don’t remember seeing her before” you asked Atsumu

“Yeah, I think her first game was recently, in that game that you couldn’t attend” he answers back, knowing how perceptive he is, he probably knows what you are thinking “She´s always on Sunarins back, no matter how much he shakes her off she just doesn’t stop”

After the game finished, you go and wait for him near the changing rooms, Atsumu leaving to prepare for his game later on. While waiting you see the new manager coming out of a room, immediately looking at you. “Hi, you’re Suna-san girlfriend right?” she asks you overly innocent

“That’s me” you smile to her

“He said something about it” says rolling her eyes before smiling creepily “You know, he deserves someone that supports him, you barely have come to see him”

“I have been on plenty of his games...” you were going to add something else when you saw Suna coming out of the locker, frown appearing when he heard what she said next

“Don’t worry though, he has plenty of support, I’m her work girlfriend anyway”

“Ew, I’ve told you to stop with that bullshit” Suna says passing his arm over your shoulders with a quick kiss on your temple “I'm getting really tired with you”

Her eyes widen at his words, slight panic on them “Come on Suna-san, it was a joke”. You can feel your boyfriend get angrier, so you hug his waist in hopes he calms down.

“Jokes are meant to be funny... Look, I'm giving you one more chance, next time you flirt with me or I hear that you say something to my partner, I'll talk to the coach and you won't work here anymore. Now leave”

After she left, not before muttering many apologies, Suna turns you and takes your face in his hands “I’m sorry for that bunny”

“It's okay, it's not like you can do much more” you pass your arms through his neck to play with the hair on his neck. From the corner of your eyes you can see the girl sneakily looking at you two while being scolded by the coach, so you pull Suna closer to kiss him rather passionately.

“In case she doesn’t get the memo that you’re mine” you say when you pull apart, he looks at you with a little smirk, which just grew when you said that.

Osamu

It was a normal day in Onigiri Miya when you entered the store. You normally like to wait for him to finish, and he likes having you there so it´s a win-win situation.

A few weeks ago, Osamu hired a new assistant to help him to attend customers, for the most part she was really friendly, but there was something in the way she looks at your boyfriend. You decided to ignore those thoughts, there was no reason for you to think that just yet. Until today.

Today was a slow day in the store, there was only an elderly couple eating there when you arrived, making the bell of the door sound even louder.

“Welcome to Onigiri Mi- Oh, it´s you” the girl looks up from her phone, a little disdain in her voice for the last sentence. Lately, every time Osamu wasn’t there, her attitude changes a little. Either the girl didn't know you were dating or she was just ignoring it.

“Its me. Can I have my usual please?” you tried to act like normal, there's no point in being mean.

“Sure, go to your sit or whatever” says rolling her eyes. Your boyfriend comes out of the storage room soon after, but before he could look away from the task, you faintly hear a whine “Osamu-saan, can you help me out please?”

“Sure...” answers your boyfriend visibly confused. Through the whole process the girl was flirting with him, holding his arm, complimenting him left and right; all while stealing glances at you with a satisfied grin. Osamu shook her off every time, annoyed.

“So, number 4? Wait, Yn's here? You're supposed to tell me when she arrives” he takes the plate walking towards you, rolling his eyes “Sorry sweetheart, I don't know what's with her”

“It's okay, I think she likes you” you joked when he sat down in front of you.

He sighs in defeat, he really needed someone to help him, reason why he hired her in the first place, but it was getting out of control “I'll fire her”. He watched as you look at him with a cute confusion, ready to protest once you finish the food in your mouth, so he continues his thoughts “She always acted a bit weird, but it's getting bolder and it's making me uncomfortable. She's not that good anyway”

You two continue talking for a few more minutes before another person comes in, making him stand up to attend him. You can see that while preparing the order Osamu was talking to the girl, making her look guiltily at him. You don’t really know if he will really fire her or not, but her look its almost apologetic when she brings you some mochis. You didn’t order those, and by the look on your boyfriend face, he didn’t either.

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graveyardvalentinee · 1 year

Note

hii can you do where reader comes back home crying because of people at work making fun of her and saying bad stuff about her relationship with ney

of course lovely :)) thank you so much for your request !! I’m not sure if by “people at work” you meant her co-workers or customers but I just made it where the customers were being rude.

—————————

consequences / neymar jr

pairing : neymar x reader

When I said yes to Neymar after he asked me be his girlfriend , I didn’t realize all the criticism it would come with.

We met at my job - a jewelry store. He had went in looking to buy a birthday gift for his mom , I just happened to be the only available employee.

I didn’t know who he was at first , until after he had asked for my number and left. My co-worker basically screamed once I told her and she revealed to me who he was.

And after that everything was history between us. He was the best boyfriend I could ever ask for , the best partner I could ever have.

He had his own way of loving , and it’s one of the main things that made fall for him so quickly.

He’s easily a charmer.

On our first couple of dates he would always surprise me with small gestures - flowers , books that I had mentioned I wanted, small jewelry pieces , and much more.

I would always protest and insist how he didn’t have to buy me any of that stuff - that those weren’t the reasons why I accepted to going out with him but he would always brush me off , saying how he wanted to give me all these things.

He showers me with compliments any chance he gets , making me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

I also deeply enjoy his touchy side. Kisses everywhere - no matter where we are or what we’re doing. His hands somewhere on me at all times when we were together. He claims he can’t sleep properly through the night if I’m not there next to him - or wrapped in his arms.

But all that aside - he’s very attentive to me and my feelings.

He always makes my feelings valid , he always insists on talking everything out with me. I don’t think there was ever a time where he’s been unthoughtful towards me.

I was iffy at first - to open up to him about everything but he made me feel so welcome in his embrace , and I easily was able to tell him anything that would be wrong with me.

But today - that all changed. I had never dealt with hatred towards me like this before.

When me and Ney started our relationship I made it clear to him I still wanted to have a normal life - I didn’t want him to expose me to the media.

Sure he would post pictures of us , but none ever showing my face.

We thought we were safe up until 2 weeks ago when the paparazzi took a clear picture of me and ney outside his house.

I tried covering my face once I noticed the paparazzi but it was too late.

The media soon found out who I was through Neymars following - I made the stupid decision of not making my account private.

My co-worker had tagged me in a photo of a work party we had - also tagging the location. I’m guessing that’s how Ney’s die hard fans found my job.

Every day since then it was a lot more busy , people specifically requesting me to take their orders.

When the pictures got out to the public , Ney insisted I quit my job and just let him work for the both us - something he’s been trying to make me do for moths.

But me being me - I told him nothing about his fans going to my job and acted as if the paparazzi spotting us changed nothing in my life.

I now realize that was a stupid mistake.

Earlier today I was helping two girls who had walked in and came straight to me for assistance. One blonde and another brunette , both seeming to be around 16 or 17.

It was all going swell until the questions started.

“So Y/N - how did you manage to snatch Neymar all for yourself ?” The brunette asks.

“I don’t discuss my personal life with customers.” I tried to remain as calm as possible , giving them a small fake smile. This was the first time anyone had actually mentioned our relationship to me.

The brunette looks at her friend , turns back to me and laughs.

“No seriously - are you like a you know service girl of some sorts ?” The blonde asks me now, whispering the last part.

Is this what people think of me?

“Excuse me? I am not!” I fight back , trying to hold back any tears. I have no idea what to do or say.

“Come on , Neymar couldn’t have seriously chosen you for no reason - I mean just look at you. You don’t have much to offer.” The blonde continues , her eyes raking down my figure , gaze filled with disgust.

I shamefully look down. My hands start to shake and no words come out of my mouth.

The girls start to snicker to each other. I can’t make out all the words that their saying because of their low tone but I do hear the words -

“If I knew Neymar went for the first hooker he saw on the street I’d been on that street months ago.”

“Security ! Please escort there two girls out.” I finally get the courage to speak.

“What ? We haven’t done anything! We’re simply shopping for a pair of earrings.” The blonde says , putting on a fake voice.

I look up at our security - Marcus , me and him get along very well and he’s been very aware of all the fans coming in and out of the store.

I mouth a “please” to him , just wanting these girls gone as soon as possible.

“Ladies please do not make me drag you out of the store. The exit is that way.” Marcus firmly says.

The two girls look at me and roll their eyes before walking out of the store.

I grab all of my stuff from the back room and clock out , not caring to warn anyone about me leaving.

I get into my car and rush home. As soon as I step into the house I burst into tears , letting myself fall on the floor.

When I left the store I didn’t even check the time - 5 pm.

The exact time Neymar gets home from practice.

My mind was so fogged with everything that had just occurred I didn’t even have time to notice Neymar on the couch.

His eyes look up and meet mine. He rushes up off the couch and comes to my side.

“Amor what’s wrong ? Por que minha linda garota está chorando?” He softly says holding me in his arms. [why is my pretty girl crying ?]

I’m so dumb. I should have went to my friends house or something instead of coming here. The last thing I wanted was to tell Neymar about the humiliating things they told me at work.

I bring my hands up to my face and wipe my tears off , trying to get out of his tight grasp.

“It’s nothing Ney , I’m fine.”

“Y/N everything is obviously not fine. I’m not letting you go until you tell me what is wrong.”

“I’m serious querido , everything is fine.” I try to get the words out and put a smile on my face but my tears betray me.

My thoughts going back to what those girls said of me , making me cry ever harder.

“Look at me” he whispers.

I look up into his eyes , my vision blurry with tears.

“Take your time amor. I’ll wait here for you to tell me what is wrong , you know I am always here for you. What ever it is you are going thru I won’t leave your side.”

He won’t budge , and it’s no use to keep it in , im sure those girls will upload the conversation we had to the media and Ney will find out one way or another.

“These - these -” I try to get out but more tears end up falling.

“Breathe amor breathe , I’m here for you , I’m right here.” He whispers , kissing my temple.

I take in a deep breath and finally calm myself. Ready to tell Neymar everything that had been happening.

“Ever since the pictures got leaked there’s been more and more customers coming into the store , specifically requesting me to take their orders - I’m sure you can figure out why. Everything was fine tho , no one asked any questions just eyed me a lot and looked very excited to be assisted by me. Until today - these two girls came in and told me the most horrible things.”

I can tell he’s bothered by me not telling him about the customers coming in but I continue before he has a chance to scold me about that.

“They asked me -”

“God. They asked me if I was your whore. They said I had to be a worker in that department of some sort because there’s no way you’d choose me out of thousands of girls.”

“Y/N -”

“Before you get mad at me for not telling you about all the people coming into my job , I’m sorry I really am - I should have spoked up earlier. I now see you are right about the whole quitting my job thing.”

“Meu amor I could never be mad at you , specially over something like that.” He begins

“What those girls said is no where near true and we both know it. You know why I chose you-”

“Do I really know why tho? Why did you chose me Neymar? You could have any woman you want.” I interrupt , a wave of insecurity going over me.

He drops his arms from around me and helps me to stand up , walking me over to the couch. He sits down and grabs my arms causing me to straddle his lap ,bringing one of his hands up to the side of my neck and letting the other rest on the outside of my thigh. Reaching up he gives my forehead , cheeks , and lips a small kiss before speaking -

“I chose you because when I walked into that jewelry store my eyes went straight to you. I could not take my mind off of you for the next week after that. I had to make you mines. I found any stupid excuse to go back there and just speak to you.”

“You have changed my life im so many unexplainable ways Y/N. There’s no other woman that I could ever dream of when I have you right here - all for me. You are the light of my life. I love and adore every single thing about you , you have bewitched me mind and soul.”

“I like to believe you were made just for me because there is no other woman on this earth that can make me go crazy like you. I will continue to show you-”

He leans forward laying gentle kisses on my neck.

“Every single day-”

His hand on my thigh starts slowly finding its way to my clothed center.

All my thoughts from what those girls told me earlier completely vanished , my focus now being on Neymar’s words and his hands making every inch of my body hot with desire.

I can tell he’s doing this to take my mind off things and it’s definitely working.

“That you are -”

I can feel his hard on under me so I decide to move forward - just a bit to tease him.

“The most utterly breathtaking-”

His hand at my neck now making its way to my behind , giving it a tight squeeze , causing me to roll my hips forward onto him again.

“And perfect woman for me.”

His face comes up from my neck before he smashes his lips on mine , i kiss him back immediately with everything in me.

I pull away to look him in the eyes and wrap my hands around his neck.

“I’m tired of us hiding linda. Eu te amo , e você merece ser mostrada como a beleza que você é.” [I love you and you deserve to be shown of like the beauty you are]

“Eu te amo mais.” I say back pecking his lips.

“And okay amor you win. But I’m really going to miss our privacy time together.” I add.

His hand leaves my center and comes up to my behind , giving me a squeeze before picking me up , causing me to squeal.

“We can have privacy time all the time princesa, just give me a heads up , the answer is always yes.” He says smirking before carrying me up the stairs while ripping off all my clothes.

“You’re crazy Ney.”

“Only for you meu amor.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n : okay first off - i had to use the pride and prejudice quote i just had to. i know it’s definitely not something ney would say but this is all fiction so let’s imagine like he would lolll.

also i feel like i drag out these imagines a little too long or i go a lot into detail , that’s how i like my writing but if you guys do feel like their a bit long please let me know and ill make them short or if you guys enjoy them this length or even want them longer please let me know.

finally thank you again for who ever sent in this request i really appreciate you taking interest in my writing and thank you guys so much for 100 followers ♡

#neymar jr #neymar #neymar fic #neymar jr one shot #neymar x reader #neymar jr imagine #psg #footballer one shot #footballer fic #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #pinterest #ao3 #neymar fanfic #fanfic

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hugmeimtouchdeprived · 2 months

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COD Bakery AU

I can't, for the life of me, come up with names/titles for anything I write (tips and suggestions are more than welcome!)

Content warning: None (I don't think?), other than that this is very, very self-indulgent :)

Also that I'm just not going to have a specific plan for this, just writing when I feel like I need to write something fluffy and not stress about it (although I do have some minor plots in mind, but we'll see!)

Pairing: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x fem!reader

The first time he comes in is in autumn, early September.

You’re putting a freshly decorated cake in the display case when you hear the bell chime above the door, notice the tall figure approaching the cash register.

And boy oh boy, does he leave you speechless for a moment.

Tall and muscular, with a slight tan like he’s just come from a vacation or something, messy mohawk on his head, dark shirt tight around his muscles. You can tell those aren’t just for show, either.

“What can I get for you?” you just manage to get the words out as you walk up to the register, pen and paper in hand to take his order.

“I’m lookin’ to buy something for my mam,” he responds, looking at the cakes and pastries on display, as if he’s examining each and every one. “What’s this one? A strawberry cheesecake?”

“Strawberry and lemon. The one next to it is blackcurrant and white chocolate,” you point at the white and blue cheesecake. The man nods.

“A couple slices of both of the cheesecakes, please,” he smiles at you. You tell him the total and start putting his order in a white box, making sure to keep them upright.

“Is there a special occasion?” you ask, trying to fill the silence.

He shakes his head. “Nae, just been gone for work for a couple months, mam’s been worried sick. Wanted to bring her sort of a peace offering,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ah. Well, these should calm the storm, then,” you chuckle, tying a ribbon around the box before handing it to him. “I wish you luck. Hope she likes sweets.”

He laughs. God, how can a person be so attractive? It’s not fair, the way his blue eyes twinkle as his lips curl upwards.

The man takes the box, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. Enough to make your heart flutter slightly. He gives you another smile before leaving.

The second time you see him is only a few days later. You’d almost forgotten about him; it was mostly his looks that had caught your attention. Otherwise, he seemed to be just a regular customer amongst the others. You don’t even know his name.

You’re joined by your boss this time. An older man, who inherited the bakery from his parents a decade ago. The bakery is fairly small, with only one other employee working there besides you and the owner. You prefer the days when you’re either working alone or paired with Ava.

Ava, only a couple years older than you, is sweet. She does most of the baking when she’s in, but always encourages you to bake and decorate things, especially if you express even the slightest interest in trying something new. Always giving you tips and complimenting the things you make.

Your boss, Brent, is the opposite. You can tell he’s not used to actually having employees, used to working alone for most of that decade he’s been in business. You and Ava were both hired mostly because the business started to eventually take off, way more than Brent had anticipated, so he hired the two of you to keep up.

“What the hell is that?” he asks, looking at the apple pastries you’re currently sprinkling powdered sugar on top of.

“The apple pastries you asked me to make yesterday,” you respond quietly.

“Looks like shit.” Brent has never been one to hold his tongue, always finding something to complain or whine about. You and Ava often compare him to Gordon Ramsay, except even he’s actually nice to his employees, from what you’ve heard.

Besides, Brent has openly admitted to not even enjoying baking; he’s only here because it’s what he has left of his parents, which is admittedly admirable. But the man bakes only when he has to, otherwise making you or Ava do it.

You just nod your head at his insults; sometimes it’s just best to roll over and show your belly, so to speak.

“Smells good in here,” a voice comes from behind you, behind the cash register.

Both you and Brent turn at the same time, seeing the same Scotsman from a few days ago.

“Looks good, too. Those for sale yet? I’d like to have one,” he continues, pointing at the pastries in front of you. Brent rolls his eyes at you and waves his hand, motioning for you to take care of it, before disappearing in the back room again.

“For your mum again?” you ask with a smile on your face.

“Nae, just for me this time. And a coffee, for here, please.”

You go about charging him for the order, before sending him off to take a seat wherever he’d like, that you’ll bring everything once it’s ready.

You place the pastry onto a plate with a dollop of whipped cream on the side, pour the coffee into a cup and bring it on a tray to the man, setting everything in front of him on the table.

He pays and takes a seat near the large window at the front of the bakery, with a direct view of the small kitchen behind the register. The bakery used to be someone’s home ages before it became a business, with a bit of a yard at the front with outdoor seating in summer and a few parking spaces. Perks of being located more on the outskirts of the city.

Unlike many other bakeries and cafes, the kitchen isn’t hidden somewhere where customers can’t see; it’s right behind the cash register, so customers can easily see whatever is being made or decorated.

“Mam really loved the cakes, by the way,” he tells you before you can turn and walk away. “She really wanted me to bring her here sometime, had to sneak out of the house just to come today.”

“Why not bring her today?” you ask curiously.

“Eh, she can be a lot sometimes. I can too, so I thought you wouldn’t want to deal with both of us,” he explains with a laugh.

You take a quick look at his attire. Not to ogle or anything, it’s just hard not to steal a glance at the stranger. It looks like he was going for a run, you assume that was his excuse for his mum.

“I’m Johnny, by the way,” he finally introduces himself. Johnny. So that's his name.

You tell him your name in turn, which he repeats under his breath. You like how it sounds coming from him, with that accent.

“Well, as much as I’d like to continue chatting, I have to get back to work. Hope you like it,” you tell him, motioning towards the pastry in front of him before returning to your duties, before your boss can get a chance to complain.

Johnny’s eyes linger on you as you work, hustling behind that counter, trying to keep up with everything even as a large group arrives just as you’re pulling two cakes out of the oven and trying to get two more in.

He enjoys moments like this, even if he’s not one to go out for coffee very often. Prefers his coffee in the quiet of his own apartment, or sometimes at his mother’s house if she insists he come over when he’s on leave.

Johnny even gains the courage to leave his phone number on the receipt for you, when you inevitably come to clear the table after he’s left. How could he not? You’re too pretty for your own good in his eyes, too good to resist. Plus, this way he doesn’t feel like he’s pressuring you into anything; you can just toss the receipt into the trash if you’re not interested.

It's such a shame that it’s your boss who ends up clearing the table when Johnny eventually leaves, eyeing the receipt and the number and the “Text me! -Johnny” scribbled onto it before discarding it himself, not giving you a chance to see it.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!🌷

#Also I'm obsessed with soap recently #so that's why this ended up being a soap fic #but i really wanna write for ghost and gaz at some point #bakery au #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x you #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish x you #john mactavish #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #johnny soap mactavish x reader

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ladykailitha · 10 months

Text

Royal Pain Part 10

Hello! So I’m wondering if people aren’t seeing my posts, I got someone on one these (don’t remember if it was this one or Roads...but they said that somehow they had missed the last three). I also noticed that a couple of the writing tags *I* follow didn’t update when they put out a new part of their story, I only noticed that they put it out because I dig through the #steddie tag several times a day.

So let me know if you’re still seeing my tags or not.

The application process has begun! Just a note on Argyle’s last name. The fandom doesn’t have one for him and they usually don’t give him one. It took a lot of research (the character looks Native American but the actor is an American born to two Mexican parents.) So after some seriously thought I landed on Rivera.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9

***

The first guy’s name was Keith Langston and he had been learning to tattoo through buying large swaths of pig skin. The guy’s portfolio was entirely of pig skin tattoos.

“Have you ever tattooed human skin or on a live person?” Steve asked looking over the portfolio turning each page slowly. “It can even be yourself. Or even just drawing on yourself?” He added, because that’s how he got into tattooing.

Keith scoffed. “That’s what I’m here for. To tattoo other people. I only go to the best to get my body tattooed.”

Steve smiled. “And who are your favorite artists?”

Keith rolled his eyes. “Like only the greats. Leonard Killgrave, Ollie Peterson, Trent Sullivan. You know, those guys.”

How Steve managed to avoid wincing, he could only attest to years of customer service. Because he had never heard of any of them. And Hopper was no slouch in the social aspect of being a tattoo parlor owner. He knew most of the shop owners and good portion of the artists under them. They weren’t from Indy that was for sure.

And then it hit him. They weren’t from Indy. They were probably from Chicago or New York, maybe even Boston. This prick was traveling out of state to get his tattoos.

“I see,” was all Steve said. They talked some more about Keith’s abilities and where he hoped to be in five years.

“Well, you got to where you are in five years,” Keith sneered. “I fully expect to world renowned in that time.”

Steve’s eye twitched. “Thank you so much for your time.” He handed back the portfolio and didn’t even bother to stand.

Keith stormed off muttering about asshole douchebags who thought they were still in high school.

Yeah, Steve was not hiring Keith.

The next one was Eden Bingham. She was the Goth chick with the fluffy black hair and the piercings.

“Hello,” she greeted as Steve stood up to shake her hand.

“Hi,” he said, “tell me about yourself.”

Turned out she was Suzie’s older sister. She had moved out from Utah to get away from her strict parents and to be closer to Suzie after she married Dustin. Suzie was the one that had told her that he was looking for an apprentice and to try for it.

During the course of the interview, Steve was a little disappointed. Eden was good. Damn good in fact. And had been tattooing her friends and roommates for the last year, indie style. But he knew their personalities would clash so hard. And it wasn’t about the aesthetic. It wasn’t.

But he knew where she would flourish though and made a note to have Robin call Hop. Hop’s most recent apprentice had moved up to a chair and chose to move to Chicago to purse their career there and needed a new apprentice.

He thanked her for her time, stood up and shook her hand.

“Hey, look,” he said gently. “I don’t think you would be happy apprenticing under me.”

She smiled. “Probably not.”

“But I know someone who’s just barely had a spot open up,” Steve explained. “He hasn’t had time to put out feelers yet. I think you’d two would be a better fit.”

Eden’s eyes went wide. “Really? You’d do that for me?”

Steve nodded. “And not just because you’re Suzie’s sister, either. Because I think you’re good and deserve a shot. Even if it isn’t with me.”

“Thanks!”

He walked out with her to get Hopper’s number and address. She walked out talking excitedly to Suzie on the phone.

Robin bumped his shoulder. “That was nice of you.”

Steve blushed. “Hop will love her.” He looked at the remaining two. “Who’s next?”

“Argyle Rivera,” she murmured.

Steve turned to him. “Argyle, come on back.”

Argyle leapt to his feet. “Brochacho! I’m super excited.”

Steve smiled and led him to the back room. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Argyle handed him his portfolio. “I think it’s so cool you asked for a physical portfolio, dude. Most cats only want a link to some website.”

Steve grinned. “I don’t mind those, it’s just harder to talk while scrolling.”

Argyle grinned back. “Yeah.”

Steve opened it up to see the most beautiful Mexican styled tattoos he had ever laid eyes on in his life. Growing up in Hawkins made for a very thin Latino or Hispanic population so he didn’t see much of this kind of work, but he had always admired it.

“This is amazing,” he breathed. “How long have you been doing this?”

Argyle blushed. “I haven’t really done much. I used marker for the most part because permanent isn’t really my style, bro. But I’ve done a couple stick and poke stuff that was fun. And I am all about the fun. So a friend suggested I should try for this.”

“So you’ve never used an ink gun?” Steve asked.

Argyle shook his head. “Nope!”

Steve and Argyle talked for a bit longer and Steve was really impressed with how open and outgoing he was.

“How do you feel about doing tattoos not in your usual style?” he asked. This was the kicker for most artists.

Argyle lit up. “That would be awesome to learn how to do, dude! I love my style but branching out is what life is all about.”

“And how would you feel about starting off only doing simple tattoos, like the small ones or basic designs?” Steve asked.

Argyle’s face spread out into the biggest grin. “Everyone’s got to start out somewhere, my man!”

Steve was really leaning towards Argyle now. Which was too bad, because he really liked the spunky blonde. No, no, not like that.

He led Argyle back to the reception area and then Robin called the last out. “Chrissy Cunningham.”

Steve smiled at her. “Come on back.”

She jumped up and followed him. “You aren’t going to murder me for the no tattoo remark, are you?” she asked with a grin and a wink.

Steve burst out laughing. “If I killed everyone that thought that, Indy would be down three-fifths of its tattoo artist population.”

She laughed too. “Fair enough.”

“And since we’re on the topic,” he said, indicating for her to sit down, “you don’t look the type anymore than I do.”

She grinned. “I got my first tattoo when I sixteen. My mom didn’t want me cutting my hair so much so that I told her either let me cut my hair or let me get a tattoo, she let me get the tattoo.”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit! I’ve never heard of that. It’s hair. It grows back.”

Chrissy grinned. “Her words were ‘At least a tattoo could be covered up, I’d have to look at the terrible hair cut!’.”

“That is fucking insane!” Steve said. “Can I see it?”

She nodded and pulled up her shirt sleeve. Steve could see the nine (yes nine, Pluto counts) planets and at the top was a howling fox.

“That’s cool,” he said. “Can I see your portfolio?”

She handed it over and Steve looked at it. She didn’t seem to have a firm style yet.

He found out they had both gone to Hawkins High. “Wait, no way.”

She nodded. “We all knew who Steve Harrington was. The basketball players all wanted to be him and all the cheerleaders wanted to be with him.”

Steve blushed into his hands. “Oh god that’s awful.”

Chrissy laughed. “Well, most of the cheerleaders anyway.”

“Not you?” he guessed.

“Kind of a large lesbian,” she said with a grimace. “Makes it a tad difficult.”

Steve laughed. “Fair enough.”

He talked with her a bit and then led her out like he had done with Eden and Argyle. He said goodbye and locked the door up behind him.

He turned to Robin. “What did you think of them? Be honest. They probably said a whole lot while they were waiting their turn.”

Robin nodded. “Argyle got Eden’s number.”

Steve burst out laughing. “Yeah, okay I needed that. Did he really?”

“Oh yeah,” Robin said. “It was mildly hilarious how well they hit it off. You couldn’t find a weirder couple.”

Steve put his hand over his heart in mock protest. “Have you supplanted our relationship as the weirdest ever? I’m hurt. Hurt I say!”

Robin laughed so hard she snorted. “All right you drama queen, weirdest romantic couple. How’s that?”

Steve beamed at her. “Perfect!”

She laughed again, shaking her head. They talked about the two candidates and both were really good.

“I don’t want to pick between them,” Steve whined, hitting his head on the desk.

“So don’t.”

Steve lifted his head. “What do you mean?”

Robin licked her lips slowly. “Steve, I’ve been doing the numbers, if we add in the potential of what they can bring in, by the time school starts back up again not only will we have enough to pay for both of them to stay on, but Erica too, and the new receptionist.”

Steve jerked back. “Wait, what?”

She nodded. “I’m not lying, dingus. I’ll swear on it. In fact, we could probably hire the new receptionist by July.”

His eyes went wide. “Really?”

Robin took his face in her hands. “You are open and friendly. First timers and people who are just nervous in general love coming to you because you put them at ease. People who just want to get a tattoo as memorial or just as a one-time thing, love coming to you. There is this whole untapped market that you accidentally slid into and made it your own. We just need more people so you and I can enjoy our lives for a change.”

Steve blinked. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “You are so good at this. Don’t sell yourself short. You deserve this.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let’s do it. Call them both and have them come in tomorrow at nine so that we can go over a few things and have them learn how to open.”

Robin nodded. “Sounds good.” She picked up the phone and started doing just that.

Steve watched her with a growing smile on his face. He had a really good feeling about this summer.

***

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

I figured as controlling as Chrissy’s mom was in the show about her weight, she would be controlling about the hair too. And ngl this is exactly what my oldest sister did to my youngest niece. It’s hair. It’ll grow back. Nope. The tattoo on my niece’s arm is the one I described here.

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